Undisputed_ How to Become the World Champion in 1,372 Easy Steps - Chris Jericho [63]
I morphed into Ed Grimley and started running in place while doing an odd hop-type thing every few seconds. How would I approach him? Would he like me? What would I say? My track record when meeting famous people wasn’t very good; I was famous for delivering the worst opening lines whenever I met somebody that I was a fan of. (Those stories and much more are in A Lion’s Tale, available at the Dollar Tree.)
Finally, I mustered up all my courage and decided to talk to the G-man while I could. I gave my camera to the WWE rep and asked him to take a picture of me with Wayne when the time was right. I walked up to the bar and sidled up next to the Great One, preparing to deliver my carefully prepared opening line asking him which one of his goals was his favorite.
“Hey!…. ummmm…. you’re Wayne Gretzky, right?”
What?? No, that’s not what I wanted to say!! I was at the NHL Awards surrounded by hockey players—of course he was Wayne Gretzky! Who else could he be? AHHHHH!!
Wayne looked at me with a big grin and confirmed the patently obvious.
I stood there in silence, grinning back. Finally, I worked up the courage to continue talking.
“My name is Wayne too,” I almost said, before catching myself and saying instead, “Hi Wayne. I wrestle for the WWE and I’m presenting an award tonight. I was wondering if it would it be okay if I took a picture with you?”
Wayne took a sip of his beer and said, “Yeah, no problem. WWE, huh? I knew I recognized you. You’re Jeff Jericho, right?”
Boy howdy!! Wayne Gretzky knew my name!!
Well, half of it at least, and that was good enough for me.
“So, wrestling, eh? Wow that’s a tough sport, Jeff. I’ve got a lot of respect for you guys. Do you want a beer?”
Do I want to have a beer with Wayne Gretzky? Does the Pope shit in the woods? I was agog (still a great word) to be shooting the shit with one of my childhood heroes—with his hockey hair, pointy nose, eastern Canadian redneck accent and all. He was super froot and just a regular guy—albeit a regular guy who scored a total 3,239 points in his career.
We talked for about fifteen minutes about hockey, wrestling, and about my old flame, Cup. He explained how it felt to hoist the Cup for real and laughed when I brought up that he had scored more points against my beloved Winnipeg Jets than any other team. Finally I shook his hand and said, “You know, I was so scared to come talk to you, and now I have no idea why. You’re one of the friendliest people I’ve ever met.”
“Of course, man, I’m Canadian!”
He gave me his endearing grin and began to leave. Then he turned around and said, “Anytime you’re in Phoenix, you’ve got to come skate with us. Just let me know and I’ll set it up. Take care, Jeff.”
Skate with the Great One? Yeah right! I’d spontaneously combust and Jeff Jericho would be gone forever.
It’s nice when you meet one of your heroes and he turns out to be even frooter than you could’ve imagined. The Great One was a perfect example of that. He smelled good, too.
People often ask me if I prefer being a babyface or a heel. Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me. I enjoy both, and as long as people are reacting to what I’m doing, I’m happy. Having said that, it’s much easier to make people hate you than it is to make them like you. Wrestling is a strange form of entertainment in that even though people know it’s show business, they still think there’s some reality to it. Sometimes when I meet a fan, they’ll tell me that instead of the jerk they were expecting, I’m actually a nice guy. I always point out that Anthony Hopkins doesn’t really eat people’s livers with some fava beans and a nice Chianti ( slurp-slurp-slurp). It’s just a part he’s playing. It’s the same with me: I’m an actor portraying a character.
But once in a while, someone will get so mad with my dastardly doings that they’ll attempt vengeance.
I was in Las Vegas teaming with The Undertaker against Austin and The Rock on Raw and was on the floor