Undisputed_ How to Become the World Champion in 1,372 Easy Steps - Chris Jericho [64]
I couldn’t figure out why he had hit me so hard or how he had gotten to the floor so fast. When I turned my head to ask him what was up, I saw a complete stranger rearing back to hit me again. It wasn’t Austin who hit me at all, but a rambunctious fan who had jumped over the guardrail to extract his wrath, and he was about to do it a second time. Before he could land another punch, I popped him in the face on live TV. Thankfully, the camera cut to a shot of Austin’s face just as I reared my arm back, saving me from a certain TMZ appearance. The fan hit the ground and before I could pounce on him he was dragged over the barricade by security. As they were manhandling him over the guardrail, I started using his ballbag as a punching bag. I was going all Rocky II on his plums when a hand on my shoulder pulled me away.
“Take it easy, kid,” Austin said sternly. “You’ve made your point. Time to calm down.”
You know things are spiraling out of control when Steve Austin is the voice of reason.
After the show I jumped straight into a cab to go see George Carlin live at the Mirage. I changed out of my gear along the way and made it to the theater with only minutes to spare. I took my seat at a table next to a darling old couple who had to be in their seventies. They were friendly and we struck up a brief conversation. They told me it was their first time in Vegas and this was their very first show.
“We used to watch George Carlin on The Tonight Show all the time,” the old lady said. “I think he’s so funny!”
Just then the lights went out and George came onstage to big cheers. The old lady was clapping vociferously while whistling and hollering. George surveyed the cheering crowd and delivered his opening line.
“So, when was the last time you heard a good pussy fart?”
Grandma stopped clapping and her face dropped like her breasts without a bra. I glanced at her sheepishly and she stared at me with a look on her face that said, “Why didn’t you warn me he was going to say that?” George continued by asking by a show of hands, how many people in the crowd had ever received a blumpkin, and things just got worse from there.
It was the longest ninety minutes of my life.
CHAPTER 18
MC Hammered
On September 11, 2001, I woke up, got out of bed, and dragged a comb across my head. I made my way downstairs and drank a cup, and looking up I noticed I was late. I jumped in the car and started driving out of San Antonio, toward Houston where Smackdown! was taping later that night. I had just pulled onto the interstate when I got a call from my dad.
“Terrorists have attacked New York City and blown up the World Trade Center. Fifty thousand people have already been killed!” It was amazing how quickly false facts and figures spread that morning, but the truth was scary enough. I switched on the car radio and listened to the various reports of what was happening. As the horrible story unfolded, I continued driving to Houston, because no matter the situation, I’d been trained that the show must go on.
When I got there, the arena was empty because the show had been canceled. Ultimately, it was decided that all of us would have to stay in Houston until Thursday to do the show. I spent the next two days trying to adhere to some sort of normal routine as the entire country was falling apart and living in fear. Everywhere you looked people were gathered around TVs and radios trying to get information, expecting the end of the free world at any moment.
On September 13, the WWE held the first mass public gathering in the United States after the attack. The mayor of Houston asked us to perform in hopes that the show would take people’s minds off the tragedy, which wasn’t an easy task as we were all just as scared about what was happening. Our minds weren’t exactly put at ease when we were given a briefing by the Houston police and fire departments on