Undisputed_ How to Become the World Champion in 1,372 Easy Steps - Chris Jericho [96]
Just goes to show that sometimes even the all-time greats need a little pep talk. Besides, after all the advice he gave me when I was struggling as champion, I was happy to return the favor.
My contract ended in the summer of 2002 and I had every intention of re-signing, but the company had been stalling for months regarding a few extras I wanted added to my deal. But Vince was getting impatient and wanted the contract signed, so one day I arrived at the arena in Sacramento and was summoned into his office.
“Enough of the lawyers and agents, Chris, we’ve got to get this contract worked out. Where do we stand?”
“We’ve been working on it for months, Vince, but there’s still some holdups.”
“Yes, I know there’s some issues. Tell me what you want.”
I took a deep breath and asked, “Vince, am I one of your top guys?”
“Absolutely you are.”
That’s all I needed to hear. “Then I want a deal that backs that up.”
I told him what I wanted and I couldn’t believe the number that came out of my mouth. I’d come a long way from asking Bischoff for the unthinkable sum of 100 grand six years earlier.
Vince nodded his head and seemed uncomfortable. “If I give that to you right now, will you take it?”
“Of course I will, boss.”
He said, “Okay, you got it.”
That was it—after six months of haggling, the contract was completed in two minutes.
But it was the last WWE contract I would sign for a long time.
For Survivor Series 2002, Vince wanted something big to sell the show. HHH had been petitioning to do WarGames, a match involving two rings and ten wrestlers inside a giant cage. Vince wasn’t keen on using the WarGames name or concept, because it was a WCW invention. That’s when the Elimination Chamber was born.
The chamber was a vile contraption, essentially a domed steel cage with chain walls and a floor. When it was lowered around the ring, it was the same level as the mat and extended the area four feet around each side. In each corner of the cage was a bulletproof-glass-covered pod where you would wait until it was your turn to enter the fray. You could tell whoever built the chamber had never wrestled a match in their life, as it was awkward, unforgiving, and just plain painful. The rules were that two guys would start, and another performer would enter the ring every five minutes until everyone was eliminated. The winner would be the champion.
The guys in the match were me, Rob Van Dam, Booker T, Kane, HHH, and Shawn Michaels, and since it was the first time the match had ever taken place there was no precedent for us to follow. We showed up at MSG hours early to try to formulate what exactly we could do within this monstrosity, but after hours of brainstorming we hadn’t finalized anything and were still coming up with ideas as the show started. Shawn and HHH were the last two in the chamber and called the finish on the fly; the planning hadn’t gotten that far by the time the match began.
The match started with Van Dam and I, then HHH joined in. At one point RVD climbed to the top of the pod, but the roof on the cage didn’t allow him to fully stand straight up. He launched himself from a half crouch, and that, combined with HHH being too close, caused his knee to land directly on Hunter’s throat. Hunter’s larynx was damaged and he could barely talk. He was in immense pain, and when I rolled over to ask him if he was okay, he could only squawk that he wasn’t. It was up to me to take charge. I bumped around for Rob and Booker until the clock started ticking down from ten, heralding Shawn’s entrance into the match. He had recently returned after being off for almost five years and the crowd was highly anticipating his impending