Forgiven: One Man's Journey from Self-Glorification to Sanctification (6 page)

In the “What was I thinking?” category, when I was in the 7th grade, me and my friend Richie Misbach (the same kid the Fruitinator assaulted with a belt) actually used to tape up our thumbs and then load them up with pennies before we went to school. In a crowded hallway, we would then proceed to jam our thumbs into the throats of unsuspecting “opponents” in homage to our hero, Ernie Ladd. Man, was the Big Cat a great role model for a 13-year-old, or what?

Okay, I guess there was a little mark in me after all. . . .

Nah, I mean, I was simply a fan of the business. I attended a few live events a year and followed the product on the boob tube. To me, wrestling
was
one of the best forms of entertainment television had to offer.

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Chapter 5

THE BEST

DAYS OF MY LIFE

At about the age of 18 I lost touch with the wrestling business. I went away to college at Indiana State University (Evansville campus), and began to concentrate more on losing my virginity. Yes I admit it, I entered college a virgin — not that there’s anything wrong with that.

In my junior high school years, I dated the same girl throughout the 8th and 9th grades. This was the first time I was introduced to sex. Like any kid that age, I was curious about girls and was in quite a bit of a hurry to figure the mystery out. So experiments went on . . . then more experiments . . . and yet more . . . ’nuff said. The table was set, and after going through the soup, salad, appetizer and main course, the sweetness of the dessert tempted my very boyhood. But at that time, I also felt a

“presence.” There was just something there that stopped me from experiencing that tasty, but extremely dangerous Sarah Lee cake. I’m pretty sure that it had nothing to do with my upbringing, because neither of my 28

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parents ever mentioned the word
sex
to me. It was just never talked about. There were no birds or bees — you found out what you found out by watching hbo after the parents went to bed. So what was it? My conscience? Well, I don’t believe in Jiminy Cricket either. No, there was something there that stopped me, something that made the potential negative consequences of the act crystal clear. Needless to say, it was the same “something” that told me to spend time with my grandmother just days before she died.

Looking back now, I know I was protected. I just wasn’t sure who or what I was being protected by. With no guidance, and no education about sex, I could very easily have been a guest on
Maury
. I could have been the 16-year-old dad standing onstage and barking to the crowd,

“You don’t know me! You don’t know me.” But, that never happened. I never had sex. I was being protected from myself.

Thank you, God.

Within the first three months of college I lost my virginity. I was 19

years old. Believe it or not, I was “taken advantage of ” by a blonde bombshell who had a lot more experience than I did. The truth is, I never even saw it coming. As a matter of fact, we were innocently playing tennis only a half-hour before the show began! Then, before I knew what even hit me, I was aced. The girl was going to have her way with me and there was nothing I was going to be able to do about it. And that’s the way it went down.
Wham, Bam, Thank-you Sam.
When it was all said and done, and she said, “Goodnight, Irene” and left, I remember lying in my bed and thinking, “Is that it? Is that what the big deal was all about?” Obviously, it should have been a big deal to me — and it would have been, if I had been in love with the girl. But there was no love — just one, cheap moment of hot monkey love. Man, did I miss out. I know I almost sound like a girl here, but who cares? In this book you will learn everything about me — not just the highlights, but the lowlights as well. Losing my virginity to someone I never cared about was a lowlight. Nineteen years of purity was taken away forever by a single moment of lust. And, in the end, it just wasn’t worth it.

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I don’t think I was ready for the female attention I received when I went to college. During my teen years on Long Island I had two girl-friends —
two
. The second I stepped into Evansville, Indiana, I was the “boy from New York City” every girl had to have. Just think about it — the same girls, living in the same town, with the same guys, for the last 18 years. I was Kevin Bacon’s Ren in
Footloose
, I was the forbidden fruit they all wanted to gnaw on. But to be honest — I just wasn’t that way. After my episode with the blonde bomber, I was inti-mate with just one other girl before meeting my wife in my second year.

So here’s a first I promise you will never read in another ego-driven book where wrestling is involved —
I have been with only three
girls in my entire life.
Looking back now, sex was never really important to me. If it was there, fine. If it wasn’t, no big deal. I was never the hormone-driven animal on the prowl. Rather, I was always interested in the “relationship.” That was just my makeup, the morals that were instilled in me.

As I began to mature as a person, I was driven away from the world of professional wrestling. When I reached my late teens and early 20s, the World Wrestling Federation, which I had grown up on, was removed from the menu and replaced with things of greater importance. Working my way through school (even though the Fruitinator will tell you she funded it all), I held down two jobs. As if that wasn’t enough, I was also editor of the student newspaper, the public relations director of the Student Union Board and vice-president of my fraternity — Sigma Tau Gamma. I was the !@#$% in charge of the pledges. Man, we tortured those poor young kids. We even stooped to the level of making them walk around town smoking tampons. Oh, what it was like to be young. I had
zero
responsibilities, unaware that those “years of freedom” were actually molding me into the person I would someday become.

I learned a work ethic in college, something I would later base my entire life on. I literally worked my butt off — not in the classroom, but in the areas that actually meant something to me. Now, let me say 30

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this — in the hope that my kids don’t read this book for many years to come —
anybody can get a college education.
I coasted through college. First off, I wasn’t stupid enough to take classes that were difficult. That meant staying away from anything that had to do with numbers or the ozone layer — in other words, science and math. I mean, why would
anyone
take calculus? What are you going to do with calculus in the real world? At what point in our lives are we going to be forced to
add letters?
It’s just not natural. Then there’s the earth sciences. Does anybody really care how many layers of rock the earth consists of? Am I going to hack through them all at some point in time? Where am I going — to China?

I have to stop myself for a second — is there anyone out there who actually thought they could dig to China when they were kids?

C’mon, raise your hands. I know I did. But getting back to earth sciences — forget it, man, take the easy classes. Try communications.

Communications was a no-brainer for me. I mean, we all have to communicate, don’t we? And how can anyone fail public speaking?

You go up there in front of people and you speak — simple. Or what about interpersonal communication? Just watch
Oprah
or
Dr. Phil
and you’ll pick it up.

All right, I’ve got to come clean about something here. I’m a Christian now, so I’m just going to bare my soul. During my high school and college days, I had a motto: When in doubt,
cheat!
When the going got tough, I cheated my way through both high school and college because I realized early on that very little of what I was learning would apply to my life. I mean, how many of you out there really know where, or what, the Mason-Dixon Line is? How many of you know who fought the war of 1812? How many of you used the knowledge gained in science lab when you cut opened that helpless, innocent frog? After earning my money in the entertainment field for the past 12 years, I know a frog’s anatomy not only didn’t help further my career, but the subject never even came up.

Now, as a responsible Christian I’m not advising you to cheat — I now understand how morally wrong it is. And to illustrate how God has 31

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changed my life, I recently took an on-line test in Seminary school that may have been the hardest exam I have ever taken. Now, if I had opened my book to help me with some of the answers there is no way, no how, my professor would have found out. I was in Marietta, Georgia, he was in Denver, Colorado — unless he was David Blaine, he wouldn’t have had a clue. But, in this life — my new life — the thought never even crossed my mind. Why? Because God would have known, and at this point that’s all that matters to me.

Getting back to my education — I am a bit concerned about what our kids are learning today, especially at the high-school level. I just wish the curriculum were more geared towards what those teenagers are going to need to know as young adults to survive and hold their own out in the real world. To this day, I don’t understand why I was forced to struggle with algebra for three years. Solving mathematical equations has had no relevance to my adult life whatsoever. By the time a student reaches high school, they already know their likes and dislikes, their strengths and weaknesses. Why not let teenagers concentrate on those areas that are going to help them with the career path they decide to follow. And, not to mention — if I’d have learned as much about Jesus Christ in high school as I did about Napoleon Bonaparte, I might have saved myself 25

years of depression.

Getting back to the pride thing — I worked around the clock as editor of the student newspaper. Being the chief meant that the paper had my name stamped all over it. If it lacked anything, it was because of me. I took full responsibility and great pride in my work. I jumped in headfirst and gave my blood, sweat and tears. To me it was a challenge — if I succeeded I would have achieved a great accomplishment, but if I failed,
I
failed. But even back then I knew I wouldn’t fail — I just wouldn’t allow it. To me it was all about winning the challenge . . . every challenge. You see — this wasn’t Intro to German — this was the real world.

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Chapter 6

COLDCOCKED

Day and night I worked on the student paper.
The Shield
became my passion, my lifeline. In my mind I was Lou Grant; the head honcho calling all the shots. However, to my credit, I never got drunk with power —
never.
I respected those who wanted to help me; they didn’t have to, rather they chose to. During that time, I really learned how to get people to work for you. It was all about motivation. You had to give them a reason to want to help you succeed. The people working for you — your employees — genuinely had to like and care about you. This is where those “Dr. Phil” interpersonal communication classes actually kicked in. People thrive on praise — all they want to be told is that they’re doing a great job. Throughout my life, I never felt that I was better than anybody else. I realized that we were all in this together — you get out of this world exactly what you put into it, it’s that simple. That was never taught to me by my dad, or the Fruitinator, but rather something that just seemed instilled in me.

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(That’s why most people in power tend to be [insert expletive here]

— they never put anything into it — they simply take the shortcut.) These people are scared to death of being exposed, because as ele-mentary as it is, what goes around comes around.

I’ve learned something in the past year of being a Christian. In my life A.S. (after saved), God’s system of checks and balances is so prevalent that sometimes it’s scary. It goes back to the “what goes around, comes around” thing. The principle is simple: you live your life as Jesus did, you take steps forward; you live your life in the flesh, you go backwards.

Trying to live my life in Jesus has been the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. And, I use the word “had” because in the big scheme of things, there is no other way. If you want to fulfill your life as God meant it to be the moment he created you, you must follow the example set by his son. Many people don’t understand this, but one of the secondary reasons Jesus was sent to earth was to be the model for how we should go about living our everyday lives, each moment we exist on this earth.

Go find the nearest bible and read your four gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. They serve as a blueprint for how we should act as human beings. It’s all right there — love, understanding, forgiveness, compassion — every trait our Christ wore like a crown when he walked the face of this earth is all right there for us to inherit. And, to be blunt

— God doesn’t pull any punches, either. He clearly states it’s either his way, or the highway. But he does give us the freedom to choose. The same freedom he gave to Adam and Eve from day one. It’s what we do with that choice that determines everything. I know, that for the better part of 40 years when I was presented with that choice my answer was,

“Thank you anyway, don’t want any.” And, I didn’t get any either — no peace, no love, no hope, no patience, no understanding, no nothing —

a big, fat, goose egg. Now, was that God’s fault, or mine? He clearly gave me the instructions (the gospels) and I chose not to follow them.

Did you ever stop to think that when things aren’t going well it may be because you are doing something you aren’t supposed to be doing, and subconsciously you know it? For the past six months, I’ve been 34