In true Triple H fashion he finished the tag match and was helped to the back by his partner HBK. I’m not sure who or when, but someone popped his kneecap back into place and he wrapped his knee. When I saw Hunter two days later in Long Island, I knew the match was not going to happen on that night. He had a brace on his knee and needed crutches to get around. As much as Hunter wanted to continue with the storyline against his better judgement, it was decided that the plan would be altered. Goldust subbed for Triple H in the match with the championship still on the line and lost the European title to Owen Hart. The original plan had been scrapped and I was no longer pegged as Owen’s cohort. There were rumblings of adding other Canadian members to the group but we’ll never know now. The “Canadian Mafia,” as all the Canadians were dubbed, and of which Owen was the leader, might have been great. But then again it might not have been. We will never know now. It’s just the nature of the business. Plans change all the time; you just have to work with the hand you are dealt.
At the time I was kind of disappointed that it didn’t happen but as I thought more about it, I felt better the way it ended up. I wasn’t happy Hunter got hurt, in case you read it that way. I was glad I wasn’t a rogue referee because once that angle runs its course, you might not be needed any longer. I’d rather be the anonymous referee the boys can trust in the ring and out who has a long career. Notoriety was never as important to me as it was to others. I simply loved being in the ring doing what I believe I do best. Don’t get me wrong — it’s nice to be recognized by the fans, but it was the recognition from my peers that meant more to me than anything. At times I wonder what would have happened if the intended story came to fruition. Regardless of the consequences, I would have loved to team up with Owen in the battle against DX. Who knows, maybe other Canadian wrestlers would have joined our cause. What a crew that would’ve made. Owen, myself, Edge, and Christian, hmmmm! I can now only imagine what that ride would’ve been like. With Owen at the helm, it definitely would have been one wonderful journey.
Fast-forward a few years to March 23, 2001. To many, that may have been the most historic day in pro wrestling. That night marked the end of the Monday Night Wars as the WWF bought their rival and main competitor WCW for what many considered a bargain price. I have heard several different money figures thrown around when discussing the purchase price, but I only know it was a great deal. Then on March 26, 2001, history was made again as the final episode of Monday Nitro aired for the final time alongside Raw. It was truly the end of an era.
The WWF absorbed most of the WCW’s talent contracts with the purchase, thus nearly doubling their roster of not only wrestlers but also referees. Three of the WCW’s refs were brought on board. Nick Patrick, Charles Robinson, and Billy Silverman were the refs who joined our roster to not so welcoming guys in stripes. Let me clarify that last statement by saying not all the WWF refs minded the additions to our squad. I surely didn’t mind because I was always confident in my work. At the risk of sounding conceited, in my mind I believed I was one of the company’s better referees and wasn’t worried about being replaced at that time. A few of the other referees didn’t share my sentiment. They questioned the reasoning behind bringing these guys over when in their minds, the extra baggage was not needed.
Another thing that didn’t sit too well with my referee brethren was that there was a fourth WCW referee who was added to the mix. Brian Hebner, the son of longtime referee Earl Hebner, was hired by the WWF and added to the roster as a WCW referee. The other refs could not understand why the company would hire more referees. They believed we had more than enough already, so why bring others in? I did get their point. I didn’t agree with it but I recognized the concerns they were expressing. For me, I was glad these guys still had a job and would have hated to see them out of work.
On a personal level, I made some new friends in the process. Nick, Charles, and Brian were now part of our family and we got along great. Nick Patrick is very knowledgeable about the wrestling business and I learned a lot from him. His father is Jody Hamilton, who wrestled as the Masked Assassin for many years. Charles is just a fun guy to be around and who was generally in a good mood. That was likely one of the main reasons we became very good friends. Brian was like the wild little brother who needed to be reined in sometimes. Not in a bad way most of the time. Let’s just call it youthful exuberance. His was an uphill battle to be accepted by most of the other refs mainly because they felt he hadn’t paid his dues and the only reason he was there was that his dad was the senior official. All that being said, Brain was a good young referee.
What was cool about the WCW/ECW Invasion angle was that the referees had a rivalry as well. There was even a locker room dust-up between both ref camps. It was a fun little side story that culminated with a match between Earl Hebner, the WWF’s senior referee, and Nick Patrick, who was WCW’s senior official. All the other referees from both sides were at ringside for the match, which Earl won of course. Eventually, the WCW brand was done away with and their refs joined ours and we were one big happy family.
We could debate for days about how the whole WCW/ECW Invasion storyline was not handled properly. The numerous missed opportunities to capitalize on potential dream matches the fans wanted to see was a major complaint. Many have said, “I would have done this” or “I would have done that.” Naturally you can make such bold statements when you know there is no way to change what already happened. It’s easy to say after the fact when there’s no one to answer to. Sometimes you’ve just got to go with the flow. For me it was new talent and new friends to work with.
Buying WCW was not the biggest surprise move by the top brass at Titan Tower. In my humble opinion the most shocking move by the WWF/E was the night Eric Bischoff was introduced as the general manager of Raw. It was kept a secret all day long and less than a handful of people knew he would be the new GM of Raw. As far as I knew, none of the talent was aware of his hiring. Vince wanted everyone’s reaction to be genuine. That’s exactly what he got from the boys, particularly those who worked for him at WCW. Some were not happy to see him there, while others just couldn’t believe Vince could work with his arch-nemesis.
All the doubts were put to rest when Vince McMahon and Eric Bischoff hugged it out on live TV. Vince is first and foremost a businessman and he saw money in hiring Eric for an on-air role, and that’s what he was: an on-air talent and that’s it. I’m sure he pitched ideas to creative, but he was not an official member of the creative team. At least not that I was aware of.
From my point of view, I thought it was brilliant. Appointing his most hated real-life business rival was genius. It made the despised Mr. McMahon character appear to sell his soul for ratings. As controversial as the Bischoff hiring was to the fans, it almost seemed even more of a questionable move in the eyes of the boys backstage. I had heard stories from many who worked for him in WCW and most of the stories were not flattering. I can only speak of the Eric Bischoff whom I met in 2002 as the Raw GM. He seemed friendly enough and was approachable. We didn’t interact very much but he was pleasant. As for his on-screen character, he played the evil general manager very well and was good on the microphone. All in all, I think Eric Bischoff was an asset during his time in the WWE. Even though some were not happy he was there in the first place, they have to admit that the controversy did create cash. (Pun intended.)
Chapter 11
The King of Harts: Owen
“In this business you make a lot of acquaintances but very few friends. Owen was one of those friends.” Those were the emotional and very heartfelt words of Jeff Jarrett less than 24 hours after the tragic and unfortunate accident that took the life of Owen Hart.
What I would like to do right now is to tell you a little about the Owen Hart I knew and, for the first time ever, describe the events of that day and my feelings. I first met Owen Hart in the late 1980s — I believe it was 1988. He had just begun wrestling in the WWF as the Blu
e Blazer, a masked superhero-like character. Right from the beginning, you knew that Owen was special, not only in the ring but outside of it as well. I generally consider myself a very good judge of character and when Owen and I first met, it was the little things one might notice that told me he was down to earth and genuinely a good guy. Owen had this calming quality about him. He made everyone feel at ease. I was no different. We got along very well right from the very beginning. Maybe it was because we were very close in age, or the fact that we both had an unusual sense of humour. It could have been simply that we were both Canadian and there seemed to be a different camaraderie among the Canucks in the WWF. It sort of exists even to this day. The honest truth is, sometimes you just can’t pinpoint one particular thing that makes people friends and, in Owen’s case, there were just too many reasons to like the guy.
It has been said many times by many people that no one has ever heard a bad word spoken about Owen Hart. I know they say that about a lot of people but, with regards to Owen, that is an absolute truth. Another thing Owen is very much famous for is being one of the greatest if not the best practical joker, or as we say in wrestling “ribber,” ever. His ribs were the stuff legends were made of. The thing about the ribs Owen played on people was that they were not malicious or mean-spirited. No one ever suffered any personal injury and to the best of my knowledge no personal belongings were ever damaged as a result of Owen’s pranks. What I liked most about Owen’s ribbing was that no one — and I mean no one — was immune. Everyone from me all the way up to Vincent Kennedy McMahon has been an unwilling participant in his shenanigans.
I remember after a particularly long evening of television tapings, I became the victim of one of Owen’s harmless pranks. I was in my hotel room, watching television but still half-asleep. It was almost one a.m. when the phone rang. The person on the other end said he was calling from the front desk claiming that there was a problem with my credit card. I asked what the problem was, but they said I needed to come down to the front desk to clear up the situation. So I put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and made my way down to the front desk. When I got there, the fellow behind the desk asked me if he could help me. I said yes and explained who I was and the whole conversation on the phone and while I was explaining myself I could see that he had this confused look on his face. After I was done explaining why I was there, he informed me that no one from the front desk had called my room and that everything seemed to be in order regarding my credit card. I didn’t clue in to the fact that I had been had at first, but when Owen showed up moments later claiming that he had fallen victim to the same phone call I put two and two together. He got me. As we stood in the lobby laughing about the situation, I saw other wrestlers making their way to the front desk after apparently having received the same phone call I had gotten. I looked at Owen as he smiled like the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland. Apparently, he was a busy man. At least I wasn’t the only one to fall for his hijinks that night.
Even the boss has fallen prey to Owen’s tomfoolery. Years ago there was a pay-per-view match involving Hunter Hearst Helmsley and Henry Godwin. This particular match however was to take place in a hog pen. So early that day not only did the crew have to build the ring as usual, they had to help construct the structure they were to wrestle in. Now, the WWF does not carry their own hogs and pigs with them. The animals had to be rented — I have no idea where one would rent these animals for the day but those in charge found some. Early that afternoon a truck arrived to deliver the farm animals that were going to be roaming freely in the pen while the match was taking place. The production manager was looking for somewhere to temporarily house these pigs when, lo and behold, who should appear but none other than the prankster himself, Owen Hart. With everyone at the production meeting, including Mr. McMahon and all the agents, Owen took it upon himself to help find a place to store the pigs. With the swine in tow, Owen directed the delivery fellow down the hall and into a room. With the pigs securely in the room, Owen escorted the delivery guy back to his truck. No one saw the sign on the door that Owen cleverly concealed. It read Vince’s Office. Once it became evident, everyone was laughing and terrified at the same time. What if Vince thought that the crew had put them in there? As everyone discussed what the next move was going to be and whether someone should move the animals out of Vince’s office, the production meeting let out. As the Chairman made his way down the hall towards his office, the guys considered running but decided to stay within earshot just to hear his reaction. Mr. McMahon entered his office, and you could only imagine the incredibly shocked look on his face. A few seconds later he burst out of his office half-smiling, screaming for Owen. No one said anything to him; he just knew who it was and actually had a good laugh about it. Even Vince McMahon appreciated Owen’s sense of humour. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, I was not present while all this was taking place. I was busy doing other chores and nobody let me know what was going on. I had to hear about it after the fact like most of the boys did. Regardless, it was still a classic Owen ribbing at its best.
Owen Hart’s ability to make all of us laugh was not restricted to ribbing his co-workers outside the ring. On the contrary, he got just as much enjoyment out of making us laugh in the ring as well. One classic example of this occurred in Germany. We were in Oberhausen and it was a tag-team title match — Jeff Jarrett and his partner Owen Hart versus Edge and Christian. Yours truly happened to be the referee for this contest. There was nothing out of the ordinary at the beginning of this match; in fact, the heels began to get some serious heat on a babyface Edge. Then all of a sudden the serious nature of the match took a 180-degree turn and hilarity ensued. Like any good heel, Owen decided to reach into his tights and pull out a foreign object and proceed to use it on his opponent Edge. All this occurred behind the referee’s back — once again, that would be me. Edge sold like he got hit with a brick. Owen then went to the corner and climbed up to the bottom rope, yes that is right, the bottom rope, and came off that bottom rope with a big splash on Edge’s lower legs and proceeded to cover his legs. Since Edge’s shoulders were down I started counting. Edge barely kicked out at two and three quarters. Then Owen proceeded to cover Edge with his crotch directly in Edge’s face. Edge then kicked out a little stronger this time. After Owen had used the object several more times, again behind my back, the time was right for me to call him out on it. Owen had hidden the object under his arm and despite my repeated request for him to raise his arms, he refused to do so. I told him that I would begin my five count and if he did not raise his arm I would disqualify him then and there. At this point I still did not know what the object was. I began to count, and when I got to four Owen raised his arms and a single red napkin floated harmlessly to the canvas. I couldn’t believe it. I looked at Owen and there was that smile again. I looked at Jeff, then I looked back at Christian and Edge, and it became a laugh-fest. I usually pride myself on the fact that I am very good at not cracking up in the ring. That night I didn’t have a prayer. From that point forward it became known to us as the Foreign Napkin Match.
If there is one thing in my career that I’ve been asked about more than any other, it has to be regarding the day Owen Hart passed away. This will really be the first time that I talk about this day in detail. I’ve touched on this subject in the past but feel that now is the time for me to finally tell people how this tragedy affected me personally.
May 23, 1999, Kansas City, Missouri, the Kemper Arena — not only a day I will never forget but also a time that changed my life and that I think about almost daily. Let me start from the beginning of that day. I arrived at the arena at ten a.m. with the rest of the crew to begin setting up for the Over the Edge pay-per-view being held later that evening. Kemper Arena is a difficult building to load-in because there are no loading docks to unload the 13 trucks. We had to ramp or forklift everything out of the trucks and push all the equipment into the arena. Yes, we basically dumped the trucks outside of the
building. All that said, everything was running quite smoothly that day. As the day progressed, the talent began arriving to the arena. It was business as usual, nothing out of the ordinary. All the other referees and I were waiting for the production meeting to end in order to find out which matches we had been assigned to. I was in catering having lunch when I found out that I would be refereeing the Intercontinental title match between the champion, the Godfather, and the challenger, the Blue Blazer a.k.a. Owen Hart. I found Owen and the Godfather in the locker room to let them know that I would be working their match later that night. They said that was great and that they would fill me in on the details of the match a little later. There didn’t seem to be anything different or unusual with regards to Owen’s attitude or demeanour, at least nothing that I noticed. My day went pretty much as expected. I carried out whatever duties I needed to do before finally sitting down with the guys in my match to iron out the specifics and what they needed from me. That is when I first discovered that Owen would be making his spectacular entrance descending from the rafters of the arena. To be honest with you, I didn’t really think much of it as Owen had performed this stunt before. Was he nervous or apprehensive about the stunt as others have claimed? I can’t say for sure. I didn’t really notice anything out of the ordinary. I do know that right after that he went out to the arena to practice being lowered from the rafters. I don’t know how many times he practiced it; I was running around at the time performing other duties.
As far as the finish of the match, it was to involve a masked mini-me version of the Blue Blazer. The company had brought in a Mexican mini-wrestler to portray the Blue Blazer’s sidekick, dressed just like the real Blue Blazer. He would be involved in the finish and help the actual Blue Blazer become the new Intercontinental champion. It was meant to be very comedic, just like Owen’s entrance was meant to be funny. He was to be lowered toward the ring where they would stop him about five feet above the canvas and kind of leave him there dangling. He would then, in a very funny way, flail his arms and legs, trying to somehow make it all the way down to the ring. When the time was right, he would pull the quick-release located on his harness and tumble into the ring, once again all for comedic effect.
The Three Count Page 11