by Bob Holly
I’ve heard a lot of people claim Brock dropped me on my head on purpose because I wasn’t cooperating with him on the powerbomb — that I wanted to make him look bad, so I didn’t bother jumping properly and that I got what I deserved when he dropped me. Where these people got this idea, I don’t know. I think these people were happy to have seen me get hurt. It boggles my mind that there are people like that, and I guarantee that these people who started rumors from their computers wouldn’t say a damn word to my face. Nobody ever asked me about what happened or tried to get to know me before passing judgment, they just went ahead and made assumptions. Anybody who has ever learned to wrestle can look back at that footage and see that our timing was off and the whole thing was just an accident. Nothing more, nothing less.
I went home after the taping and rested up. I thought I’d give it a few days and I’d be fine. It was when I went to the refrigerator and tried to grab some lasagna with my left arm that I knew something was really wrong. I nearly dropped it. It was a pretty damn heavy dish but I should have been able to lift up some lasagna, right? I was able to hold it with my right hand. I tried again with my left. Couldn’t do it . . . something was wrong. I thought I’d give it another week or so and see how it felt.
I went back on the road later that week and got back in the ring, figuring this was just another injury I was going to have to work through. Time would heal me. I was doing a tag match when I took a bump and it felt like somebody nailed me with a sledgehammer between my shoulder blades. A regular bump shouldn’t have hurt that damn bad, so I told the trainers and they agreed that something wasn’t right. The next night, I was in another tag. The agents told me to stay on the apron and avoid hurting myself. I said I’d just do the comeback and wouldn’t take any bumps. They were fine with that. We built up to it, I got the tag, I came in to do my stuff, and I threw a punch at one of the other team. It felt like somebody had drilled me. I did nothing but punch somebody and it hurt me? Yeah, something was definitely wrong. The next day, they sent me to get an MRI and that was when we found out that I had a ruptured disc in my neck, cracked vertebrae, and pinched nerves. They lined me up for neck surgery right away. I was definitely not going to be doing anything any time soon . . . or so I figured.
After I’d been booked for the neck surgery, I got a call from the office, saying that they needed me to fly to L.A. to do a cameo on Tough Enough 3. My arm was basically numb at this point and I was very uncomfortable but I said I’d do it. I went out there and met the guy in charge, “Big” John Gaburick. He said, “I know you’re in pain and having surgery tomorrow, so I don’t want you getting in the ring.” I said we’d see and that if I needed to get in there, I’d get in there. But the plan was for me to be there in a purely advisory capacity. I was supposed to give the show’s trainees some advice on the wrestling business, how the locker room is, and how to make it as a professional. I’d done some talking and given them some advice, and towards the end of the day I watched these guys in the ring. They were doing a round-robin thing where they would tag in, do some spots in the ring, and then tag out. They were laughing and joking around — that was it. I started to get pissed off with these wannabes. Wrestling is supposed to be serious! People can get hurt and these guys didn’t have a clue what was going on. By this point, they should have understood that whenever you’ve got an audience, you’ve got to be serious. This was going out on TV and they were clowning around! I told Big that I wanted to get in the ring, so they stopped the whole thing and said to the cast, “We’re going to do Bob, Al Snow, and Bill Demott in there against you guys — you all tag in and out against these three.”
Since they hadn’t listened to what I’d said earlier, I felt I needed to educate these kids physically. There’s a time and a place for kidding around and having a good time, and it’s not when you’re in front of a television camera. I take wrestling seriously and wasn’t about to let these little fuckers act like goofballs. When I got in there, I’m sure they could see in my eyes that I was not fixing to laugh and have a good time. I was there to work and teach these guys what the wrestling business is all about.
Matt Cappotelli happened to be in there when I got in. I knocked him down in the corner and started stomping on him — as I’ve said a million times already, I work stiff but I don’t set out to hurt people. But he was flailing around and trying to move. I wanted him to stay down but he was not following my lead. Anybody who wrestles knows that if you are in the ring with someone more experienced than you, you go where he puts you and he controls what happens. Cappotelli should have known it too, but he still squirmed and tried to get up. He ended up getting a boot in the mouth, which busted him open. The producers from MTV wanted Big to step in and stop the match but he told them not to be stupid — it was part of wrestling! I guess reality got too real for MTV.
Sure, I got rough with him, I’ll admit it — but I’m rough with everybody! I took it upon myself to teach him what wrestling is like. Wrestling is a rough business. I didn’t bust his nose or do anything to him that hasn’t been done to me — or that wouldn’t be done to him at some point in his career. Big understood what was going on. Bill DeMott sided with me. Al didn’t like it but he was the mother hen of the series — he coddled those guys. Whenever they were hurt, they went to him and he would nurse them back to health and make sure they were okay. That’s not how wrestling works and Al wasn’t doing them any favors. I was trying to introduce them to the real wrestling business because it’s not laughing and kidding around. It’s serious.
The next day, they filmed Matt Cappotelli crying like a little fucking girl, saying he wanted to go home because he’d been roughed up a little bit. He had a black eye and a busted lip. I can’t tell you how many black eyes and busted lips I’ve had and not once did I ever complain about it. Here was this kid on a show called Tough Enough and he was ready to go home because he got a little hurt. They ended up talking him into staying — they should have let him quit, as far as I’m concerned. If he was going to go on TV and cry about me being rough with him, he had no business in wrestling. Years later, he ended up with a brain tumor and I felt really bad for him, but he would never have made it in the business. I knew it because of the way he carried on after his run-in with me. He didn’t think getting hurt was part of the business. Are you kidding me? I was there with cracked vertebrae and a shattered disc in my neck, about to go into surgery the next day, and I was in there teaching him how to work, getting on with it. He got his lip busted open and he wanted to quit the business? Wrestling was definitely not for him.
To be completely honest, I was not much rougher on Matt than I was with anybody else. I’m pretty much the same with everybody. When I’m a little bit rougher with somebody now and then, it’s to test them, to see if they can take it. I’d seen Matt in training earlier that day, and I thought he was decent enough for what skills he had, good enough to make it. My whole perspective on him changed when I saw him whining on TV. I lost all respect for him right there. I felt like saying, “Come on, grow up. This isn’t fucking kindergarten . . .”
The only other guy who impressed me that season was John Morrison. He and Matt were the best guys by a mile. It’s funny, but when John started for real with WWE after he and Matt won Tough Enough, he was wary of me, but after a couple of years in the business, he came up to me and said, “Bob, now I understand why you did what you did back then. I get it now. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He said he appreciated my help in training him and making him understand how wrestling was. He got it.
My neck surgery happened the day after I shot that session for Tough Enough. It went fine but I knew it was going to be a long time before I healed properly. Vince called me afterwards to check on me. So did Brock — he called a few times to apologize again. I kept telling him not to worry. The writing team called as well and said that the whole internet was buzzing about the thing with Cappotelli. The replay of that episode was the highest-rated
replay MTV had ever had at that point. The writers said that it was a damn shame that I’d had to have surgery because there was a great story there! They said they could have used it to make me one of the top heels in the company but the timing was just horrible. I was like, “Well, that figures . . .”
At least I had a ready-made feud with Brock to come back to, providing the writers didn’t sweep it under the rug like they did when Kurt Angle broke my arm. I wasn’t confident of anything. I ended up spending over a year off TV. The company looked after me financially while I was off, paying me every cent that was in my contract, so that was one less thing to worry about. Still, I was itching to do something and be useful. I wasn’t on WrestleMania XVIII or XIX, I damn sure wanted to be on the card at XX.
PART 11: GENUINE TOUGHNESS
People can talk all they want to about how certain wrestlers are too rough or don’t work soft enough, but last time I checked, wrestling was a contact sport. I don’t know what some people who get in that ring are expecting, but we sure as hell aren’t going to go ballroom dancing. If they have a problem with getting hurt, then they’re in the wrong business because they haven’t got the heart for wrestling. Having heart isn’t something you learn, it’s something you’re born with. Either you’ve got it or you don’t.
Wrestling is a tough business. Some people talked about me being a bully — those people don’t know a thing. Because I played the gimmick of being a no-nonsense, grumpy bastard, my critics just assumed I beat people up. If I’d been given the Doink gimmick, nobody would have accused me of being a bully. I still would have gone out there and done my job so well you couldn’t have slid a piece of paper between my fist and the other guy’s forehead. Sure, I was rough in the ring but I wasn’t the only one. I accept I was one of the roughest out there — probably top 10% — but there were a few people even I’d think twice about fucking with.
Obviously Steve Blackman is top of the list — he is as dangerous as they come. Kurt Angle and Ken Shamrock are legit badasses too, but Blackman would take them out in a heartbeat. Steve is so quick — I rolled with him a couple of times in practice, and before I knew it I was on my back. I’m decent enough at amateur wrestling to roll with some of the guys but nowhere near Steve’s or Kurt’s level. I countered Steve one time and threw him. He didn’t like that, so I got out of the ring in a flash. I didn’t want to die . . .
Dave Finlay might actually be the toughest guy in the locker room. I’m a cupcake compared to him. We’ve talked about Bradshaw already. Ron Simmons is just as tough as everybody says. You don’t fuck with Ron. Shelton Benjamin is legit tough too. He’ll tie you in a knot and make you smell your ass real quick. Steve Regal can go too; he’s a great talent and one tough motherfucker. Brian Kendrick would surprise you — he will take an ass-kicking and then fight back hard. If you try to kick his ass, you’re going to be there for a while. He’s so quick, he’ll make you wish you never started in on him. Same with Paul London — those two might not look tough, but you don’t want to mess with them. I wish they’d been given a better push, because they were two of the best WWE had. If management had given them a microphone and let them just be themselves, they would have made everybody a lot of money.
On the other hand, there are guys management wants you to believe are tough, but they’re not. It’s a shame because in MMA, the toughest of the tough are the champions. In the make-believe world of wrestling, some of the champions wouldn’t do too well in a real fight. Cena can’t fight. Triple H genuinely thinks he is a badass motherfucker and he really isn’t. Kevin Nash picked his spots — he would only call out guys he knew he could take. He wouldn’t have fought me because he knew I’d kill him. Steve Austin wasn’t as tough as they made him out to be on TV. I like Steve but that’s the truth. I’m not saying all these guys are pussies, but I wouldn’t want them to be backing me up in a bar fight. I’d want Blackman, Bradshaw, and Ron Simmons. Those are the guys to have in your corner.
A few of the boys have tried their hand at MMA when they got done with wrestling. Dave Batista had a great look for wrestling but I wasn’t sure how well MMA would work out for him. Once, when I was playing around with Dave in the ring before a show in Louisville, I tied his ass up. Kevin Fertig and a bunch of the other boys saw this go down. Dave started panicking and yelling, “Let me go!” Everybody laughed. He started in on Booker at another point and Booker knocked his ass out cold.
I really like Dave but I don’t think MMA is for him. In his first match, he was lucky he won. He was on defense the whole time until he got a takedown. I don’t know how far he’s going to get in MMA because there’s a difference between fighting some overweight guy and competing at the top level. Still, he said he was going to do it and he did, so people need to get off his back.
Obviously the most famous wrestler to go into MMA is Brock Lesnar. Before Brock got into MMA, I thought he might be the baddest man on the planet, but not any more. He may not be the
baddest but he’s still one tough motherfucker — you have to be to win the UFC title. I was surprised when Brock quit MMA but maybe I shouldn’t have been. He seems like he’s still trying to find his niche in the world and, once the fun is gone from something, he moves on. He has that financial freedom so he’s not motivated to keep going once he loses interest. Brock was perfect for MMA until his opponents figured out that he didn’t like to be hit in the face. It’s a shame, because if he had been able to take a punch, he could have been the all-time best in MMA. I would have loved to have fought Brock. I don’t know who would have won. You can never tell. If he wrestled me, I wouldn’t have a chance. If we were to stand there and throw punches, I bet I could beat him. I’ve proved I can take a punch.
I wish I’d been able to get into MMA early in my career. It started getting big in the mid ’90s but suddenly died. Then it exploded again about a decade later. By that time, I was too far along in my wrestling career, and my body was too broken to do it. If I’d have been 20 years younger, there’s no question in my mind — I would have trained to go into MMA rather than wrestling. How would I have done? It’s hard to say, but if I’d had decent training, I think I would have been good. It’s become so technical now that you’ve got to be well rounded in everything. If you’re not, you won’t be fighting for very long. I’d definitely have trained for at least a year before having my first fight.
I think I would have enjoyed the challenge. As far back as I can remember, through my teenage years and my bar-fighting days, I’ve thrived on fighting. To this day, if anybody fought me, whether I won or not, I’d enjoy the challenge of the fight. But it’s way too late for me to start MMA now. It’s frustrating that my body is broken after almost three decades of wrestling, but it is what it is. When you get into wrestling, you know it’s the price you will pay. You accept it and go on.
CHAPTER 27
COMING BACK FOR BROCK
They didn’t really build up much for my return. They asked me to fly up to Stamford and record a promo, which was fine. I had no idea what they wanted until we got there, but at least they were definitely going to have me work with Brock. We did a 30-second vignette where I said that Brock had taken 12 months of my life and now I was coming for him . . . I wasn’t coming for his title, I was coming to hurt him. It was a good promo but I thought they could have done a few more and built it up bigger. It was a good, real angle that could have drawn money.
Brock didn’t want to work with me. That didn’t help. He was fine with me when the injury happened and he was fine with me afterwards, but when our first match had happened, I was just somebody to get him over. When I came back, I was still not a top guy. They were going to put me, a mid-level job guy for about a decade, in there with the company’s biggest monster? Believe me, I understood why Brock wouldn’t want to work with me — he thought he damn sure wasn’t going to make any money from that. I wasn’t a draw, and unless they promoted the return really well, I wasn’t going to
be. As always, it was down to how they presented it onscreen. They didn’t build me up enough to make me look like a threat to him. There was no reason why not — we had a solid, genuine reason why I would want to fight him and hurt him. That’s easy for the fans to buy into. But rather than doing it properly, they hot-shotted the idea and threw it together too quick.
A couple of weeks after the promo aired, they had me tape a conversation with Paul Heyman, the GM of Smackdown. Then Paul banned me from the building, promising that if I left immediately, I’d be on the team against Brock at Survivor Series. After doing the promo where I said I was coming back to hurt Brock, here I was, putting my tail between my legs and behaving myself. It didn’t make sense to me. We got to Survivor Series and they had me attack Brock before the match started. I got a few shots in before they disqualified me and sent me to the back. The idea was to stop us from having anything more than brief physical contact so that people would want to see us fight more. On Smackdown the next week, they had me run in from the crowd and attack Brock. It got a fucking huge pop and the crowd was into it. Then Heyman suspended me indefinitely. Even though the first promo hadn’t been enough, this was starting to get good. A couple of weeks later, they had me do the same thing — this time, I dressed up as a fan with a mask, jumped the rail, and beat on Brock until officials separated us. Again, it got a huge reaction. We had the ball rolling now, they just needed to put me over some people to make me look like I could actually be a threat to Brock.
Heyman put a match together for which he would choose my tag partner and we would have to fight A-Train (a massive jobber) and Matt Morgan (the big rookie from Tough Enough 2). If I won, I would be reinstated. If I lost, I’d be gone for good. He gave me Shannon Moore, a guy who did frequent jobs, as my partner and we won. It was meant to help me get over but I beat one new guy (Morgan) and one guy who everybody beat (A-Train). That wasn’t enough to get me to Brock’s level. They figured then that they’d have me go over on the Big Show and that would be enough. But everybody beat the Big Show back then! We did two matches on Smackdown and, in the first one, I lost by disqualification because I kicked him square in the balls. This set up a no-DQ match the next week, and I beat him clean and bloodied him up. That was supposed to be what made me a threat to Brock, but it was too little, too late as far as I was concerned. I beat Big Show once and beat some irrelevant guys in tag matches. I told the writers that I needed to be beating guys who meant something, rather than being a jobber who was beating other jobbers. If they wanted to make something of me, they should have had me cutting through Heyman’s guys and beating them clean, one on one. If it got me over and I was able to draw money with Brock, great. If it didn’t, at least I’d be higher up the card and they would be able to use me to get some other guys over more. It seemed like a win-win situation to me, but what do I know . . .