The Realest Guy in the Room: The Life and Times of Dan Severn

by Dan Severn

  It’s not just enough to be tough and then think you can develop into a champion. By and large, the people who become MMA champions were experts of a fighting discipline long before they decided to enter the world of mixed martial arts, and the majority of them started wrestling when they were five, six, or seven years old.

  A lot of today’s top amateur wrestlers want to use their amateur wrestling skills to make some money in mixed martial arts straight out of high school, and plenty of colleges are angry about that.

  These college programs, and all other amateur wrestling programs, need to embrace the MMA trend, because there’s no real way to make money in the sport of amateur wrestling, and all of the past attempts to turn amateur wrestling into its own form of a professional sport have failed.

  USA Wrestling will give you some money if you place high at a world championship event or at the Olympic Games, but it’s a mere pittance compared to the money earned from maintaining any serious, full-time job.

  Lots of wrestlers, including myself, had to take jobs just to pay basic bills while pursuing their wrestling dreams. I took my initial job as the assistant wrestling coach at Arizona State just to have other athletes to work out with in order to extend my career and keep my dreams alive, and I made $3,200 a year.

  Could I live on that? Hell, no. I defy anyone else in the United States to try to live on that either.

  The bottom line is, mixed martial arts has been as good for amateur wrestling as amateur wrestling has been good for mixed martial arts. No matter what, I’m honored to have been the guy to introduce amateur wrestling to mixed martial arts, and to have created a more lucrative career path for so many amazing athletes.

  A FEW months after the Mark Coleman fight, I was part of a memorable incident involving one of pro wrestling’s greatest legends.

  I get asked a lot if I got into a fight with wrestling legend Dory Funk Jr. What actually happened between us in Gainesville, Florida was one of the greatest works in professional wrestling’s recent history, and it involved Dory, his wife Marti, NWA President Howard Brody, and myself.

  During dinner the night before the show, we all sat around the table and pieced together how we wanted the altercation to take place. After the show ended, and there were very few people in the building, I headed back out of locker room and had words with Marti, who was standing by Howard Brody. She threw some water on me, and I said something to her that wasn’t particularly polite.

  Dory stepped in to intervene on his wife’s behalf, and we got into an altercation that was mostly verbal. Even though half of the canvas had already been removed, and we still ended up back in the ring.

  Eventually, I backed down, because I didn’t want to engage in an altercation with him at that moment, and it ultimately led to a match with him at a later show where we wrestled to a draw.

  In the moment, though, things were so well executed that a lot of the boys were really upset with the way things happened, including Fred ‘Typhoon’ Ottman, who was also involved in one of the most notorious screw-ups in wrestling history as The Shockmaster. I went back to the locker room, grabbed my gear and just stormed off.

  If you can work the boys, you know you’ve done a pretty good job, and the fact that some people still think I had a legitimate altercation with Dory Funk Jr. says something about how solid our acting abilities were that evening.

  TWENTY-SIX

  AFTER LOSING TO MARK COLEMAN, I went undefeated in my next twenty-four fights. I remember far more about the losses and draws in my career than I remember about my wins, and one of the draws I had during my twenty-four-fight unbeaten streak was against Jeremy Horn.

  I was approached by promoter Monte Cox who’d already hosted a few Extreme Challenge events, and he wanted to get me on his next fight card in Council Bluffs, Iowa.

  “I don’t have anybody for you, though, Dan,” he admitted. “I’ve got this one guy who’s popular in the area, but he’s a lot smaller than you.”

  “Who is he?” I asked him.

  “Jeremy Horn,” said Monte.

  “Give me Jeremy Horn, and I’ll give you a star,” I proclaimed.

  “What do you mean?” he questioned.

  “Just set it up,” I ordered.

  During the match, it became clear that Jeremy’s hands really sucked. I was striking him and knocking him down, but I didn’t want to finish the match too early because I wanted to give the crowd some excitement, and I’d also promised Monte I would make a star out of his up-and-coming fighter.

  Every time I knocked Jeremy down, I would back away and allow him to get back up. Finally, he didn’t get up even though I’d given him adequate room to do so. I waved for Jeremy to get up, and he responded by waving for me to come down to him. So, like a good professional wrestler, I acknowledged him, and then I jumped into the air.

  Jeremy’s eyes got as big as saucers.

  Fortunately for Jeremy, I knew how to land without hurting him. I came down and body splashed him like I was the Ultimate Warrior, and the crowd went crazy.

  I was giving the audience a taste of professional wrestling mixed in with their MMA, almost like it was a UWFi event, but my opponent had no idea what I was doing. This is just one more example of how a truly talented fighter knows how to work a shoot, and shoot a work.

  THE MOST irritating draw of my career is probably the one recorded from my fight against Kimo Leopoldo in the first-ever Pride Fighting Championships show in Japan.

  Kimo was another guy who somehow became a legend without ever winning anything of consequence. His proudest moment came when he lost to Royce Gracie in the first round of the UFC 3 tournament, and Vince McMahon and the WWE were somehow so impressed by him that they took the voodoo-wielding wrestler Papa Shango, dressed him up like Kimo and called him Kama.

  Like Coleman and Shamrock, Kimo was another major steroid user. He had a tattoo of Jesus on his belly, and I used to say that Kimo had swelled to such a huge size that, “Jesus never looked so buff.”

  Because the fight took place in a Pride ring, which was almost exactly like a wrestling ring, Kimo was able to grab the ropes and hang on for dear life every time I tried to take him down.

  I managed to take him down anyway, and as soon as I went into ground-and-pound mode, he started squirming away, leaving a trail of blood in his wake, as he escaped under the ropes.

  There’s no question that if the fight had taken place in a UFC cage, there would’ve been nowhere for Kimo to flee. If there had been judges that night, I definitely would’ve won, but Pride’s rules at the time stipulated if a fight went the full thirty-minutes, it was automatically considered a draw.

  During the post-fight press conference, one of the interviewers asked me how I felt about the match being ruled a draw. To summarize my feelings, I can simply say I was pissed.

  “I don’t accept this!” I said. “Let’s go right out there and finish this! Who put a time limit on this? Let’s go back in and finish this! Let’s fight until someone is unconscious!”

  I’m fairly certain the Japanese media wasn’t expecting an outburst like that from me.

  In the main event of Pride’s first show, former UWFi star Nobuhiko Takada lost to Royce Gracie’s older brother, Rickson Gracie, in his first real MMA fight.

  It serves him right.

  Remember, this was the guy who presented himself as the best real fighter in the world when we were both in the UWFi and forced me to lose matches to him even though I knew I could’ve destroyed him in a true fight.

  When he retired, Takada’s career record stood at two wins, six losses and two draws, with all of his fights having taken place in Japan.

  In my four fights in Japan, I’m undefeated.

  Ain’t karma a bitch?

  I KNOW I participated in a lot of fights by most people’s standards, but it never really occurred to me how quickly I was racking up fights as it was happening.

  Seriously, I’d open up my planner and try to arrange things to ma
ke sure that I stayed as busy as possible, and a fight on the calendar was simply another source of revenue that I could build other money-generating events around.

  The goal was always to maximize my earning potential. If I was headed to a location for a wrestling match, I would get in touch with a local MMA promoter and look for a fight card to get on. Likewise, I’d get in contact with local sports bars to arrange autograph signings, and then possibly get in touch with a local law enforcement agency to try to schedule a training seminar with the police department.

  I always tried to make it a point to get booked on the local radio stations when I made it to a town. The radio hosts normally enjoyed having me on because I tried to help them entertain the listening audience while drawing attention to whatever events I was in town to promote.

  I’ve seen way too many fighters who’ve walked into radio stations and then sit there trying to look as big and bad as possible, not realizing that no one can see how tough they look during a radio broadcast!

  I always tried to throw in some comedy to throw the hosts for a loop.

  If a guy asked me how I was doing during an interview, I’d say something like, “Four out of the five voices in my head say I’m okay today, but there’s just that one...”

  When they asked me how much longer I could stay on the air with them, I’d respond with, “Well, guys, you only have about fifteen more minutes before my Prozac wears off.”

  Things like this tend to resonate way more with an audience than simply trying to sound and act like a badass.

  Whatever my MMA record says right now is only based on what the internet watchdog companies like Sherdog or Full Contact Fighter were monitoring at the time.

  These record-keeping companies didn’t exist when no-holds-barred fighting and MMA were first getting started. They only came into existence several years after the fact, and in the beginning, they only paid close attention to the UFC.

  These sites can’t account for the times after no-holds-barred fighting became popular in the U.S. when businessmen would hand me pagers and tell me to wait for it to beep. Then a phone number would flash across the screen that I would call from a payphone, and a voice on the other end would inform me of a plane ticket that was waiting for me at the airport.

  Once I’d arrive at the airport, I would fly to wherever they directed me, and someone would be there to pick me up. After that, I’d be taken to a prearranged location where there would be tent set up, food and drink would be served, and festivities would be held.

  Specifically, I was expected to provide the festivities on those evenings, and it was clear I would be expected to fight another man.

  Because of situations like these, and because activities like these were unregulated and highly illegal, there are several matches I participated in that were never recorded.

  There was one fight I turned down that was being held just across the border in Mexico, and it was held by a company that intended to have rules even more liberal than those of the UFC during the no-holds-barred era, which meant this promotion would allow biting and eye gouging. They would even allow us to wear blue jeans and cowboy boots.

  Think about being kicked in the head by a cowboy boot for a second.

  This event was arranged to be held in an oversized cockfighting ring. First, they would start with cockfights, progress to dogfights, and then end with human beings. All species would be spilling blood in the same sand.

  Obviously, they offered me enough money - all in cash - to the point where I would entertain the idea of participating in the event, but that thought was quickly overridden by the idea that it would be far less expensive for them to take Dan Severn into an alley and shoot me as opposed to paying me my winnings. If they could get the entertainment out of me, kill me, and keep my money, it would be a three-for-one special!

  Fortunately, this is one of the events I turned down, but there are plenty that I accepted. This includes a match I had at a rock quarry in Iowa, and that fight definitely wasn’t recorded by Sherdog.

  And, in case you doubt me, ask around. I wasn’t the only one participating in these events; these were big shows that were taking place.

  People think when things shifted from the no-holds-barred rules to MMA, it was an instant switch across the entire United States, but it wasn’t; the acceptance of the unified rules went state by state by state.

  I might have been in the middle of a match in North Dakota with my opponent down, and I’d have to think to myself, “I don’t know if I’m allowed to do the moves I’m thinking about doing to this guy.”

  In cases like this, I’ve literally looked over at the referee and asked, “Hey, ref… am I allowed to elbow this guy? Knee him in the head?”

  I was tipping my opponents off as to what I was planning to do to them, but I didn’t feel like getting any rules violations called against me.

  When you were traveling as much as I was, either fighting, teaching, or defending the NWA championship in any of the growing number of independent wrestling promotions that were sprouting up back then, you’re bound to have some perilous things happen to you no matter what your mode of transportation is.

  I always told people that if I was ever in a plane crash, I’d be the one person who would somehow manage to get up and walk away from it, because that’s the kind of person I am. On one occasion, I thought I might actually have to live up to that guarantee.

  I was flying out of Denver, and as the plane was taking off, there was a loud boom. The plane swerved all over the runway, and yet it somehow still managed to elevate off the ground. There had been plenty of screaming, hollering and commotion going on in the aircraft following the noise and the swerving, but things quickly calmed down once we were airborne. The silence was then broken by the voice of the captain over the loudspeaker.

  “Something happened upon take-off, but we don’t know what it is just yet,” the voice said.

  Once a plane is off the ground, you can’t exactly step outside to see what the problem is. We started to swoop low, making aerial passes by the terminal so that airport workers on the ground could use binoculars in an attempt to see what had happened to our aircraft.

  It turned out that, during take-off, two of the tires on the landing gear exploded. Rather than taking us back to the airport, they kept us airborne to burn off fuel, and we were rerouted to an auxiliary landing strip. In my mind, “auxiliary landing strip” meant “crash and burn away from the public.” They were sending us away so that when we hit the earth and turned into a fiery ball, we wouldn’t be taking anybody else with us.

  The stewardesses instructed us all to bend over with our heads between our legs, but I remained upright. If I was going to meet my Maker, I wanted to watch it coming, and if they were going to find all of our bodies, did it really matter if my body was curled over in a ball or sitting straight up?

  As we got closer to the landing strip, I looked through the window, and I could see fire trucks and other emergency vehicles lining the runway. I guessed they probably had body bags with them, too.

  I said my prayers as the earth came closer, knowing that we were all about to die.

  The pilot managed to tilt the aircraft down on the good set of tires first before coaxing the other side down onto the damaged set. Again, we swerved all over the runway. I imagined the pilots in the cockpit all straining with the brakes to bring the aircraft to a stop. He must’ve been up there performing the hardest leg press of his life into those brakes!

  We came to a halt pretty quickly, still alive, and everybody started cheering. The captain emerged from the cockpit dripping with sweat, but with a smile plastered all over his face.

  Being compared to Ric Flair favorably is almost always an honor, but I didn’t want to have to be known as the other NWA World Heavyweight Champion who survived a devastating plane crash.

  Fortunately, I didn’t have to be.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  WHEN THE BIG WRESTLING COMPANIES finally came callin
g during professional wrestling’s Monday Night Wars, Vince McMahon and the WWE made the first overture toward me, and then Eric Bischoff and WCW eventually got around to it as well.

  During my meeting with Bischoff, I recall him smiling at me and saying, “Danny, I envisioned you as a car crash at the Indianapolis 500!”

  I never quite knew how I was supposed to take that description.

  In any case, I think when Vince McMahon caught wind of the fact that WCW was also looking to sign me, he made sure my contract with the WWF was finalized shortly thereafter.

  I was in negotiations with the two companies for around a year before I finally made my first appearance in the WWE. The biggest sticking point in the negotiations was that I didn’t want to have any sort of exclusivity in my contract as a condition of appearing for either of them.

  In fact, Ken Shamrock and I were approached around the same time period, but he started with the WWE a year before me primarily because I didn’t want to be exclusive to them.

  As far as I know, I’m still the only wrestling talent since that era to have a true non-exclusive WWE contract allowing me to work for anybody, including the NWA territories, independent promotions, and even ECW if I’d ever gotten around to it.

  By this point, I was already thinking in terms of my age, and how it didn’t make sense for me to put all my eggs into one professional basket as I entered my forties. With the WWE, I was initially going to be looking at a two-year guaranteed contract, and I didn’t want to put every other aspect of my life on hold for that long. If things didn’t work out in the WWE, it would be a tough re-entry into the other professions I was involved in.

  During that time, the average WWE wrestler was working 187 dates, not including the travel to and from the show venues. By contrast, my one-year contract only required me to work sixty dates for the WWE, whether they were pay-per-view events, RAW episodes that aired on the USA Network, or house shows.