Forgiven: One Man's Journey from Self-Glorification to Sanctification (25 page)

The magnificent statue cracked in about five places. All of a sudden somebody screamed. Hundreds of people came running to the scene, as if somebody had been shot. They dropped to their knees and fawned over this thing as if it were their own child.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said as I grabbed Dustin by the arm.

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Unfortunately, as I was grabbing Goldust, someone was grabbing me.

This secret-service-looking guy — suit, ear gimmick, the whole nine yards, took my arm and said, “You’re coming with me.” Okay, so I accepted the fact that this was going to be my first arrest.

I took one for the company — no big deal. It was a little scary that I was 3,000 miles from home, but what the heck? Let’s just get this thing over with. So, this secret-service guy leads me into a building and down the stairs. What, am I going to get interrogated now? Is this
Midnight Express?
Is a strip-search next? Just tell me! Okay, so now I’m staining my pants a little. Finally Joe Secret Service speaks. . . .

“We’ve got a problem,” he said.

I’m thinking — “It’s a statue, get over it.” But then I’m also thinking — “This is Hollywood, that golden bald man is like God out here

— I’m
done!”

“Did you touch anything you weren’t supposed to?” he asked.

Long pause. . . . “Well, I . . .”

He fired back, “Well you nothing! You moved a piece of carpet, didn’t you? The set designer saw you! You picked up a piece of the red carpet and you moved it.”

Holy Hollywood — these cia agents had no idea that we’d been responsible for crippling Oscar.

“Yes, yes I did it!” I confessed. “I’m sorry — I won’t touch another thing. As a matter of fact, we were just about to leave.” I was then released in my own custody. What a great story. The next one, however, is not so great.

Here is an example of how we all get caught up in this business: When Vince decided to Dr. Kevorkian Goldust, both Dustin and I were desperately trying to come up with alternatives for the character.

That should explain the mess that was “the Artist Formerly Known as Goldust.” Hey, desperate people do desperate things, what do you want me to tell you? What a cluster. It got to the point that I didn’t even know what Goldust was — we’d just stick him out there every week looking whacked, and maybe something would stick. But it never did — so now we had to shut down the life-support altogether.

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Vince Russo

However, moments before we were about to pronounce the character dead, I get a call from Dustin.

“Vince, I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Tell Vince if he pays me one million dollars, I will get implants.”

“What?” I said. “A penal implant?”

“No,” answered Dustin. “Breasts.”

Let me break that down for you. Dustin Rhodes was considering getting breast implants for the wrestling business. Mind you, I’m sure Dustin was reacting out of panic. I’m sure if he’d really thought this through — a man walking around with women’s breasts and all — he would have come to his senses . . . I think.

And yes, McMahon did contemplate it. But that’s what the business does to you. It makes sane men go nuts. I reached that point one night when I was with wcw. At a
Thunder
taping, I asked Kevin Nash to gig (cut with a razor blade) my forehead. Kevin looked at me like I was nuts — and I was. But that’s what the business does to you.

That’s why it has a shelf life. If you’re normal, you can only do it for so long. I knew that only a few months after I was hired. It wasn’t going to be the rest of my life. It was just too screwed-up.

Again, when you look at the business from the outside, it can blow your mind. After I left the wwf Vince and Shane McMahon had a wrestling match in which both of them bled like pigs. Now let’s step back and look at that. Here you have a
father
and a
son,
first off, taking ridiculous bumps that, if miscalculated by a fraction of an inch, could easily confine them to wheelchairs for the rest of their lives. Keep in mind these are not Hollywood stuntmen, they are merely two grown kids getting their wrestling high. In the past, both father and son had competed in the ring — but on those occasions they were always in there with a seasoned vet, someone who would protect them from hurting themselves. Wrestling each other, they were performing without a net. But that’s not enough. From there, the two — father and son — proceeded to
mutilate themselves
. In your wildest dreams could you ever ask your own flesh and blood, your son, to cut himself with a razor blade for the sake of a wrestling 176

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match? And even if you didn’t ask him — could you ever allow it?

It’s so disturbing. . . .

• • •

March 2002: Vince had just brought in the nwo (New World Order)

— Hogan, Nash and Hall — in an effort to revitalize plummeting ratings. He’s spent well over a million dollars on players that might arguably be past their prime. So here we are, less than two weeks before WrestleMania, we’ve got the “Primetime Players” in place, and what happens? The ratings go down two-tenths of a point. Vince must be pulling out his hair. Well, if he doesn’t get it now, there’s just no more defending him. . . .

It’s all in the writing, my friends — plain and simple. You can have the biggest stars in the world, but if the story stinks, the fans ain’t gonna buy it. It’s been proven time and time again — yet Vince McMahon still may not be getting it. Okay, let’s break it down.

DeNiro? Arguably the greatest actor of all-time.
 Minutes?
Bomb.

Jacknife
? Bomb.
The Score?
Take it or leave it.
Godfather ii?
Epic.

Goodfellas?
Epic.
Casino?
Epic. So, the question is, how can an actor go from Bomb to Epic? The answer is simple: the written word. An actor is only as good as his part — plain and simple. You want more proof? Look at the
Seinfeld
cast. Explain how Jason Alexander, Michael Richards and Julia Louis-Dreyfus went from the greatest sitcom of all time, to individual shows that were cancelled in the amount of time it takes you to get up and relieve yourself during a commercial break. The answer is obvious. Larry David, one of the cofounders of
Seinfeld
, is a genius. The guy could make a star out of anybody — just by putting them in the right situation, with the right words. You think Jerry Seinfeld was a good actor? Stars don’t bring ratings — at the end of the day writers bring ratings.

Look at some of the guys that were so over during my stint as a writer — Val Venus, Goldust, Mark Henry. Where are these guys now?

They’re dead, because nobody knows what to do with them. “Sexual Chocolate” is your best-case scenario. You think the fans really cared 177

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Vince Russo

that Mark Henry couldn’t work (wrestle)? No, but they cared when he put on the charm to get down with Chyna. Same with Val Venus

— you think his “work rate” got him over? What show were you watching? “Work rate” (wrestling ability) today is less than 50 percent of the formula, in my opinion. I was hated at wcw when I was on tv

— did I know how to work? People who still think “work rate” is everything are 25 years behind the times.

The day Shawn Michaels left the wwf because of a severe back injury I said, “Shawn Michaels will never have to work another wrestling match again — because he will be over forever.” And that’s the truth — Shawn is an “entertainer.” Put him in the right situation, with the right script, and he’s the hottest thing you’ve got. I’m so sick of people not understanding the significance of good writing — not only in sports entertainment, but in television and movies as well.

Look at shows on hbo. Why do you think they’re some of the best in the history of television! Listen to the dialogue — some of those programs are so well-written it makes me want to cry. Those writers are the real stars.

And, since we’re on the subject of writers. . . .

• • •

Man, when I knew Stephanie she was still so innocent, so naïve.

Having just recently graduated from college, Stephanie McMahon was moved into the Titan Tower offices to learn the business. After his graduation, Shane went through a somewhat similar process. During that time, Vince kept Stephanie close — walking her through every step of the way, protecting her from the evil known as the “wrestling business.” Vince guided her with marshmallow hands, much the same way I would have handled my own daughter. Stephanie’s office was even adjacent to Vince’s, on the fourth floor. Vince wanted to know what his little girl was doing at all times.

And what a sweetheart Stephanie was. Just the warmest, kindest, funniest woman you’d ever want to know. But like her mother, Linda, Stephanie probably had no business being in this business. If she 178

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hung around long enough it was going to scar her, you just knew it.

After her education inside the office, Vince introduced Stephanie to life on the road with the wwf superstars. For a few months, Steph traveled everywhere with us, just looking, listening and learning.

God, it seemed like she was still a little girl back then. I can remember winter hats pulled around her childish face — she was everybody’s kid sister.

So I guess in a lot of ways, I feel responsible — even though it would have happened anyway. I was the one who proposed to Vince that we put Steph on television. Vince was doing an angle with the Undertaker at the time. Again, reality tv. If ’Taker really wanted to get to Vince McMahon, who would he go after? His most prized possession — his little girl. Even though the television audience had never seen Stephanie, at the time it was a no-brainer. After days trying to convince Vince, he caved. He gave the green light, and Stephanie McMahon was suddenly appearing on television.

God, those early days were awful. Remember how Vince used to make her dress? Sneakers, pigtails — it was horrendous. Stephanie was a beautiful young woman — why not portray her as one? But no way — in Vince’s eyes she was still his little girl, and she was going to dress, speak and act the part.

And like a McMahon, Stephanie was good. Like her father and brother, she was a natural. (No disrespect to Linda, but she could use a few lessons.) I was so proud of Stephanie — to throw her out there and have her perform the way she did, what a bonus for the company.

What a difference a year makes.

I couldn’t believe it when a grown-up Stephanie McMahon showed up on wwf programming months after I left. In the story line she had married Triple H and gone from daddy’s girl to bitch from hell in light speed. But it was okay. I always thought Stephanie was beautiful —

why not take advantage of that? I liked Stephanie’s role on camera —

it’s her current role behind the scenes that I question.

Why would Vince feed his own daughter to the savages the way he has? The only thing I can compare it to is putting Stephanie at third 179

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Vince Russo

base, without a glove, against a Yankee lineup consisting of nine right-handed hitters who usually pull the ball. In essence, Vince replaced me with Stephanie, as she now heads the creative team of the wwf. All I can say is — wow! What a position to put your own daughter in.

That spot is thankless — it’s a no-win situation. Dealing with the politics, the paranoia, the insecurity of the boys, it literally takes years off your life. And I was a male, and about 15 years older. Man, I’m sorry, but Vince put Stephanie in an impossible position. She has been the target of everyone’s attacks as the wwf product continues to suffer. What a shame.

But I will tell you this — for those who want to blame the bulk of the company’s problems on Stephanie, look again. First of all, she is surrounded by a mixture of wrestlers-turned-writers, and writers who lack a real knowledge of wrestling. Add to that the fact that at the end of the day, it’s Vince’s business, and that Vince makes the final call. Lighten up, it’s not her fault.

The failure to generate ratings goes a lot further than Stephanie McMahon.

You know, it just dawned on me. You must have read that last line and thought, “That’s great, Russo — you’re the Tuesday-morning quarterback now. Anybody can make the show better on Tuesday morning.” You know what I believe? There is no question that I could make
Raw
a better show —
tomorrow
. What blows my mind is how Vince has forgotten what actually brought us to the dance. It’s not rocket science, but as day after day goes by, and you’re listening to yes-men who don’t (and never will) get it, your product is going to suffer.

Do I have the answers? I sure do. But if you think I’m going to spell them out for Vince for the price of this book, hey, my friend Howard Weiner has a bridge, a book and a building he wants to sell you. . . .

It’s funny, but when tna was starting up and they were talking with me about joining them, I caught wind of a comment made by one of the people in charge, “If Vince Russo was that good, why isn’t he still working in the business?”

That attitude has always been fascinating to me. People associated 180

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with the wrestling business actually have this notion that there is nothing outside of it. If you’re not in it, it’s because you’re not good enough. Let me ask you this — could there even be the
slightest
chance that I’m no longer in the wrestling business because I choose not to be? Is that possible? Is it possible that rather than being at an arena every Monday and Tuesday night, I’d rather be at home watching
Everybody Loves Raymond
with my kids?

Just a thought.

• • •

So, as I was saying before I rudely interrupted myself, a lot happened for me during the Goldust era. It was probably the turning point of my career. What I took away from that time was confidence — now
I
knew
I could do it. I knew I could create new characters and feed them story lines that no one in the business had ever seen. I knew I was light years ahead of the rasslin’ business. But at the time, all I could do was take Jack Lanza’s advice: “Be patient.” So, during that time I worked my butt off for the company. I did everything that was ever asked of me. I was overseeing two magazines, writing promos for the boys, writing and producing vignettes introducing new characters (this is where I first meet Jeff Jarrett — but more on him later), sitting in on voice-overs — I lived at Titan Tower. I was a man possessed! Looking back now, I don’t know why. I was so caught up in the moment that I just couldn’t see or hear anything else . . . including, again, my own family.