Wrestling fans dream of meeting their heroes, right? Yeah, well, buckle up. Sometimes, it’s a little more awkward than you expect.
Stevie Richards/Triple H – March 7th, 2004
Location: Gold’s Gym, where dreams go to pump iron and shy guys like me go to sweat in front of wrestling legends.
I’m on a bike, minding my business, when I see HIM. Stevie Richards. Right there. Pedaling his life away. Now, I’ve been a Stevie Richards fan since his “Right to Censor” days, so naturally, I’m not going to let this chance pass. But of course, being me, I approach him all shy like I’m asking if I can borrow a pencil in high school. We had a brief conversation—well, more like I mumbled, and he probably pretended to listen. Then, just as I’m thinking “Wow, I’m totally best friends with Stevie now,” he tries to casually get rid of me by saying, “Hey, Kane’s over there. Don’t approach him though.” Which, of course, I absolutely didn’t do because, you know, I enjoy living.
As I’m leaving the gym, who walks in? Triple H, Arn Anderson, and some random trainer. Cue me holding the door open with the most awkward, over-eager “I gotta do this because it’s them!” look on my face. Triple H throws a “Thanks, bro!” my way, and I walk out of there feeling like I’m practically part of Evolution. Close enough, right?
AJ Styles & Christopher Daniels – March 26th, 2006
This one’s funny because usually, I don’t approach wrestlers when working backstage at MCW. They get enough fan love, and I like to pretend I’m cool and chill. Except AJ Styles wasn’t having that. Nope. The guy comes up to me, asking if I wanted a photo. Imagine that: AJ Styles—Mr. “I’m gonna change the business”—basically offering himself up for my Instagram feed (that didn’t even exist yet). Of course, I said yes, and right on cue, Christopher Daniels pops in like “Oh, you’re taking a photo? Guess I’ll join too.” Because who doesn’t need a picture with The Fallen Angel?
In all seriousness, these guys were class acts. Super polite, professional, and absolutely didn’t have to go out of their way to interact with me. But they did, and it was awesome. Maybe a little pretentious, but I’ll take it.
Dave Bautista – May 7th, 2006
Ah, Batista. The Animal. The guy I really wanted a photo with. But of course, life had other plans. The rumor mill was in full swing that night at MCW: Vince McMahon supposedly wanted him gone from the event ASAP. Why? Because he was injured and on the verge of a big comeback, and Vince didn’t want his golden goose anywhere near danger. Totally understandable. But me? I just wanted a photo.
So there I am, fumbling around for my camera like I’m trying to disarm a bomb, and before I know it, Batista bolts out of there faster than he hits a Spinebuster. No photo. No moment. Just me, a sad camera, and a bunch of rumors.
Abyss – February 25th, 2007
Abyss is one of those guys who could ask you to do anything, and you’d just do it because… well, have you seen Abyss? So when he hands me $30 and says, “Get me whatever this can buy from concessions and grab something for yourself,” you bet I’m gonna do it. I may not be smart enough to avoid making awkward small talk with wrestlers, but I’m not dumb enough to say no to a guy who swings around chains and thumbtacks for a living.
I grabbed him as much food as I could carry—look, I’m no slouch—and delivered it like a good little backstage gopher. He was pleased, and I felt like I did my part to keep a monster from starving. No photo this time, but hey, I got a thumbs up from Abyss. That’s worth something, right?
Chris Jericho – July 2007
Now, this is the one that still makes me cringe a little. Chris Jericho is sitting next to me, watching the Shane Shamrock Memorial Cup finals, casually chatting me up about who has the most potential in the ring. I, in my infinite wisdom, am gushing about Josh Daniels—because the guy was a killer talent—and I go ahead and say that his style reminds me of Chris Benoit.
Yeah. Benoit. Thirteen days after his death. To Jericho, who was one of Benoit’s closest friends.
The silence that followed was deafening. You could’ve heard a pin drop in that arena, and trust me, there were no pins in sight. I didn’t stick around to see Jericho’s reaction. I bolted. It was my cue to leave and pretend I never said anything. So, if you’re reading this, Jericho… sorry, man.
So, that’s (just a portion of) my life meeting some of the greatest professional wrestlers in the game. Some encounters were cool, some were awkward, and some I’ll probably never live down. But hey, at least I got a “Thanks, bro” from Triple H. That counts for something, right?
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