Saint Mick by Mick Foley

Author:Mick Foley [Foley, Mick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Polis Books
Published: 2017-08-17T00:00:00+00:00

A SLEIGH RIDE TOGETHER WITH YOU

I hadn’t actually sat down and talked to Mr. McMahon since my return to WWE in November, 2011. Although my mojo had returned on the microphone, my relationship with Mr. McMahon still wasn’t quite what it had been before my departure from the company in 2008. So when I asked for a meeting just a couple weeks before my April 6, 2013 induction into the WWE Hall of Fame, I was a little bit hesitant, not quite sure of how to approach the subject on my mind.

“Mr. McMahon, I’m not sure if you know this, but this induction is going to be very special to me,” I said.

“I know that,” Mr. McMahon replied, sincerely.

“Because Madison Square Garden was the arena that I grew up hitchhiking to, taking trains to...”

“I know that, Mick,” Mr. McMahon said, interjecting just slightly—letting me know in a subtle way that he was among the most busy men in the world and that I should probably get to my point.

“I’m not sure if you know this, but in my entire career, I never had any kind of special entrance or exit. Like I never had any pyrotechnics at all.” It’s true; you can look it up. Nothing at all. No smoke, no dry ice. Why, even Gillberg got a sparkler!

“OK,” he said, hearing me out.

“Well, umm, at the end of my speech, I’d like to...um, uh...”

“Yes, Mick—what would you like to do?”

“Well, um...”

“Yes?”

I swallowed hard and forced it out. “I’d like to fly...into the sky...on a sleigh with Santa Claus.”

I remember how I felt when I was seven years old and lost my Yoo Hoo on a class field trip. I was distraught, barely able to speak. In Mr. McMahon’s presence, I suddenly felt like that seven-year-old child without a Yoo Hoo when I choked out the words “because I love Santa.”

I needed a hug. Clearly Mr. McMahon should have known instinctively that I needed a hug. But unfortunately for that seven-year-old child with the missing Yoo Hoo, there was no hug forthcoming. Only some type of explanation from Mr. McMahon about WWE not having that type of technical ability and the loneliest of lonely feelings as he made his way from the room.

That moment, in incredibly exaggerated, highly imagined, blatantly reconstructed form would go on to be my favorite story in my one-man show for the next year. The company that had found a way for a bolt of lightning...A BOLT OF LIGHTNING to come down from a scoreboard in Indianapolis and strike the earth not 10 feet from where I had stood, in the first ever “Buried Alive” match in 1996—only moments after I had finished burying The Undertaker alive—could not find a way for a sleigh to rise into the air at Madison Square Garden, the most famous arena in the world—in the year 2013. For the non-wrestling fans out there, who might be only moments away from either returning this book or hoping a bolt of lightning

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