What Would Kevin Do?
12-10-2005, 03:47 AM
Apparently there's more to come
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ENTRY 1: Dec. 7, 2005:
In his first entry, Foley explains his feelings about joining the world of online writing. In future entries, Foley will provide his first-person account of what is sure to be a memorable and unusual experience:
Okay, I’ll admit up front that I’m a little nervous about writing this following Web log. For, I fully understand that once I give in to this whole computer thing, there may be no turning back. This is not technically the first time that I have contributed to the WWE Web site. I do believe that I wrote an article for it in the summer of 2003 and even kept a book tour diary throughout much of that same summer. But back then, I could comfort myself with the idea that I was not so much giving in to modern-day technology as much as I was blatantly trying to induce people to buy a book I had written. But this? This is different. This is Mick Foley entering a Web log simply to keep fans in the loop to let them know what I’m doing or thinking just for the mere … pleasure of it. It’s Mick Foley, the Hardcore Legend, the guy with the closet full of red flannels, finally giving up the good fight and accepting that the world has indeed changed and that I actually have to change with it.
I crumbled. So what? It happens to the best of us. At least I put up a fight. All good things eventually come to an end. I remember clinging on to my virginity with the same type of intestinal fortitude some 20 years ago until I finally accepted that minor — although it didn’t seem so minor at the time — lifestyle change. And in the end, I’ve given in to modern technology on my own terms. Two terms, to be specific: My first term was simple and non-negotiable. I would write the damn Web log, but I wouldn’t punch it in or type it in. I’d actually write down the thing inside my son’s 99-cent marble composition pad and let someone else on the WWE team type it or “punch it in” or whatever computer lingo people are using today.
That brings me to my second term: I’m fully intent on never using the word “blog” on my blog. Sorry, on my Web log. I will never be a “blogger,” nor do I want my Web log considered part of the “blog-o-sphere.” These are my conditions. Stick to them, and we’ll be fine. As much as it pains me to say this, I’m actually looking forward to writing more of these. As I write this, I am a little more than halfway through the longest day ever recorded — sitting on an Air Force transport plane — wedged into a seat that was never made for an ass like mine. I have a lot of thoughts about our “Tribute to the Troops” tour in Afghanistan, and I am looking forward to sharing them with you — sharing them with you via pen and paper on this, my very on Web log.
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ENTRY 2: Dec. 9, 2005:
Mick Foley continues his Web log from Afghanistan while getting ready to go on MSNBC’s “Rita Cosby: Live & Direct.” Mick describes his encounters with WWE Champion John Cena (http://www.wwe.com/superstars/raw/johncena/), two lovely Divas, a snoring Gene Snitsky (http://www.wwe.com/superstars/raw/genesnitsky/) and much more. Tomorrow, Foley will file Entry No. 3, which includes a highly emotional story from a visit to a local hospital:
5:15 a.m., local Afghan time:Let me state for the record in this, my second handwritten Web log entry, that Gene Snitsky can snore louder than any man on this planet. Perhaps somewhere on the plains of Africa there lies a pregnant rhinoceros (maybe the one Tajiri (http://www.wwe.com/superstars/raw/tajiri/) spoke of so eloquently on our last episode of RAW (http://www.wwe.com/shows/raw/)), making more offensive, guttural sleeping noises than Mr. Snitsky … perhaps. But as far as people go, Snitsky gets the nod. He’s the loudest there is, the loudest there was and the loudest there ever will be.
Several of us are scheduled to appear on Rita Cosby’s live MSNBC show this morning. Now, Rita’s show airs live at 9 p.m. (ET), so due to the fact that Afghanistan is somewhere in the vicinity of way the hell over on the other side of the world, I knew our wakeup call would be coming at a very early hour. I did not know, however, that Gene Snitsky’s own, personal alarm clock would see to it that no other wakeup call would be needed
Writer’s note: It was so loud that in between the first and second paragraph, I took solace on a doorstep in 30-degree weather in order to evade Snitsky’s onslaught.
I think we’re all very excited about Rita’s show. Not only has she treated us all right, but through adventurous and memorable days, she has become almost like one of the gang. I am truly thankful for her decision to take the trip with us. Most of us in the wrestling business accept that the mainstream news media is either going to ignore us or knock us, and I think most of us understand that Rita’s show will allow people back home to see us in a different, far more positive light than the one they’ve previously viewed us in.
My enthusiasm for this whole Web log thing may fizzle over time, but until that fizzling process begins, I am determined to offer WWE fans not only a different perspective on the big WWE issues of the day, but also a perspective on the smaller, sometimes overlooked moments that make the WWE experience so unique. After all, our WWE photographers and film crews do such a great job of capturing actions and emotions that describing them in words seems kind of unnecessary. I mean, fans can see in a heartbeat how excited the fans are about our trip. A vivid, Mick Foley description of “why the troops are excited” probably doesn’t add a whole lot to the situation.
But taking my pen and marble composition tablet behind the scenes of last night’s huge autograph extravaganza to reveal the clandestine and heretofore unreported note-passing process that took place between the table of Mick Foley/John Cena and the table of Ashley/Candice (http://www.wwe.com/superstars/raw/candice/) Michelle, I truly feel like my Snitsky-induced early wakeup will not have been in vain.
I have another statement for the record, at the time of the autograph session, I was tired. Really tired. Goofy tired. Understandably tired. We were finishing up our second, nonstop day of visiting bases and were giving the option of either eating at the mess hall or rest in our “hooches,” Army-speak for small, wooden buildings where several large wresters all sleep — separated only by some plywood. Do you know how fatigued WWE wrestlers have to be to all bypass a free meal in favor of a nap?
Writer’s note: It’s 8 a.m., and we have just returned from Rita’s show, which went really well, with the exception of my having casually mentioned on national television that I was writing a Web log about passing notes to beautiful girls at our autograph session. In other words, my clandestine encounter is not so clandestine anymore. Even worse, my wife will now find out about her husband’s note-passing ways and expect a full explanation.
Well, here goes: With more than 1,000 members of the U.S. military lined up in the cold to meet their favorite WWE Superstars (and Coach, too), you would surely expect each and every wrestler, Diva and TV personality to be at their most fired up for the good of the fans. Not this WWE Superstar. For the first half-hour of this extravaganza, I yawned, nodded off and displayed such little charisma that I was mistaken for Al Snow. To make things even worse, I couldn’t help but notice that the reaction I was harnessing — even when seated at the same table as WWE Champion John Cena — was not what I was expecting or used to. What was the deal? Gradually, after careful study, I came to realize just exactly what the deal was.
Cena and I were seated at the second table from the entrance, with the other members seated two-to-a-table for a total of 10 tables that looped in a semicircle around the building. Now, in my mind, a good autograph session is like a good wrestling card. It should build slowly, travel a tragedy of brilliant peaks and gentle drops and then climax with a crescendo. There in lies the problem: Cena and I were basically the second match on the card, following the opening match … Candice and Ashley. What a predicament! The fans were going absolutely crazy for the girls, who responded in kind by really lavishing attention on the service members. The crescendo, the climax, was occurring immediately, and Cena and I were left to try to pick the crumbs from the girls’ plate. Fearing for my reputation, I fired off an angry note to the Divas. As a Foley Web log exclusive, here is the angry note in its entirety:
Dear Candice and Ashley,
The Hardcore Legend and the WWE Champion are sitting together, but by the time fans get to us, they couldn’t care less. I was so excited about this autograph session, and now you’ve ruined it. Thanks a lot; you guys are really great friends.
Yours truly,
Mick Foley (The Hardcore Legend) & John Cena (The WWE Champion)
Really mature, right? But hey, it seemed to be just what the doctor ordered. Just seeing the two Divas laugh revived me in a way that a Red Bull, a diet coke and a double-shot of espresso had failed to do. We even got a note back — meaning that since for the first time since ninth-grade gym class, I was engaged in a full-fledged note-passing session. It was awesome.
So awesome, in fact, that there was only one way to top it: photo defacement. It started innocently enough with the blacking out of a couple of Lilian Garcia’s teeth on a “Tribute to the Troops” glossy photo of WWE Superstars and Divas. It graduated to drawing aviator goggles on Vince McMahon (a questionable move at best, considering that he signs the checks) before setting our sights firmly on the image of Coach. Time seemed to fly and Cena and I directed our considerable artistic talents into as many Coach creations as time would allow. There was Afro Coach; Mohawk Coach; Hasidic Coach; Pinocchio Coach; Kung-Fu Coach; El Coacho (Mexican masked wrestler); Mickey Mouse Coach; and others too ridiculous to mention. We even tried to create “Helluva Announcer” Coach, but we gave up in frustration when we deemed the task impossible. Hell, Vince McMahon has been trying to do the same thing for three years, and even he can’t pull it off.
I went back to the hooch in high spirits. Our time in Afghanistan has not only been a time of accomplishment, it has been a time of extreme laughter, bonding and even note-passing. It was a night to remember, a night to relive, which I was in the process of doing when Gene Snitsky’s snores, like a ringing alarm cutting off a wet dream, ruined it all.
Be sure to check back here for Mick Foley's next blog entry where he talks about his emotional meeting with a little boy in Afghanistan.
----------------
ENTRY 1: Dec. 7, 2005:
In his first entry, Foley explains his feelings about joining the world of online writing. In future entries, Foley will provide his first-person account of what is sure to be a memorable and unusual experience:
Okay, I’ll admit up front that I’m a little nervous about writing this following Web log. For, I fully understand that once I give in to this whole computer thing, there may be no turning back. This is not technically the first time that I have contributed to the WWE Web site. I do believe that I wrote an article for it in the summer of 2003 and even kept a book tour diary throughout much of that same summer. But back then, I could comfort myself with the idea that I was not so much giving in to modern-day technology as much as I was blatantly trying to induce people to buy a book I had written. But this? This is different. This is Mick Foley entering a Web log simply to keep fans in the loop to let them know what I’m doing or thinking just for the mere … pleasure of it. It’s Mick Foley, the Hardcore Legend, the guy with the closet full of red flannels, finally giving up the good fight and accepting that the world has indeed changed and that I actually have to change with it.
I crumbled. So what? It happens to the best of us. At least I put up a fight. All good things eventually come to an end. I remember clinging on to my virginity with the same type of intestinal fortitude some 20 years ago until I finally accepted that minor — although it didn’t seem so minor at the time — lifestyle change. And in the end, I’ve given in to modern technology on my own terms. Two terms, to be specific: My first term was simple and non-negotiable. I would write the damn Web log, but I wouldn’t punch it in or type it in. I’d actually write down the thing inside my son’s 99-cent marble composition pad and let someone else on the WWE team type it or “punch it in” or whatever computer lingo people are using today.
That brings me to my second term: I’m fully intent on never using the word “blog” on my blog. Sorry, on my Web log. I will never be a “blogger,” nor do I want my Web log considered part of the “blog-o-sphere.” These are my conditions. Stick to them, and we’ll be fine. As much as it pains me to say this, I’m actually looking forward to writing more of these. As I write this, I am a little more than halfway through the longest day ever recorded — sitting on an Air Force transport plane — wedged into a seat that was never made for an ass like mine. I have a lot of thoughts about our “Tribute to the Troops” tour in Afghanistan, and I am looking forward to sharing them with you — sharing them with you via pen and paper on this, my very on Web log.
----------------------------------
ENTRY 2: Dec. 9, 2005:
Mick Foley continues his Web log from Afghanistan while getting ready to go on MSNBC’s “Rita Cosby: Live & Direct.” Mick describes his encounters with WWE Champion John Cena (http://www.wwe.com/superstars/raw/johncena/), two lovely Divas, a snoring Gene Snitsky (http://www.wwe.com/superstars/raw/genesnitsky/) and much more. Tomorrow, Foley will file Entry No. 3, which includes a highly emotional story from a visit to a local hospital:
5:15 a.m., local Afghan time:Let me state for the record in this, my second handwritten Web log entry, that Gene Snitsky can snore louder than any man on this planet. Perhaps somewhere on the plains of Africa there lies a pregnant rhinoceros (maybe the one Tajiri (http://www.wwe.com/superstars/raw/tajiri/) spoke of so eloquently on our last episode of RAW (http://www.wwe.com/shows/raw/)), making more offensive, guttural sleeping noises than Mr. Snitsky … perhaps. But as far as people go, Snitsky gets the nod. He’s the loudest there is, the loudest there was and the loudest there ever will be.
Several of us are scheduled to appear on Rita Cosby’s live MSNBC show this morning. Now, Rita’s show airs live at 9 p.m. (ET), so due to the fact that Afghanistan is somewhere in the vicinity of way the hell over on the other side of the world, I knew our wakeup call would be coming at a very early hour. I did not know, however, that Gene Snitsky’s own, personal alarm clock would see to it that no other wakeup call would be needed
Writer’s note: It was so loud that in between the first and second paragraph, I took solace on a doorstep in 30-degree weather in order to evade Snitsky’s onslaught.
I think we’re all very excited about Rita’s show. Not only has she treated us all right, but through adventurous and memorable days, she has become almost like one of the gang. I am truly thankful for her decision to take the trip with us. Most of us in the wrestling business accept that the mainstream news media is either going to ignore us or knock us, and I think most of us understand that Rita’s show will allow people back home to see us in a different, far more positive light than the one they’ve previously viewed us in.
My enthusiasm for this whole Web log thing may fizzle over time, but until that fizzling process begins, I am determined to offer WWE fans not only a different perspective on the big WWE issues of the day, but also a perspective on the smaller, sometimes overlooked moments that make the WWE experience so unique. After all, our WWE photographers and film crews do such a great job of capturing actions and emotions that describing them in words seems kind of unnecessary. I mean, fans can see in a heartbeat how excited the fans are about our trip. A vivid, Mick Foley description of “why the troops are excited” probably doesn’t add a whole lot to the situation.
But taking my pen and marble composition tablet behind the scenes of last night’s huge autograph extravaganza to reveal the clandestine and heretofore unreported note-passing process that took place between the table of Mick Foley/John Cena and the table of Ashley/Candice (http://www.wwe.com/superstars/raw/candice/) Michelle, I truly feel like my Snitsky-induced early wakeup will not have been in vain.
I have another statement for the record, at the time of the autograph session, I was tired. Really tired. Goofy tired. Understandably tired. We were finishing up our second, nonstop day of visiting bases and were giving the option of either eating at the mess hall or rest in our “hooches,” Army-speak for small, wooden buildings where several large wresters all sleep — separated only by some plywood. Do you know how fatigued WWE wrestlers have to be to all bypass a free meal in favor of a nap?
Writer’s note: It’s 8 a.m., and we have just returned from Rita’s show, which went really well, with the exception of my having casually mentioned on national television that I was writing a Web log about passing notes to beautiful girls at our autograph session. In other words, my clandestine encounter is not so clandestine anymore. Even worse, my wife will now find out about her husband’s note-passing ways and expect a full explanation.
Well, here goes: With more than 1,000 members of the U.S. military lined up in the cold to meet their favorite WWE Superstars (and Coach, too), you would surely expect each and every wrestler, Diva and TV personality to be at their most fired up for the good of the fans. Not this WWE Superstar. For the first half-hour of this extravaganza, I yawned, nodded off and displayed such little charisma that I was mistaken for Al Snow. To make things even worse, I couldn’t help but notice that the reaction I was harnessing — even when seated at the same table as WWE Champion John Cena — was not what I was expecting or used to. What was the deal? Gradually, after careful study, I came to realize just exactly what the deal was.
Cena and I were seated at the second table from the entrance, with the other members seated two-to-a-table for a total of 10 tables that looped in a semicircle around the building. Now, in my mind, a good autograph session is like a good wrestling card. It should build slowly, travel a tragedy of brilliant peaks and gentle drops and then climax with a crescendo. There in lies the problem: Cena and I were basically the second match on the card, following the opening match … Candice and Ashley. What a predicament! The fans were going absolutely crazy for the girls, who responded in kind by really lavishing attention on the service members. The crescendo, the climax, was occurring immediately, and Cena and I were left to try to pick the crumbs from the girls’ plate. Fearing for my reputation, I fired off an angry note to the Divas. As a Foley Web log exclusive, here is the angry note in its entirety:
Dear Candice and Ashley,
The Hardcore Legend and the WWE Champion are sitting together, but by the time fans get to us, they couldn’t care less. I was so excited about this autograph session, and now you’ve ruined it. Thanks a lot; you guys are really great friends.
Yours truly,
Mick Foley (The Hardcore Legend) & John Cena (The WWE Champion)
Really mature, right? But hey, it seemed to be just what the doctor ordered. Just seeing the two Divas laugh revived me in a way that a Red Bull, a diet coke and a double-shot of espresso had failed to do. We even got a note back — meaning that since for the first time since ninth-grade gym class, I was engaged in a full-fledged note-passing session. It was awesome.
So awesome, in fact, that there was only one way to top it: photo defacement. It started innocently enough with the blacking out of a couple of Lilian Garcia’s teeth on a “Tribute to the Troops” glossy photo of WWE Superstars and Divas. It graduated to drawing aviator goggles on Vince McMahon (a questionable move at best, considering that he signs the checks) before setting our sights firmly on the image of Coach. Time seemed to fly and Cena and I directed our considerable artistic talents into as many Coach creations as time would allow. There was Afro Coach; Mohawk Coach; Hasidic Coach; Pinocchio Coach; Kung-Fu Coach; El Coacho (Mexican masked wrestler); Mickey Mouse Coach; and others too ridiculous to mention. We even tried to create “Helluva Announcer” Coach, but we gave up in frustration when we deemed the task impossible. Hell, Vince McMahon has been trying to do the same thing for three years, and even he can’t pull it off.
I went back to the hooch in high spirits. Our time in Afghanistan has not only been a time of accomplishment, it has been a time of extreme laughter, bonding and even note-passing. It was a night to remember, a night to relive, which I was in the process of doing when Gene Snitsky’s snores, like a ringing alarm cutting off a wet dream, ruined it all.
Be sure to check back here for Mick Foley's next blog entry where he talks about his emotional meeting with a little boy in Afghanistan.