by Brock Lesnar
I didn’t just want to rebound because of my fighting career. My son Turk was getting bigger and stronger every day, and I wanted him and my daughter, Mya, to grow up with a healthy father they could do things with. Rena was pregnant with our son Duke. I was motivated for a lot of reasons, but the most important reason I wanted to get back to being the “Brock Lesnar” that I knew was becuase my wife and children deserve the best.
UFC asked me to attend the Carwin vs. Mir fight so we could promote the Title Unification fight, which ended up being scheduled for July 3 in Las Vegas. I knew Dana and Lorenzo were happy, because either Carwin was going to knock Frank out and go to 12–0, so they could promote the Return of Brock Lesnar against this undefeated Knockout King, or Frank Mir would get lucky again, and we’d go for three, the big rubber match between me and Frankie.
Carwin knocked out Frank in the first round, and I can’t say I’m surprised. Frank Mir was so obsessed with me, he was like a stalker. Everything in his life revolved around getting back into the Octagon with me, and he was looking right past his opponent. You can’t do that, especially when you’re fighting a guy with heavy hands like Shane Carwin.
Dana never told me he was going to call me into the Octagon when they were interviewing the winner of the fight, but I knew it was coming. The last time anyone had seen me in UFC was after I beat Frank, and I was giving the crowd the double bird and pissing off the sponsors. I wasn’t looking for controversy with Shane Carwin, but I wasn’t running from it either. When Carwin said winning the Interim Championship was this great big achievement, I just told it like it is. It’s a fake title and that’s a fake title belt. I actually felt bad for him if that was really the greatest moment in his life.
Training for Shane Carwin, we brought in Peter Welch, a famous boxing coach from Boston. Even though I broke Heath Herring’s face with one punch and knocked out Randy Couture, I still hadn’t learned the core basics in boxing. I wanted to find a grassroots boxing coach to help me learn how to get my feet underneath me. I had this great wrestling base, but how can I use that to my advantage, and combine my years of training as a wrestler with something as simple as a new stance so that when I punch, I’m punching from my feet to my hands. I wanted to learn the fundamentals, and Peter was the right guy to teach me these things.
Peter brings a lot of energy into everything he does, and that’s infectious. He fit right in with my coaching staff. That’s another key. All of my trainers have to respect the fact that it’s Marty Morgan who calls the shots. I’ve seen situations with other fighters where there are too many chiefs and not enough Indians. In my camp, Marty’s the boss. We do things his way, because he knows what he’s doing. He proved that to me at the University of Minnesota. J Robinson may have technically been the head coach, but Marty was the one who worked hard at developing that bond with me. Today it’s no different. I trust Marty, because he’s earned my trust. Peter Welch was used to running the show, but he adapted very quickly, and he became a huge asset.
With my wife pregnant, I knew I could ask for more time before I had to defend my title against Shane Carwin. Hell, I just came off my deathbed. UFC would have granted me any reasonable extension of time I requested, but I wanted to get back into the Octagon. It’s the old expression about falling off a horse. You have to get right back on that pony and ride until you know you’re the master again. I don’t know how many more fights I will commit to in my fighting career, but I do know that when my career is over, it will be because I made the decision that my time was up. I’m not going to let fate make that decision for me. I want to see my career through to the end, on my own terms.
I felt the same way about Shane Carwin challenging me for my title. I just didn’t see him as the guy to end my championship reign. I wasn’t working this hard, sacrificing this quality time with my infant son, putting my wife through another pregnancy practically by herself, just to get knocked out by Shane Carwin.
We brought in a lot of wrestlers with heavy hands to mimic Carwin, because we knew that he not only had one-punch knockout power but also was a Division II National Champion. I knew my wrestling was superior to his, but those hands were something to deal with. As long as I could avoid Carwin nailing me on the chin, there was nothing to worry about. I was determined not to get hit.
Right before the fight, referee Josh Rosenthal told us both, “This is for the UFC Heavyweight Championship, so I’m going to give both of you a fighter’s chance. As long as you can answer my questions, and intelligently defend yourself, I’m letting the fight go on.”
My biggest problem walking into the Octagon against Carwin was that I was so determined not to get hit, to avoid getting knocked out, that I stepped into the cage all tensed up. No matter who you are, or how tough you think you can be, that’s a recipe for disaster. It actually almost cost me the fight.
That first round was a real test. Shane Carwin hit me hard, and he had me backpedaling. I had my bell rung, but I stayed calm. I don’t know how to describe it, but all the time Carwin was pounding on me, it kind of woke me up, made me remember who I am. Was I nervous that Josh Rosenthal was going to stop the fight? Yes I was.
I was answering him, but I was also defending myself and watching for an opening to get out of the predicament. I couldn’t hear my corner, and that’s when a fighter finds out how much heart he has. All the training . . . all the trainers . . . all the sparring partners . . . all the sparring matches . . . none of it matters unless you have the heart of a champion. When you have a big strong athlete like Shane Carwin doing everything he can to knock you out, you can either fold under the pressure or weather the storm.
With every punch he threw, I could tell Carwin was shooting his wad. Each punch was a little lighter than the previous one. In many ways, that first round was exactly like my battle with diverticulitis. I just had to persevere. I was very fortunate that the fight wasn’t stopped. I don’t think it should have been, but there have been bad decisions made before.
When Carwin exhausted himself throwing punches one after another, I made my move. I got to my feet and muscled him up against the fence. I just wanted to survive that first round. It would sum up what I had been through the past eight months. I’d be able to get back to my corner and regroup, but it would also destroy Carwin’s confidence. He hit me with everything he had and couldn’t put me away. I could feel him breathing as I just pinned him up against the cage. He was done. No one had ever survived the first round with this guy, and I not only accomplished that, but I took everything he had and was still up on my feet controlling him as the round ended.
As soon as I got back to my corner, Marty asked how I was doing. I grinned at him, and said, “I’m doing great.” Marty said, “Good, then put him away!” I had just taken a beating, but I felt fine, almost relieved. I was so concerned about getting knocked out after being out of the Octagon for a year, and now I knew there was no way my opponent was going to even luck into a knockout. There are two words that just don’t go together in the English language . . . TIRED and DANGEROUS. Shane Carwin was tired.
Two minutes into the second round, it was all over. I got a takedown on Carwin, and forced him to tap to a choke. Just like UFC 100 against Frank Mir, it was Comprido who came up with the strategy for how to finish off Carwin. We figured Carwin’s camp was going to study whatever tapes they could of me, and there weren’t many, because I only had four fights in UFC. Carwin was going to be careful about the half crucifix I used against Frank Mir. Comprido thought as soon as I took Carwin down and went for any kind of headlock choke, Carwin would get his arm in there, because that’s the natural defense to the move. “He’s going to want to get his body in toward yours,” Comprido kept telling me as we worked on the variation of the choke over and over again in training camp, “but if you spread out, and use your wrestling base, you’ll submit this guy.”
When Joe Rogan interviewed me after the fight, I didn’t say any
thing controversial. Like I always do, I spoke from the heart. “I am a man blessed by God,” I told the world, and I truly felt that way. My wife was ready to give birth to my son Duke . . . I had come off my deathbed and defended my title . . . and I got through that first round beating to tap out Shane Carwin. I was in a great place. What more could I want out of life?
Epilogue
It is Sunday, March 20, 2011, and my deadline to finish this book is tomorrow morning. I was going to end it with a chapter about my fight with Cain Velazquez. But after all of these months, I’ve still never even watched the tape. I don’t even want to think about it. I’m not ready yet.
I don’t know how to approach it. A lot of things have crossed my mind. Part of me wants to move on and forget about it. But the athlete in me knows that I have to face my mistakes and learn from them if I want to get my title back.
I knew deep down inside that fighting Cain as soon as I did after the Carwin fight could have been a huge benefit to my career. But, with every benefit, there is a consequence. My consequence was a loss.
I’m human.
Yeah, I know. I’m not supposed to be, but I am.
I had been through a lot, some would even say “enough” in the year before the Cain fight. I got sick. Then worse. Then ended up in the hospital for eleven days with no food or water, being fed intravenously. Lost forty-two pounds. Had my whole life “on hold.” Found out my wife was pregnant with another baby boy on the way. Got cleared. Did a minicamp. Tried to be there for my wife and Mya and Turk, but was all wrapped up in getting back into shape and getting ready for the Carwin fight. Did a full-fledged training camp, then fought Carwin.
After that, some downtime was overdue.
But I kept going.
Our son Duke is born. I have to tend to our farm, but something had to give. I am not a very good multitasker. I am a driven, focused individual. I had too much going on, and had been through too much for the entire year.
Why did I lose that night? Plain and simple. On that night, in that arena, Cain Velasquez was a better fighter than I was.
There’s an old expression about falling off a horse. You get back on, and you ride that bad boy into town. I’m not saying I’m happy about losing the UFC Title, but I am saying it helped me focus again on how much I want to be champion.
In beating me for the title, Cain Velasquez tore his rotator cuff so badly he needed surgery and a year off to heal. Cain was scheduled to fight the number one contender, Junior Dos Santos, but that fight had to be postponed.
UFC knew both Dos Santos and I felt like the “Interim Title” was a fake championship, a placeholder until the real champ comes back. I made my feelings about that known when Shane Carwin was being called “The Interim Champion.”
Dana and Lorenzo came up with a great idea, and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. If I agreed to coach on the Ultimate Fighter reality show, I would be set to fight the other coach in the end. I accepted, because the other coach was Dos Santos, and the winner of our fight gets Velasquez.
So I did what I had to do. I moved to Las Vegas for six weeks, brought my family with me, and coached a team of hungry young fighters. That put me on the fast track to get my title back.
I want to be the UFC Heavyweight Champion of the World again. There are also a few other things I’d like to take care of before I disappear and become Farmer Brock, but I like taking things one step at a time. The UFC title is in my sights. I need to pull that trigger first.
As for those other goals?
Well, we’ll have to discuss those another time.
Maybe in DeathClutch 2!
Acknowledgments
My thanks to everyone who made this book worth reading, and my life what it is. My wife, Rena, and children, Mya, Turk and Duke; my mom and dad, for always being there; my brothers and sister; John, Jeff, Dick, and Alberta Schiley, for making me a part of their family; Bismarck State College and my coaches, Robert Finneseth and Ed Kringstad, my teacher Mary Ann Durrick, and my BSC teammates; Jesse Sabot, Mike Eckert, and their families; J. Robinson and Marty Morgan, for believing in me and pushing me to be my best; all of my UofM teammates, for going through it all with me; Brad Rheingans, my “brother”; Vince McMahon, for giving me my shot; Danny Davis, Gerry Brisco, Jack Lanza, and Jim “J.R.” Ross; all of the boys I stiffed on the way in and out of WWE—keep your receipts and get in line; John Laurinaitis, for getting me the hell out of Louisville; Dana White and Lorenzo Fertitta, for believing in me as an athlete; all of those who helped me along the way in my MMA career, Marty, Greg Nelson, Eric Paulson, Rodrigo “Comprido” Medieros, Luke Richesson, and all of the training partners who have pushed me and sacrificed for me; and my sponsors who have supported me.
I would also like to thank David Olsen, my longtime lawyer and manager, his colleague, Brian Stegeman, and their firm, Henson & Efron, P.A., for sticking with me in good times and in bad; Paul Heyman, for living some of the stories and writing this book with me; Scott Waxman, my literary agent; and Matt Harper, my editor, and the team at HarperCollins.
Special thanks to Medcenter One Hospital in Bismarck, North Dakota, the Mayo Clinic, and all of the extraordinary doctors and nurses who put up with me and made sure that I was alive to tell my story.
Thanks to you all, and to Webster, South Dakota, and all of the others who have played important parts in my life not mentioned here.
Photos
Even as a toddler, I was always ready to grapple.
This could have been a different career path . . .
I was always into athletic endeavors.
I was a happy kid!
Even as a kid, I always felt at home being a wrestler.
I owe everything to my mom and dad.
Junior College Champion at Bismarck State in 1998.
Winning for Bismarck State.
Winning the NCAA Division I Heavyweight Championship.
(Courtesy of the University of Minnesota)
With Paul in WWE . . . Here Comes The Pain!
(Courtesy of Baseball Magazine-Sha, Weekly ProWrestling/Fumi Saito
I respected Ric Flair’s contributions to the business, but I didn’t want to grow up to be like him.
(Courtesy of Baseball Magazine-Sha, Weekly ProWrestling/Fumi Saito)
I liked working with RVD. He never complained. Neither did I.
(Courtesy of Baseball Magazine-Sha, Weekly ProWrestling/Fumi Saito)
I have to say, Hulk put me over in a very big way.
(Courtesy of Baseball Magazine-Sha, Weekly ProWrestling/Fumi Saito)
Moments after beating The Rock for the WWE Undisputed Title. I’m a much richer man in this picture than I was two minutes before it was taken!
(Courtesy of Baseball Magazine-Sha, Weekly ProWrestling/Fumi Saito)
Vince wanted me to be “King Kong on top of the cage” after defeating the Undertaker in the Hell in a Cell Match.
(Courtesy of Baseball Magazine-Sha, Weekly ProWrestling/Fumi Saito)
Me as a babyface hitting the F-5 on Paul.
(Courtesy of Baseball Magazine-Sha, Weekly ProWrestling/Fumi Saito)
My WrestleMania Moment. This is not going to end well!
(Courtesy of Gregory Davis)
Concussed, but WWE Champion once again!
(Courtesy of Baseball Magazine-Sha, Weekly ProWrestling/Fumi Saito)
This is the moment Steve Mazzagatti called a foul in my first fight with Frankie.
(Scott Peterson/ MMAWeekly.com)
The punch that ended Heath Herring’s fighting career.
(Photograph by Josh Hedges/Zuffa LLC via Getty Images)
The Octagon is the Ultimate proving ground!
(Photograph by Jon Kopaloff/FilmMagic)
Ground and pound on Randy Couture en route to winning the UFC Title.
(Photograph by Josh Hedges/Zuffa LLC via Getty Images)
With my wife, Rena, after beating Coutur
e for the UFC Title. I owe that woman so much!
(Photograph by Jon Kopaloff/Getty Images)
There’s just something so relaxing about punching Frankie in the face.
(Scott Peterson/MMAWeekly.com)
After winning at UFC 100. Here comes the controversy!
(Photograph by Jon Kopaloff/Getty Images)
Getting up in Frankie’s face after UFC 100.
(Scott Peterson/MMAWeekly.com)
Celebrating with Marty after overcoming Shane Carwin’s onslaught at UFC 116.
(Photograph by Josh Hedges/Zuffa LLC/Zuffa LLC via Getty Images)
About the Authors
BROCK LESNAR is the only athlete in history to win the NCAA Division I Heavyweight Wrestling Championship, and the WWE and UFC World Heavyweight Championship Titles. He lives in Minnesota with his wife, Rena, his daughter, Mya, and his sons, Turk and Duke.
PAUL HEYMAN is Brock Lesnar’s longtime confidant, having worked with him both on-camera and behind the scenes in WWE. He lives in New York with his wife, Marla, daughter, Azalea, and son, Jacob.
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Credits
Cover design by Richard L. Aquan
Cover photograph by Marco Grob
Copyright
