The Road Warriors: Danger, Death, and the Rush of Wrestling

by Joe Laurinaitis

  I knew he’d been running around the world doing indie shots for various promotions, but I guess he’d also promised Masa Saito and Brad Reinghans at NJPW that both he and I were coming over as a package deal. When Hawk explained he was coming without me, they decided to pair him with an up-and-coming rookie named Kensuke Sasaki (Kenskee for short) and form a new version of the Road Warriors. Thus, the Hell Raisers were born. They took Kenskee, painted his face, named him Power Warrior, and gave him a set of gear and shoulder pads identical to ours, except in green.

  Hawk, or Hawk Warrior as he was called, kept the red and black theme from the WWF. They even went so far as to use another Ozzy Osbourne song, “Hellraiser,” as their entrance music. I was even told that the Hell Raisers had won the IWGP Tag Team titles from Tony Halme and our old friend Scott Norton.

  The news made me sick. I told the reporter to get his pen ready. “You can tell the people that even if Hawk has Power Warrior as his new partner, he’ll never replace Road Warrior Animal and my rightful place as one-half of the Road Warriors. It’s disrespectful to put someone else into a spot I worked my ass off to establish.”

  I think my point was made. A couple months later, I got a call that confirmed it.

  “Hey, Joe.” It was Hawk. “I heard what you said about Kenski, and the office at New Japan ain’t happy. They think you’re burying him.”

  Like so many times in the recent past, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, and I responded accordingly. “How is this my fault, Mike? You’re the one who abandoned me and decided to disrespect everything about our gimmick. You didn’t even discuss it with me first.”

  Hawk went on to explain that with me out of the picture, Inoki suggested he team up with Kenski to establish instant credibility with the Japanese fans. He also said the Hell Raisers were temporary until I healed up enough to make my official comeback and reunite the Road Warriors.

  Honestly, maybe it’s me, but I felt Hawk had a lot of nerve to call and complain about my totally justified thoughts. He was the one I felt put me in the whole situation to begin with. It had nothing to do with me trying to throw Kenski under the bus. Personally, I liked him just fine. The heat I vented to the reporter was strictly between Hawk and Animal or, more to the point, Mike and Joe.

  Well, needless to say, the call didn’t end on a high note. Hawk dial-toned me at the last second.

  It would be the better part of a year before we’d talk again.

  Embittered by Hawk and the whole Hell Raisers situation, I completely withdrew from the pulse of professional wrestling altogether. I tossed my gear bag into the closet to collect some dust and turned all of my attention to my family and to coming back bigger, stronger, and better than ever before.

  During my long sabbatical, I was able to reflect on where I was in life and what made me tick. It was my family. There was nothing better than coming home in those days. I would be so beat and in need of serious decompression, and the minute I’d come in the door, Joey, James, and Jessica would be all over me. Right then and there, the fatigue and pain would wash away. There wasn’t any therapy in the world a doctor could prescribe that matched the healing powers of being with my babies.

  I remember coming home from Japan and being so jet-lagged that it would take days to recover from it all. My mind would be in another world while I’d be lying on the floor in the family room watching TV. I’d be propped up with a pillow against the family room steps, almost falling asleep, when all of a sudden I’d hear the sound of running feet coming down the hall behind me. Bam. Bam! BAM! Then it would get quiet. Too quiet.

  BOOM! All of a sudden, James would land on my chest laughing and tickling me while Joey would be attacking my legs. I was being double-teamed by my own sons, the Legion of Laurinaitis. Little Jessica, never one to be outdone by the boys, would join in and try to hang with her big brothers.

  Joey, James, and Jessica got along great while growing up. They all really hit it off with one another. Before Jessica was old enough to really get involved in the scheme of things, my boys had been quite the duo. Even though Joey was five years older, James was the same size by around age six, so there was a lot of wrestling going on in the house.

  Also, there was a lot of “monkey see, monkey do” with the moves the kids saw me performing on TV. Before I knew it, Joey and James were as good as their old man at delivering clotheslines and powerslams into the couch or swimming pool. They’d even put Jessica up on James’ shoulders so Joey could dive off the springboard and Doomsday Device her right into the water. They had such great chemistry together, a parent’s greatest blessing, and boy did they have a ton of fun.

  One time when James was three, he was chasing Joey and fell chin-first into our sliding glass door. That wasn’t fun. But even less fun was the wet bar incident. We had a sunken living room area with a nice wet bar, the kind with the overhead wineglass racks where we’d hang each glass upside down by the base.

  I remember laying down the law. “Guys, no hard hockey balls in the house.” Famous last words. Thirty seconds later, I heard breaking glass. Crash, crash, crash! There went three glasses. Smash, smash, smash! There went another two. By the end of the week, only two of the original set remained. We threw them out and forgot about having wine altogether. (It made my stomach hurt anyway.)

  Something most families don’t have to worry about with their children is “the talk.” Of course, I’m not referring to the old birds-and-bees routine but something much more complicated: professional wrestling. For Julie and me, it was important to explain to our kids the true nature of the business and that what they saw happen to me in the ring wasn’t exactly what it seemed. The concept wasn’t easy for them because I would sustain legit injuries once in a while and come home all banged and stitched up.

  Take it from me, it’s nearly impossible to convince little children that wrestling’s a work, but they eventually got the idea that I was an entertainer. Joey and James in particular loved pro wrestling and would have sleepover parties for every WWF PPV. With Road Warrior Animal as their daddy, they had a pretty popular household in the neighborhood.

  Parenting Jessica was obviously a little different than parenting the boys. Of course there was more huggy and kissy time with Jessica, but come on, that’s a given. In general, though, I treated her the same way I treated my boys. Even Joey and James would kid with her to toughen her up. They’d walk by her in the hall and shoulder block her against the wall or take her down and tickle torture her. It was all in fun, and Jessica loved it. She’d go right after them and show everyone she wasn’t scared of messing with the boys. Even more priceless than Jessica’s bravery was her in-your-face attitude.

  Once, when she was about three years old, I was on the phone taking care of a Japanese booking or something. Well, Jessica wanted Daddy’s attention, and I guess I wasn’t giving it to her, so she took matters into her own hands. Literally.

  Before I knew it, a little hand was pushing my right cheek and another little hand was pushing my left cheek until I was being stared at straight in the eyes. Then I heard, “Daddy? Do you hear me, Daddy? Do you hear me?” I lost it and started laughing. It was hysterical. To this day, Jessica and I still joke about it. If she’s trying to talk to me and I’m distracted, I’ll hear, “Daddy, do you hear me?”

  When I was wrestling, I wanted to create a home life with as much normalcy as possible. Whether it was Julie reading bedtime stories and tucking in the kids every night, or everyone sitting together for dinner when I was in town, the little things made the most difference.

  The pride I have in my family knows no boundaries. Like anything that’s important, you have to work at family all the time. We always kept open and clear lines of communication and worked out any and all problems right on the spot. Now that I think about it, the work’s never done, and maybe that’s what makes it so rewarding.

  But while my family bloomed all around me in so many fantastic ways, far in the back of my mind, there was a rumblin
g in the cage. Animal wanted back out.

  HAWK LOVED BEATING PEOPLE UP IN JAPAN AND EVERYWHERE ELSE FOR THAT MATTER. 1985.

  17

  THE RESURRECTION OF THE ROAD WARRIORS

  It had been about two years since Hawk had taken off for Japan and formed the Hell Raisers with Kenski in New Japan. Meanwhile, my spinal fusion surgery had been so successful that I was back in the gym sooner than expected. I started off lightly with cardio and machines, but after getting my hands on the weights, the pounds packed right back on. I was 300 pounds before I knew it. And I didn’t just rehab my back; I supercharged it. Man, my hands were getting itchy for press slams and Doomsday Devices like you just don’t know.

  I was also finally able to reconnect with Mike from 1993 through 1995 with a series of phone calls he made to check in on me and let me know what was going on. It was a big step in the right direction for both of us. Letting go of all the unresolved bitterness I personally harbored was as important to my healing process as the fusion surgery had been.

  It was during one of those calls that Mike revealed he’d recently contracted hepatitis C from using dirty needles for various reasons. For those of you not familiar with it, hep C is a serious viral disease that will destroy your liver and lead to a whole world of problems no one wants. Mike went on to tell me about these nasty interferon shots he’d had to take during the last year.

  “They wiped me out, Joe,” he said. “I’ve never experienced anything like it in my life. You feel like you have the flu for weeks. I haven’t felt like training or doing anything but resting. It’s been totally fucking brutal.”

  But then he told me he’d recently met someone. While hanging out with Hulk and Linda one night down in Tampa where Mike and many of the other guys lived, too, he was introduced to a girl named Dale. The two of them really hit it off and quickly became a serious item. He told me they were engaged.

  “Holy shit, bro,” I said. “That’s great news. Anything else you want to tell me while you’re at it? You’re on a hell of a roll as it is.”

  In fact, there was something else on his mind. “I can’t wait for you to come back, Animal. There’s a lot of unfinished business in the world for the Road Warriors.”

  After that phone call, I had quite a lot to think about. My head was spinning. Hawk had hepatitis, was engaged, and couldn’t wait for me to come back. My mind kept drifting to the part about returning. Mike was right, of course. We did have unfinished business. But I still needed to be cleared by my doctors and Lloyd’s of London, so for the time being, Hawk would have to go back to work without me.

  During my little hiatus on the wrestling sidelines, Hawk and Kenski actually did great things together, even holding the IWGP Tag Team Championships on two separate occasions. By January of ’95, however, the Hell Raisers started winding down as a team. As planned, Kenski was starting to branch off into a singles career.

  I think everybody, from the fans to the office, was curious where Road Warrior Animal was and how he was doing. So I figured I’d show them. On January 4, 1995, during a singles match between Hawk and big Scotty Norton in Tokyo, I nervously made my way to the ring in my paint and street clothes. I was thinking crazy shit, like, Maybe they won’t remember me, and Maybe they didn’t even notice I was gone. But that train of thought ended the second I came stomping down to the NJPW ramp in my cowboy boots and jeans and everyone saw who it was.

  Blasting me with the first Road Warrior pop I’d heard in two and a half years, the fans erupted and gave me the confidence booster of my life. They made me feel as if not a second had passed since the last time I’d stood in front of a crowd, and with my 22-inch arms bursting from the seams, it sure didn’t look like it either. The message was perfectly delivered: Animal was on his way back and badder than ever.

  After my little hello to the wrestling world in Japan, I went back home to finish all the therapy necessary for Lloyd’s of London to clear me. Although it would be nearly a year before I was ready, it didn’t stop us from making plans with WCW to bring the Road Warriors back to the company for the first time in almost six years.

  Boy, I’ll tell you, quite a lot happened to the world of professional wrestling in the few short years I was off. Around the time Hawk and I had split back in September of ’92, I heard that the pizza man Jim Herd had been fired from WCW. It was during Herd’s brief tenure that one of the top wrestling companies in the world was run straight into the ground. Jim Crockett Sr. was probably spinning in his grave down in Charlotte. It was also during his tenure that there was an exodus of top guys like Flair (who went right back to WCW after Herd’s firing), Sid Vicious, and us, but also of up-and-coming guys like Mark Calaway (Undertaker), Steve Austin, Mick Foley (Cactus Jack), and even Scott Hall and Kevin Nash. Hell, even commentators Tony Schiavone and Jim Ross left.

  WCW’s product was completely in the toilet with the worst TV ratings in WTBS history, and Ted Turner wasn’t happy about it. After making several more unsuccessful personnel shifts to try to turn things around, Turner finally landed on a young guy named Eric Bischoff.

  Bischoff had been hired for light duties, including conducting backstage interviews, when we were still there. I guess Eric was able to put himself in the right places at the right times and say all the right things, because he curried enough favor with the upper management of TBS to land himself the role of executive vice president. Once that happened, Bischoff was able to open up Turner’s deep pockets and completely rebuild and rebrand WCW.

  During all of the WCW’s disastrous follies, the WWF hadn’t been faring too well either. Vince wound up taking huge financial hits on all sides not only because of failed business ventures like the WBF and subsequent ICOPRO vitamin supplement line but also due to his own federal steroid trial. McMahon, like Dr. Zahorian before him, was in the fight of his life to avoid conviction for anabolic steroid distribution to some of the boys.

  It was a nasty period not only for Vince but also for Hulk Hogan, who took the stand to testify and admitted to his own steroid use. Talk about a black eye for the business. Hogan’s wholesome image of “Say your prayers and take your vitamins” was dead in the water, and the WWF along with it. As with WCW, WWF TV ratings and live event attendance virtually disappeared.

  Vince even decided to take a leave of absence from the WWF and put his wife, Linda, in charge until the legal drama blew over. I remember receiving a subpoena of my own to come and testify, but I had nothing to say of any value. I never saw anything, never knew Dr. Zahorian. When I conveyed as much to the prosecutor, they excused me from the whole proceeding.

  In 1994, Vince was finally acquitted of all charges, but the damage had been done. The once unstoppable WWF/Hulkamania machine of the ’80s was broken down on the side of the pop culture road and needed a major overhaul. And this is where things got really interesting. Sensing a huge opportunity to take advantage of Vince’s less-than-favorable situation, Eric Bischoff made a huge power play that changed everything.

  Much as Vince had done in the ’80s, Bischoff started offering big money deals and a fresh start for almost everyone still working in the WWF. Ted Turner’s financial backing and WCW’s restructuring all of a sudden gave a new lease on life to guys like Randy Savage, Roddy Piper, Bobby Heenan, “Mean Gene” Okerlund, and, of course, Hulk Hogan. Bischoff was so convinced that Hulk was going to be the savior of the company that he gave him open access to creative decisions and talent acquisitions.

  The Nasty Boys, Jimmy Hart, Brutus Beefcake, Honky Tonk Man, and even John Tenta (Earthquake) and Fred Ottman (Typhoon) were all guys from the WWF glory days who were given deals and put on the WCW roster.

  Back in Stamford in his office, Vince was reeling from the diminishing talent ranks of his company, but instead of rolling over and dying, Vince decided to get to work. If Bischoff was going to decimate his pool of main eventers, he would establish new ones. Instead of spending money he didn’t have on recruiting too many new faces, he focused on who he already had
. Within a year or two, midcard-level guys like Shawn Michaels, Yokozuna (a six feet four, 550-pound Samoan under a Japanese sumo gimmick), Scott Hall (as Razor Ramon), and Kevin Nash (as Diesel) took center stage in the WWF Championship scene along with the likes of Bret Hart and ’Taker.

  As if the brand rivalry between the WWF and WCW wasn’t heated enough already, Vince and Bischoff unwittingly put themselves into a new pressure cooker that would ultimately destroy one of them in the end: the Monday Night Wars.

  Looking for a way to give the people a side-by-side comparison of WCW and the WWF, Bischoff convinced Turner to give him a cable slot on TNT (Turner Network Television) against Vince’s Monday Night Raw on the USA Network. Raw, which debuted in ’93, had been established as a very successful and innovative approach to wrestling on TV every Monday night. On September 4, 1995, however, WCW Monday Nitro premiered on TNT opposite Raw and ignited a frenzy between McMahon and Bischoff to outshock and outscore each other every Monday night in front of the world for the next 284 weeks.

  This was when we happened to come into the picture. Hawk was really good friends with Eric Bischoff’s right-hand man Sonny Onoo, who had earlier worked in NJPW as WCW’s liaison, and got us in for a good “pay-per-shot” money deal until we could work out a long-term contract. In preparation for our WCW debut, I had blue shoulder pads and gear made up for our first match. I imagined the whole new approach as the Road Warriors’ Black ‘n’ Blue era (as in, the way all of our opponents were going to end up). I had such high hopes then.

  On January 29, 1996, Hawk and I made our WCW Monday Nitro debut with a victory over the Faces of Fear, which was the team of our old bud the Barbarian and his new partner Haku, or Meng, as he was now known. When we came walking down the ramp to the ring, it was the first time we’d been in front of a WCW audience in five and a half years, and the people made us feel as if it were 1986 again.