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possible. I called J.R. and told him that I had some amateur wrestling community commitments in Minnesota, and it would be few weeks before I could make it to Louisville. I got lucky on that one, because WWE was working hard to develop a recruitment “understanding” with the amateur wrestling community, and I was given the extra time.
    For the first time in my life, I had money in my pocket. I used my signing bonus to pay off my student loans, and I bought a motorcycle. I hadn’t even stepped foot into a wrestling ring yet, and I was debt-free. Those WWE paychecks were coming in every week, and I thought I had it made.
    I’ve heard people say I got a handout from WWE because I got a big contract without coming up through the ranks like everyone else. That just pisses me off. I’ve never asked for a handout in my life, and I’d never take one if offered. Vince McMahon didn’t become a billionaire by giving money away. People who think I got a handout from the WWE, or from anyone else for that matter, have no idea what they’re talking about.
    Truth is, I worked my ass off to become an NCAA Division I Heavyweight Champion. Nobody handed me that honor. I worked for it. After I accomplished that goal, I looked at myself as a commodity, for sale to the highest bidder—similar to the dairy products we produced on the farm back in Webster. I knew I had a high value in the market because, after years of hard work, I was a rare commodity. I was a six-foot three-inch, 285-pound athletic freak of nature. I was built like a big man, but could move like a small man. On top of all that, I wasn’t just some local college wrestling champion from half a decade earlier. The NCAA Heavyweight Champion is wrestling’s equivalent of a Heisman Trophy winner, and I had just won the title.
    During my college days, I proved that I had that certain something. Love me or hate me, people paid to watch me compete. Vince McMahon knew I could put asses in the seats. That is a rare talent, I took it to the market, and the market rewarded me.
    Even though I was going to remain in Minnesota for a while, I still wanted to get a jump on my pro wrestling training. I never do anything half-ass. I wanted to learn from the best and it didn’t take me long to learn that meant a call to Brad Rheingans.
    Brad was a decorated amateur wrestler. He was an NCAA champion in 1975 for North Dakota State University, and placed fourth in the 1976 Olympics. He qualified for the Olympic team in 1980, but didn’t compete due to the United States boycott. All that hard work, and he didn’t get a chance to pursue the dream.
    Brad had also been an active professional wrestler for over a decade. In the United States, he was best known for his work with Verne Gagne’s American Wrestling Association (AWA). He also worked overseas for New Japan Pro Wrestling, first as a wrestler and later as an agent for the office.
    Lots of the wrestlers who headlined big shows for many years have nothing to show for it, but Brad was smart and saved his money. All of it. I bet that cheap-ass has the first dollar he ever made. And now, because he worked so hard to save, he has a great life. Brad has a beautiful home, and can go hunting and fishing whenever he feels like it. He enjoys his time, and he should. He earned everything he has, and his body bears the scars of years on the mat and in the ring.
    Soon after I started with Brad, I realized he was doing me a special favor. First, I found out that Brad had had stopped running camps for aspiring pro wrestlers over a year before he agreed to bring me in. Then, about two or three weeks into my training camp, I went out to lunch with Dan Jesser. Dan was a local wrestler that wanted to make it big-time, and at the time, he was one of the top guys on the independent circuit in Minnesota.
    We were just shooting the shit, and I mentioned that I had talked to Brad about something at Brad’s house.