I was going to die, you know what I mean? Because in my head I'm like ‘What would Harley Race do? He would keep going.’ There’s only so many times you can get hurt and keep going. I was never given time off after an elbow surgery, a knee surgery, narrowly avoided a hip surgery. It was always ‘no we need you.’ And it’s nice to be needed, but they will run you dry, you know? And I was on that path. And I watched too many friends get swallowed up by this business, and by drugs, and everything else they thought they had to do to keep going. And I was a cycle breaker, I took myself out of it. I’ve never really been proud of myself about a lot of things, but, you know, that’s just a real life thing that I was proud of myself because I took a step back and I was like ‘they’re not listening to me. I’m sick, I’m hurt. They’re not going to take care of me.’ I had to take care of myself. . .It caused a lot of drama, lots of silly baggage, but I’m alive. I woke up this morning. It sounds dramatic but it’s not bullshit. I would’ve kept going until I literally could not go anymore. And then what? Then I get posthumously inducted into a fugazi hall of fame? I don’t want that, I want to kiss my wife and walk my dog and enjoy things.
