Jim Ross - Under the Black Hat: My Life in the WWE and Beyond

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I dedicate Under the Black Hat to the memory of my late wife, Jan, who always believed in me and was my greatest partner in life and love. You made me a better man.

And to the many fans, who were always there for me when I needed you the most.

Our journey together continues!

Jim Ross

IN MY FORTY-SEVEN-YEAR CAREER, Ive had the privilege of working with all the great commentators and announcers. The list started in my hometown in Minnesota, with the American Wrestling Associations Marty ONeill, and expanded as I traveled to include legends like Bob Caudle, David Crockett, and Gordon Solie.

People might not realize that a good commentator can make a wrestler with his words and that a bad commentator can break even the strongest characters. The right voice coming through the TV is vital in making sure the audience responds to the wrestlers, the feud of the day, the dynamic on-screen. When it works, the talent thrives, and everyone makes money.

But of all the voices that have come and gone, only a very few belong in the great category. Whenever Im asked, Who was the best commentator of all time? I think: Who has used their abilities to anoint new stars? Who has narrated the most legendary moments? And who has most helped the people at home feel the same passion we feel in the ring? My answer is always: The incomparable Jim Ross! And lucky for us, hes still going strong today.

WOOOOO!!

Ric Flair

MY GOD, WHAT A NIGHT, I said to the people back home as Stone Cold Steve Austin chugged down a couple of cold beers for a packed and raucous crowd in First Union Center, in Philadelphia. I was ringside, on commentary, watching WrestleMania XV come to a close.

As I spoke, Steves mortal enemythe real-life owner, chairman, and CEO of World Wrestling Entertainment, Vince McMahonstaggered to his feet in front of me.

In most other sporting events, if you see the authority figure at the end, hes there to present a belt, medal, or trophy to the winner. But this was WWE. So naturally, the boss was there to take an ass-whooping.

Mark it down, I said. Mark down the 28th. The Rattlesnake is back on top of the mountain.

Austin rolled out of the ring, knowing the crowd didnt want him to leave. In our business thats called psychologywhen a wrestler uses their body at the right time in the right way to elicit the best response from the audience.

Steve threw his WWE title back in the ring and slid under the bottom rope for one more salute to the audience. The roar of the crowd was deafening. I wanted the people at home to feel what we were feeling.

Therere 20,276 fans here, and by God, they love him, I said.

Steve called for more beer as the chairman limped slowly around ringside.

I said, Mr. McMahon is barely able to stand, and The Rattlesnake is toasting the referee, hes toasting the fans. Hes toasting everybody who works for a living.

My longtime broadcast partner, the legendary Jerry The King Lawler, always a master of timing, chimed in: You cant drink on the job, you idiot.

The job is done, I replied, referring to Austin winning the title. Has Mr. McMahon ever had a sadder daya worse day, King?

No, he hasnt, my exasperated partner said. This is awful.

Long live The Rattlesnake! I shouted. Long live Stone Cold Steve Austin!

The production truck cut to Vince standing at the end of the ramp, looking both angry and heartbroken that a working-class redneck was his World Champion.

In reality, of course, the boss couldnt have been more elated. His pick to draw WWE forward on a global scale was absolutely on fire, with huge mainstream interest, PPV numbers, merchandise sales, and about any other metric that could be used to measure success in our business.

But back on TV, it was Lawlers job to cement Mr. McMahons pain and anguish, while it was my job to drive home to the viewing public that Austin was a blue-collar badass disrupting the corporate world.

Austin vs. McMahon had all the ingredients for a once-in-a-lifetime feud: worker against boss; redneck against blue blood.

And they werent done yet.

Steve rolled out of the ring, where Mr. McMahon was waiting to berate him. Boom! Austin shut him up with a stiff right hand. The crowd went crazy. Then Stone Cold threw his boss into the ring, where everyone could get a nice clear look at what was coming: a kick in the stomach. Vince doubled over, and The Rattlesnake ended it with his finishing move, the Stone Cold Stunner.

Stunner, I said with all the passion I could muster. Stone Cold just dropped the owner.

Steve looked down at ringside and called for another beer. Luckily, our timekeeper had perfected throwing long passes of Steveweisers from almost any angle.

The Rattlesnake caught the incoming refreshment, cracked it open, and poured it all over the unconscious chairman.

Aw, God, ladies and gentlemen, I wish you could all be here, I said. What emotion, what electricity.

And it was amazing.

And just like that, it was done.

Then came the adrenaline dump.

The noise was gone, the arena had mostly emptied, and the electricity coursing through my veins had dissipated. Id stayed behind a little longer than everyone else. The crew was stripping down the set and ring like hungry ants on a prone body.

I looked up the ramp toward the curtain.

Any curtain in the entertainment business is, by definition, a portal between two worlds. When youre on the public side of it, nothing exists except the story youre telling your audience. On the other side is real life.

In my business, that other side is where larger-than-life WWE Superstars become everyday people with everyday problems. They hobble in pain, dance with joy, break down in tears, or celebratedepending on how their night went.

As I walked from the commentary table back toward the curtain in Philadelphias First Union Center, I had no idea if joy or pain was waiting for me back there either.

I didnt even know if I still had a job.

I had returned to commentate on just one match, after several months away recovering from a second bout of Bells palsy. Before Bells, I was the voice people heard when they tuned in to the wrestling juggernaut known as WWE. After Bells, I was confined to a dark room, in pain, while one side of my face hung paralyzed.

In truth, I wasnt yet healed properly, but the honor of being asked to commentate on the biggest match in WWE history was too great to ignore.

Even though I was wracked with nerves, I didnt want to let Vince McMahon, the CEO, chairman, and owner of WWE, down. Nor did I want to disappoint Stone Cold Steve Austin and Dwayne The Rock Johnson, as they were the ones who specifically requested that I be there to call their match. I had signed both men to WWE, and narrated the stories of both their rises to the top of the company each week for the viewers at home, so I wanted more than anything to be there calling the action on the biggest night of their careers.