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Have A Nice Day!: A Tale Of Blood And Sweatsocks (2000)

Have a Nice Day!: A Tale of Blood and Sweatsocks (2000)

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4.28 of 5 Votes: 1
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ISBN
0061031011 (ISBN13: 9780061031014)
Language
English
Publisher
harperentertainment

About book Have A Nice Day!: A Tale Of Blood And Sweatsocks (2000)

Mick Foley is one of the best ring performers in the past thirty years. I say that because I've been watching wrestling for the past thirty years (admittedly, starting at the ripe old age of four). As Cactus Jack, Mankind, and Dude Love, he created three of the most memorable wrestling personas I can think of. When Mick first debuted in 1991 on World Championship Wrestling (WCW) as Cactus Jack, I was legitimately terrified of the man. His matches were full of brutality, acrobatics unexpected of a man his size, and enough overacting you believed the man had a screw loose. The actual Mick Foley is pretty much the opposite of eccentric characters. He's a dorky quirky guy who has a near-endless amount of funny stories to share about his fellow wrestlers. Have a Nice Day is the first of three autobiographies he's written and the largest at about seven hundred and fifty pages. It chronicles Mick's life from his Bloomington, Indiana childhood to his first retirement in 2000. Due to the fact said retirement didn't "stick" and he was wrestling with World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE) as late as 2014, this autobiography is by no means complete but that doesn't mean it's not entertaining as hell. It is a crime Have a Nice Day isn't available in Kindle format and I encourage my readers go to Amazon.com and say they want to see it released as such. The heart of the book is Mick's easy-going narrative, which is seemingly one amusing anecdote after another. The book opens up with a horrific story about how Mick lost his ear in a match with fellow wrestler Big Van Vader, only to make the story darkly hilarious as he ended up having to explain to a German nurse how he got injured doing a "fake sport." The book is littered with stories both funny as well as moving as we watch Mick Foley move from obscurity to becoming the sort of man who might win the World Championship Belt. Wrestling is scripted but it is a massive competition both behind the scenes and on the mat to distinguish yourself enough to win a push to the spotlight. Listening to the stories Mick has to share about both the WCW, ECW, and WWE's backstage politics will give you a new respect for anyone who manages to make it big. Wrestlers have to work their asses off in order to make any money in the business and frequently injure themselves in order to do the sort of crowd-pleasing moves necessary to make themselves famous. There's moments of tenderness, too, like Mick Foley's tribute to Owen Hart and talk about his relationship with Brian Pillman (both men dying tragically at a very young age). We also get a moving account of his romance as well as sustained relationship with Colette Foley, a woman who is, in Mick's own words, far too good for him. Mick isn't a professional writer but this doesn't hurt him in the slightest as it goes well with his informal conversational tone. At the end of the book, I feel like I'd come to know the oddball professional wrestler and would likely have called him friend if we'd ever shared a workspace. One of my favorite stories from the volume was Mick sharing how he first got inspired to enter professional wrestling by watching "Superfly" Jimmy Snuka climb to the top of a steel cage and jump down onto his opponent. It's a story with a funny twist at the end because he'd snuck away from college to go see the match against his parent's wishes, only for them to see him sitting in the third row on television (due to his very recognizable trademark flannel shirts). Another tale which I loved was Mick trying to deal with Vince McMahon's good-natured attempts to help his career by giving him truly horrendous gimmicks like "Mason the Mutilator" amongst other dumb stage names. The book also contrasted and compared the benefits of wrestling in the WWE, the WCW, Japan, ECW, and the independent circuit. Mick Foley has worked in all four promotions and gone back to them after serving in others so we get his initial perspective as well as some after the fact. Mick talks about the fans of each promotion too and what they reacted to. I especially loved how he decided his "gimmick" for the ECW would be to be a guy who loved the WCW and hated hardcore wrestling. That's adorable. Less adorable being the description of how many injuries Mick Foley has sustained in pursuit of his craft. Through Mick Foley, I got to know such individuals as Terry Funk, Diamond Dallas Page, Steve Austin, and Vince McMahon. We also get Mick Foley's opinion on some famous moments of wrestling history such as the folding of WCW and the infamous Montreal Screwjob. The truly impressive thing about this book is that I think non-wrestling fans would enjoy this book almost as much as wrestling ones. And that's amazing.10/10

Pro-Wrestling? PRO-WRESTLING??? But that's just FAKE!!! Only retards like pro-wrestling.Okay. Here goes. I am a fan of pro-wrestling and this is me coming out of the pro-wrestling closet.I wasn't a fan before I read this book though. It wasn't even on my radar as anything I would ever be remotely interested in. Not even as a youngster. Then, on a complete whim, I read this autobiography and it changed my brain. My eyes were opened to a world I had not even realised existed. And isn't that the point of reading, regardless of the subject matter?What you have to understand is that what you see in the ring when you watch a wrestling match is exactly what the nightwatch-man saw from his lookout post on the Titanic; just the tip of the iceberg. Wrestling goes all the way down into the dark places where light does not penetrate. Wrestling is in our bones. I guarantee you that prehistoric peoples, sitting round campfires after a hard days hunting and foraging, regularly pissed themselves laughing at two mates throwing each other about just for the hell of it. We are programmed to respond to wrestling.A big, fat, hairy, ugly guy walks up to the ring and the crowd boos because he is obviously evil. A muscular, square-jawed, handsome man wearing white enters the ring and we cheer because he is obviously the hero. It is the unwritten justice-system of the masses. If you are unattractive on the outside then the immediate concensus is that you will be ugly on the inside and vice versa. In wrestling the crowd decide everything. If you are booed you are a heel, cheered and you are a babyface.The two men lock-up. One tries to get the better of the other. The oldest story in existence commences - the struggle between good and evil - told by two virtually naked performers without words or scenery or stand-ins or special-effects. The only storytelling instruments at their disposal are their bodies and what they can do with them and in the ring only actions count. Action is character. If the hero is honourable then the crowd will love him, unless he becomes arrogant or a bully. Then they will boo the hero and cheer the villan or the underdog. In wrestling, as in real-life there are unspoken rules; what we aspire to in our heroes and despise in our villans; the best and worst aspects of ourselves.When done correctly wrestling can have thousands of people on the edge of their seats experiencing dire anticipation, yelling with excitement, laughing out loud, rendered speechless by an unexpected outcome or shouting in disgust at an unwanted result.Modern wrestling is a multi-million dollar business and as well as huge success big money can bring even greater depths and darkness. Bodies are battered and broken and yet scheduled stories must continue to be told or else executives in suits worry that fans will switch off their televisions. Families are essentially abandonned as fathers go on the road for weeks on end. Alcoholism, drug-abuse, steroids, early-deaths, suicides, concussions, big-paychecks and then no paychecks, groupies, the mania of the packed stadium followed by the come-down of a cheap motel room with nothing but the chronic pain of an old injury to keep you company. And all the while there is the all-pervading knowledge that no one respects what you are doing. There is no mainstream acceptance. You are not thought of as an athlete or a talented performer, you are nothing more than a dumb wrestler - a fake. The world of Pro-wrestling is the last remnant of the travelling circus and the carnival freakshow and for better or worse there is nothing else like it left on earth.All of it and more is to be found in this book. Mick Foley is one of the most interesting people ever to lace up a pair of spandex boots. And that is saying something in a world that attracts such extreme individuals. Also, it is nothing short of a miracle that considering the style of wrestling that he not only took part in, but essentially created - hardcore - that he has any functioning brain cells left to write with.I seriously doubt that anyone will ever read this book based on what I have written here but believe it or not, it is a very strange tale that Mamma Foley's little boy has to tell and he does it very well. Better than you or I would after taking all those chair-shots.PJD

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I thoroughly enjoyed this book. However, I can't strongly recommend it to anyone who isn't a wrestling fan. Foley has a great story to tell and has a wonderful sense of humor, but his stories of dealing with various wrestling personalities (Harley Race, the Dynamite Kid, Paul E. Dangerously, etc.) in every major promotion of the 90s will mean a lot more if the reader is familiar with these characters prior to picking up the book. In other words, it's extremely fascinating to read about the backstage behavior of the people you see on TV; reading about the backstage behavior of someone you've never heard of, less so.With that said, I am a wrestling fan. Because of this, I found these stories riveting. The tone of the book is very conversational... it's as if the reader is sitting with Mick, who says, "Let me tell you about the time I lost my ear in Germany," or, "Did I ever tell you how I met my wife? I saw her at..." or, "Owen and I played this great joke on Stone Cold one time. We had this match..." etc, etc.So, while a non wrestling fan may appreciate the honest tone, sense of humor, and compelling overall story, the more knowledge one has of the art form (as I see it), the more enjoyable this book will be.
—Andrew Webb

A wild read about a wild career, Mick Foley's first memoir (he's since written two others) is an entertaining, lucid look at the crazy world of professional wrestling.Starting with his college years as an aspiring wrestler and filmmaker, Foley takes readers through a long, strange career: he started by jumping off of roofs, driving for hours and sleeping in the back of his car and within a few years was working in the myriad web of independent wrestling promotions and leagues. Some of these formed connections that'd serve him well into his career, but others are long-forgotten shows in half-filled bingo halls. With a self-aware charm, Foley recounts this matches as his apprentice years, putting in his dues and slowly improving as a wrestler.And as he makes clear, it's hard work. Sure, wrestling is scripted. But it's not easy either; on the back of the book is a chart of some of his many injuries over the years: concussions, broken fingers, torn muscles and blown knees. Even with a career that - to when Foley wrote this book some 14 years ago - was relatively short, he paid a physical price. But it was working, too: soon Foley was working with the now-defunct WCW and ECW leagues, slowly building a reputation as someone willing to do anything in the ring if he thought it'd make for a good match. It's harrowing stuff: before long, Foley's writing about matches where he's slammed with a folding chair, pounded into a concrete floor or thrown into barbed wire like he's writing about the weather. His matches overseas up the ante: in Germany he loses an ear, in Japan suffers burns after standing too close to a C4 explosion. The pictures liberally scattered throughout the book often show a bloodied Foley, almost always with a grin on his face. His unique personality shines through the book: he loves getting battered almost as much as he loves listening to Tori Amos or going to theme parks.The book climaxes with his famed run in the now-WWE as the iconic wrestler Mankind, running through matches with people like The Rock or The Undertaker. His recaps of these matches are as crazy as anything: getting dropped off the top of a giant metal cage, getting slammed around until he blacks out. The way he writes it makes it come off as an unlikely rise to the title; reading between the lines, you can see it as him and the WWE planning a way for him to go out on top, with him retiring shortly thereafter. Indeed the scripting of matches is something he only gets into a bit, but they're some of the most interesting stuff in the book: why certain angles work, why some people catch on while others fade away, what goes into making an entertaining match. A weird note: Foley's out-of-the-ring side doesn't get addressed very often and his vast support for good causes (building schools overseas or his long hours volunteering for RAINN) aren't mentioned really at all. It's interesting how much he downplays this side of his life since most autobios are relatively self-serving. On the other hand, I found the recaps of wrestling a little much sometimes: I suspect someone who actually watched these when they happened will get more out of them. Finally, his fratboyish tone was occasionally annoying: there's a lot of dick jokes here.Still it's a fun read and a nice change from the usual.
—M. Milner

4/5I'm a big wrestling fan. I got out of it for a few years after The Attitude Era (wrasslin' fans will understand that), where Foley really made his name. Where, hell, a lot of the modern legends made their name (Austin, The Rock, etc). I'm back into wrestling now even if it's not what it once was. I'm a 26 year old male, and I've never -- nor will I ever -- view wrestling as just for kids. I think a childhood isn't a childhood without pro-wrestling, but I appreciate wrestling for what it is: performance art, live theatre, with athletic overtones. Pro-wrestling rant aside -- which I had to do because so many people just seem to misunderstand or hate it -- I read this many years ago, and what Mick Foley did was give an amazing glimpse into an amazing career. That he wrote it himself helps greatly.If you're interested in wrestling this is a must-read, because Foley is a hardcore legend and embraced the more dangerous side of pro-wrestling. That's not saying that someone like Hulk Hogan, who never got into the more hardcore side of things like Foley, wasn't putting himself in danger because pro-wrestling is very destructive. If you want to learn more about a family man who was crazy enough to put on a mask and pull his hair out, all while putting his body in danger night after night, this will keep you intrigued, because not only is Foley fascinating, but his writing is solid.When people say, "wrestling is fake," I only have to point them to the back of this novel, which listed all the injuries Foley had up until that point: and there are a lot.
—Tyler

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