"I worked too hard and I suffered too long to have my reputation torn up by you"

Mick Foley: "Thank you… it's very nice. But I think that following the events of December 15, 2003, maybe a little explanation is in order; every day since that day, I've heard one comment over and over: 'Why, Mick, why?' I think I have finally come to a place where I can answer that question as best as I can, but I think to understand 'why' you need to understand where I've been, or maybe, more accurately, what it is that got me there.

When I think about my career – when fans refer to my career – they come up with a lot of really nice accolades. They talk about my heart, my guts, my courage, my love for the business. The truth is, yes, some of that came into play, but the main benefit I had was hatred – the ability to take something in my life, to hate it very much, and then channel it in a very useful way.

To got into a deep part in my heart and produce things inside this ring that were thought to be humanly impossible. That's really good, as long as I was an active wrestler, but I thought of a guy like Pete Ross – the most competitive player of his era – who, when I was a kid, played the game as he was angry at the world. Too see Pete Ross dive into third base headfirst was pretty cool. To see Pete Ross knock over Ray Fosse at the '70 All Star game or take a swipe at Bud Harrelson in the '73 playoffs was really cool. But to see that same guy, ultracompetitive, still angry at the world at age sixty-one, lying about betting on baseball, is pretty sad.

I don't want to be the sad guy. I don't want to be the bitter guy. So when I retired from wrestling, although it was very difficult, I had to let go of all that anger. And I heard throughout my career, 'Mick Foley is a hall of a guy'. I was a hell of a guy as long as I had that avenue to channel all the hatred toward. When I retired, I needed to let go, and after a long time I did, and got to a place where I was truly for the first time happy with myself. So I'll admit to making a big, big mistake on December 15, 2003 in Tampa, Florida. The mistake was not walking out on the match to begin with, because as I walked dwon that ramp to face Randy Orton, who is the Intercontinental Champion and is a hell of a wrestler, I realized I wasn't willing and maybe not able to go inside that place in my heart to do what was necessary to get the job done. Now, Randy kind of seized that opportunity, and I think he took advantage of it a little bit, and he's chosen to make my life a bit difficult over the last seven weeks. So even though I know he is probably very angry at me for costing him his shot at the main event at WrestleMania, I still think Randy Orton, all things considered, owes me a little favor. So what I'd like to do is call Randy Orton down the ring without Evolution. One on one, right now. Randy, I will wait here all night if I have to."

[Randy Orton kommt zum Ring]

Randy Orton: "You want a favor from me, Mick? I dare ask, after blowing my chances at a main event at WrestleMania! I dare ask, what do you want from me?"

Mick Foley: "Wait, wait… Hold on! Don’t be so angry. This may seem out there. This may seem downright kooky, but what I would like to do is, I'd like you to spit in my face again."

Randy Orton: "You want me to do what?"

Mick Foley: "I told you it was kooky, and look, I know you can do it, because I felt the warmth of your spit that night in Tampa. I've seen the replays seventeen times, I've seen it in slow motion, hell, I've seen it in rewind. But I'm just wondering if maybe that was a fluke and if you have the guts to spit in my face again right here in Hershey, Pennsylvania."

Randy Orton: "Mick, listen, man listen." [Foley entreißt Orton das Mic und schmeißt es zu Boden]

Mick Foley: "Listen here, you little Bastard! I was spilling blood on six continents while you were latched onto your mother’s breast! I've been hearing you run your damn mouth for seven weeks! Now I've got the microphone and I'm talking, and you do as you're told! I am telling you, no, I am ordering you, to spit in my damn face! Do it! Do it! Do it!"

[Foley verpasst Orton ein paar Ohrfeigen. Schließlich folgt dieser der Aufforderung und spuckt Foley ins Gesicht]

Mick Foley: "What! What! Why, I ought to… why – I am not going to hit you, Randy. I am not going to hit you. I am going to take the advice of a very good book I read a little while ago that said 'Turn the other cheek' and I am going to turn that other cheek. What I’m going to do is ask you to spit on that one as well, but I couldn't help but notice that this was one lackluster loogie, Randy. My goodness, it's cold and flu season, the harshest winter in fifty years, and I'm willing to bet you can exhume something real green from the way down deep. Dig it up and plant me right here! But hold on, hold on. Maybe Randy needs a little inspiration, so if you join me, maybe we can get a chant going: 'Loogie, loogie, loogie.' Deeper, deeper… there you go!"

[Orton bespuckt Foley erneut]

Mick Foley: "Yeah! Woah! Take a good shot of that! Realize that you can look at it close, and it is still only spit. Still just spit, and Randy, you have to realize, I've got four childfren. During the course of twelve years of raising those kids I've been peed on, I've been pooped on, I've been thrown up on, IŽve been sneezed on and yeah, I've been spit on. So spit on by you one more time is not really a big deal.

When it came to you calling me names, I had it on good authority that sticks and stones my break my bones but names, that’s right, they’ll never hurt me. I am willing to bet that whoever you came up with that helpful adage was never referred to as Randy Orton's 'bitch' on national television. You see, Randy, it was about that point that something sank into my brain. Something that never occurred to me before – that is, people were starting to believe you.

Understanding the definition of the big lie, which says, 'If you tell a lie that’s big enough and you that lie long enough, the public will accept it as fact no matter how big a pile of crap what you're saying actually is.' Randy, the idea of you as a hardcore legend is one big pile of crap! Take a look, because this is not just spit anymore. Because I have come to realize that when you spit on my face, you spit on my name, you spit on the very business that I love and I cannot… [Foley schlägt sich selbst ins Gesicht] cannot accept that, you understand.

I worked too hard and I suffered too long to have my reputation torn up by you. You little bastard! I've seen my ear thrown away in Munich, Germany! I've seen my skin hanging off the barbed wires in japan! And I've been bludgeoned in Nigeria. [An Foleys Augenbraue beginnt Blut herunterzulaufen.] Now I no longer have to wonder whether I have a place in my heart where darkness dwells, because I'm already there! I am already there and I don’t have to deny the hatred anymore. And that’s why I accepted the hatred that exists in my heart. I will welcome it home as a long-lost friend, saying, 'Welcome home, where you been?'

Because there is a time and a place for hatred, Randy Orton. The place is Hershey, Pennsylvania… and the time is now!"