The brute’s name was Warpig. He donned a boar mask, a blood-stained apron, and he wanted a piece of Pat McAfee.
“I was lucky to escape with my life,” McAfee said — still in character — after his first professional wrestling match. “If I didn’t get lucky a few times, he could have killed me.”
That was way back in March 2009, during that perfect time in McAfee’s football career where no one could tell him what do. He could pursue, without fear, his lifelong dream of becoming a professional wrestler.
The young thrill-seeker had just finished up at West Virginia, so his college football coaches had no control over him, and he had not yet been drafted, so the NFL was no concern.