The first time I heard 'Crazy Train,' I was crashed out in bed, definitely not wanting to get up and go to school, when my brother Vinnie came in and cranked it up.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
There was a train that would come by our house every night, and I'd hear the whistle blow. That is the sweetest memory I have.
I was hit by a car when I was 13, and the rumour was immediately that I had been playing chicken with the car with my best friend Kenny in front of the Nutmeg Pantry, which was the only shop in Sharon. In fact, the guy who hit me was inebriated.
When I was at school I used to scream in trains, in those concertina things between the carriages. I used to try to be so good that sometimes I couldn't bear it any more.
It was like falling off a building and suddenly, bang, you hit the bottom. The first time it happened was on an ordinary day at home. I was taking down some curtains. I took one step, turned around, took another step and then I fell and hit my head hard on the rowing machine.
I was running to catch a train when one of my teachers saw me. He thought I was fast, time me, and later gave me my first instructions in sprinting. I happened to be at the right place at the right time.
A drunk truck driver ran over me. I was in a Volkswagen. It was horrible. It sounds like a cliche, but anything that doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I give a lot of credit to my dad, who was a very strong guy.
My dad dragged me to a Bruce Springsteen concert as a kid. It was my first concert, but I fell asleep in the middle. My second concert was Weezer on the 'Pinkerton' tour, and 'Pinkerton' is the reason why I'm doing this.
I was training in Gleason's Gym on 30th and 8th Avenue, where it was the Mecca of boxing, and a guy walked in who couldn't rub two quarters together and said, 'Did you ever think of being on TV?' And somehow I ended up in 'Taxi,' which is the craziest thing of all.
I remember my very first training session. It was raining hard. It was cold, and I went home. I couldn't train. I stayed for ten minutes then told my dad to take me home.
Ever since childhood, when I lived within earshot of the Boston and Maine, I have seldom heard a train go by and not wished I was on it.