I see it a hundred times a month on my message board and others, "...that's what's killing the business," a lament from some nameless self proclaimed "guardian of wrestling." It has become such a cliche' that I mostly don't pay any attention at all whenever someone slides this whine into a thread about this or that promotion.
The reason I refer to this ubiquitous phrase as a "whine" is because it is used as a trollish weapon against every wrestler in our area who does not fit precisely into the "old boys club" fraternity of wrestling. It is exclusionary, prejudicial, elitist and downright snotty coming from anonymous sources as it most often does.
"Wrestlers for hire to work for promoters who organize wrestling shows" are a hierarchical group; of that there can be no doubt. As it is with any group of boys or men, there is a pecking order, complete with bullies, snobs, and quiet competent journeymen who labor unsung in the trenches, improving their act as they gain experience.
At the top of the wrestling food chain are the glamor guys, the "on TV and Touring The Country Seven Days A Week, Genuine Article WWE Superstars." This is the Holy Grail to in ring talent" It is what amnd where they dream to be, entering a ring in Madison Square Gardens on TV to an accompanying voice over by Jerry Lawler, admiring some particular characteristic that fans should recognize as appealing. Oh, to be Triple H, or Randy Orton, or even Eugene or Hornswaggle. WWE is an indy wrestler's wet dream.
Next are those who "were there." Buff Bagwell comes to mind. He lives a wrestling life that is a spotlight of envy. In demand every weekend, Buff travels from Atlanta to a hundred places a year or more, he skims the cream from indy shows and basks in the more intimate glow of indy audience worship. Having "made it" to the bigs, no matter how long or short one's time there, he occupies this second rung from the top of the ladder by grace of word of mouth and a delicate balance between affordability to the promoter and a living wage for himself.
The Legends; those who made it, kept the bubble from bursting long enough to be universally known and loved (or hated), aged out or their injuries became too much for the rigorous schedule of top dogdum, or fell into the trap of addiction and got dismissed. They too labor in the Indies as guest stars, selling the magical elixir of "the draw," a medicine show dance that sometimes succeeds and sometimes fails.
These top three rungs of the ladder are the elite positions. They are statistically unattainable to the indy guy appearing at local shows. To be John Cena, one has to literally be John Cena. Nothing less will do. To go to the Billion Dollar Circus requires one to beat one in 1 million odds. Like any show business opportunity, one literally has to catch a break against enormous competition.
Now lets move to the other end of the ladder, the bottom. In our area, which stretches from Tallahassee to New Orleans there are dozens (probably more) of promotions operating at least one show a month that employs on average per show, 30 local area in-ring talent each. These "workers," a term that disturbs some nay-sayers enormously, earn anywhere from no money at all to as much as $150 for a well known name among fans. There are ring-crew, concession persons, ticket sellers, security guys and a gaggle of others involved in production, so quite literally, everybody is in for a piece of the action, who ever nurtured or professed a "love of wrestling."
The promoter at our local area level is an entrepreneur and a risk taker. His brass ring is a payday for himself after "his boys' have been white enveloped (paid) and sent along home. He often has a large investment in an individual show; it may consist of the cost of a ring, the rental of a building, the printing and distribution of advertising, and or the cost of other advertising. He not only has no guarantee of that elusive "profit" he seeks, but faces the very real possibility of negative numbers if he has a poor showing.
The promoter's brand of wrestling "rocket science" is to juggle "The Draw" in such a way as to encourage a boatload of fans to show up. It is a balancing act worthy of the Flying Walendas and has the potential to end up in a 'wallendic" disaster if he miscalculates.
The Alabama Wrestling Federation, Mobile, relies heavily on a pool of expensive Legends of Wrestling for "Shock Draw," as in "OMG The Honkey Tonk Man? I saw him on TV when I was a kid!" Shock draw will put butts in seats reliably. Promoter Henderson then builds a program of the locally know wrestlers that make up the AWF ensemble and delivers that production to a Theodore (AL) high school. It is an elegant formula that has stood the test of many, many false starts and bad crowd nights when Club Casino saw 20 paid admissions to AWF bar wrestling. Henderson paid dues. Unquestioningly.
Ultimate Wrestling in Pensacola does just the opposite. No shock draw for this team. Ultimate relies on continuity for its bread and butter. Its roster reads like a "who's who" of interesting personalities from our defined local area. Truthfully, in my opinion, they have never showcased an unappealing wrestler. For example: Joe Gibson, Carlos DeAngelo, Aeon Flexx, Death Row, Bobby Doll; standouts, one and all. Others, such as Marcus Gibbs, occupy an entertaining niche that strengthens the ensemble as a whole.
These two promotions do more than one show a month in different venues. Each is profitable to its owner. Each has seen its share of downputters and smashmouthers. Each have been accused of "killing the business." Each has made spectacular errors in the learning curve to steady profitability, and each has recovered its balance to arrive at that coveted platform whereupon reside that most sought after creature in the wrestling universe, the dedicated fan.
How about DSPW, ICON, and ALLPRO? These are the "other" wrestling promotions that often find themselves on the tip of the spear of anonymous negative verbiage suggesting that they are "killing the business." And how about those kids just getting started in wrestling, the ones wrestling in jeans and Nikes, the 4 move wonders everybody with a keyboard swears are "killing the business? How about me, and the message boards of Gulf Coast Wrestling.com and my gimmick table full of "flea market junk" as my detractors so vociferously denounce as "killing the business."
Are we killing the business? Can we or anyone "kill the business?" Is "the business" so delicate that it can be killed? Or are the harbingers of doom and gloom themselves "killing the business?
Heady questions.
From the most wealthy (WWE), to the least wealthy (ICON), and all in between, the wrestling "business" is actually a component of "show" business or the entertainment industry as it is universally known. Entertainment is the name of the game. A musical metaphor for wrestling might be, "not everybody can be Garth Brooks," even though that kid in that Pensacola tavern belts out a helluva tune that he wrote himself and had the entire bar rocking, he only picked up a hundred bucks in pay and tips for three hours work and the dues paying goes on.
Not everybody can be Ric Flair, even though DJ Durst picks up twenty dollars in gas money for a show in Castleberry during which his wrestling was extraordinary and he made his very green opponent look like a seasoned veteran. It's an apples and oranges comparison, I know, but no single individual or group of individuals or even a hoard of individuals can "kill the business. Michael Jackson's trial didn't kill the music biz and Tiny Tiswell's homage to Rikishi can't kill wrestling.
So what can kill wrestling? Is it possible?
Apathy is wrestling's biggest enemy. When Smarks like me, super fans like Gargoyle, promoters like Hurst, Godwin, Ted Turner and Vince McMahon and ordinary TV fans stop seeing wrestling as fun, the cross will be erected and the nailing will begin.
How is it that the WWE can't fill the Pensacola Civic Center; that Ultimate seldom sees more than 200 at the American Legion Hall and Tiny is only averaging 75 paid tickets a week? Apathy and competition from other interests is one possible answer.
Has the Internet changed Wrestling for the worse? Undoubtedly. Chris Tighe defeated in Florala is instant news in Pensacola via the net. A heel must consistently heel from one venue to the next, lest some Internet message board take him to task over being too bad or good on a particular night.
Is the training network breaking down around our area? Not as I see it. Ultimate offers a school, and soon so will All Pro aided by Wild Samoan connections. Bob Holley in Mobile? Well, doesn't it seem reasonable, if not inevitable?
So "the business" is alive and well to those who know how to work it. Maybe 80 fans is a bad number or maybe it's a good one. Maybe a visit to All Pro convinces a fan that Ultimate is a better fit for his taste. Maybe ICON will add a third venue to Pensacola and further dilute a fan base that is wafer thin.
Maybe. . .
Maybe Bobby Wilson will bring back WFW.
Maybe. . .
Maybe what's killing the business are people who proclaim that someone is killing the business.
Some prophecies are self fulfilling.
And some are just bluster and nonsense.
