Pro Wrestling Chronicle

Welcome to a retro-column. This is the original, first ever, Sunday Morning Musings by senior staff writer Paul Siegfried. You can expect to see more of his editorials and opinion pieces under the Musings banner in categories or at the top of the page. This column is weekly.

-Hey everyone. This column, and all subsequent columns, is my chance to air my opinions about this crazy business we all love. You’re reading this because you’re a wrestling fan. Well, so am I. Comments are criticisms are welcome. I hope you enjoy!

“ECW! ECW! EC…….my God this chant isn’t working anymore”

It has happened. It’s Bizarro World. Think Zack Morris and Lisa Turtle dating, add a car-wreck quality, and you’ll have a hint of what the resurgence of ECW is going to go like. WWE has shown us that they are not only full of hubris, but they’re very possibly slightly mentally handicapped as well. It has been announced that ECW (or, EC F’N W for all those who are hardcore) is being brought back in the WWE’s latest attempt to shout from the rooftops: “WE HAVE COMPETITION, I SWEAR!!!” Unfortunately for the state of the business (thanks for nothing TNA), no one can hear their screams. I must admit, when I originally read this little bit of news I thought to myself “this might be a fun ride if executed properly”. Then, visions of botched invasions, the nWo “poison”, and Goldberg wearing a wig danced through my head and I admitted the sad truth to myself: the WWE version of ECW will fail on a colossal level. In my opinion, ECW survived for as long as it did based on two things: 1. the inability of Paul Heyman to put reality ahead of his dream and call it a day, 2. a hardcore niche fan-base who refused to let the extreme dream die.
We all know the history of ECW. Todd Gordon, Eddie Gilbert, Eastern Championship Wrestling, so I will not bore you all with a wrestling history lesson. I will instead bore you all with my own personal history as an ECW fan. I was introduced to ECW as an impressionable 15 year old by my good friend, and fellow columnist, Johnny P, and immediately swallowed my shot of Paul Heyman’s Kool-Aide. At the time ECW had it all. Not only did they introduce a niche version of hardcore wrestling to the United States that I had never seen before (and what would later become mainstream through copying of the Big 2), they showed me characters who actually gave a damn. No longer was I subjected to clowns, superheros, or God help me, Thanksgiving Turkey’s. Now I was shown a newer and better world of athletes involved in contests that they would give their lives to win, which at the time was a novel concept. These athletes wrestling a stiffer, more “extreme” style, broke kayfabe, and most importantly, came out to really cool entrance songs (give me a break, I was 15 and easy to please).
ECW brought back the old Mid-South way of booking: build up personal feuds that people care about, throw in a little (or a lot if your name is New Jack) of blood, and watch each combatant put everything on the line to win the contest. The characters and the atmosphere created by Paul Heyman encouraged impressionable youths like me to take up arms in the fight against the mainstream. “ASK SABU”!, and “OH MY GOD”! had become a part of my everyday lexicon. I was part of their army and wore my colors proudly. Then the unthinkable happened, ECW lost its magic.
There is not one “finger poke” moment in my ECW experience that I can look back on and say “yep, that’s what did it”. Maybe it was the constant repetitiveness of the extreme style, maybe I was burnt-out by promises of mainstream credibility, or maybe, just maybe, the other promotions took ECW’s style to a different, more enjoyable level. Whatever the reason was, ECW’s stranglehold on me was beginning to break.
One by one ECW’s biggest stars were lured away from their revolution by promises of guaranteed contracts and mainstream stardom. I really can’t blame them. While I know very little of what it actually takes to become a competent professional wrestler, I can only surmise that the endless traveling, the injuries that don’t heal, the time away from family, and the constant fear that the check won’t clear wear on an individual at an accelerated rate. That is true whether you’re a Franchise, or a Human Suplex Machine. Seeing his stars taken away, Paul Heyman did what countless other wrestling bookers who were faced with a similar situation would do, he lied to his talent, and he adapted. He lessened the discontent by giving big pushes and promising paydays that never came. The egos were fed, but the stomachs weren’t. The choruses of “This will be better once we get PPV”, and “This will be better once we go national” did not hold the water that they once did. The writing was on the wall. ECW, despite its rabid fan base, would never be a profitable alternative on a national scale. After signing a deal with the then “Nashville Network” (TNN), ECW averaged a little less than a 1.0 rating and died a quiet death. But the chants never died.
To me ECW represents a time and a place that can never be duplicated. The problem does lies with the product, and the drastically different landscape of modern day professional wrestling. The problem lies with the WWE’s version of “sports entertainment”. The WWE has saturated the marketplace with its own idea of what professional wrestling should be. Gone are the personal feuds, the very real envy over title belts, and the artistry of a professional match. In its place has risen an age of ref bumps, high spots, and owner-centric main events. I don’t wish failure upon the reemerged ECW. I just know the WWE’s pattern. They will take what was once a very real counter-culture movement to both its fans and its workers, and turn it into a garbage wrestling spot-fest until its profitability has been squeezed dry. It will be another carrot on a stick to its audience.
“They won’t screw up this time. We believe in them”. Have they given you any reason to believe in them? Has their product, on a sharp decline since 2001, given you any reason to justify your hopes? Hell, I’m sure I’ll drink the Kool-Aide one more time. I’m sure I’ll buy an ECW ppv, and I’m sure I’ll catch a show here or there. After all we’re all eternal optimists when it comes to the sport we love (although I am beginning to feel like a battered wife who has learned how to properly take a punch). What I can’t bring myself to do however is to follow the WWE’s version of the product with as much intensity and enthusiasm as I once did. Everyone likes to see a few old friends once and a while. But it’s sad when you realize that you and your old friends have nothing in common anymore.