TCP1
04-21-2006, 10:13 AM
Disclaimer: This is a fictional history based on the game Total Extreme Wrestling and should not be miscontrued as actual wrestling news, information, rumors, or results. Any images, logos, banners, avatars used in this forum are copyrighted by the organization they come from.
Eastern Championship Wrestling: The Future of Professional Wrestling
Prologue
Tom Patrick sat on the curb outside his beautiful home in Worcester Park, Surrey. In his left hand, a Lucky Strike cigarette and in his right a deck of wrestling themed cards, each was showing a different wrestling superstar. He carelessly shuffled the deck with one hand, whilst staring across the empty street. A man wearing a blue mask rolled out from the shadows and placed his hand on Tom’s shoulder, he leant close to the dejected figure, his twisted form struggling in its wheelchair, and handed him a newspaper.
The man often named as the force behind this was one Greg Dyke, who at the time was high up in the running of the channel's sports programming. Eager to move with the times, the channel wanted to distance itself from the old fashioned and somewhat stodgy image which clung to domestic pro-wrestling in favour of more popular and forward-looking mainstream sports such as professional football which had recently undergone something of a renaissance to become family-oriented and highly profitable.
The loss of weekly exposure on national television was the first nail in the coffin of the industry. While hardcore fans were still willing to attend the local shows, a significant portion of the audience drawn by the TV broadcasts simply lost interest and drifted away. Obviously a wrestler cannot become or hope to remain a household name if he cannot find a way into the household in the first place and pro-wrestling slowly disappeared from the view of the general public. Slowly but surely the once mighty wrestling industry went into a state of decline; and the majority of promotions simply vanished into the ether of time.
Tom Patrick’s face scrunched up and the paper followed suit, before being cast into the gutter. He placed his head in his hands,
“Where did it all go wrong? What more could I do?”
“Don’t fret Sir, I’ve already made some prospective calls and there appears to be quite a bit of interest for your services in the United States.”
“For me? Christ did they not see what happened to Aguirre Pro Wrestling, it’s down the swanny.” Came Tom’s embittered response.
“Well we have three possible candidates who have made a firm offer for your ability. There is Global Wrestling Federation in Texas?”
“That promotion will be dead in 6 months and I can’t handle another failure like that.”
The Mystery man shuffled some papers in his lap.
“How about East Coast wrestling association? They have some talented younger performers who could blossom under your tutorledge?”
“Nope, Jim Kettnar and I don’t get along, it’s a long story.”
Mystery Man shuffled his papers one last time.
“Then the only other offer is from a small promotion in Philidelphia. Eastern Championship Wrestling. It’s owned by Todd Gordon and he has brought in a new head of creativity in Paul Heyman.”
“You mean Paul E. Dangerously?”
“Er, yes I believe I do. Do you know him?”
“We’ve met at a show in London before the collapse of the industry. Hmm, he was a character then, I wonder if he has mellowed any. Get me my phone M, I’ve got some business to take care of.”
“Of course Sir.”
A large Cell Phone was handed to Tom and within minutes he and Mystery Man were on their way to the airport, for a flight to Philly.
Eastern Championship Wrestling: The Future of Professional Wrestling
Prologue
Tom Patrick sat on the curb outside his beautiful home in Worcester Park, Surrey. In his left hand, a Lucky Strike cigarette and in his right a deck of wrestling themed cards, each was showing a different wrestling superstar. He carelessly shuffled the deck with one hand, whilst staring across the empty street. A man wearing a blue mask rolled out from the shadows and placed his hand on Tom’s shoulder, he leant close to the dejected figure, his twisted form struggling in its wheelchair, and handed him a newspaper.
The man often named as the force behind this was one Greg Dyke, who at the time was high up in the running of the channel's sports programming. Eager to move with the times, the channel wanted to distance itself from the old fashioned and somewhat stodgy image which clung to domestic pro-wrestling in favour of more popular and forward-looking mainstream sports such as professional football which had recently undergone something of a renaissance to become family-oriented and highly profitable.
The loss of weekly exposure on national television was the first nail in the coffin of the industry. While hardcore fans were still willing to attend the local shows, a significant portion of the audience drawn by the TV broadcasts simply lost interest and drifted away. Obviously a wrestler cannot become or hope to remain a household name if he cannot find a way into the household in the first place and pro-wrestling slowly disappeared from the view of the general public. Slowly but surely the once mighty wrestling industry went into a state of decline; and the majority of promotions simply vanished into the ether of time.
Tom Patrick’s face scrunched up and the paper followed suit, before being cast into the gutter. He placed his head in his hands,
“Where did it all go wrong? What more could I do?”
“Don’t fret Sir, I’ve already made some prospective calls and there appears to be quite a bit of interest for your services in the United States.”
“For me? Christ did they not see what happened to Aguirre Pro Wrestling, it’s down the swanny.” Came Tom’s embittered response.
“Well we have three possible candidates who have made a firm offer for your ability. There is Global Wrestling Federation in Texas?”
“That promotion will be dead in 6 months and I can’t handle another failure like that.”
The Mystery man shuffled some papers in his lap.
“How about East Coast wrestling association? They have some talented younger performers who could blossom under your tutorledge?”
“Nope, Jim Kettnar and I don’t get along, it’s a long story.”
Mystery Man shuffled his papers one last time.
“Then the only other offer is from a small promotion in Philidelphia. Eastern Championship Wrestling. It’s owned by Todd Gordon and he has brought in a new head of creativity in Paul Heyman.”
“You mean Paul E. Dangerously?”
“Er, yes I believe I do. Do you know him?”
“We’ve met at a show in London before the collapse of the industry. Hmm, he was a character then, I wonder if he has mellowed any. Get me my phone M, I’ve got some business to take care of.”
“Of course Sir.”
A large Cell Phone was handed to Tom and within minutes he and Mystery Man were on their way to the airport, for a flight to Philly.