The Retribution debut

 After months of speculation, Retribution made their official debut on Raw, opening the show with an in-ring promo to declare their intentions, but the segment muddied the waters more than anything else.

Mia Yim, Dio Madden, Dominick Dijikovik, Mercedes Martinez,  and Shane Thorne stormed the ring wearing masks that made them look like Batman villains or that they were too early for a Halloween party. It looked hokey, not threatening or intimidating. Plus, Bray Wyatt more or less has a monopoly on the over-the-top creepy mask gimmick.

I've written about it several times during the course of this year, but the lack of logic and plain common sense of the product was on full display during this segment. The scripting of this stable has already contradicted itself and it will hinder more than help these athletes on the main roster. Mia Yim, who looked very uncomfortable trying to adjust the mask during the promo, said that Retribution signed their WWE contracts. Full stop. A previous promo from a few weeks ago specifically said that Retribution were competitors from the WWE Performance Center, and it's VERY obvious that despite the new names (more on that later) that these were wrestlers previously seen on NXT so how exactly were they just signed to a WWE contract? Is the audience supposed to ignore the fact that they've already seen or at least heard of Martinez, Yim, Dijikovik, and Dio on WWE programming before? Does management expect viewers not to know this is the same crew they've seen from NXT? A bigger point, if Retribution's directly stated goal is to destroy the main WWE brands, why would they be offered contracts? Why would they want contracts if they are so dissatisfied with the state of the company?

Look, I get that it's professional wrestling and you can stretch the limits of logic to fit a narrative, but when there are so many holes at the basis of a storyline, how does it gain any momentum? The lack of logic, not to mention the cartoonish masks, makes the audience roll their eyes, not invest themselves in the angle.

 Another major contradiction was Dijikovik's portion of the promo where he condemns the main roster for working for the WWE money, but yet the entire stable has acknowledged they signed WWE contracts so how exactly do they have a gripe with the main roster if they are making the same money now?

In the main event, Retribution had a match against The Hurt Business, and it was revealed that their names were Mace, T-Bar, and Slap Jack. How many hokey gimmicks are the writing team going to pile on this stable for them to have to overcome to actually get over?

Again, this comes off like a recycled Nexus angle with Bray Wyatt's gimmick. Speaking of the Nexus, are viewers supposed to believe that Retribution are actually going to make a dent in the WWE? A storyline like this has baby faces and heels fighting together for common goal of WWE, which sidelines other existing angles to some level so the storyline by nature has a limited time frame. Are wrestlers that are feuding with one another on Raw going to set their differences aside for months to battle the new stable? Furthermore, we've seen this group attack Smackdown in the past, but without much explanation, it appears that they've restricted themselves to Raw. How is this a "hostile takeover" of WWE if the faction is only concerned with one brand? Couldn't the entire Smackdown roster just show up to even the odds? Wrestlers have appeared on both shows for months so the brand extension doesn't limit competitors to specific shows.

If you've read this far, (and I thank you) you can tell that I'm not thrilled with where this angle is going, but I can assume you, this isn't an attempt to criticize WWE just to jump on the social media bandwagon. The biggest problem with this presentation is that it's a rather needless attempt to put the "WWE stamp" on this group of wrestlers, and this portrayal might ruin their chance to make a solid first impression to a bigger audience when they might've been better off otherwise. Dio Madden had a few weeks at the commentary desk and Shane Thore wasn't prominently used on NXT so they might be the exception, but did the three main athletes in this stable actually need to be repackaged? Was there any indication that Dijikovik needed a Bane mask to get over on the main roster? Did either Martinez or Mia need a new gimmick? Specifically, those three had a working formula already and it suited them so why dilute that? Dijikovik didn't exactly cut the best promos, but perhaps the persona as the incredible athlete that defied expectations of a big man was the best option for Dijikovik on the main roster. Mia Yim as the "“Blasian Baddie" with the hip hop inspired persona was a unique presentation that worked for her. Martinez as the tough veteran with some of an MMA influence was a character that she did well and she looked like a legitimate combat sports athlete.

The comparison I will draw here is that for years, even as far back as his original stint with the company, management tried to shoehorn Bobby Lashley into a persona that went outside the realm of just his incredible athletic ability. This included the horrendous promos about his sisters, singing on the mic, or the awful Lana storyline. It jumped the shark and got too far outside of the lines of who Lashley is, and more importantly, how to effectively maximize it. The guy trained for the Olympics and MMA record of 15-2, why was the goofy angle with Lana needed? Keep in mind, his membership in The Hurt Business, a role that plays to his previously mentioned strengths, is arguably the best run of his career.

In the same way, I think the Retribution gimmick is unnecessarily putting some talented performers outside of their elements when they already had a formula that worked. Mace, T-Bar, and Slap Jack are now "Raw branded," but let's keep in mind at a time when ratings are sluggish, the goal is ultimately to draw money. If a product sells then any criticism is moot. Just from the genetic names, does Mace, T-Bar, or Slap Jack sound like someone the audience is willing to pay to watch? Any big money matches at Wrestlemania with the name Slap Jack on the marquee?

Vampiro documentary

The sport of professional wrestling, for all of it's forms and mutations, has remained a draw for fans around the globe. The spectacle, the drama, and the athleticism transcends any language barrier. From the time that Rikidozan laid the foundation for the genre along with Karl Gotch in Japan to El Santo's status as a national hero in Mexico, as well as the territory system that stretched across the United States through organizations of regional promoters, the grappling arts continuously connected with its fans on an emotional level. The stories that played out inside the ring gave fans hope, heroes, and thrilling entertainment. There are a select few in the storied history of the industry that have been able to make that connection with the fans from all of the previously mentioned places, which saw their skills and charisma speak louder than any verbal communication. Certain performers have the ability to became stars and draw fans on an international platform, as their work overcomes any perceived cultural boundaries.

One such name is Ian Hodgkinson, a native of Thunder Bay, Ontario that became a legitimately national star in Mexico as Vampiro, exporting that fame to the United States and later Japan throughout a career that spanned over three decades. Along with his exploits around the wrestling world, the former "El Canadiense Vampiro," as he was originally known during his heyday in Mexico, Hodgkinson remains one of the intriguing and controversial figures in the business. Despite being the subject of previous documentaries and interviews, there's still an unknown aura around the grappler that retains a level of mystic even without his trademark face paint.

Could anyone crack the code of Vampiro? More importantly, could someone discover who Ian Hodgkinson is?

Michael Paszt, a Canadian filmmaker with dozens of productions to his name, was willing to attempt to discover the man behind the myth after a coincidence meeting reconnected them in 2017. Similar to Ian, Paszt was a Canadian living in Mexico in the early-2000s, working as a reporter for the "Super Luchas" publication and thus had access to inner circle of figures involved in Lucha libre at the time. Over a decade and a half later, Michael saw his old friend again by chance during their travels and the seeds for a project were planted.
 
"I bumped into Vampiro at the Toronto airport and was amazed to learn that he was flying from Canada to Mexico City on a weekly basis, all the while trying to raise his teenage daughter by himself. That became the heart of my documentary. A father simply trying to raise his daughter the only way he knows how. I think a lot of people go in thinking it’s just another wrestling doc, but I wanted to focus on a father's love for his daughter. Wrestling is the backdrop but the overall theme is family, Paszt explained.

The director knew he had a story, but with a subject like Vampiro, a performer as complex as he is accomplished, it wouldn't be an easy task to try to peel back to the layers of the persona to reach narrative that fans didn't see on the surface. Paszt and his team spent nearly three years chronicling Hodgkinson life, a journey that took them to multiple countries and into who he is as a man.

 "My biggest challenge was the editing process. You can imagine shooting for three years and having a massive archive, we needed to get through the weeds. Finding our story was like threading a needle.  We got that with Daniel Palmer.  He edited a few episodes of Dark Side of the Ring, and he's a brilliant story editor, Paszt added.

I went into this viewing experience very skeptical, simply because I watched other pieces on Vampiro in the past and they didn't get beyond his on-screen persona. Were they entertaining? Sure, Vampiro's charismatic deliver made for a good show, but those projects resulted in more sizzle than substance.  There was also the matter that the ability to shoot footage is much easier with modern technology, and it becomes very convenient for someone to half-haphazardly slap together clips to call it a pro wrestling documentary. For the past twenty years, particularly since the release of "Beyond The Mat" in 1999, the term "professional wrestling documentary" was used as a buzz term to get fans to at least take a look.

Thankfully, "Nail in The Coffin:The Fall and Rise of Vampiro" is not a fluff piece.

As director Paszt mentioned, the focus of this feature is more Ian Hodgkinson the family man than Vampiro the professional wrestler. Within that narrative is the contrast and sometimes the conflict of that balancing act. Almost immediately, viewers are thrust into the dichotomy of Vampiro's existence in Thunder Bay, a city near Lake Superior, and his role within the often chaotic world of lucha libre in Mexico City. Cameras find the legendary luchador, not in the ring, but behind the scenes as the lead producer for AAA's biggest event of the year, Triplemania in 2017. The event promoted a famous mask vs. mask bout, a lucha specialty, between Psycho Clown and Dr. Wagner Jr., but became infamous for some incidents on the under card. As is now well-known, Sexy Star, a female wrestler that made some noise in the United States during her stint on Lucha Underground when the series aired on the El Rey network, intentionally injured Impact Wrestling star, Rosemary. At a level of unprecedented access, Paszt's crew catches the aftermath and the heated argument behind the curtain. As Jeff Jarrett mentioned in an interview clip during this segment, hurting someone on purpose is a "cardinal sin in the wrestling business," and the audience sees Vampiro tasked with trying to defuse the situation. Speaking of Double J, Triplemania that year was also the event where he showed up intoxicated in the ring, and subsequently entered rehab for substance issues. Cameras catch Jarrett belligerent backstage both before and after his match, as well as Vampiro being forced to restraint him to avoid a physical altercation with other wrestlers. I know this makes for "red meat" for a trailer, but I feel like this was extremely unfair to Jeff Jarrett because despite interview clips throughout the documentary that show him in healthy condition, there's no mention that he successfully completed rehab and now works for the WWE as a producer in this film. Don't get me wrong, Jarrett had to take responsibility for his own actions, but without the full story, which has a much happier conclusion, this segment comes off as a form of exploitation of someone that was clearly struggling, which wasn't needed, as the central story is strong enough on its own to intrigue viewers.

On the flip side, the next shot sees Vampiro back in Thunder Bay, quietly discussing the ups and downs of his career. One of the most intriguing aspects here is when the audience is treated to a collection of footage of Vampiro in his heyday from CMLL in Mexico, including the original goth vignettes that introduced the vampire persona to the Mexican audience. An athlete throughout his youth, his frame looked suitable for wrestling. His pale skin, tattoos, and purple braids were such a contrast to anything the Hispanic fans saw previously that he stood out even in a world of super hero characters almost immediately in the early-90s. It's unfortunately that so many American fans don't realize just how big of a star he was during his original run in Mexico, appearing in movies and TV shows. The clips of Vampiro trying to get to the ring as female fans cling to him, and footage of him on main stream Mexico talk shows in his prime really illustrate just how popular he was at the time.

"Vamp was over like Warrior and very much for the ladies," said Sam Panico, a 25-year pro and one of the most respected figures of the Pittsburgh area, especially for his extensive knowledge of Lucha Libre and Japanese wrestling.

But, how did Ian go from Thunder Bay literally across the continent to Mexico City as Vampiro?

One of the most intriguing aspects of this production is it takes Vampiro back to his childhood, where we see pictures of him as a highly-touted hockey prospect in his youth, and his mom as well as his sister talking about his early days. These segments give you a glimpse at Ian behind the charismatic shield of "El Canadiense Vampiro." One of the more heart-breaking moments of this documentary is the revelation that Hodgkinson was the victim of sexual abuse by a priest when he was younger, and while he didn't elaborate too much on it, you have to wonder if that trauma was a factor in some of the decisions he made later in life.

One a more positive note, Ian recounts his discovery of pro wrestling and punk rock respectively. In the early-80s, he saw a newly-formed massive tag team with face paint and a smash-mouth style called the Road Warriors demolishing opponents in the AWA. Around the same time, he was introduced to punk music while on a hockey trip by one of his fellow players. When he heard Sid Vicious wailing on a cassette tape, the distorted and energetic sound mesmerized him. Not long after, Ian bleached his hair to emulate the Sex Pistols front man and pursued music in a more serious fashion.

The details of how he eventually broke into the wrestling business are as unconventional as his in-ring style. He saw professional wrestling and punk rock as a slick as well as aggressive combination that complimented one another so he wanted to get his foot in the door somehow. By 1984, he more or less continuously showed up at the Montreal-based "International Wrestling" organization until he was allowed to work meager roles for the promotion. From there, Ian was introduced to the mafia syndicate in Montreal, and his stories of working for the group are wild. Knowing that collections for the Canadian mob wasn't exactly the most promising career path, he jetted to Los Angeles on a whim, hoping to break into the music scene there. Again, the stories that he gets into during this portion of the production show just how remarkable of a life he had, even before he started a legendary wrestling career. His time working as a body guard for Milli Vanilli, the lip-syncing duo that swerved the music industry, make for some entertaining tales, too.

With LA being closer to the boarder, similar to how he showed up outside of venues in Montreal, the documentary explains how he  did virtually the same thing in Mexico City and was basically picked from the group of athletes looking for work because of his unique look. Again, the match clips and segments here do a nice job of showing just how big of a star the Vampiro persona was during his heyday at Arena Mexico. TV shows, movies, concerts, talk shows, comic books, and many other avenues afforded to main stream stars were platforms that showcased the goth character. Granted, Vampiro wasn't an expect technical wrestler, but he connected with the Hispanic fans on an emotional level through the energy and presence he brought to the ring, which is why he status within lucha libre is still a draw today.

However, we all know that the fast-paced physical performance of professional wrestling comes with its share of injuries, especially from the notoriously stiff lucha rings. Hodgkinson details a horrendous knee injury early in his career when he was scheduled to wrestle a second match that night, and instead of the follow-up match being cancelled, the doctor at the event drained his knee in the locker room and injected him with a pain killer, simply to get him through the next bout without any concern of how it might affect him beyond the final bell that evening. One of the most hard-hitting and harshest portrayals of this feature is when Paszt was allowed to follow modern day Vampiro to a doctor's appointment where the physician adamantly tells the aging grappler that even one-off returns to in-ring competition could be disastrous to his health. In today's wrestling when so much of the current style is based on more high risk than the past, Ian's admission of over twenty concussions should serve as a precautionary tale.

One of the dynamics of the documentary is how Paszt wove Vamprio's stellar career with its impact on the Ian of 2019. The part of that dynamic that might be more challenging than any opponent he ever faced inside the ring ropes, raising a daughter as she became a young adult. In my opinion, the most fascinating side of this presentation is how Ian shows such a genuine love for his daughter, Dasha, but unique challenges emerge based on his particular career path. After years in Mexico, Hodgkinson relocated back to Thunder Bay specifically to raise Dasha. But, as an active wrestler on the road for so many years, the two almost had to reacquaint themselves with one another, as far as living together on a full-time basis. It's almost a comical moment when he goes from advising bloody luchadors to picking up the phone to advise his daughter to be ready for classes for the upcoming week.

There was also some archival-type footage from 2006, which I believe was originally shot for a lesser known show about Vampiro that lacked the production value and the direction of Paszt's documentary. The Vampiro of 2006 finds himself in a park in Mexico City while a very young Dasha in on the playground. It's amazing to see how time and specifically fatherhood over the course of Dasha's life changed Ian's prospective. There was a snippet from that earlier time when Vampiro was laughing about his previous addictions and didn't seem too concerned about its long-term effects. You can tell in his current demeanor that he's very concerned about his well-bell and the uncertainty of his future.

His World Championship Wrestling tenure was touched on briefly and while the way he was misused there didn't necessarily merit much time anyway, I found it lacked some explanation of specific people that were discussed. For example, there was a reference to Vince Russo without any mention that he was the head writer of the company at the time and thus had major influence on the opportunities that were offered to wrestlers there. Considering it has been two decades since WCW folded, and this documentary has more of an appeal than just another wrestling show, some of the current viewers might not be familiar with the references made toward his WCW run.

Aside from the adventures of fatherhood, Hodgkinson wrestled with an issue that is a challenge for many sports figures, when to hang up the boots. Even when retirement seems like the only option, the adrenaline rush of the performance and the energy of the crowd remain alluring for athletes to compete one more time. Again, the contrast between parenting and pro wrestling is shown when Ian and Dasha sit down for lunch. While Ian stressed the importance of her education, his daughter questions why he continues to run himself ragged with trips to Mexico, the US, and then back to Canada. To put the inquiry in context, viewers see footage of Vampiro's famous Lucha Underground match with Pentagon Jr, which introduced his opponent to American fans, while the contest reintroduced him to a new generation. Light tubes, thumbtacks, and fire just aren't something that Ian Hodgkinson should've put his body through at that point so the attention it garnered during its original airing was more of a swan song than a sign of a comeback.

It's reassuring to see some of his post-wrestling plans form, as he teaches Krav Maga self defense classes in Thunder Bay and works with the Guardian Angels in an effort to help the community. The crescendo of the documentary, and quite possible his life's work doesn't involve the lucha libre action, but rather Dasha's high school graduation. Still true to his Vampiro style, Ian sports a gothic overcoat to the ceremony, as we see the grappler that endured chairs, fire, and glass in the ring, shed proud tears as Dasha's name is announced for her official graduation. The sequence really encapsulates the heart of the documentary and quite possibly reveals the motivation of why Vampiro took on such a busy schedule over the past few years, despite his physical decline.

As we roll to credits, we're informed that Ian was diagnosed with early on-set Alzheimer's disease and seeks treatment for it in Nevada. Dasha spoke very well throughout this feature and I believe she will have a successful career within her chosen field. As much as the film concluded on a somber note, it reinforced the very real physical price that is paid in the name of entertainment. Thankfully, since production wrapped on the project, Vampiro has said in recent interviews that his physical condition has improved and treatments for the early dementia have been effective. This presentation offers a little bit of everything because you have the intrigue of the origins of this mysterious persona, the sentimental moments of a family, and of course the insanity that can only occur within pro wrestling. More than anything, I think this is the most honest look fans have seen at the complex and controversial career of lucha libre star. Ironically, while this film will be marketed based on the popularity of the Vampiro, it's much more a documentary about the man behind the persona, Ian Hodgkinson.

The career of The Beastman

Almost two decades ago, an obscure independent wrestler named "Sweet" Stevie Lee was on the mic at an even more obscure local event in a rural part of West Virginia. In typical "rasslin" fashion, it didn't take much for "Sweet" Stevie to incite the audience, challenging anyone in attendance to get into the ring to square off with the villainous grappler. A surprise to Stevie, the ring announcer, and the referee, a bulky 15-year-old kid actually accepted the invitation and immediately climbed inside the ring ropes. Obviously, Stevie wanted to rile up the crowd to enhance the narrative of his match that night, not trade arm drags with a ninth grader so security politely escorted the overzealous youngster back to his seat in the front row.

The fan obviously didn't lack passion for the sport of professional wrestling, the genre that blends athletics and theatrics to create an over-the-top spectacle that presents a unique live experience that sets it apart from other forms of entertainment. Just a few years prior to his unintentional in-ring debut, that same enthusiastic fan found himself suspended for a few days from middle school after he got into a physical altercation with a fellow student that wore a Sting t-shirt. He took any allegiance to WCW as an insult because he was WWF through-and-through during the famous Monday Night Wars.

You can't say the fan didn't have passion.
  
"I know this sounds cheesy, but when I stepped into a ring for the first time, I knew that this was what I wanted to do and that was chase my dream of becoming a professional wrestler."

The fan that hit the ring and previously hit a classmate all in the name of the prosperity of professional wrestling was Wes Fetty, a big man that is known as much for his kind demeanor outside of the ring as he is for his incredible agility inside of it. Today, Wes is just entering the prime of his career and recently made great strides to expand his name outside of his tri-state arena, debuting for Warrior Wresting in Chicago for their Stadium Series, events that have garnered notoriety for their unique set up that allowed fans to attend live wrestling in a safe manner during the pandemic era. Known as the monstrous "Beastman," Wes received rave review for his for performance there and is scheduled to return to the promotion this weekend. But, before he worked alongside international names under the stadium lights with the live stream of the event online being watched by fans across the country, Fetty's journey was anything but glamorous.

From very humble beginnings, Wes didn't have many material items during his youth and was often bullied at school. He credits his mom, who he says wasn't a wrestling fan, but secretly still cheered for Bret Hart, for providing him a sense of stability in his early years. When some of the harsh realities of financial struggles or life circumstances became overwhelming, a young Wes turned to professional wrestling for solace from it all.

"Just watching Saturday morning cartoons then WWF Superstars and seeing Hulk Hogan, Randy Savage, and The Iron Sheik. As a kid, it was a real-life cartoon show, and I knew that was what I wanted to be when I grew up," Wes explained.

Fetty saw through these larger-than-life personas that beamed through his television screen as a much more thrilling experience than he had in the small town where he lived in West Virginia. After attending a few local cards around the time he was 18, Wes asked around about how he could become involved in the sport. Naive to the shark tank that can often be the small-time indie circuit where nickel-and-dime promoters look to exploit hopefuls to attempt to make a quick dollar, Wes attempted to practice techniques before the doors would open for a local event.

"Well, I started out the wrong way completely. I was going to indy shows, and people were teaching me how to bump, tie-up, and run the ropes. A couple of times I had been put in battle royals, but I was just a beat up guy. Little did I know, I was learning the wrong way of how to be in the business," Wes explained.

After he went to college to pursue options in higher education, he resurfaced around his hometown, looking for a proper way to break into the business. He found a small-time promoter that actually had some legitimate connections to those that provided training in the sport, and offered to make introductions. The only problem was, a proper training space wasn't available so a ring was sandwiched into a dingy garage without any shield from the elements.

"We started training in a garage every week for nine months. When it snowed, one half of the ring got covered so we stopped and had to clean the snow off the ring. We trained when it was freezing and when it was so hot you could feel the heat on the canvas when you landed," he commented.

By 2006, Wes began working local cards under a mask, but even after a few years, found that things just weren't clicking for him the way he wanted. He wanted more than just "being in the game," he wanted to excel at this sport. So, he jammed most of his belongings into his car and relocated Shawsville, Virginia, a town just outside of Roanoke, to attend Jimmy Valiant's training school in 2010. Known as "The Boogie Woogie Man" in his heyday, Valiant's over 50 years of knowledge was a superb learning experience, something that Wes credits for helping to make him the wrestler he is today.

 "I really learned about psychology and really got seasoned up. I truly learned the art of the hustle there," Wes remarked.

With new skills and a sense of confidence based on the valuable lessons he learned, Wes returned to his home town nearly two years later and wanted a fresh start, opting to abandon the mask persona. To maximize the impact of his 350 LBS frame, he wanted to add a wild side to his presentation, and a combination of advice from stellar veteran, Jock Samson, and inspiration from an unlikely source started the next chapter of his career.

So, one night Jock Samson came up to me and told me I needed to be more like a beast. I was confused with what he was telling me until I watched 'Ace Ventura When Nature Calls' and there was a scene where Jim Carey was fighting a savage so I watched his mannerisms. I started studying guys like Bruiser Brody, Kamala, The Missing Link, and George Steele," Fetty said.

To add to a mixture that only pro wrestling could produce, Wes took advice on concepts for an in-ring style from fellow West Virginian, Necro Butcher, who he traveled with because the two lived close to each other at the time. Clad in furry boots as an homage to Brody, Wes took the tri-state area by strom throughout the past few years, as he really found himself with the Beastman persona and impressed peers and fans with a solid set of skills inside the ropes. The right fundamentals meshed well with his natural athleticism, a trait that he had since he played football in his high school days. As the Beastman, Wes learned not only had to make an impact with his in-ring agility, but also to leave a memorable impression on the audience with his caveman character.  However, despite a super heavyweight frame, a strict training regiment is still a part of his usual routine because he knows the importance that mobility is to his style and to prevent injuries.

"I’m always doing something active. When I work out, I’m doing more cardio than weights because with me being a big guy, I have to have good wind. There's a mix of workouts I watch on YouTube and I have DDP Yoga to help with my mobility as well. I’m going to start getting into cross fit in the near future," Wes said.

After six years as "The Beastman" Wes developed quite a solid reputation for himself, winning championships and working as a featured competitor for a myriad of organizations in West Virginia and also around the Pittsburgh area. From sparsely attended shows to packed venues, Fetty lodged miles on the road and late nights in the car just to get a chance to hone his craft during the time that he grew by leaps and bounds as a performer. Finally, his hard work paid off as a Pittsburgh native that went on to become a truly international star with runs in Japan, Mexico, and Europe, Sam Adonis, contacted Fetty about a possible trip to Chicago for the previously mentioned Warrior Wrestling.

"It was a place I’ve wanted to get into for over a year. Sam Adonis is a big help for me getting in I asked him who I would need to get in contact with and I sent them my stuff. Sam sent me a text one day, asking if I wanted to go work for Warrior. The whole experience was wonderful. The roster is great and the promoters are great people, and the reason why they are doing Warrior is such a great cause for their school," Wes explained.

So, this weekend Wes will jump into the car and travel several hours for the chance to have some time under the big lights of Warrior Wrestling, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Wes Fetty wasn't a natural talent, but that's what makes his story notable. He couldn't settled for wrestling a dozen times a year for some alphabet soup promotion that nobody has ever heard of in a town that nobody would recognized. But, he wanted more for himself and put the work in to make the improvements to achieve his goals. He didn't idly accept his limitations, but rather he put the time and the effort into learning his craft, the same that has to be done with any other learned skill. He dedicated himself toward a goal and continues to make progress even nearly 15 years after he sheepishly put on a mask for his rookie year in the industry. Throughout that time, he became a polished professional, and cites a major contract as his goal in the business. If Wes finds himself on national TV one day remains to be seen, but the stadium lights he will be under this weekend are far away from the ring covered in snow in the garage when he started his journey in the professional wrestling industry.

Nick Diaz return

As sports attempt to return on some type of full scale, most of us just hope for the end of 2020, the year the COVID pandemic shut down most of the world and remains a hurdle for many events. With a desperate sense of optimism for 2021, many people hope that a new year will provide some relief from the continuous dread of the current year with the pandemic, social conflict, and a political circus. For the world of mixed martial arts, Dana White's "Fight Island" and the UFC Apex training center allowed for a combat sports bubble that allowed for a safe presentation of events.

It was recently mentioned to ESPN's Aerial Hawaii by Nick Diaz's management team that the former Strike Force Welterweight champion looks to return to the octagon early next year after a five-year hiatus from the UFC. The story is noteworthy because Diaz is a rather unique character, but he along with his brother, Nick have been known to draw numbers when they step inside the cage.

But, the main question here, and really the most important one, especially in the fight business is, does Nick Diaz still have drawing power after what will be six years away from the sport by the time he puts the gloves on to return?

A journeyman in some ways, the 37-year-old fighter began his career young, making his pro debut in 2001 and competed for a variety of organizations. The Gracie Jiu-jitsu black belt brought a combination of slick submissions, good cardio, and solid boxing skills to the table that allowed for a well-rounded skill set. Despite his original stint in the UFC just a few years after he started in MMA, the prime of his career was mostly throughout the mid-2000s when he fought primarily for Strike Force with occasional bouts in Japan as well. He won the Strike Force 170 LBS title in 2010 and successfully defended it three times before the UFC bought the organization, which saw the championships dissolved.

In truth, if the UFC hadn't purchased its competition at the time, it's doubtful that Diaz would've returned to the company because while the UFC puts the UFC brand first, Nick doesn't seem too concerned with any of the notoriety associated with fighting in the biggest MMA organization in the world. But, that philosophy of the anti-establishment is what made the Diaz brothers much more marketable in the process. It's ironic because the lack of going along with the promotional machine is ultimately what made them more popular and thus able to demand more money to sign to fight. Don't get me wrong, the Diaz brothers are talented fighters, but a look at their MMA records will show you that they aren't necessarily at an elite level. That being said, the biggest factor in the fight business is the ability to draw money, and if fans are willing to pay to see Nick fight again then the nine losses on his record are irrelevant.

Speaking of which, his last stint in the UFC was slightly underwhelming because while he stepped back into the octagon at UFC 137 to beat BJ Penn via unanimous decision in late-2011, he lost a decision against Carlos Condit at UFC 143 in 2012 before he was defeated by Georges St. Pierre over a year later. The title shot granted against GSP wasn't exactly earned considering that Diaz lost his previous fight and hadn't competed in a year, but was promoted as a grudge match, generating over 950,000 pay-per-view buys. After almost two years away from the sport, Diaz fought Anderson Silva in January of 2015, originally defeated via lackluster decision, but the bout was later declared a no contest after Silva tested positive for steroids, while Diaz tested positive for marijuana for a post-fight drug test.

If Nick still has the ability to move numbers remains to be seen. It's very possible that the Diaz "brand" was kept relevant by his brother, Nate's bouts in recent years, including a pair of fights against Conor McGregor, and the BMF ceremonial title contest against  Jorge Masvidal. The Diaz brothers are known for trash talk and an unconventional presentation so I would guess that if Nick's return is going to sell well it has to be based on more sizzle than substance.

Again, that's fine if it moves numbers, mostly because a return at his age, Nick would be signed for the "money bouts," not necessarily to move up the rankings, especially because his rather hostile dynamic with the UFC office doesn't lend itself to any type of long-term deal. If or how the UFC and ESPN promote a possible Nick Diaz return would be key to the type of numbers he might draw at this point in his career. Keep in mind, Nick hasn't fought in almost six years and hasn't won a fight in nine years so there isn't exactly a demand for him to compete again. Another aspect to consider is that along with the return of more live sports, there will naturally be less of a draw for the casual fans, as a rather average on paper UFC 249 card garnered 700,000 buys because it was one of the very few offerings of live sports to fans during the bulk of the shut down during the early months of the pandemic.

But, novelties can draw numbers.

Conor McGregor, who was recently detained to be questioned for a possible sexual assault incident in France before he was released, claimed to be retired for a third time a few months ago.Assuming McGregor can avoid any other legal hurdles, his retirement will probably conclude as soon as the UFC is willing to offer him an amount he will agree to sign a contract to fight. Obviously, there's a possible trilogy fight again Nate Diaz, but a "revenge fight" against Nick could sell, too. Another marketable contest would be Nick vs. Jorge for the BMF title based on the previous fight against Nate last year. Perhaps, Nick vs. Jorge and Nate vs. Conor on the same pay-per-view, which would draw mega numbers.

Do I think Nick Diaz's return to the octagon could draw pay-per-view buys? Yes, but I think it's a one-off before he because dissatisfied with the deal and chooses to retire again. Nick Diaz is a rather odd bird and walks to the beat of his own drum. He might view this comeback as just a way to cash-in on another big payday while he's still young enough to do it, and if he can get a contract for major cash at this point in his career, good for him, that's capitalism. That being said, novelties draw, but by nature, there's limited mileage from them. Nick doesn't want another run at the title, just another payday so one of the previously mentioned "money fights" is the way to go because it maximizes the potential cash for everyone involved. I'm still skeptical that we see Nick back in the octagon because unless he gets offered the number he wants to sign the contract, he seems equally as content to continue to teach ju-jitsu at the Diaz school in California.

While Nick back in the cage is somewhat of a nostalgia act, it highlights a glaring problem for the UFC because while the possible "retirement" of Conor McGregor and the actual recent retirement of Daniel Cormier, how many money-drawing stars does the promotion have on the roster? Amanda Nunes is absolutely a star, Jon Jones can bring PPV buys to the table when he's actually eligible to fight, and Adesanya has potential, but there are very few fighters that guarantee big numbers for the organization. Khabib had a surge in popularity since he beat McGregor a few years ago, but even he has mentioned possible retirement after his current contract expires. The sum total of most of this is that the UFC catered to Conor McGregor for years at the expense of the structure of two divisions and more importantly the opportunity for other fighters to make a name for themselves. Now, the argument could be made that the company lacks major stars so while Nick Diaz could boost numbers for a one-off event, the organization still doesn't have the next generation of stars to draw money in the sport.

Roddy Piper documentary

Roderick Toombs, a native of Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, left home in his early teen years, spending nights in a youth hostel for 25 cents before he was introduced to combat sports through boxing at a local gym. At just 15, he was recruited into the ranks of professional wrestling, a refuge from the turbulent upbringing he had. He also picked up the bagpipes and became a member of the city of Toronto Pipe Band.

That enthusiastic youngster that fearlessly climbed into the ring for his first match with the grizzled Larry "The Axe" Hennig went from the streets of Saskatoon as Roderick Toombs to the main event of Wrestlemania at Madison Square Garden as the iconic "Rowdy" Roddy Piper. From working preliminarily matches for $25 a night to working alongside John Carpenter on the set of the cult classic, "They Live" in Hollywood, the host of "Piper's Pit" had one of the most storied lives in both sports and entertainment.

One of the most charismatic, controversial, and memorable figures of his generation, Roddy made his name of a hated villain, but in the process built a beloved legacy. Through the rough stages of his early years, Roddy always seems to remain authentic, which is why so many identified with him during his time in the ring. When Roddy spoke, the fans believed it because he believed it. The grittiness that Piper projected to an audience was forged by Toombs, as he clawed his way from poverty to pro wrestling prosperity. Obviously, these accomplishments were the subject of books, documentaries, and numerous discussions among fans. Still, his legacy is as complex as it is controversial, and quite simply, no one project can truly summarize the impact "Rowdy" Roddy had on the professional wrestling industry.

However, a newly-released collection of stories attempts to tackle not only Piper's contribution to the business, but the influence he had on some of those that knew him best. Joe Dombrowski, a nearly 20-year veteran of the game as a commentator, video producer, and merchandise mogul, had dedicated his entire adult life to the business of the grappling arts. Dombrowski, the current host of Ring Of Honor's Future of Honor segments, is one of the most well-known voices of the independent circuit, a staple of the Pittsburgh scene through his work with the International Wrestling Cartel, but also makes his way through various states, and even other countries as well. The producer behind the critically-acclaimed "Montreal Theory," a deep dive into what exactly happened on that infamous night in 1997, and "Wrestling From The Heartland," a glimpse into the extremely rare footage of Les Thatcher's developmental territory, Joe looked to make Roddy Piper the subject of his next in-depth presentation, with the hope of providing a new angle of insight on the iconic athlete for the viewing audience.

"Roddy is one of the most iconic talents to ever exist in pro wrestling, with a story like absolutely no other. When the idea first came up, I immediately knew I would have a goldmine of wild stories, priceless experiences, controversy, and just an overall life impossible to be replicated today. I was really excited to get a chance to share the most authentic version of Roddy's life I could, not through my eyes or even just his own eyes, but through the eyes of everyone that shared in that journey with him," Dombrowski explained.

But, as mentioned, the man that once legitimately smashed a beer bottle over his head on live TV just to make a point about an upcoming cage match with The Sheepherders had many different sides to his persona. Roddy wasn't perfect and he didn't pretend to be, which allowed the audience to connect with him on a level beyond just the theatrics of the ring. Attempting to unwrap that mystery proved to be one of the most challenging aspects of the nearly 18 months of work that went into this project. Joe spent countless hours in his home office, a room with carded WWF Hasbro figures and other memorabilia plastered on the walls, sifting though hundreds of hours of interviews to find even just a few minutes of a gem about Piper.

"Watching content and making notes, that part was mostly fun. The struggle comes with gathering the hundreds of clips and piecing together a narrative. I could have easily slapped it together as just a bunch of random stories and memories shared out of sequence, but I think Roddy deserves better than that. I wanted to take that same journey he did. While I won't say we covered every top moment of his career due to time or lack of footage speaking on it, I do think we made it a point to hit every high point," Joe commented.

"Legacy:Rowdy Roddy Piper" is an unfiltered look at the career of the man that changed the questions when so many thought they had the answers. This 4-hour feature attempts to answer those questions without a corporate spin or agenda. The gory details of his dog collar match with Greg Valentine at Starrcade in 1983 will be recounted by not only the man himself, but "The Hammer" as well. Backstage disputes that were avoided in previous productions on Roddy's career are discussed extensively in this presentation by Piper and his peers that uncovered rarely discussed details.

"I've always loved hearing the old 'war stories' as told by the veterans who were there. I suppose, if anything, it gave me insight to the different facets of Roddy and his psyche. some of the things he struggled with, some of the pitfalls he dealt with. I hoped for this piece to be very authentic, I don't think the average viewer will agree with 100% of Roddy's thoughts and viewpoints, but I hope they'll walk away with a better understanding of them. It's a fun and revealing look into one of the most unique times our industry has ever seen and one of the most polarizing individuals to have lived through it," Dombrowski remarked.

Aside from his battles in the ring, this production sheds some light into the business mind of the Rowdy one as well, his rocky road into the harsh business always kept him leary  of a promoter's promises. He kept his guard up with how his persona was presented, as he knew it was the sum total of his work in the ring, but also extended beyond the squared circle with the opportunities it brought him with film work. Roddy knew that sports entertainers, especially those from his generation, weren't given a fair shake my times by management. Despite hundreds on pro bouts a year in the ring, he found something as conventional as health insurance on set through his membership with the Screen Actor's Guild. One of the most intriguing aspects of the "Legacy" presentation is an observation into Roddy's mindset about being able to say a step ahead of the promoters to give himself more options.

"Maybe there's a long-time Piper fan out there just learning some things about Roddy for the first time. Maybe there's an up-and-coming wrestler who's seen some of Roddy's stuff and wants a crash course to learn more. Regardless, I love having being able to create something that can have an impact on an audience, and that's something Roddy never failed to do himself," Dombrowski explained.

So, as much as the life and career of Roddy Piper was covered and celebrated for its iconic status, Dombrowski's "legacy" production is a deep dive into the stories that be new information for even the most diehard fans. With dozens of his peers to add to the wild tales, this feature is yet another example of one of the most legendary careers in the history of sports entertainment.

What's the WWE status?

Last week, WWE made headlines on social media, as it was revealed that all talent under contract must end their deals with third parties, even if its under their real names. The controversial decision will see platforms like Cameo, Twitch, and other social media outlets affected, which are a considerable revenue source for some on the roster. There are a few different ways to look at this scenario, but none of them are a good look for the global publicly-traded company. The WWE is a billion dollar promotion and has boasted about record-setting revenue on recent conference calls so it's difficult to see the organization as losing profits on cameo deals, whereas that cash makes a difference to the independent contractors that work for WWE. Speaking of which, management might be opening Pandora's box with this decision because it puts a spotlight on pro wrestlers' status as somehow independent contractors, despite the exclusivity and restrictions that go along with a WWE contract.

How professional wrestlers fall under 1099 status has been a subject of debate for a few decades, and this latest restriction might get someone with authority to actually examine the issue when they might've not noticed otherwise. Granted, those within the industry or that follow it closely can cite the numerous conflicts of a pro wrestler's job with the criteria of a truly independent contractor, but as far as government regulation of that protocol, the only interest is to collect the taxes from the events. But, why exactly would WWE brass decide this is a policy that is worth to enforce, especially because they are already going to generate record profits this year?

The petty answer is that Vince McMahon wants a cut of the cash from Cameo, Twitch, etc. On the surface it might make sense because the TV time those athletes get on his show allow them to become known commodities, but at the same time, Vince wouldn't be the CEO of a billion dollar organization without the talent that draws fans so it's a two-way street.

The more probable answer is that if WWE talent can make a name for themselves, and more importantly, make considerable money for themselves, they have more leverage in negotiations with the company. Just as an example, if Xavier Woods' Youtube channel helps him maintain his popularity without continuous WWE exposure than he has more options when he attempts to sign a new deal. In many ways, for decades, professional wrestlers have been beholden to the promoter because the exposure a company offered was the best way to become a star in the industry. Greg Valentine is still taking indy bookings mostly based on his WWF run in the 80s. In the early 2000s, someone that had a cup of coffee on Raw could rest assured they'd get indy work and probably a TNA run strictly based off of that stint on WWE TV. The bottom line is, being featured on Vince McMahon's program was the biggest way to not only make money, but to assure some level of success based off of it in the years that followed.

As is the case with most entertainment ventures in the digital age, social media can have a major impact on someone's status within their field. Youtube creators and Instagram influencers that I've never heard of can gain product sponsorships and make $50 a piece for Cameo videos. The professional wrestling industry is no different, and the evolution of the concept of All Elite Wrestling is proof of just how powerful social media can be if the right talent use it in the right way. Granted, Twitter doesn't make anyone a great performer in the ring, but it gave them a spotlight to get themselves over and thus show fans how great they are in the ring. The Young Bucks were underutilized talent in TNA, Cody was misused in WWE, and Kenny Omega was working in Japan for a diehard audience as far as the American demographic. Until a social media presence allowed them to build a buzz for themselves and the right opportunities came along at the right time with the right talent, which is something that can't be designed or planned. These guys made themselves bigger stars on their own than when they had cable TV exposure, and sold out a major venue more or less based on social media hype. Tony Khan happened to see that and was willing to invest the funds to launch a promotion, which is now a profitable venture on TNT.

From purely a promoter stand point, there's no reason Vince wants any of his contract talent doing anything outside the realm of WWE because the more over wrestlers are without WWE, the less power Vince has as the boss. Don't get me wrong, this isn't a jab at Vince, the sparring session between promoters and talent has always happened across the board in entertainment. The promoter trying to maximize his profits while the talent attempt to get the best deal possible for themselves is the nature of the beast.

Still, how this is handled by the talent and where it goes might have more of a ripple effect than Vince intended. I doubt this is based on Vince getting a slice of cameo or Twitch revenue and much more to do with the talent getting themselves more well-known outside of WWE. A side note is, any avenue outside of the WWE platform gives the talent the chance to address a topic without it being filtered through the company, as fans saw when AJ Styles addressed his discontent with Paul Heyman after Gallows and Anderson were released a few months ago. The biggest factor is that if someone within power actually takes a serious look at the independent contractor status, it could cost the company millions of dollars because if the wrestlers are employees, the company would have to offer health insurance and have to pay more taxes based on the number of employees in the company. Granted, even if the organization had those added expenses, they are still going to make major profits, but Vince didn't become a billionaire because he threw money away.

On the most basic level, there's no logical reason that WWE wrestlers are considered independent contractors, as the basis for that status is that workers can't be restricted to where they can work, which is the primary aspect of a WWE contract. While the company definitely has the rights to the names they trademark and the intellectual properties of the characters, the fact that a talent under WWE contract can't wrestle for another promotion would classify them as an employee. Raven, former ECW champion, actually tried to take the subject to court several years ago and claimed that he was told he had a case, but the statue of limitations had expired. Perhaps, there's some legal grey area or an explanation, but it's surprising that the 1099 classification for pro wrestlers hasn't been  challenged more often.

It will be interesting to see how this situation develops and if any of the talent attempt to ignore the announcement. What if the talent collectively decide not to end their cameo and twitch deals? Would Vince actual fire Big E, Sasha, and others? The majority of this discussion is probably moot because the talent will probably just agree to end the third party deals and nothing of consequence will happen, but if the 1099 status gets challenged because of these restrictions, it could have a major effect on the industry.

Lucha Libre fan goes to Mexico

Professional wrestling, the unique genre that blends action, drama, and athleticism, has been around for decades. The spectacle of the squared circle is quite literally an international language with its storied histories in Mexico, Japan, across the United States, as well as various other places around the globe. Despite business deputes, World Wars, economic downturns, and scandals, the grappling arts has survived to continue to thrill fans over several generations within many different cultures.

But, what has kept the sports entertainment industry around so long?

The physical feats and theatrics that take place inside the ring ropes invoke an emotional reaction and thus an emotional invest from the audience as they watch these larger-than-life warriors battle it out. That emotional investment translates to any language because human natures sees us rally for our favorite stars. If it was Bruno battling Ivan, El Hijo Del Santo squaring off against Los Grinos Locos, or Inoki trying to topple the monstrous Vader, pro wrestling remains an evolving sport that became a stable of pop culture throughout the world.

As far as fandom and how it transcends any boarders or perceived language barriers, there might be no better example than Roy Lucier, a diehard historian of the industry that has become known on social media the past several years for his impressive memorabilia collection. A fan of the business for over 40 years, Roy's home office is plastered with some of the rarest and most sought after items from the sport. While one wall is decorated with framed posters and programs from Mexico, a shelf on the opposing wall serves as a platform for a myriad of Japanese action figures. Speaking of action figures, of the hundreds of items he owns, Lucier considers his complete lucha libre set to be among the favorite part of his collection. The entire Kelian AAA line from the early-90s, considered one of the rarest wrestling figure sets of all time, is lined up in his home, each character in a protective case. The Kelian figure ring, which some were unsure even actually existed, sits on a bookcase, with a row of lucha mask set up above it.

But, despite the international flare that decorates his office, Roy's discover of the business that has consumed much of his life was much closer to home. One afternoon in 1981, a seven-year-old Roy was channel surfacing when he found Sgt. Slaughter's "Cobra Clutch challenge" against Pat Patterson, a violent spectacle that was a very influential moment.

"Seeing one man just beat up another and making him bleed was so amazing, and I immediately became hooked," Roy explained.

Over the next decade throughout the rest of his youth, Lucier devoured as much pro wrestling from as many different sources as possible. However, it was the colorful, aerial, and emotional action of lucha libre that particularly stood out to him. A native of Sacramento, California, Lucier found the concept of Mexican wrestling in the late-80s because of the influx of Hispanic culture in the region, and his subscription to Dave Meltzer's Wrestling Observer newsletter, a publication that delivered international notes before the internet made that type of information more accessible, opened the door to lucha for him even more in 1992. While flipping through Meltzer's printed pages, Roy read about "Lucha Libre Weekly," a newsletter written by Steve Sims, know to readers as "Dr. Lucha."

"I subscribed and was hooked even more, finally knowing the back story to the feuds, the rules, the title holders, and everything else. Not to mention, Steve told me where on my parents satellite dish to watch lucha. The AAA promotion started in May of 1992 so I was able to watch three promotions that year, with AAA, CMLL, and UWA. It was an amazing time to be a fan of lucha," Roy said enthusiastically.

There are key events within professional wrestling history that are considered very important for either the happenings on the card or the influence it would have afterward. Examples are famous and numerous, including The Super J Cup of 1994 that would help influence an entire generation, the AAA "When Worlds Collide" pay-per-view from that same year that introduced the US market to pure lucha libre on a main platform, Wrestlemania 17 that book-ended one of the biggest boom periods in the history of the industry, or Wrestle Kingdom 11, where Okada and Omega broke Meltzer's star-rating system. One such of these event took place in 1996 when New Japan founder, Antoni Inoki ran "The World Peace Festival," a truly all-star event with dozens of top athletes on the card from various promotions, in Los Angeles. Wrestlers from WCW, AAA, New Japan, CMLL, and other groups all competed on the same card. This is the same show that helped Chris Jericho and Rey Mysterio Jr. get noticed by WCW.

Lucier being a true diehard fan, attended the press conference for the event in January of that year. While he knew all about the legacy of Inoki from the newsletters and saw his greatness through the dedicated network of tape traders, he couldn't pass up the chance to see the Japanese icon in person when he found out the conference was also being held in LA. After the official announcement had concluded, Roy talked to organizers, Steve Nakada, Frank Dominguez, and even Inoki himself. Only in his early-20s by this time, Roy was memorized with the New Japan boss, humbly and respectfully discussing his passion for the sport with them. His knowledge and respect made an impression on the trio, and when they wanted some local press to be organized for the upcoming festival, Nakada asked for Luicer to make an appearance on a local radio station to talk about the event.

"For doing that, Inoki gave me front row tickets to the show and also invited me to the hotel afterwards. I'm just happy those photos and memories have survived twenty four years later," he said.

In the time since he stood next to the stoic Inoki over two decades ago, Roy continued his fandom, collecting memorabilia, attending shows, and contributing information online for his fellow fans. When he wasn't stacking VHS tapes or DVDs of obscure footage, he managed to have a successful career outside of the realm of pro wrestling and a successful family life, as he and Mrs. Lucier have a son currently in the air force.

Lucier became such a recognizable face among wrestling circles that he did social media work for the Cauliflower Alley club, a non-profit organization that helps retired stars. Just last year, those in attendance allowed him to hear the admiration for his contributions to the sport that he dedicated himself to, simply to allow others to enjoy the industry as much as he had.

"My most memorable moment would be the 2019 CAC, when Brian Blair asked the crowd to hold the applause, and introduced everyone who worked for the CAC. Well, three tables worth of people didn't listen to Brian, and when I was announced, they all stood up and cheered for me. Considering I've never wrestled, the looks alone on Jerry Lawler's face on who this person was and why he was getting this loud applause is something I'll never forget," Roy commented.

However, it was in March of this year that Roy was able to realize his ultimate dream as a lucha fan with a trip to Mexico to watch authentic lucha libre live. His connections through all of his time around the wrestling circuit set up for a memorable experience, as he attended an event at the world famous Arena Mexico, watched some independent shows, and organized a dinner with Juventud Guerrera, who he met at shows years earlier. Juvi, knowing what a treat it was for Roy to be in Mexico, arranged for him to meet another staple of the golden era of AAA, Heavy Metal.

"Guerrera's wife gave me the phone number to Heavy Metal, so my wife and I had dinner with Metal and his wife and kids the next night. I got him to sign his figures, gave him an extra one, and he signed some programs. After that we went to Super Astros Torta shop and met Mil Mascaras and Canek. Overall we had an amazing time. I can't wait to go back. There are some amazing people I've met over the decades, and continuing friendships with them and talking wrestling has helped me to continue to be a fan 40 years later," Roy said.

When he isn't posting rare content on Twitter, Roy makes it a project to upload as much classic and international footage as possible on Youtube. However, outside of the fact that he has a successful career, none of his online content is monetized because he simply wants to share the sport with others, especially for them to have to chance to see footage that even in the modern age is difficult to find. Perhaps the most striking aspect of Roy's 40 years as a fan is that the action of professional wrestling can bring people together from every generation and background so while the mayhem inside the squared circle might be for pure entertainment, the friendships that are made from it are certainly very authentic.