Monday, November 19, 2007

Fear Me

Cower down, e-fedders. Steven Caldera's coming to get you:

(The camera zooms in on a solitary Steven Caldera. He sits in his dimly lit dressing room, sweat dripping froom his face. He is obviously pumped about tonight.)

Caldera- Tonight is the first ever ACWF event. I'd say that makes tonight rather historical. That means that nobody will be holding anything back tonight. Every ounce of energy from every last superstar on the roster will be expended tonight in an effort to leave their mark forever. The talent and the performances that will be displayed here tonight will be unforgettable. But while everyone else has been trash talking, trying to make themselves look like big men, I've been here, alone, getting ready for war. You have overlooked this unstopable machine, and tonight you will pay. Whatever I end up having to do tonight it will be done to absolute PERFECTION. Because that is what I'm about. Second just isn't good enough. So tonight I begin my path to become the first ACWF Heavyweight Champion. Anyone who thinks they can stop me is welcome to try. But when it's all said and done, and you're looking at the lights listening to my music, you'll have learned what it is like. . . to be beaten by the best.

That was the first roleplay I ever wrote. It was for an e-mail fed called the American Championship Wrestling Federation. The infamous ACWF Match in GCW is a tribute to my roots and the roots of fellow GCW legends Khan, The Jhub, Octavian, Mike Hardy and Khan.

I stumbled upon that thanks to the Wayback Machine today and thought I'd post it for everyone to point and laugh.

If anyone else has their first roleplays still (and I sure hope you do), I'd love to see them. It's funny just how far we've come.

I guess it just goes to show you how valuable this game can be. I went from that to being able to construct intricate storylines and characters and put them together in a compelling narrative. When my novel comes out next year and is flying off the charts, I figure I'll have come full circle. :)

I sure did suck. But in my defense, I did go on to win the World Title at our first PPV, and I've seen first-timers suck worse than that. I was the king of the crappy fedders. :)

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

I'm Number 2!

(Author's Note: If this post is a bit unclear and meandering... well, sorry, I'm on drugs.)

That's right, baby. Who's the number two fedhead of all time? I am.

...According to one guy...

...Who has been in and out of my fed for over seven years...

But hey, I'm gonna gloat anyway!

That said, it got me thinking again about a topic that I have been pondering for some time, but have yet to write about. While I totally disagree with the theory that e-wrestling is somehow in mass decline, I do believe that the position of the fedhead is in decline.

So the topic du jour: What makes a good fedhead?

Now, my statement that the fedhead is in decline isn't a slight to the other fedheads out there, because I think they're top notch. However, there has been some definite turnover lately. PRIME is on its fifth fedhead in as many months, and FUSE recently changed hands, too. I think the hands both feds ended up in are very capable ones, but the fact that, at least until now, there has been a seeming lack of stability at those spots seems to indicate that something is amiss.

Frankly, I think there is a very simple explanation for it: the position of the fedhead is evolving as rapidly as the game itself, and the job is much different now than it used to be. Why? Because of how the people in the game have matured, for the most part. Maybe not matured in terms of personality, but certainly in terms of responsibility and task management. We're all older now, and people don't necessarily need a fedhead looking over their shoulder. They know what they want to write and can do it with minimal supervision. This lessens the focus on the fedhead, and therefore a fed can change leaders multiple times and still come out working just fine, as long as the on-card leadership remains solid, as it has in FUSE and PRIME.

But is the fedhead really less important? I don't think so. At the risk of making this completely self-serving, I think the fedhead remains just as important today as it ever has been, and solid leadership is crucial to having a successful fed.

Want proof? Global has come under a bit of fire lately for the presence of... certain people on their roster, and Global's fedhead James has borne the brunt of it. Yet he's managed to handle those certain people and maintain a functioning fed, so I say props to him. That central leadership is crucial, and all of the successful feds have it.

But the job certainly has changed. Back in 2001 when GCW first opened, my job description certainly was different. Go back and read any edition of Meltdown numbered 1-30, and every word you'll read was written by yours truly. Yep, I did every match, every seg, and came up with almost every idea on those shows. Nowadays members typically come up with their own details, write their own segs, and I only have to write a seg or two and one match per week.

Because of the way the people in the game are now able to act self-sufficiently, the task of the fedhead has shifted from the actual physical construction of a fed to more of a management job. And that makes it far more subtle.

Now, some former GCW members would criticize me for being far too hands-on, and I've answered that with an enthusiastic "yes, I am." Though I'm not writing entire shows any more, I try to be very involved with the production of our events. And that's important to maintaining a high quality show. In fact, a big part of the reason the GCW/PRIME show fell a bit flat is because the fedheads weren't involved enough.

Much has been said about Ron's fedheadding style, but you won't find anyone (other than the most committed Caldera worshippers, who I'm convinced do, in fact, exist) that doesn't respect what he did for the game. Ron is universally heralded as the best fedhead ever to operate, and he's the standard we should all aspire to meet, at least in terms of success if not in persona. But what made him the best exactly? Well, what made him the best is what also made him hated by so many people, and it was his hands-on, dictatorial approach.

Now, I like to think I'm not quite as dictatorial as Ron was, but I certainly have adopted some of those qualities into my style. Again, this has certainly come under fire at times, but I've never wavered from my belief that it is the right way to do things. And if you ask anyone in GCW, I think you'll be hard pressed to find someone who feels I've ever actively prevented them from accomplishing what they want to accomplish.

Commenting on a previous post, Dave once dubbed my style the "hand of God approach." A bit tongue-in-cheek, but accurate. But it's not a matter of perpetuating my own little empire, as I might accuse Ron of doing. A fedhead needs to be aware of what the roster is doing so that they can coordinate those activities. Unless there is a member on the roster who routinely goes insanely above and beyond, the fedhead is the only person in a position to know precisely what everyone is doing at all times.

I haven't always been good at that. I took a very lassiez-faire approach to fedheadding in 2006, and the result wasn't pretty. GCW in 2006 was a fairly dismal place, and a big part of that was the high roster turnover we'd had. I'd brought people in from numerous different backgrounds, and the result was a fed that had several independent factions that vehemently believed their philosophy to fedding was the right one. I tried to fight it for a while, but I ended up taking a step back and attempted to let people simply do it their way.

That sounds fair, but in practice it does not work. A fed cannot be splintered like that. This is not in any way a condemnation of any one way of doing things, merely my firm belief that a fed needs one single direction for people to rally to. GCW got turned around when a lot of those dissenters left and I took back firm control and put my signature back on the fed. And again, that's not sour grapes towards anyone that disagreed with my way of doing things. The simple fact is, a fed needs one identity to be successful, and that identity needs to be embodied in the fedhead.

Ron did that better than anyone. As Pete said himself, there was never any question who was in charge and how things were going to be run. And it's true that this alienated a lot of people, but it also resulted in three of the greatest feds of all time, and carved for Ron a legacy that will last as long as this game does. That's what makes a good fedhead. A fed takes on the personality of its leaders, and the result tends to be a good one. For Global, James is extremely open and willing to give anyone a chance, and the result is a fed that is more accepting and eager than any other in PTC. FUSE is headed up by Dean, who has transformed it into a very welcoming fed with a hot, up-and-coming feel (even though they've already arrived). While I won't presume to label Matt when I don't quite have the background to do so, I do know Lindz, and she seems to emphasize precision, and the result is perhaps the most well-oiled fed around.

As for GCW, I'll leave that to the readers to label.

But the point is, all those feds have strong central leadership and a clear identity to go along with it. And all the best feds in history can be traced back to the people that ran them. Obviously this is not a slight to the people in them, because a fed can only be as good as the roster makes it. It's the members that drive a fed from potentially good to actually great. But the place of the fedhead has perhaps lost some emphasis in the modern incarnation of the game, and it deserves a bit of attention again.

I'm aware that there are a good number of people who disagree with my philosophy, but I think that anyone who still thinks I'm wrong is missing the point. Because the philosophy here isn't that my way is best, but simply that a fed needs to pick a way and go with it. If that means lots of freedom for the roster and just small guidance from the fedhead, that's fine and it can work (see tSC). If that means the total opposite, that can also work. But what those great fedheads Pete listed have in common is the fact that they have a clear philosophy and they're unwavering in their implementation of it.

But don't let me preach to you, oh reader. Please, leave a comment and let us know what qualities you admire in a fedhead, and what your perfect leader would be (assuming, of course, you're not in GCW and don't know that the perfect leader is me).

Monday, November 12, 2007

Me, In a Nutshell

So, a megalomaniac and a sumo wrestler walk into a bar...

I've only written for two characters of consequence in my stay in this game. Granted, during my time as a fedhead I've written for countless more, but the only two I've consistently handled, of my own creation, are Steven Caldera and Kimbusa. And on the surface, it would seem like they're as opposite as can be.

And that's the way it was intended, too. I'd handled Caldera for 2-3 years when I created Kimbusa. Caldera at the time was the same power-mad puppeteer he is today, if on a slightly smaller scale. When I created Kimbusa, I thought I'd try something a little different. So I went from a suit-wearing, manipulative genius to a straight-forward, colossal sumo wrestler.

But, as anyone who has ever read Mick Foley's books will tell you, the best characters are those that closely resemble the person portraying them. And in that way, Caldera and Kimbusa reveal the same aspect of my personality from two different perspectives.

Caldera loves the spotlight, he craves it and thrives in it. Kimbusa actively shies away from it; he hates it with all his being and, in fact, is the only thing preventing him from completely dominating. Caldera is fearless and ruthless; Kimbusa is ruthless but fearful. Caldera, fit, young and handsome, is everything society wants in a man; Kimbusa is everything they fear and despise.

And yet, as the characters have evolved, they've developed some interesting common threads, which were entirely unintentional. Both characters are extremely isolated, cut off from normal human contacts by their intense desires for power. Kimbusa wants the world to see his full potential, but the spotlight continues to push him down. Caldera, in his wild and relentless drive for greatness refuses to allow anyone to get close to him, for fear that anyone might cost him the slightest gain.

Now, I am not a sumo wrestler, nor am I a media billionaire. Caldera is certainly closer to what I aspire to be than Kimbusa. But if Caldera is my outward self, Kimbusa is the personification of what lies beneath.

Why do I confess this here? How does this relate to e-wrestling at large?

Well, it's because I think a large percentage of e-fedders can relate to this. Maybe your characters don't reflect you as precisely as mine do, but I'd wager that there's at least a tiny bit of you in your character. Unlike pro wrestling, e-fedders have absolute control to handle whatever character they want in any way they want. That freedom is telling, and you can probably tell a thing or two about a person by the character they handle.

But the psychology isn't important. The point here is that we all have some connection to our characters. Perhaps you're the sort that changes characters often, constantly looking for that right person to carry on with, but I'd still guess that you could find a common thread in all of them. And that means we all have an investment in this creation of ours, the game we call e-wrestling.

I had a conversation recently with Andrew, handler of Rich Rollins, that was rather telling. He gave me high praise of a match I'd written involving Rollins, pointing out how precisely I'd written the character, and I replied that, having known Rollins almost as long as Andrew has, I feel pretty well equipped to write him. And it's the truth; our characters take on a life of their own, just as Caldera and Kimbusa have evolved almost independently of my conscious influence.

That's why there's still life in this game, because there's a little bit of each and every one of us invested in it. Anyone who handles a character in this game has made that emotional commitment, deposited a little bit of themselves into the community. And that won't go away so easily. The people who didn't make that investment, they're the ones that have gone. But where the numbers have depleted, the truly committed people have risen up and become a majority.

Obviously, this isn't meant to be a jab at anyone who has quit or changed characters. Eventually real life takes precedent and the investment is better spent elsewhere. I'm certainly not trying to claim that this game deserves someone's whole emotional attention. But the point is, it's there. A large percentage of us have a vested interest in what happens to the characters we have created, because there's some part of us tied to that person's fate. In a way, we have created a very real world populated by real people, and it's that world I hope we can begin to illustrate.

As long as that emotional investment is there, this game won't just up and fizzle. True, the enthusiasm might have waned a bit, but that doesn't mean it can't come back. In talking with the majority of the community I find that there is still great passion for the game. It's simply becomes important for us to find new ways of challenging and inspiring one another to continue down exciting new avenues of creativity.

So this game isn't just about a bunch of kids pretending to wrestle on their computers. We have lives, we have responsibilities, and we have diversifying interests. But we also have little bits of ourselves still active in this game, and regardless of what you might think of the game, that fact makes it clear that this game will continue as long as we want it to.

Thursday, November 8, 2007

An Eye to the Future

As has become custom, this post is mostly made in response to someone else's. Pete wrote a clarification on his post yesterday in an attempt to explain his thinking.

But my approach here isn't really one of debate, but more one of personal revelation. I feel that, if I am to be one of the leaders of a new movement in e-wrestling, people should be fully aware of my motivations and my thinking. So consider this the bearing of my e-wrestling soul.

Pete and I have developed what I feel to be a very constructive dialogue in our dueling blogs of late. I'm most happy that it turned out this way because Pete and I have worked together for a long time, and we've always challenged each other on our ideas and theories as they pertain to this game (as well as cooking and boobs, on which Pete is an authority). But of late, something has troubled me about Pete, and perhaps about a small portion of the e-wrestling community.

I've made no secret of the fact that my time in this game is nearing its end. I'm certainly not planning on leaving any time in the immediate future, but I am finally nearing graduation at Ohio State and when I get that degree, I hope to focus all my energy on a career. While I haven't advertised this for obvious reasons, I've always been honest about it to people who ask. It's not for lack of love for this game, but simply the fact that I feel I've taken a lot from this game and I can now seriously look at turning that knowledge into a profitable writing career. Yeah, I'll retire, but I'll always carry this game with me on some level, because it's made me better at what I do. And when I get my first book published, you can bet you'll see a note on the title page that reads "Ryan Murray can kiss my ass."

And yes, the game is waning, people are leaving and moving on and there is no new blood flowing in with the loss of interest in pro wrestling. But this is my source of concern as it pertains to Pete, PTC and anyone that shares his opinions: they are hopelessly pessimistic.

I'm not picking on Pete because his ideas are definitely rooted in sound logic. He's not just trying to bring down the game out of mere grumpiness. But I cannot continue to participate in this game with that attitude ruling my actions. It is true that my time in this game is limited, but why should that mean the game has to disappear when I leave? When I close my eyes, the world does not disappear. Just because I'm gone doesn't mean I shouldn't assume this game won't last forever.

My mind has admittedly begun to turn to other projects. I've got an idea for a novel I'd love to start working on, I'm exploring the possibility of a career in sports journalism, and I'm really committed to the work I do for school. Because the e-wrestling community in general has aged, I think a lot of us are beginning to look at those same sorts of goals and it's drawing us away from the game. I won't argue with anyone who looks at the situation and comes to the conclusion that the future for the game is bleak, because that's a fair assessment.

But I would also say this to you: get out. And I don't mean that maliciously or in a hateful spirit, but it's more of a challenge. If you think the game is dead in a year, and you find the state of the game quite bleak, what's the point? What are any of us working for if it's utterly futile? If you're just sitting around waiting for the game to fade away, go find something that inspires you a bit more.

But for me, e-wrestling still inspires me and the people in this game still inspire me. They inspire me to keep working hard with an eye to a limitless future. Will the game be dead in a year? Sure, it's possible. But I won't operate under that assumption. I'm going to continue to do what I do under the assumption that this game can still go on for as long as we choose to do it.

This, again, is why I remain critical of the situation in PTC and highly motivated to create something new. There are still people in this community who are very excited about the prospects for the future, and we are doing something about it. Unfortunately, some of our community leaders continue to spout this message of doom and gloom. Again, this isn't a personal attack on Pete or anyone else, because I know exactly where they're coming from. But I would suggest that anyone in this game who isn't interested in innovating and planning for a long and prosperous future should consider stepping aside to let someone new try their hand.

Pete likes statistics, so I'll offer some of my own. If four years ago the PTC/WO portion of the game contained, say, 1000 active members, maybe 50 of those were extremely talented, giving you about 5% big contributors. If today those numbers are closer to 100 but you've got 60 great contributors, that's 60% great talent. Perhaps the numbers have dwindled, but what the game lacks in breadth it makes up for in depth. This community has never been more talented nor more committed. That, to me, is cause for tremendous optimism.

Yes, interest in the game is much reduced, and it's odd to find so many people in the game comment that they really don't care for wrestling much at all. But look at this in its simplest terms: we have a community of about 100 writers, many of which are good, several of which are very good, and a handful of which are ridiculously good. Right now you could take the lowest person on any roster in PTC and pit them against the best writer of 5 years ago and have a pretty good matchup. The quantity of this game is way down, but the quality of work is vastly improved.

Which brings me back to the GCW/PRIME show. Yeah, its quality was low, and yeah, 100% of all interfed shows have sucked. But you know what? I don't care. I don't care at all, and nobody that was involved with it cares. Because it was a sign of life. If you look at it not as a show but as a declaration from a group of people, you'd see it as a loud and proud statement that there are those of us that are looking to the future of the game. Though our time in the game may be limited we are not going to operate like it is; what's the point in going through the motions until it's time to leave? Why can't we build up a grand crescendo and go out with a bang rather than a whimper?

I fully believe there is a foundation for this game for a few more years to come. Hell, it'll never fully die, even if it's only carried on in Geocities feds until wrestling rises again (and it will). But there is still passion for this game. And there are still a solid number of talented writers and hard workers ready and willing to keep things going. So while I cannot argue with the logic that the game is in dire straits, I will absolutely, vehemently argue that unapologetic pessimism has no place in this game right now. It serves no purpose other than to remind people of what they already know and accomplishes absolutely nothing.

So I'm going to continue planning big things for this game, because people out there want something new. And something new is coming. I may only have a year left in the game, but why should that be anything less than my best effort? Why can't I have high ambitions to accomplish more in this year than in any year prior? And why can't the same go for everyone else?

This blog is meant to construct and create dialogue. My entire presence in this game right now is dedicated to creating an amazing fed experience for everyone in GCW, and to utilize GCW to create an amazing experience for everyone else. The GCW/PRIME show might not have created a great show for onlookers to read, but it did something for the members of both feds. It sparked a new interest, it proved that the possibilities for this game are limitless and there's a reason to continue on. And you know what? If every interfed show to come after this one sucks, I still won't care, because at least we're putting ourselves out there trying to accomplish something, rather than sitting around lamenting the game that could have been.

I respect the hell out of everyone who's stuck with this game and worked hard over the years. Pete most of all. But anyone who is simply hanging around and waiting for the end needs to take a good hard look at what they're doing in this game. There is huge enthusiasm out there still, and that's why you're finding so many defenders of the show. They don't want to hear people say the show was bad, because they want everyone to know that that's not why they did it. We didn't make this show to make a great show (well, we did, and we will, but that's not the point). We made this show because of what it symbolizes; a new beginning for a game that had nothing new to tout for a long time.

Yeah, I've only got a year left in this game. But if you think I'm going to simply half-ass it until then with no concern for the state of the game after I leave, you're dead wrong. Perhaps I will fail miserably, and perhaps I'm overestimating the resolve of the people in this game. I guess we'll find out. But if there is even the slightest capacity left in this game for innovation and tremendous fun, I'll do whatever it takes to squeeze that out. I'm not alone in this. I talk to a number of people every day about the subject, and I know there are more out there. But this is more an extension of my own personality than anything else; there's nothing worth doing that isn't worth doing 110%. If this game isn't worth someone's full energy and excitement, that's fine. That doesn't mean you shouldn't continue to play as long as you get some enjoyment out of it. But if you're not interested in giving it your all, I think it's not unreasonable to ask that you not impede the progress of those who are trying their damnedest to make something happen.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Review of DN/GAN

A topic of great discussion now has greater fuel, and the move to a new beginning has taken its first step. Devil's Night/Great American Nightmare, the first interpromotional card of its kind, is on the air, and already it's causing some controversy.

You can read the controversy here.

Now again, I respect Pete and his opinion, but expect this post to be far less civil. Because I feel that a lot of the feedback coming from this event is wildly off base, because it's missing the point of what we were trying to accomplish with it. Did it have its shortcomings? Yes, and some were rather glaring. But in the end you can only gauge the success of a project based on your expectations going in, and from that perspective I view this event as a tremendous success.

As I posted the show late last night and have been in class since, I haven't had a chance to read through the entire show, so this won't be a segment by segment analysis. However, in assembling the show I did get a chance to look most of it over, and I've managed to get a good read on how it came out.

Now, a big criticism thus far (from multiple sources) is that the efforts of the two feds did not connect very well, making the whole event rather disjointed. My response is: what did you expect? Did you expect two feds of relative strangers, who have different styles and have never worked together before, to suddenly mesh together and create a totally fluid experience? I certainly did not, and I don't think the people involved did, either. The purpose of this event was A) to explore the logistics of creating such a show, and B) to bring people together for a fling at something totally new. This show was intended to blaze new ground and show the e-wrestling world that there's a reason to stay tuned, because the game is not sitting idle.

I was pleased with the five interfed matches that we booked and executed, but their true effect took place on a level an outside cannot fully appreciate. The purpose of this show, again, was to bring people together, and simply by virtue of having those matches we succeeded. I continued to work with Joe, Adam and Al got together, Andy and Kris worked a match, JJ and Darryl paired up, and John and Billy put on a great show. Granted, some of the actual matches didn't come out in perfect form. But how could they have? To expect greatness out of something that's never been done before is completely unfair.

Perfection and greatness is precisely what we're striving for. And I've got no doubt we'll get there eventually. But anyone who opened that show assuming that's what they were going to get, well, you deserve to be let down because you were fooling yourself.

I'm not writing this in defense of mediocrity, but rather in defense of the dozens of people who worked to make this show possible, and worked very hard. I agree that it was disjointed and did not have a great overall flow. But that is to be expected when throwing together two unique groups of people with minimal supervision and ask them to write a show. In that respect the people who should shoulder the blame most are myself and Lindz and Matt of PRIME for not fine-tuning things more. The honest truth is that, with another three days, we could have done a lot to tinker with the show and smooth out the wrinkles. But we have schedules to keep, and besides, the people involved had a good time doing it.

And in the end, isn't that the big picture truth? For the vast majority of people in GCW and PRIME, this show was downright fun, and I know that working with the PRIME roster was one of the most enjoyable and unique experiences of my career. You don't like our show? Well, that's fine, because we enjoyed making it.

But I digress.

Let's analyze the first goal, figuring out how to structurally create such a thing. This entails the very basics of the event, including how to get everything into two backstage scripts, how to sort everything out and combine two feds' shows into one. This is not something that has precedent, not something that we can turn to a wise old man and ask for guidance on. And frankly, the sheer chaos that emerges from having to concoct such a system on the fly caused some issues. In retrospect, we probably should have hammered out the details and gone over them with the rosters weeks in advance. But now we've learned.

The second goal was bringing people together, and in large part we did. There were some people on both sides who still disliked the very concept of working an interpromotional show, but the entire event was structured such that anyone who didn't want to participate in the interfed portion didn't have to. Some criticized the decision to only have a handful of interfed matches, but internally this allowed us to include everyone and leave the option there for people who wanted to cross borders. And quite a few people answered the call. What you can't tell judging from this show is that people who weren't necessarily in competition came out of their own little niches to speak to others, and we succeeded in building a bridge that did not exist before. The contrast in styles made things look ugly and there were a lot of glaring omissions, but now we know that we need at least a day after everything's in to read through and smooth it out and add the necessary content. But now we've learned.

To be quite honest, the actual, physical show itself is only a small portion of this entire project. There are so many more intangible aspects to this event that can't be seen from reading it, and only time will reveal them to the rest of the community.

Again, the criticisms of the show itself are well deserved. The confusion inherent to such a new venture caused two shows that likely would have been great independently to end up less than stellar. It was disjointed and much of what one would expect from such an event was missing, and in that respect the event itself certainly fails to live up to one's expectations.

But when you consider all the steps that went into making this show a reality, what happened at DN/GAN was really very impressive to me. You had two rosters of twenty-something people coming together, taking initiative and working together for the first time. Is that in itself not worthy of applause?

While I've lamented the fact that Lindz, Matt and myself perhaps weren't as hands-on as we should have been, this does exhibit perhaps the greatest triumph of the show. The fact that we didn't NEED to micromanage the whole event, the fact that we didn't NEED to spell things out to everyone is an amazing thing. The fact that both rosters were able to step up and open the lines of communication for themselves, to answer the call and throw themselves into such a project is a great sign for the future. And though there are still some valid criticisms coming from some people internally that wanted things done differently, that's the whole bloody point; we're learning, and GCW and PRIME were fully willing to take the extra time and effort to do something totally unique.

This show marks a great new moment in e-wrestling history, and I'm extremely pleased about that. With regards to our structural and interpromotional goals, Devil's Night/Great American Nightmare was a runaway success. Consider how bad it could have been: members of both feds could have argued their stylistic differences and driven the show into the ground; a majority of both rosters could have ignored the presence of the other altogether, refusing to bridge the gap; the show could have taken weeks to assemble with two feds trying to connect two sets of writers. There are a million ways in which this show could have utterly failed, but none of them happened. The rosters stepped up and have announced to the community that they believe in this project and are willing to do what it takes to make it work. I call that a success.

So yeah, I agree that the show fell far short of its full potential. With the sheer talent in both feds the potential for greatness is high, and I understand someone wanting that from such a show. But the PTC interfed is dead, leaving the feds to fend for themselves, and what this represents is a world in which an interfed is not needed to create unity between feds. GCW and PRIME, for one night, came together as one with hardly any pushing needed.

What's more, we've all learned some great lessons from this experience. We know now how to improve for next time, and the next show will be better. Will the next one be perfect? I certainly don't expect it to be. But it will be better, because we can take the wealth of knowledge earned from having blazed this trail and apply it to the future. The unknowns were many and the potential for failure was great, but everything came together and worked. What the show lacks in quality it more than makes up for in sheer gumption.

I understand that a good portion of the community at large might not be able to appreciate the event as it stands, because the true success of this show was on a very personal level. But I would like to personally thank each and every person that wrote even a single word for this event, that opened up their mind to a new experience and stood up and introduced themselves to a new group of people. I am so pleased to have had this experience with PRIME. I am looking forward to having the same experience with FUSE.

Frankly, had this show been perfect right off the bat, I'd have been disappointed, because nothing worth doing should be that easy. If we really want to innovate, if we truly want to push this game forward, that means taking on difficult challenges and taking our lumps as we go. The fact that there is so much more to do, that there is so much more to learn and so much potential for the future tells me that these interfed shows are worth doing, and will provide a great amount of excitement for the future.

So hate the show if you want to, I won't really blame you. But what you simply cannot hate is this show's contribution to the e-wrestling community, because this event was a very good thing.