The Long, Hard Goodbye To The Attitude Era

There is a phenomenal group of crazies lurking through the world these days, covering their tracks with the pepper of the internet and preserving their anonymity through the gross mystique of message boards and blog sites.

These jackals pride themselves on pretense and pun, but forgo punctuation and spelling for the sake of sarcasm, forming insatiable bonds with their like-minded brood, while scourging those who oppose. What they lack in substance, they more than make up for with a grossly exaggerated view of themselves. You will find them at every turn, with every URL clicked "go" on your internet browser. You must beware.

More and more I find myself on the run from these crazies, like the unfortunate Season Hubley in Escape From New York (Don't go into the Choc Full Of Nuts!). But in wrestling, it's hard to avoid these kind. They find you and preach the same critical nonsense about the state of current affairs in WWE. They repeat the same phrase, Attitude Era, as if they were Darwin preaching evolution for the first time. Imposters.

True it was a phenomenal era. A brilliant era. A time when it was expected to be as much a fan of wrestling as it was Star Wars or Jerry Springer. NWO shirts and crotch chops became part of the culture. Even bowlers were emulating it. And disgruntled employees found certain solace in giving the middle finger to their boss, thanks to Steve Austin.

McMahon revived wrestling by pushing the envelope in a time when everyone pushing back might as well have been the poor saps trying to corral John Rambo. And he did it through a three pronged rotation of a feud with Austin, Degeneration X, and Divas stripping to near nothing. They fueled the resurgence between 1998 and 2001.

It wasn't so much the wrestling that was noteworthy but what WWE surrounded it with. Increased violence, sexuality. Whatever they could get away with by hanging the TV14 logo in the corner of the screen.

The Hardy Boys became poster children and ambassadors to the next generation of kids who were inspired to leap from ladders and balconies. The same for Mick Foley, whose fall from the top of the Hell In A Cell became the snapshot image of breathtaking and sacrificial.

Sable, Debra, Trish. How far could a good tease go each week with bikini contests, bra and panty matches, and mud wrestling?

The teenage super hormone experience.

It was the hallmark of the late 90's. An America at relative international ease. A post-grunge culture that began craving less classically defined white knights in exchange for antiheroes. Even a presidency less defined by actual policy and more by under the table fellatio.

But then the new millennium came, and everything changed.

It is no incredible coincidence that a conservative White House and 9/11 uprooted a passive American feeling and made everyone sober up from the drunken complacency of the 90's.

It was also the same year that WCW folded after a determined effort to reach new lows in the wrestling business. The epic Monday Night Wars were over. McMahon had bested his competition, and in turn cast aside nearly all of the talent he had purchased.

And then a slow gripping fact became too evident to deny any longer: the Attitude Era was over. Within five years, John Cena was elevated to the front man, the face of WWE. Not long after that, the TV14 logo dissolved into PG. Profanity, violence, blood, sexuality, all extinguished. Even Austin's hand gestures so prominent in yesteryear were camouflaged by blurred editing.

Nothing but blasphemy explodes from the crazies on this point. They seal themselves away in their own bomb shelters and take endless amounts of LSD in the form of classic wrestling DVDs and live in a vacuum of the Attitude Era and the eras previous.

When not stuck in their own drug induced stupor, they return to their primary mission of marauding any fan discussion of the most recent Monday Night RAW with dismissive Attitude Era references.

But the fact remains that WWE has completely pulled away from that direction and mentality, as further evidenced by their corporate website, which so proudly states that their programming is "suitable for all ages." Sponsorships with K-Mart and Mattell, issues stances such as stopping bullying with children and even a proud partnership with the Make A Wish foundation.

This course of action is not so easy for McMahon to deviat from, now with a steady lull in television ratings and stock profits not so bullish. This even fuels the reluctance to turn the very stale Cena character heel because of the alienation of the very fan base McMahon has pulled into his WWE Universe and desperately clings too.

But this is all obvious and clear on the surface. It's the ripple effects of that era years ago that today are sad reminders of what once was and cannot be again.

The great elephant in the room of WWE discussion: Chris Benoit. WWE practically wiped his existence away after the tragic events of 2007. What Benoit's murder-suicide unearthed was not only once again the steroid issue in professional wrestling but further put under the microscope the violent aspects of the business day in and day out on the wrestlers.

Benoit's style was as vicious and rabid as his monicker once proclaimed. Chair shots, high risk impact blows to the head. These were staples of not only Benoit but so many wrestlers in the Attitude Era, which undeniably fed the popularity of wrestling. But Benoit's death brought a scary reality to the effects of such in-ring offense and created a chain reaction of wrestling prohibition all the way down to the extinction of the classic wrestling pile driver.

On another level of tragedy is the continued downfall of the Hardy Boys. Which brother has fallen further is a debatable subject of sibling failure, but equally their personal troubles in the area of substance abuse can be linked to the post traumatic effects of the aforementioned "caution to the wind" style they adopted in the Attitude Era.

There is a scene from Easy Rider when a dejected Peter Fonda utters the line "we blew it." Film critics pointed to this as a failure of the 60's movement, as did Hunter S. Thompson in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream. Although a surreal, tripping experience, the journey proves to illustrate how the generation succumbed to substance abuse over change and revolution. Did McMahon feel the same way when the tragedies of the Attitude Era became fence posts of criticism for his wrestling product?

Nevertheless, he still found ways to tap into the popularity of the Attitude Era. Most recently, he has built a program around The Rock and Cena, which stands to be an epic, mega main event at the upcoming Wrestlemania. The blatant undercurrent is Rock representing the Attitude Era and what it stood for and Cena representing the PG era of WWE. Ten years ago was the same scenario when Hulk Hogan represented the golden era of professional wrestling against the younger Rock at the time, whose victory was viewed as a passing of the torch of one generation to another. The Rock will more than likely do the same job for Cena, as Hogan did for him before, which will tie the final loose end of the Attitude Era. Just like the mortally wounded Shane riding off into the sunset.

The crazies will find this jobbing absurd and further lock themselves away from WWE, possibly even take the cyanide pill that is TNA Impact, which will leave the rest of us with DVRs set for 9pm on Mondays and reserved seats at sports bars on pay per view Sundays.

We'll watch the the matches, listen to the promos and anticipate the story lines. And that is when a cruel reality settles in and we'll realize that the plastic surgery we administer on our sagging, wrestling faces can no longer hold what lies beneath:

We are the crazies.

Because deep down we are the ones who want the Attitude Era back. We miss the middle fingers. We miss the weekly teases. We miss an adult oriented WWE product. We see Hornswoggle and Santino and shake our heads. We roll our eyes at Cena and mock his five moves of doom. The best we get is the Pipebomber of Promo, CM Punk. There's a reminescence there. A nostalgia factor. A throwback to when WWE had, well, attitude. He's not Austin. He's his own man. But it gives us a similar reason to watch as it did long ago.

But in the end, the Attitude Era is like Mary Astor in The Maltese Falcon, and we're all Sam Spade forced to accept reality and move on with our lives, living with cold showers of McMahon's PG era to get by day to day.

As much as we want her to come back, we know we can never have her again.

Who blew it?

We blew it.

Because us, crazies, thought it could never end and won't let go of the thought that it will come around again.

Maybe the biggest reason we can't let go is because of the tragic, inevitable conclusion none of us have come to accept: that we are getting old. And that wrestling might have passed us by.

The long, hard goodbye to the Attitude Era...

"Myths and legends die hard in America. We have them for the extra dimension they provide, the illusion of near-infinite possibility to erase the narrow confines of most men's reality. Weird heroes and mould-breaking champions exist as living proof to those who need it, that the tyranny of 'the rat race' is not yet final." - H.S.T.

The Great RAW Experience From Section 118

My voyage to the Colonial Life arena is like a trek through a vicious tempest right out of Shakespeare with Vince McMahon playing the role of Prospero.

The sinister local parking agents have thwarted all direct entry points with charges of five dollars per vehicle. Swine. They display University of South Carolina enignias. Not helping your cause, sirs. I'm still paying off the next ten years of my life to that god damned place. No way in hell will they swindle another another payment from me on this night.

Familiarity with the area guides me to the campus area of Drayton Hall. I've performed at Drayton. The seats need WD40, and the heater long ago hit the skids. Ironically, I park next to my lady friend who has to work sound for the dance show going on. The set designer is her inept, perverted professor who so kindly makes comments like "baby, please." He passively coerced her participation in the show by hanging twenty five percent of her grade over her head. Swine.

It's a mild deluge on the way to the arena, and the crowds gather outside of each exit, ready to take McMahon's black acid on their tongue. Southern gentlemen detoured from entrance are turned into redneck piranhas, chomping anyone who appears to cut in line. It's a mad scene.

Children displaying shirts of John Cena are greeted with discerning stares and antagonizing phrases so clearly put as "Cena sucks!" Their faces of concern reflect the current discention gripping WWE. The older generation never wants to leave 1998 behind. The new generation just wants Cena. The poor buggers don't know any better. I probably felt the same way when an Earthquake fan lunged at me and my Hulkamania bandana...

The slow entrance into the arena cannot move fast enough for the commentators behind me, who carry an unmistakable audio comparison to characters out of Gator. They debate the shortcomings of Carolina basketball along with the arena quality of an Usher show. Renaissance men.

We are finally allowed entrance an hour before scheduled start time. I pick up on a gentleman's elaborate ruse to convince his wife they are attending a basketball game. The displayed memorabilia and attire of 99% of the people attending does crash the allusion. She demands to see the tickets. He refuses. I am eventually questioned in this matter, to which I deliver a dead pan delivery that the Globetrotters are in town. Her reaction is genuine delight. Must be a Washington Generals fan.

With all WWE shows that are televised, you get your full ticket price with a series of dark matches or matches recorded for other shows. Tonight, we are treated to the Scotsman Drew McIntyre and Alex Riley, a seven minute yawn fest. Mcintyre's stock has been on a consistent decline over the last year, and Riley is a forced face with little charisma in his current incarnation. He was better served as the Miz's emissary. No shock that he goes over on McIntyre, though it is sadly forgettable.

The two matches for the Superstars show are mostly crowd pleasers, especially when you throw Santino into a match against JTG, whose employment I doubted until I heard his name called. Still having the same gimmick it appears. A chant for him begins, though, from the drunken rows of frat boys who proudly display various jerseys of merit such as Roy Williams from his Dallas days and Allen Iverson from his ill-fated tenure with Detroit.

This Santino gimmick continues to be a sad, sad sight. Such a talented wrestler relegated to a comical punch as his finisher. If anyone needed to drop a timely shoot promo, it's him.

The other Superstars match proves to be an unexpected twenty minute epic between Kofi Kingston and Primo (yet another guy surprisingly employed). An acrobatic affair filled with the usual Kofi "boom" spots but entertaining nonetheless with an unexpected ending that has Primo going over clean. Even the look on Primo's face indicated how surprised he was, as if Kofi felt bad for the poor yokel and changed the finish at the last minute...

In the brief interim before the real spectacle begins, people hustle for last minute buckets of fries and tall boys of Bud Light. The frat row has exploited this ten-fold. Danger, danger. People who try to walk by, politely prefacing "excuse me" are returned scornful looks of disgust by seated individuals who have their view of the empty ring momentarily eclipsed. Savages.

The opening of the RAW show is a great throwback with Rowdy Roddy Piper's entrance and subsequent Piper's Pit segment. He calls John Cena to the ring and invokes a psychological exercise to bring Cena's contempt for the growing antagonism from the audience to the surface. Cena, however, refuses to play ball despite a slap on the face from Piper. Perhaps this is finally the beginning of the long anticipated heel turn we have all hoped for. Faustus had to eventually pay his due to the devil. Cena owes his turn to McMahon...

Leading into the show,a rumor that caught fire throughout the internet wilderness was that John Morrison was leaving the company, apparently disgruntled with mediocrity. If it is indeed the case, the crowd prepares for a grandiose swan song, anticipating Morrison to tear the house down with every page of his repertoire; maybe even exit to a thunderous "thank you, Morrison" chant.

His match is announced as Falls Count Anywhere, further proof that a five star match is coming. Morrison is introduced first. Unfortunately, witnessing the entrance in person deprives us of the slow motion effect when Morrison poses on the stage. Morrison walks all of five feet before he is attacked from behind by the Miz with a pipe. Mix zeroes in on Morrison's ankle with a savage, rabid beating. A deja vu to when Morrison was attacked by R. Truth this summer.

Unlike that incident, Morrison shrugs aside medical assistance and limps toward the ring to face the Miz. A galant effort that still indicates hope for one last gutsy Morrison match...

Not the case.

Although he manages a couple of small bursts of offense, Miz decimates Morrison and finishes him off with a Skull Crushing Finale on the ramp. Morrison is carted off on a stretcher. Miz grabs his trademark microphone and cuts a promo right out Jericho's playbook. In fact his monotone stare and slow delivery is reminiscent of John Lithgow from the film Ricochet.

So this is the end for Morrison in one way shape or form. Whether it's some kind of sabbatical or straight exit from the company, his last image on RAW for now is a no-chance beat down with a pipe. Thank you, Morrison?...

The rest of the show settles into the typical RAW pattern of yawning Divas matches and overly long promo segments involving uncharismatic individuals. Although, to his credit, Daniel Bryan navigated through his segment with Michael Cole fairly well along with Mark Henry's interruption. Can't help but think a Bryan heel turn would be a great result of this storyline.

Match of the night honors once again go to a Dolph Ziggler-involved match. Last week, it was his match with CM Punk that hit five stars. This week, it's with Randy Orton. Of course with Wade Barrett hanging out a ringside, we all know what's coming, and inevitably he distracts Orton enough to allow Ziggler to score with the Zig Zag for the pin. His celebration takes a curious route with a lengthened handstand at ringside. If only his mic skills were a little more on par with the likes of Punk and Miz. Amazing skill set, though.

During this match, not only does my lady friend make it to the arena from that sham dance show, but it also brings to a close a vicious Cold War struggle with the child occupying her seat beside me. We have been jostling for control of the arm rest for well over an hour, which I have been more than generous in giving 50% of control over. But my appeasement is not enough for this fiery chap as he presses forward for total control. No sir.

Main event, Punk and Del Rio. Return match from the previous pay per view. Laurinaitis puts in the stipulation that Punk can lose the belt via disqualification. How long will we have to wait before Punk and Laurinaitis wind up in the ring? They're just dusting off the playbook from Austin/McMahon circa '98.

The match itself is pretty steady, including the usual spots for each wrestler. Unfortunately, there is just an incredible lack of chemistry between these two guys every time they have a match. You'll just see these spots that look rough and ill-conceived. Del Rio just looks rough, and maybe it still involves conforming to the WWE style. But his one dimensionality as a character is accurately criticized by Punk as boring.

The finish comes with Punk pulling an Eddie Guerrero and feigning a chair shot from Del Rio which provokes a vicious interrogation from the referee, but ultimately allows Punk to hit a Snake Eyes version of the GTS. Punk retains. All is well in the WWE Universe for another week...

The Columbia crowd gets a post-RAW broadcast treat involving Big Show and Mark Henry in a World Title match, except it evolves into a six man tag match with Show, Punk, and Cena against Henry, Del Rio, and Miz. Of course Henry bows out quickly; gassed, angry, and craving a bologna sandwich. Punk and Cena get the win with a snapshot image of them hitting their finishers at the same time.

Booker T, special referee for the affair, then demands a spinaroonie-off between Punk and Cena, which Cena, for all his witty sarcasm during promos, won't allow himself to made a fool of doing a spinaroonie and promptly refuses participation. Punk is a good sport and allows himself to look foolish doing a terrible roll instead. Miz returns to participate and does a spot-on impression of Booker T, but ends up getting the Attitude Adjustment and GTS.

It's a comical scene to end the night, and the crowds leave with a good taste in their mouth. But what's more impressive to see is how Punk takes every possible moment to greet the fans at ringside, well after the masses are heading for the exit. For a wrestler known almost more for his controversial comments in and out of the ring, his commitment to the fans as champion is strong and very present. Not unlike Cena, who to his credit, has walked that walk for years. But Punk's appeal is more universal and comes from a more identifiable place in 2011.

Plenty of internet jesters will continue to mock the path that WWE is on and has been for the last ten years. These same jesters with their infectious tongues are content continuing to see wrestling through the eyes of the Attitude Era that long ago ended.

But culture has changed and so has wrestling's popularity. Will their be a resurgence again? Absolutely. But in the meantime, what makes being around wrestling today so interesting, is how in these lull times, it allows the wafer fans to exit stage left and the die-hards to stick around. A lot like Carolina football. Lovable losers at times. But a fan base that does not show distinction in commitment, whether in the penthouse of success or the cellar of defeat.

John Skyler's Insatiable Quest For Hatred And Respect

John Skyler (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

In the midst of my interview with wrestling legend The Barbarian, I catch out of the corner of my eye a gent in a button-up green flannel and a pair of jeans. He wears a broken-in Country Strong ball cap with it's brim bent in almost a perfect upside down u-shape.

John Skyler is operating on maybe five hours of sleep in the last 48 hours, but he doesn't make a peep about it. Instead he does what he does best, what has made him one of the most talked about wrestlers in the southeast: he listens and observes.

I part ways with Barbarian, and turn my attention to the seated Skyler. A fresh beard blankets his face; another casualty of the No Shave November movement sweeping the nation. I've heard previous radio interviews done with Skyler in the past. Useless drivel. Unless someone has been on television with that blasphemous mutated WWE logo in the bottom left corner, they don't know what to say. Their minds are stunted by a constant addiction to the national wrestling scene; like children scarfing down candy as their only source of nutrition.

The true meat and potatoes of professional wrestling lies in the independent scene that stretches coast to coast through the gymnasiums and National Guard armories. If this scene was a Wild West metaphor, Skyler would be Billy the Kid.

Before he donned the stage name John Skyler, John Brumbaugh (real name) began his wrestling training in March 2008 under the tutelage of wrestling veteran Bob Keller. His first meeting with Keller was actually as a fifth grader in 1998, but as a novice wrestler looking to learn the trade, it was Reginald Vanderhoff who brought Brumbaugh to Keller's attention ten years later.

Brumbaugh's training continued throughout the summer of 2008, but the show that fell on July 6th proved to be a fateful experience. As Brumbaugh recalls, it was in Big Bear Lake, West Virginia, and he found himself confined to grunt work, constructing and deconstructing the ring while also hawking merchandise at Keller's table.

In between making sales for Taka Michinoku and Ahmed Johnson bend-em figures, Keller asked Brumbaugh if he was nervous. Sensing a good rib, Brumbaugh asked why. A dead serious Keller revealed that he was wrestling third on the card that night against Bill Bain. (The monosyllabic alliteration lends me to imagine Bain as Big John Studd in the film Harley Davidson And The Marlboro Man.)

Not having any gear to change into, Brumbaugh relied on the patchwork donations of the other wrestlers to look presentable for his debut match. His nerves ran high, but the match, itself, was thankfully a straightforward jaunt: Bain squashed Brumbaugh inside of three minutes.

His trial by fire was a success, and to this day, Brumbaugh remembers all of the nerves he felt that night. But most importantly, it was the night his metamorphosis was complete. John Skyler was born to the wrestling world...

Three yeas later, the seasoned Skyler has continued his travels throughout the Carolinas all the way up to West Virginia, where it all began, and as far west as Las Vegas. In fact it is West Virginia where Skyler has burned the midnight oil from to attend tonight. His tank is running on empty, but his stories refueled laps ago.

Skyler is fashioned as a heel in the majority of the shows he is booked. He has a particular knack for upsetting the crowd, especially this year while embroiled in a feud with his mentor, Keller, which ended in Skyler retiring him as a result of a match.

Now, he proudly wears a "I Retired Bob Keller" when he makes an entrance to the ring, which produces a venomous reaction from the Lowcountry crowd that OSCW entertains each show. The pigtails in his hair and the flirtation with ambiguous homosexuality with former WCW star Lodi in the match tonight incited the Goose Creek youth to spat chants of "You are gay!" A sad byproduct of a show designed to be a benefit for a medically impaired coach, revered by the local community.

But as Brumbaugh, the man behind the maleovant Skyler, the success of his character lies in the dichotomy between actor and wrestler. Skyler maintains strict kayfabe at all times and believes heavily in the old school rules of the business. When someone approaches him and asks if he really is an asshole in real life, he replies with spit and a dismissal. But when Brumbaugh is told by fans or his peers how his match was a standout of the night and awe-inspiring, he is humbled and appreciative, like a Broadway star stepping out of the stage door onto Jane Street in New York, flooded by appreciative theatre fanatics.

The comparisons to Shawn Michaels humble Brumbaugh the most. Michaels, after all, was the idol that inspired him into the business in the first place. There's even a slight resemblance to HBK, but it is more so in the confidence he projects even in humility. There seems little doubt in his words that in five years he will be on television in some role as a wrestler.

The long nights on the road away far from home is a trope of the wrestling business right out of a Bob Seger song, and it no doubt takes it toll on the men and women who frequent it. However, the end result, the reaction of the crowd, more than outweighs the hardships. Such as was the case when Brumbaugh competed in a tag match with BJBrumbaugh, and it still does, spurning him to put on that high quality of a match each and every show.

A future in wrestling is an uncertain abyss full of barracudas in the forms of swine promoters and shooting muscle heads, but Brumbaugh maintains just enough insanity to stay ahead of the danger. An interjection by Barbarian and Mike Griffie (Barb's manager) indicates a possible future venture for Brumbaugh. The location and the event unknown. Perhaps it is a secret mission to rescue Meng or Warlord from a Gulag. My attempts at surveillance are thwarted by my immediate presence in the conversation. I will stick by my hypothesis for now.

However, for Brumbaugh, it is another adventure in this mad, mad world of wrestling and another addition to an already burgeoning resume that also includes training with Japanese stars CIMA, Akira Tozawa, and Naruki Doi at Dragon Gate USA. It is also further accreditation that Brumbaugh is an exceptional student of the business.

In a way, it is Aristotelian. Brumbaugh is what he repeatedly demonstrates. Therefore, dedication is not merely accident but habit.

And His Name Was Barbarian...

The Barbarian (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

As a boy growing up, there were three sacred wrestling tapes that would make the rounds of my VCR as part of my own person home theatre exhibition. One was Wrestlemania VII, with Hogam versus Slaughter for Wrestling's interpretation of Gulf War supremacy. Two was Summerslam '91, with Bret Hart's first title as a singles wrestler, Macho Man's wedding, and the night the Mountie spent the night in jail.

The third was a tape entitled WWF Superstars, a mix tape of random matches with the top draws in the company. Of course there was Hogan, Savage, and Warrior. The obvious inclusions. But it was the opening match I remember and recall so well: a handicapped match between Demolition and the Powers of Pain.

The theatricality of the match was immediately striking. Clad in black leather with demon-like face paint, Demolition was a clear callback to George Miller's cult classic film The Road Warrior. Powers of Pain, were a post apocalyptic reciprocal to Demolition. Their names, Warlord and Barbarian reflected their appearance: back alley bruisers sent through time to fend off the armies of Genghis Khan, while covered in their own frightening face paint. Their manager, the maniacal, Mr. Fuji, was suited for battle himself, creating the handicap for Demolition.

The match was an absolute bruiser. A callback to to classic brute force in the ring, while simultaneously dismissing the art of classic Greek style takedowns for clubbing shots to the abdomen and lower back. A destructive festival of power and strength. Such could have been assumed from their ominous monickers. The finish of the match was fitting. The sniveling swine Fuji attempted to throw the white powder in the eyes of Demolition, but instead blinded the eyes of his tag team partner and ended up taking the signature elbow drop from Axe and Smash. The fan favorites went over in Caesar's Palace.

As the years went on, Warlord and Barbarian would take singles routes as wrestlers, still maintaining their fear provoking personalities. Barbarian, in particular, I remember as part of Bobby Heenan's "family" of wrestlers during the early 90's as a mid card heel to oppose the likes of Hogan and Big Boss Man. He would also frequently find himself as the tag team partner of Haku. Later, in WCW, he would continue to appear with Haku (then under the name Meng)as part of the Faces of Fear. Same schtick for Barbarian. Just a relocation down south.

But as the Monday Night Wars era faded to black with WWE's acquisition of WCW, so did Barbarian's tenure on the main stage after well over twenty years in the wrestling business...

Nearly a decade later, I have a bit of a lump in my throat. Trepidation grips like a Ted Nugent "Stranglehold". The same aforementioned Barbarian sits ten feet away. His face painted in the same Powers of Pain style I saw as a kid on that Superstars tape.

Despite being nearly twenty years older than I was back then and a little bit taller, I still look at Barbarian like he could headbutt if I said something wrong, and I wouldn't wake up for five years.

What do I call this man? I hear him referred to as Barb by the other wrestlers. Do people just walk up to him and call him Barbarian as if man and character never separate? It's like when I used to think if Ultimate Warrior signed his checks under the same name. As if the electric company would have service for a man under such a handle and mail invoices to Parts Unknown.

Barbarian's real name escapes me. I've looked it up recently in preparation, but the Tongan pronunciation is too foreign to recall a syllable. I would probably sound like a fool. I also worry about the reliability of my tape recorder, which seems Soviet and inefficient in button design. I feel like a hobbit about to have a conversation with a dragon in his den.

But funny enough, there's a calming reassurance I get from Barbarian's chuckling grin as he puts a pinch of tobacco in his lower lip. He sits down and calls over Mike Griffie, his business manager of sorts on the independent circuit. He resembles Kurt Cobain with shorter hair and acts as the mouthpiece in answering my questions.

What fascinates me the most about the man sitting before me is the fact that as a wrestler, Barbarian has navigated the major eras of the wrestling business and managed to sustain a certain amount of relevancy. As I ask how he was able to achieve that sustainability, he nods and communicates briefly in short, brief answers. Griffie fills in the blanks.

"Barbarian has been able to wrestle constantly throughout the years, and as much as the eras changed around him, he was also able to adapt his style to what the crowds wanted... In the 80's, which is considered 'old school' now, the wrestling was a lot slower and more powerful. In the 90's, of course, it was about the Attitude Era, which through his size and stature, Barbarian was able to stay relevant despite the need for bigger, riskier spots. Nowadays, it's about his overall experience that he brings to ring, which allows him to wrestle anybody no matter their experience level."

Barbarian methodically rocks back and forth on the bench he sits on, staring into a particular spot in the floor. I can tell he's in that zone like when Heenan would build him up during one of those backstage promos that would appear on WWE television.

Other wrestlers from the independent show that has just ended stop to talk to him or get a signed poster, but Barbarian politely declines until the interview is over.

I am honored by his commitment to our time, as if I was Bill Apter or Mike Mooneyham. I can't help but ask him how a man from Tonga, sent over by his own king to Japan to study the art of Sumo, transitioned to professional wrestling in the United States. Griffie draws the parallels between the two and how the training benefited Barbarian.

"After coming over to the States, it was the Sumo wrestling that made the transition so smooth for the guys who came from Tonga. Barbarian was able to maneuver his size around the ring and maintain balance while being able to push opponents around. The balance is and has been the key to his strength over the years."

Strength was the key factor in charting Barbarian's success with Warlord as Powers of Pain, which is widely considered where his push began in the business. A timely and famous feud with the Road Warriors set the NWA landscape ablaze, culminating in many highly regarded tag matches and even in the infamous weight lifting contest at the Great American Bash where the Pain crushed Animal's eye socket.

Upon entering the WWE, the Pain were originally fan favorites built primarily around their bruising history in the NWA. The heel turn came against Demolition when Fuji jumped shipped ship as manager, turning Demolition into fan favorites themselves.

When Powers of Pain went their separate ways, Barbarian overhauled his image, discarding his previous incarnation for the brown fur attire and antler headpiece he would wear for entrances. His singles career saw him score a victory over Tito Santana at Wrestlemania VI, but very soon he would be thrust back into the tag team scene with Haku, whom he would team with until the final days of WCW.

"With Warlord, it was about power. With Haku, it was about aggression," Barbarian bluntly, simply relates as he rises his head.

His dichotomy between both tag teams is brilliant in it's economy of words. I'd swear he was Hemingway, or at least the kind of guy Hemingway would have idolized or used as a muse.

But what I am curious about is how Barbarian, a man of continued fame and stature, has avoided the national stage for ten years despite the constant love for nostalgia in today's wrestling business. I inquire about any desire he would have to return to WWE, where he had his most fame and success.

Barbarian's head shakes no as if he's completed this line of thought long ago.

"My time is over," he says, again very directly minus any ornate romantic explanation. "Barbarian is a big proponent of new talent getting their push. He's had conversations with WWE, and we've entertained ideas, but Barbarian enjoys the independent circuit and the personal connection with the fans," Griffie adds.

Griffie even mentions a deal that was in the works to bring back Powers of Pain with the reformation of ECW within WWE, but it was a deal that fell through because WWE showed more interest in bringing in Barbarian than Warlord, something Barbarian would not agree to.

Barbarian's presence in the main event of the OSCW show indicates how he has transitioned to the role of traveling mentor. Tagging with local grappler Glen Lane, the two opposed former WCW star Lodi and regional wunderkind John Skyler (the West Skylerwood Blondes). With the show billed as a benefit for local coach Phillip Morgan, who was stricken with a paralyzing stroke last year, Barbarian is uncharacteristically billed as the face in the match.

He is an immediate draw for the children in attendance, but never draws attention to himself during the match. Instead he gracefully puts the younger Skyler over in spots and supports partner Lane, who has not been in the ring for fifteen years. He even goes as far as to go into the crowd and greet Coach Morgan with a handshake and a hug.

A long way, coming from the guy who crushed Animal's eye over twenty years ago.

My final question is like Wakefield's knuckleball; my go-to; my favorite. I know the majority of what I have asked is likely commonplace and been put forth before Barbarian numerous times before me, but this one I hope has not.

"What are you asked the most on the road?" I ask.

Barbarian sinks into his bench again, thinking. His mind works backwards through hundreds of thousands of wrestlers, matches, and shows.

I start to hear a chuckle, and he raises his head.

"Is Warlord still alive?"

Griffie and I laugh in return. From working Caesar's Palace and the Toronto Skydome all the way to Goose Creek High School in Charleston, South Carolina, he still maintains an amiable sense of humor. No ego. No sense of entitlement. Just a forehead branded with scars and a heart of selfless return to the business that made him a household name.

It's strange to see Barbarian exit with Griffie, wearing a t-shirt and jeans along with a ball cap while his fur entrance coat is stuffed in his bag. He is on his way back to North Carolina tonight. Most likely to resume his job as a construction manager in Charlotte on Monday morning. Imagine that. Your house might be the design of one half of Powers of Pain. If nothing else, you can guarantee it's probably tough as hell, much like the man himself.

When I get back into my car, I go on the Internet and read the name Sione Vailahi from my search page. Yeah, I would have sounded like an idiot trying to say that.

But for the record I am able to verify one pressing fact: Warlord is indeed very much alive.

And as such the legend of Powers of Pain lies preserved like the leopard in Hemingway's Snows of Kilimanjaro , frozen at the summit, forever remembered in its prime.

The CIW Awards And The Great Fan Uprising

Bill Maher had a great quote in the recent book charting the rise and success of ESPN entitled Those Guys Have All The Fun. Actually, Maher has more than a few quotes, but the one that stuck out in particular was his opinion of the ESPYs, the high profile awards show ESPN hosts every year.

Maher called the ESPYs the dumbest awards show there is because creating an award for "best team" is ridiculous when the teams decide who the best team is by the respective sport they play.

Now, one could argue the necessity of an awards show for professional wrestling based on the dreaded "f" word used to describe it by wrestling pessimists. Then again, it is honestly no different than how the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences or the Hollywood Foreign Press vote for the best films every year. After all, professional wrestling at its core is theatre with the overall purpose of entertaining. Thus, there is some merit to what Tim Dixon created in 2006.

Dixon, an independent wrestling enthusiast, created the website CarolinaIndependentWrestling.com as a central forum to showcase the talent and promotions of the North and South Carolina region. Besides creating a source of advertisement for all of the promotions, Dixon also spawned the Carolina Independent Wrestling awards (the CIWs) as a way for the fans to vote on which wrestlers and promotions they liked the best.

What might have started as merely an offhand idea to Dixon created a rabid response from the fans but more so from the wrestlers themselves, lending the CIWs to be become as high of a pedistle as any other achievement during the calendar year.

Dixon, unfortunately, had to close the website in 2010 due to his own increasing schedule demands, but Wayne Rush (who is clearly the Matthew Brady of independent wrestling with the amazing photography he brings) picked up the reigns from Dixon and revived the website through his own message board http://cwaprowrestling.yuku.com/ where the CIWs found life again.

Nearing the end of 2011, though, the amount of chatter around the awards is sadly dismal. Rush's forum is flooded with a deluge of posts from the OSCW and CWA enthusiasts, but where is everyone else at? Has there been a surrender by the promotions of the upstate?

On the surface, a CIW award can be viewed as merely ego stroke for the individual wrestler, but for YOUR wrestling promotion, the one you never miss and sacrifice gas money to see every
month, it represents the ultimate "feather in the cap" so when they advertise, they can bill themselves as "CIW Award Winner."

This is not the time of fractious, feudal territories that were defended at knightly games centuries ago, but Carolina independent wrestling needs a polarizing injection from it's fan base. Rush's forum should explode with outlandish commentary from starved jackals in support of who the best wrestler is and where he bears his flag from.

This year the CIW awards will begin it's nomination process on November 25th through the website http://cwaprowrestling.yuku.com/forums/163/Coming-soon. Rush has a strict "one IP address per day, per nomination" stipulation to eliminate repeat flood voting. The top five nominations in each category will be announced December 4th and from there the voting will be opened for the top five through December 23rd. On Christmas Day, the winners will be announced.

And the categories are...

Wrestler of the Year, Promotion of the Year, Rookie of the Year, Comeback of the Year, Feud of the Year, Tag-Team of the Year, Cruiserweight of the Year, Best New Promotion, Most Improved, Best Female Wrestler (includes valets and managers), Best Manager, Best Announcer and Best Referee.

On November 25th, do your civic wrestling duty. Nominate. Vote. Be heard. Everyone loves to be clever and smart when passively criticizing wrestling through the social media. Why not go all the way for the CIW Awards?

Be that starved jackal.

OSCW's "Kaos For The Coach" More Than A Wrestling Show

Joe Blumenfeld is up front when he tells me I have fifteen minutes to talk with him. It is 8:15 p.m. on a Monday night, and Blumenfeld's Chicago Bears are about to take on the Philadelphia Eagles for Monday Night Football. He tells me he is even wearing his Brian Urlacher jersey as we speak. I believe him. That's why I get right to the point.

Despite the truncated time, Blumenfeld is more than eager to talk about Old School Championship Wrestling's yearly finale before the promotion returns in 2012. The focus, though, of the scheduled November 20th show is more than just wrestling as suggested with the event title "Kaos For The Coach."

The benevolent cause driving the show is a benefit for longtime Charleston high school coach Phillip Morgan, who was stricken with a paralyzing stroke over a year ago. Morgan's influence and contribution over the years is not lost on Blumenfeld.

"We're talking about a guy that gave thirty five years of his life to his community. Thirty five years of helping others is pretty selfless, and it's something I admire and we all should admire," says Blumenfeld. "The effort we put into the show has to match the kind of effort that Coach Morgan put into affecting people's lives in our community. That's what we have to do as performers."

OSCW's inclusion in Morgan's benefit is a direct result of the growing buzz created by Blumenfeld's promotion since planting roots in Hanahan, South Carolina earlier this year. With the scope of this benefit reaching beyond OSCW's core audience and a higher anticipated turnout than usual, the show will be taking place at Goose Creek High School rather than the usual Hanahan Recreation Center where OSCW had frequented.

And with the event being promoted through many of the Lowcountry's high schools, Blumenfeld is excited about the possibility to showcase OSCW to a new audience not previously exposed to the promotion in the past.

"We have no idea what to expect, but based on Coach Morgan's presence in the community over the years, we could be looking at double the audience we're used to seeing. And hopefully it will want to bring them back to future OSCW shows."

In terms of ticket prices, ringside seats are available for $25 and bleacher seating is available for $10. ALL of the proceeds go toward Coach Morgan and his continued recovery effort.

The pressure of a potentially larger audience does not phase Blumenfeld, though, or the OSCW talent. "The guys were taught the philosophy it's a 100% effort whether its a hundred people in the audience or a thousand. We're going to give it all we have, regardless."

"Kaos For The Coach" will mark the 2011 finale show for OSCW, but in looking back on the year in review, Blumenfeld is proud of where his promotion is headed.

"What is really exciting is that we're getting a lot more feedback from the fans. And not just basic comments that the show was good or bad. We're getting specific criticisms about what worked with the fans and what they want to see more of."

Of course like previous shows, OSCW will be bringing in a couple of guest stars to headline the main event. One of which is former Raven's Flock member and WCW superstar Lodi, who just appeared in Columbia as part of a wrestling show about a month ago. He will be taking on legendary heel, The Barbarian, who frequented both the WWE and WCW stage throughout the 80's and 90's.

In looking forward to 2012, Blumenfeld does not cite possible gimmick shows he has in mind or grandiose ways to expand his promotion but rather a continued grass roots approach to broaden OSCW's horizons.

"I want my guys to continue to reach out and connect with the fans. That is what is most important to making this grow. Wrestling fans aren't stupid. They can recognize who is giving them an honest effort as a character and performer versus the ones that are not."

The "Kaos For The Coach" show will begin with a 6 p.m. bell time with the doors opening at 5 p.m. Goose Creek High School is located at 1137 Redbank Road. For further information about the show, visit www.oscwonline.com or call 843-743-4800. Once again, limited ringside seating is $25 and general bleacher seating is $10, and all proceeds go toward Coach Phillip Morgan.

Cockaboose Hosts Fall Brawl 2: How Jon Malus Hoodwinked Columbia With A Soda City Spectacular

Jon Malus and Luke Gallows (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Beyond the mania of the collegiate bar arena stands the garnet and black ring in front of the concert stage. The colors are fitting based on its location in Columbia, SC.

This is the Thunderdome of sorts for the Loose Cockaboose, the host of Fall Brawl II: The Lethal Lottery.

And as in the Mad Max film, a motley group of assorted characters coagulate in conversation as they enter with their rolling luggage. The wrestlers instantly catch up with each others' travels. Some just saw each other a week ago in Charleston. Some haven't seen each other in months.

It's only two in the afternoon. I'm camped out at the outdoor bar like a character out of Hemingway; beer and notepad handy in a sea of testosterone.

Jon Malus, the facilitator of this show, stalks the hot terrain like a foreman on a construction site. He guides the ring crew in setting up rows of chairs and assembling a multi-section black tarp that will act as a barrier between the audience and the wrestlers' backstage area.

The temperature is in the low seventies. Everyone's working up a sweat. Even Brett Wolverton, the journeyman ring announcer of the independent scene, is hard at work with the sound crew, matching his notes with theirs. It's his 30th birthday today.

As three o'clock approaches, more and more wrestlers enter. Most notably, Luke Gallows makes his entrance. Everyone takes notice when the former WWE star appears. And yet the guy with arguably the most experience, Brad Cain (Lodi) slips by with only a few acknowledgments.

The autograph and question/answer session with the wrestlers begins shortly after three thirty. A satellite bar has been erected across from the outdoor bar. The Cockaboose has created a three pronged approach to snare the fans in a net of beer and alcohol.

The first fans to enter are, of course, the die-hards. They've been waiting for this show for weeks, and it shows with the posters and memorabilia they bring to be signed.

Highlights from the question/answer session include poignant stories by Lodi concerning wrestling post-WCW fame and his laundry list of injuries. I feel compelled to ask BJ Hancock what his favorite Arthur Miller play is based on his t-shirt that says "Death of a Salesman." I resist the urge, fearing my question will elicit a riot of silence and disdain. Discussion over mid 20th century American theatre has no business being mentioned here.

The five o'clock bell time holds up. The wrestlers exit to the back. The number of people gathered has doubled with a combination of wrestling fans and Saturday bar hoppers. By the amount of open containers and mix drinks, it feels more like midnight than late afternoon. I embrace my hypocrisy with my Bud Light in hand. But I know how long this show will potentially last between seven tag matches, five singles matches, and a battle royal. A gentleman wearing a Staff t-shirt seems compelled to ignore that fact as I count his third mix drink going down the shaft. Via con dios amigo...

Josh Magnum (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Of the first group of tag matches, the opener with Josh Magnum and Jesse Windham matched up against Xavier Knight and BJ Hancock gets arguably the most pops. Early on, Magnum defied the exposed concrete sidewalk by diving onto Knight and Hancock from the top rope. His athleticism matched up against Knight's is the independent equivalent of Flair and Steamboat.

A cloud of smoke creates a haze around the bar. A growing buzz around the scene emanates from a group of female rugby players who have assembled amongst multiple buckets of beer; a regular alcoholucopia. They're like a wrestling stable of their own with strength in numbers and a bullish attitude towards the competitors.

The second Lethal Lottery tag match pits tag team nemeses DeAndre Jackson of Affirmative Action and Bradford Steele of L.E.G.I.T. against "the Insane" Asylum and "the Prestige" Steven Hunter. Jackson and Steele just competed against one another the previous Sunday in Charleston with L.E.G.I.T. winning the OSCW tag team titles. Their alliance is grudging to say the least. Jackson has an undeniable rapport with the audience. He combines a Men on a Mission look from the 90's with the personality of Arsenio Hall during his talk show days.

Asylum chokeslams DeAndre Jackson (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Asylum clearly has no love for Hunter, possibly stemming from a long buried dislike for the Beverly Brothers. (Hunter's color scheme on his tights is purple and silver.) He instantly slaps Hunter around like a Hemingway five letter woman. Asylum wins the match on his own with multiple chokeslams. The conclusion of the match sees the female rugby team venture inside and open a drinking contest amongst themselves.

Intervening between the tag team matches is the women's match between Pandora and Tracy Taylor. The match goes back and forth with various shifts in momentum for each lady. The frat boys that have gathered in the audience show their respect and decorum, shouting phrases like "punch her in the baby maker!" repeatedly. Classy gents. In the end the "Island Girl" Taylor gets the win over the punk rock kabuki Pandora.

Tracy Taylor and Pandora (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Still no word on who won the drinking contest between the ruby players.

I see guy with the Staff t-shirt again. He's staggering badly. He's trashed. It's only half past six. So are many others. The drunk collegians stumble with cocktails in hand and wear fierce combative eyes.Who knows when an impromptu match will break out in this crowd.

A bombed out Pitbull-looking gent is circling the "2 Bitches and a Broom" table like a drunken vulture, apparently spitting out insults at the girl running the promotion. This continues off and on for the rest of the night. It's like having Days of Your Lives in your living room while trying to watch Ali-Frazier.

Next up in the Lethal Lottery is Michael Frehley teamed with "the Salem Sinner" Sixx versus the Black Butler and Chrisifix. It should be noted that Chrisifix proudly wears an "I Killed Jesus" t-shirt that must sit well with the Christian fans. The Black Butler is by far the most unique gimmick that has appeared yet. Clad in full butler costume with long black hair, his movement is very staccato and mechanical. But it's Sixx (who resembles a lost member of Slipknot) who proves to be the difference maker, dominating everyone in the match.

Chrisifix and Michael Frehley (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Twilight starts to settle in, and I'm wondering how the fans are enjoying the show. They're excitement maintains with every match so far, but can Malus sustain it for the rest of the night? I had asked him how he could put together a show with no buildup or storylines for the fans to fall back on.

And then Yasir Ackbar comes out; the classic Middle Eastern anti-American archetype. He launches into a rant immediately, condemning the West. And then what music plays afterward? Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA."Sgt. Solitude emerges, waving Old Glory.

Malus just won his audience over for the rest of the night.

It's historical booking genius to have the Arab and the American forced to coexist as a tag team. God bless American foreign policy that has allowed that region of the world to continuously hate us.

But Malus has merely given us the tasty entree. Their opponents are the dessert for those of us that leave room for it. One is Stevie Stifler, the self proclaimed "Queen of the Mountain." That's right, Queen of the Mountain. You know what I mean...

Who on earth should be paired up with the "Queen of the Mountain?" Hoss Hagood, that's who! A country strong redneck! (Seriously, read his t-shirt.) Oh, that cunning Malus. This was his plan all along. Build the show around easily understood and identifiable gimmicks that produce a reaction from the audience. Like agit-prop theatre in early 20th century Europe.

Yasir Ackbar and Sgt. Solitude (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Of course it does not take long for Solitude and Ackbar to get caught up in their nationalistic dislike for one another, and it inevitably leads to their defeat and Hagood and Stifler's advancement to the Battle Bowl battle royal. Ackbar's double cross of Solitude seals the deal for their demise.

Full fledged darkness overtakes the landscape. Two flood lights attached to the sound stage overhang power on to back light the ring. The lack of illumination makes the next match all the more brilliant and confusing at the same time. Mostly because the twin Mack brothers, TJ and Kirby are matched against one another rather than together in their usual tag team situation. My chest instantly recalls the numerous chops both men gave me six years ago in Charleston as Mr. Showtime found himself at their mercy. My next Bud Light eases the muscle memory pain.

John Skyler appears as Kirby's partner; Dirty as TJ's. The speed of the match quickly hits a fifth gear, which, again, makes watching in the near dark all the more exciting. It's Skylar and Kirby who advance to Battle Bowl.

The next tag match announced brings out the other halves of Affirmative Action in Nick Kismet and L.E.G.I.T. in Brandon Paradise. This time the enemies are pitted against each other with Kismet teaming up with Brady Pierce and Paradise drawing the off center masked man, El Flexador, who immediately becomes the focal point of the match with his pandering toward the crowd. In a cunning twist to the end of the match, Paradise and El Flexador get the win, but Flex unmasks to reveal himself as... BRADFORD STEELE! Thus, both members of L.E.G.I.T. advance to Battle Bowl.

But not so fast, my friend, says Brett Wolverton, exercising a position of power and authority. The real Flex stumbles to the ring, the victim of an apparent mickey slipped to him by Steele. Wolverton declares Steele ineligible for Battle Bowl, giving Flex his rightful place in the battle royal, despite being drugged. But Flex declines, admitting he's still too weak to compete. A substitute will be named later.

In the midst of the match, I spot Josh Magnum making his way through the fans to the back of the outdoor bar. He's unassuming in his ball cap and street clothes, and finds a spot on a brick hedge to lean against while drinking his screwdriver and enjoying a cigarette. It's an image right out of the movie Hud with Paul Newman.

Lodi (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

The eighth and final Lethal Lottery tag match pits Lodi and Ace Armstrong against another uneasy alliance in Jay Batista and Ken Magnum. Lodi's entrance is an instant energizer for the calming crowd. And it's badly needed because the temperature has dropped ten degrees. Most fans did not bring jackets. They're seeing their breath now. The drunkards are morphed into lethargic bar flies. The guy with the Staff t-shirt is passed out inside, head buried in the table.

The die-hards get their shot in the arm from Lodi and his "Welcome to the Jungle" entrance. The match itself sees Batista and Magnum battle each other more than their opponents, but it's Lodi who gets double crossed by Armstrong, causing their elimination. Lodi sits stunned in the middle of the ring. But the Columbia fans reward his appearance nevertheless.

To determine the final competitor in Battle Bowl, a singles "shoot out" is set up, ironically and fittingly, with "The Shooter" Vordell Walker and Billy Brash. Coming off of his victory against Luke Gallows a week prior in Charleston, Walker immediately takes Brash to task with a calculating offense that sets up for his trademark brainbuster, submission combination, causing Brash to tap out quickly.

Following Walker's victory is another singles match outside of the Lethal Lottery and Battle Bowl, featuring the recently crowned NWA Future Legends Cup winner Zack Salvation against Micah Taylor. Another high quality match that demonstrates far and away how deserving Salvation was of his honor. 

Following Salvation's victory is the Battle Bowl battle royal,  And it's not like a Royal Rumble set up where the wrestlers come out after a minute or so to join the fray. No, no, sir. This Battle Bowl is going to be a white line nightmare that begins with all fourteen men in the ring at the same time.

Before it begins, however, Wolverton announces El Flexador's replacement for Battle Bowl. Expecting someone from earlier to be chosen like Magnum just to see a hypothetical suicide dive off of the stage roof into the ring, the crowd is stunned when the replacement turns out to be Grandmaster Flex, a clever reinvention of the El Flexador character.

Malus! You've hoodwinked me again!

The chaos immediately erupts with the wrestlers charging one another like the running of the bulls. It's a punch and kick frenzy. I want to say I'm picking one of the big guys like Asylum, but somehow it never works out for a big guy in a battle royal. At least not historically by the numbers.

John Skyler and Xavier Knight (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

John Skyler has the hometown edge, that's for sure.

After the initial frenzy the bodies start exiting via the top rope. Skyler survives many an attempted elimination spots ala Shawn Michaels when he went bell to bell back in 1995. So does Xavier Knight. Eventually, they're both going at it, and it's classic wrestling drama. Either guy could win this thing, and they're two of the final three men left.

How can this possibly end? Who of these two will win Battle Bowl?

Neither.

They're both eliminated by Hoss Hagood in one fell swoop! Hagood wins Battle Bowl! Hagood is the first TLC Battle Bowl champion! Wolverton presents him with his trophy. No one saw the ending coming. Being a sucker for historical call backs, I was expecting someone to come out and bust apart the trophy ala Bret Hart on Bad News Brown at Wrestlemania IV.

Hoss Haygood wins Battle Bowl (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

But the night is not over yet. Two marquee matches remain. The fans aren't going anywhere, for next they are treated to a match that pits WWE against TNA. Luke Gallows versus Chase Stevens.

Stevens is first to enter, and he blasts the Columbia crowd with insults. Classic heat.

Luke Gallows enters to AC/DC's "Back in Black," and the Straight Edge Society member reveals a Budweiser long neck in hand. The crowd goes nuts for Gallows and his character change. Stevens calls him out on his defection. Gallows responds with a beat down. A bedlam beat down that finds its way to the outside.

Gallows shows a charisma never before seen during his run on WWE television. Perhaps this kind of character turn is what he needs to get back to WWE on his own someday; without the burden or reliance on a tag partner or stable. His match with Stevens is more than worth the five dollars for admission. A ticket for this match would be at least double or triple that price in a national promotion. He goes over clean on Stevens.

Luke Gallows and Chase Stevens (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Up to this point, Malus has pitched a gem in setting up this show. To close it out, he finds himself matching up against the "Insane Lumberjack" Timber in what has been promoted as a Soda City Street Fight. Regardless of the nomenclature, it's a match that goes to the outside, and anything not nailed to the ground goes flying, These two know how to put on a good street fight as they tear apart the security rails. Why not? It's the main event. Tear the house down!

And they do. And everyone from the back finds there way to the ring to assist in a recall to Battle Bowl with a few classic gimmicks reemerging from the wrestlers who have already appeared. In the sea of humanity, Malus, the "Peroxide Juggernaut" catches Timber with a DDT that gives him the victory.

Timber and Jon Malus (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

A heartfelt beer bash is shared between everyone in the back; a thank you to each other and the fans for attending. Malus personally thanks the fans with a closing delivery on the mic. As the clock strikes ten, the die-hards finally start to file out. It has been a marathon show, which in other promotions would have been an issue with maintaining the attention of an independent wrestling crowd. But Malus has put on a masterpiece that is evidence that not only can he tell a story in the ring as a performer but can assemble and facilitate a show as well as anyone.

I leave the Cockaboose not only treated as a journalist to a first hand account of wrestling delight, but more importantly I leave entertained as a fan.

But I still wonder if the guy in the Staff t-shirt made it home?

Columbia Fans Flock To See Lodi

Photo courtesy of Wayne Rush

Through the back door of the Loose Cockaboose bar sits a wrestling ring set up in front of a stage. The amphitheater design is a juxtaposition of classic Greek theatrical design and Panama City in Florida (sans ringside pool). The show is a unique and ambitious concept that references classic WCW lore: The Lethal Lottery.

Well over twenty wrestlers are gathered for what stands to be a marathon show of tag team matches culminating in a winner-take-all battle royal.

The show has not begun yet.

As a treat for the fans attending, a special autograph and question/answer session is organized with all of the competitors being on hand to gland hand the patrons. Most of the men gathered garner state or regional celebrity in professional wrestling. The die hard fans that travel up and down I-26 follow them like rock starts. But this particular show also has a couple of "name" draws to spark attendance.

One is "The Natural" Chase Stevens, a former star of Impact Pro Wrestling. His recognition is validated by numerous requests by fans for photographs. He is more than willing to oblige with a very genial attitude.

On the end of the table is Luke Gallows, former WWE star, who just last week worked a show down in Charleston. And as in Charleston, he garners the most attention from fans as he sits with assortments of memorabilia.

And then somewhere in between both Stevens and Gallows sits Brad Cain with a baseball cap on his head and wearing unassuming clothes. A few fans stop by his section but for most he just blends in with the other independents.

Maybe they don't recognize him without the blonde sideburns.

Maybe they don't recognize him without the poster board signs.

The ones that do recognize Cain remember him as Lodi, the one-time manager of Raven's Flock turned tag team partner of Lenny Lane back in the late 90's of WCW.

His career began in 1997 as a student of C.W. Anderson, and he was later picked up by WCW the same year where he continued his training at the Power Plant. The name "Lodi" came around as a reverse spelling of "Idol" because Cain resembled rocker Billy Idol with the bleach blonde hair.

Lodi was inserted into WCW story lines as a manager to a group of wrestlers who acted as underlings to Raven. The natural name for the stable was Raven's Flock, and Lodi's role as manager was unlike any classic rendition of the role.

He carried signs to the ring, often times with humorous phrases that were directed at himself or members of the Flock. Later, the signs were upgraded to Trojan horses for weapons such as Stop signs that became momentum shifters in matches involving the Flock.

Lodi's entrance would become sort of a cheerleader's bounce that brought considerable attention to a stable that avoided the microphone like the plague (with Raven as the exception). At a time in the height of the Monday Night Wars, Raven's Flock was almost as popular an attraction on WCW television as the NWO, mainly for the opponents they would try and ambush like Diamond Dallas Page or Chris Benoit. But it was also Lodi's willingness to be the outlandish, bombastic, and often times squashed manager of the Flock that could incite an audience time and time again.

The life span of the Flock was cut short in 1998 after Perry Saturn defeated Raven in match that set the members of the group "free" of their obligation to Raven. Lodi would unfortunately be sidelined for an extended period of time after fracturing an ankle in a match. He would not return until 1999.

Upon his return, Lodi would team with Lane and form the West Hollywood Blondes, a tag team that would garner more controversy and notoriety rather than success.

During a time period in wrestling where the envelope had to be continuously pushed in order to preserve and strengthen its fan base, WCW and WWE would hit and miss with a variety of character turns and story lines for its talent. Lodi and Lane had the distinction of being the tag team that became notorious for being homosexually characterized in their actions and appearance.

Feeling the pressure from GLAAD because of the negative image created by Lodi and Lane, TNT and WCW would pull the plug on the tag team, and once again Lodi would be absent from television.

A couple of subsequent returns with Lane in repackaged teams were not noteworthy and quickly fizzled. Cain was released by WCW in 2000 also amid rumors of substance abuse and alcohol addiction.

The journey for Cain post-WCW involved a couple of false starts with Impact Wrestling and the NWA based out of Charlotte, but he found work in the independent wrestling scene around the country.

During the question/answer session before the beginning of The Lethal Lottery, Cain stands in the ring with a few of his fellow wrestlers appearing in the show. Gallows and Stevens are present as well.

A question is asked about what the worst injury any of them have suffered. A few of the younger wrestlers cite ankle sprains and light ailments. Gallows references his shoulder surgery while in WWE. Cain steps forward and leaves the crowd hesitant after revealing a one-man M.A.S.H. list of injuries including two broken necks, seven concussions, two knee surgeries, numerous ankle surgeries, and the recent distinction of being knocked out for the first time during a match. For a guy remembered as being a manager for most of his career, it's a testament to a love of the business.

The most poignant moment in the question/answer session comes when Cain reveals a story not too dissimilar from the autograph session that took place earlier. He talks about sitting at a table in a mall with a couple of other wrestlers, again, signing autographs. Except the fans are walking by in ignorance. Cain realizes it is the shaved side burns and shaved blonde hair that have created his anonymity. He and one of the guys he is sitting with actually stop the fans and ASK them to give an autograph.

"When you're trying to make it in the business, you dream of the success. Then you make it in the business, and you start to get tired of the success and the grind of it all. And then when you're out of the business, you're back to dreaming about the success again. It's really something you have to appreciate when you have it because you miss it when you don't," Cain admits with a microphone in the rings.

The Lethal Lottery starts at five o'clock with the random pairing of tag teams. A women's match and a couple of promos from other wrestlers are weaved in between. It is not until around eight thirty that Cain is finally paired with a partner. The temperature has dropped ten degrees in Columbia. What was once a sunny afternoon has descended into jacket wearing weather.

But when the music hits, Cain appears as Lodi, fittingly with a sign over his head proclaiming "Lodi needs coffee!" He bounces with the same energy he exuded back in 1998 as if he was transported from an arena thirteen years ago. Cain journeys around the security railing and runs to the outdoor bar where a group of collegiate frequenters of the Loose Cockcaoose are casually discussing some mundane subject. Cain energetically approaches in wrestling attire and proclaims "What's going on back here? Let's go!" before running back to the ring.

Cain may not have main evented a major pay per view or won a world title in his career while on the national circuit. And maybe in some way it's a career that was left mildly unfulfilled in its resume. But Cain's effort in front of the crowd in Columbia does not leave any of the fans unfulfilled.

Magnum, LEGIT Claim Titles at OSCW Event, Walker Triumphs

Photo courtesy of Wayne Rush

With a seven match card highlighted by a guest appearance by former WWE star Luke Gallows, OSCW entertained the fans of Hanahan, South Carolina with a show that saw two titles change hands and a new faction gain momentum and prominence in the organization.

As advertised, Gallows brought his Straight Edge Society persona to bat against "The Shooter" Vordell Walker in a match that was a crisp, technical contest in every sense of the word. Living up to his moniker, Walker countered Gallows' size  advantage with a balanced attack of kicks, grapples, and close quarters attacks that kept the WWE star at bay for most of the match, eventually leading to a carefully timed roll up that gave Walker the victory. The effort Gallows provided showed he has not slowed down nor his skill set diminished one bit since his release from WWE a year ago.

Making his OSCW debut was Charleston native Pete Kaasa, a young man well publicized in the area as he currently trains at WWA4 in Atlanta, Georgia. He was paired off in an impromptu match with Lord of the Ring winner and LEGIT big man, Hans Baumgardner. Kaasa far and away had the largest following in terms of fans at the Hanahan Recreation Center, and if his premiere bout was any indication, then the future looks very bright for Kaasa.

Lacking a long vertical base, Kaasa's toned physique and conditioning made working with a bulky Baumgardner a clash of style that, at times, showed Kaasa's inexperience but also demonstrated his resilience and high risk ability.A corkscrew attack from the top rope to the outside forced the entire crowd to collectively hold its breath. But what was most telling of the young man's dedication to his craft was his reemergence after his hard fought loss to Baumgardner to watch the rest of the show with the crowd, taking in and studying what his peers were doing in the ring.

Baumgardner's win was not the only one for Reginald Vanderhoff and his faction LEGIT. Despite an ongoing war of words with OSCW General Manager Bob Keller, Vanderhoff found his tag team of Bradford Steele and Brandon Paradise challenging the OSCW tag team champions Affirmative Action (Deandre Jackson and Nick Kismet) with the straps on the line. Vanderhoff might have opened the show throwing the proverbial (a literal) book at Keller and OSCW, but he came away with a position of power and influence with Steele and Paradise usurping the tag team champions and capturing the belts.

With Baumgardner already laying claim to a Lord of the Ring championship and Steele and Paradise wearing the tag team titles, LEGIT, pun intended, found its legitimacy in OSCW with its showing in Hanahan.

In an elimination-style four way match, Calie Casanova put his hardcore title on the line against Roughouse Matthews, Michael Frehley, and returning Charleston veteran Tank Lewis. By the time all four men had hit the ring, the action was already spreading to the outside, and Frehley found himself the early odd man out via a devastating Burning Hammer by Matthews. Lewis, looking very trim and well conditioned, brought his mat wrestling A-game, but in a no disqualification hardcore match, that worked against him and eventually was ousted via a low by Matthews, who himself nearly swept the field to become the new hardcore champion. But Casanova, being a wily hardcore veteran, retained his title in a feud that does not look to have reached its zenith with Matthews, judging by the post match confrontation between the two superstars.

Another impromptu adjustment GM Keller made during the night was announce a replacement opponent for Hexxon, who was scheduled to face Jesse Windham but who couldn't compete due to "circumstances beyond his control." Keller's replacement was none other than Jon Malus who hit the ring like a peroxide juggernaut, unloading on Hexxon and rekindling their rivalry from over the summer. The match ended prematurely, however, when the previously banished Killian O'Con appeared from the crowd wearing a Barack Obama mask. His interference propelled Keller to set up a future tag team battle between the team of Hexxon and O'Con against Malus and Windham. The date of said match is yet to be determined.

The two premiere OSCW singles titles were hotly contested as well during the evening's proceedings. Asylum, the resident Tower of Terror in OSCW and current World Champion, put his title on the line against mega-face Josh Magnum. A natural character in the vein of a classic Burt Reynolds character from the 70's, Magnum's natural good ole boy demeanor charmed the crowd as he battled the imposing champion. Despite numerous near falls, including one following a devastating spine buster, Asylum was unable to catch Magnum in his trademark choke slam, and after a second 450 splash by Magnum, the Bellevue Bomber's reign as champion was over. To add insult to injury, Asylum's post-match attack was halted by a chair shot from Magnum that allowed the new champion to escape.

Based purely on the scope of its domain, it is fair to call the Universal Title the richest prize in OSCW, and John Skyler looked to further add to his burgeoning resume of noteworthy achievements by capturing the belt from Sgt. Solitude. Clad in his "I retired Bob Keller" quoted t-shirt, Skyler used a variety of cerebral tactics to sucker Solitude into giving chase to him outside of the ring. Despite being heavily jeered by the audience, particularly by a raucous section of preteen boys, Skyler nearly prevailed after dodging one of the champion's patented spear attacks. But his luck didn't roll twice when Solitude charged and scored with his finisher for the pin and retained his belt. A match that showed plenty of illusion to epic confrontations in pro wrestling history when the aged veteran is challenged by the young upstart.

Before the night ended, it was announced that OSCW will be returning to action on November 20th as part of the "November to Remember" benefit show. Details to come in the coming weeks.

Beyond Festus and WWE: The Continued Journey of Luke Gallows

Luke Gallows wipes the sweat from his head and catches his breath backstage.

He has just finished a technical wrestling clinic with "The Shooter" Vordell Walker after main eventing Old School Championship Wrestling's latest event, his fifteenth match of the week.

Gallows (real name Drew Hankinson) is no stranger to the road, having worked with WWE from 2006 through 2010. But even so, he's taking the expression "road warrior" to Mad Max heights in his transition to the independent circuit.

"I've stayed very busy," Gallows admits since his departure from WWE in November of 2010. "We just finished a taping in LA for the Wrestling Revolution Project where we taped 62 matches in three days, and I'm gearing up to head to Australia soon for a show."

Despite the busy schedule, Gallows shows no signs of wear or fatigue as he dresses in his camouflage shorts after his match, and he is not too tired to talk about Festus, the character that elevated him to a certain degree of fame in WWE.

"I enjoyed Festus. He was a character for the kids; the guy who went nuts when the bell rang. That's what Festus will be remembered for, and that's not a bad thing. It's just like Jake Roberts. What will he be known for? He's the guy who brought the snake to the ring. It's an instant association you make."

Although Festus fell into a long line of WWE "monster" characters that prayed upon simplistic archetypes, Gallows pulled from what sources he could from pop culture to add relevancy and nuance to his in-ring performance. He cites Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men as a major influence in creating the dichotomy of simple mindedness and irrepressibly of Festus.

It is that reliance and awareness of the pop culture around them that Gallows feels is the meat and potatoes of what has generated success for WWE and professional wrestling. "That's what made the Attitude era so popular. You had characters that were hip and cool and in touch with what was going on with the times versus the previous era of cartoon characters the WWE generated that were more over the top."

Almost never is it uncommon to hear someone who was released by WWE to vent anger or start a soap box rant about unfair treatment. It is mostly seen or heard in interviews or even during in-ring segments of competing promotions. But Gallows shows a remarkable optimism and professionalism when addressing the subject and maintains a pleasant and engaging demeanor while signing autographs for the OSCW fans.

"I didn't hate WWE. In fact, my goal would be to return, but if I made it back I would want to be my own solo act. As Festus I was in a tag team predominantly with Jesse, and then with the Straight Edge Society that was Punk's group. I want to come back and be my own thing."

And with his impressive and continued work load on the independent circuit combined with only being 27 years old, Gallows has plenty of time and experience ahead of him in his career. The healthiest ingredient in maintaining his journeyman status is his ability to still continuously find enjoyment with the business. "I can have just as much fun at a show like this as I would with a full Smackdown audience in a arena. I love the business. As long as I'm wrestling, I'm having fun."

And then Gallows calmly puts on a camouflage hat that matches his shorts and grabs his bag.

He makes his way to the exit, taking a few last minute pictures with the other OSCW guys and laughs at one last question.

I ask Gallows what people ask him the most while he's on the road at different shows, anticipating a response somewhere along the lines of career advice.

On the contrary. "Believe it or not, it's whether I know The Rock."

Malus Puts Together Ultimate Wrestling Show In Columbia

The booming base in Jon Malus' voice is a telling reflection of the man that has stepped between the ropes of wrestling rings for ten years. He commands your attention, but his intention is nothing but pure honesty.

As a wrestler, he combines size, power and finesse in a manner resembling ECW legend Balls Mahoney with a look like a member of the band Disturbed. Make no mistake, Malus is intimidating. But beneath the surface lies, dare we say it, a promoting genius.

"I'm not a promoter," Malus insists multiple times in our conversation. But what he has done, if not as a promoter, is create a unique wrestling following that has not been prevalent in Columbia, South Carolina for many years.

Having worked many shows in South Carolina under the promotions of CWA and OSCW, Malus definitely had his name circulating around the southeast wrestling landscape, which led to a chance telephone call.

The Loose Cockaboose, a restaurant/bar in direct proximity to Williams Brice Stadium has been a frequent stop for the Gamecock faithful on football game days. What Malus found was that the establishment was looking for something a little different than what they used to getting with local bands and collegiate sporting events.

"They wanted to put together a wrestling show, but the thing was none of them had ever put together a wrestling show or had any experience in the wrestling business. I was given a budget of $800 and one month to put together a show. That was in the spring of 2010."

With the time and money constraints working against him, Malus envisioned a tight five match card to maximize the budget he was given with high quality talent. Again, Malus found his plans altered.

"The venue wanted a seven hour show; kind of an all-day wrestling event. I knew it was impossible to have a card that filled an entire seven hour slot. So I worked it out to have local bands play in between blocks of matches."

In the end, Malus had six intermissions between sets of two wrestling matches a piece. The crowd was mostly sparse throughout the show. It was a learning experience for Malus and for the Cockaboose.

If there is one thing Malus is adamant about (besides not being a promoter) it's about evaluating and recruiting good talent. He quotes Dustin Rhodes, whom he cites as one of his favorite wrestlers to work with and talk to. "Dustin told me simply, 'If you're good at something, never work for free.'"

Malus saw by having to fill a large time slot with only $800 that he had to recruit a lot of local wrestlers who were more than willing to work for free just to get on a card. Unfortunately, and it was no strike to their effort, a lot of the talent was not seasoned enough to put on a good show.

But Malus and the venue were committed to putting on a second show. A better show than the first.

That would take place in the fall, aptly named Fall Brawl 2010.

The second show from Malus and the Cockaboose featured a budget double the size of the first show and a lot more planning before hand, not to mention a lot more trust in Malus' ability to find high quality talent to feature on the card. "For the second show, we brought in twice the number fans as the first. The signature of the card was bringing in Gunner from TNA."

With a certain amount of success derived from Fall Brawl 2010, Malus stepped up his game in putting together the show this past spring. He scored a coup by booking Bill DeMott, who at the time was garnering huge ratings as one of the trainers of the rebooted Tough Enough for WWE.

Again, the turnout was greater than the previous two shows.

Now with the pressure of topping himself again, Malus has pulled out all of the stops in putting together Fall Brawl II, which is slated to take place Saturday, October 22. To change the format of the show, he is introducing a throwback to the classic days of WCW:  The Lethal Lottery.

Back in 1991, WCW introduced Battlebowl as a part of the Starrcade pay per view, which combined elements of the WWE's Survivor Series and Royal Rumble gimmick matches. The idea was to have randomly created tag team matches (of course pairing faces with heels at some point) and have the victors compete in a battle royal at the end of the night to declare one undisputed winner.

In creating his Lethal Lottery, Malus has assembled quite the collection of wrestlers, with over twenty competitors from nine states. The rules will be consistent with the classic Lethal Lottery rules, with the winner being declared the first TLC Lethal Lottery Champion.

Running alongside The Lethal Lottery will be three singles matches, including a mega showdown between Malus and the "Insane Lumberjack" Timber. It is a match Malus admits that has been a long time coming.

'Timber and I have been working the Carolinas for years, but we've never wrestled each other on the same card. That's something I'm really looking for ward to. That's why I love an event like this."

And Malus doesn't skimp on other perks to spending five dollars for his wrestling show. Along with having a burgeoning card of quality talent and matches, fans will also have the opportunity to attend a meet and greet with the wrestlers performing as well as receive autographs starting at 3pm with the actual bell time slated for 5pm.

When asked about what he envisions for his show next spring, considering the amount of size and effort put into Fall Brawl II, Malus merely laughs. "I'm not going to lie, I've been thinking about it. But it's going to be really hard to top this."

The Loose Cockaboose Sports Bar & Grill

936 South Stadium Road

Columbia, SC

$5 Admission

Superstar Meet & Greet: 3pm

Bell Time: 5pm