OCTOBER 12, 2014 [undisclosed location] |
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| “They fucking did it.” I find myself speaking aloud, my hand trembling as I reach out for the glass of Jameson whiskey placed on the coffee-table. The sounds of a crowd cheering on the television are drowned out as I press the mute button on my remote with my free hand. I down the drink in one and then let loose a long-awaited, relieved, sigh of content. Suddenly, my iPhone buzzes loudly and I bite my lower-lip as I view the name on my screen. KEVIN KAY Taking a second to regulate my breathing, I place the empty glass down, pick up the phone and hit “ACCEPT”. I switch the phone to loudspeaker and hold it gingerly in my hand. There is a humdrum of background noise on the other end of the line for a few moments before a voice speaks out. “Irish, you there? Can you hear me?” “I… I can hear you, yeah… what’s up?” “What’s up is... we’re in. You got another year. I don’t know how you did it but… we’re in. That’s all you need to know.” “Tha-” I didn’t even get one word to express my gratitude for what had just occurred. I could scarcely believe it. Just over six months ago I was handed the unwanted keys to a house that was on the brink of collapsing in on itself. There was no support. No money. No hope. A year-long use-it-or-lose-it situation where the person forcing the situation upon me wanted it to lose. Was trying to make it lose. Failure was not an option - it was the expectation. Survival wasn’t seen as something viable by anybody. Except me. Except me… and the wrestlers that stayed aboard the sinking ship in a desperate attempt to keep it afloat. We were meant to die. But TNA doesn’t fucking die. |
******RECORD SCRATCH****** [BRIAN ZANE]: “Wait, wait, wait! Hold up! So you’re telling me that you guys went into Bound For Glory - your flagship event, your WrestleMania, your biggest ever crowd - without knowing if Impact was going to be airing on Spike that Thursday?” [TOMMY “IRISH” GRADY]: “Hahaha! I mean, when you put it like that… yeah, yeah it was crazy.” [BRIAN ZANE]: “But surely, SURELY, you had to have some sort of inkling considering how things had been going?” [TOMMY “IRISH” GRADY]: “Look, like I said, it was a crazy time. The most unlikely of stories in the most unusual of circumstances. Some say we got lucky but man… we worked our damn asses off all year to make it happen. Like I dunno how much everyone really knows about how everything went down but honestly, until Kevin Kay rang me that night I was watching Mike and Pete sign off on Bound For Glory unsure if it was going to be the last Bound For Glory ever. People underestimate just how important Spike was to the company, there wasn’t a queue of broadcasting stations lining up to bring us on board, you know? Wrestling just wasn’t sexy in 2014, especially if you were the number… were we even the number two at that time? It was Spike or bust. It’s that simple.” [BRIAN ZANE]: “I’d heard rumours - we all had - but I didn’t know it was that dire of a situation. How did it get so bad? How did TNA get to the point where their very future was hanging on the whim of a TV exec?” [TOMMY “IRISH” GRADY]: “I’m starting to feel like I’ve started this story ass-ways, Brian!” [BRIAN ZANE]: “Well, you certainly have me confused! Hahaha!” [TOMMY “IRISH” GRADY]: “Right, forget BFG 2014, scrap it. I started at the right event but the wrong year; if I’m gonna take you back to the start we’ve gotta go back a little. We’ve gotta go back to Bound For Glory… 2013.” |
BOUND FOR GLORY October 20, 2013 [viejas arena, san diego, california] RESULTS |
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ENTRY 2: THE NEARLY KNOCKOUT MAN
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ENTRY 3: THE (CHOSEN) ONE WHO KNOCKS
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October 20, 2013 [doubletree by the hilton hotel in san diego, california] |
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| “Can I come in, Irish?” Rather than answering, Tommy steps aside and allows Jeff Jarrett to walk past him and into his hotel room. Jeff looks at the bottle of half-drained Jameson on the coffee table and Tommy blurts out a question. “Drink?” Jeff eyes it for a second before he sighs and plops himself down on the chair beside the coffee table. “It ain’t Jack but it’ll do. God knows I need somethin’.” As Tommy scrambles to find a second glass, Jeff continues talking, shining some light on his rather jaded demeanour. “I ain’t gonna beat around the bush, Irish… we’re in the shit. Big time. Hulk and Eric… they ain’t resigning. The negotiations didn’t go to plan.” “Oh?” Tommy tries to keep the note of approval out of his tone. It was no big secret that Hulk and Eric were very unlikely to extend their deals beyond their October 2013 expiry and Tommy was a little surprised Jeff of all people seemed to be hung up on the fact that they hadn’t. “I know what you’re thinkin’… and yeah, yeah, they probably weren’t what we thought they were gonna be. Thing is, Irish, we only got the SpikeTV deal renewed in 09 on the back of ‘em signin’ for us. That deal is up next year and Dixie just got off the phone with Kevin…” Tommy finally procures a glass and fills it up. Jeff isn’t telling him to stop. Tommy sits down opposite him and looks at him properly. Jeff bears the face of a man who knows the gig is just about up. If Dixie was on the phone to Kevin - that’s Kevin Kay, SpikeTV president - then it could only mean one of two things: good news or bad news. Tommy wasn’t a rocket scientist but it didn’t take one to figure out that this was almost certainly the latter. “They ain’t plannin’ on renewing the deal. They said they were considerin’ it anyway but without the… draw of Hulk, the decision has been made internally.” Tommy notices the grimace on Jeff’s face and he knows that deep down that it’s painful to tell him this. “That’s… that’s pretty fucking shit, Jeff.” “It is. It’s more than shit… but we have to try somethin’ here, Tommy. I can’t just let this go with a whimper. Dixie asked me what can we do? How can we convince Kevin to extend the deal. I tried wracking my brains and you know what came to me? The Turning Point 32.” A sudden lump forms in Tommy’s throat. The Turning Point 32 was an idea he had pitched a few months ago in a creative meeting. The head writers and Eric weren’t too hot on the idea but Jeff had said it was worth shelving for a later time. Put a pin in it. That’s what he’d said. “Look… I won’t sugarcoat it… you ain’t the first choice but the books aren’t great, we’ve bled a lot of money these last few years. We can’t get a Paul in the door. You’ve been quietly solid, you’ve had a few good ideas. We need a new direction, a new vision, somebody who ain’t gonna bitch and cry about having to work with what’s in front of him…” Wait, what? Tommy wasn’t the first choice for what? What was Jeff getting at? “We’re at the bottom of the ninth, Irish, we’ve gotta take a swing. We ain’t in a position to hit a home run but we sure as hell need some sort of Hail Mary. Dixie asked me what to do… I told her to give the bat to you.” Stunned, Tommy tries to utter a comprehensible sentence. “You mean you want me to-” “Let me make it simple for ya; I told Dixie to give the book to you, Irish. I don’t know if she’s desperate, trusts my judgement, or feels she has no other option… but she said yes.” A loud smashing sound rings out around Room 274 of the DoubleTree by the Hilton. Jeff’s eyes dart to the whiskey glass shattered at the feet of Tommy “Irish” Grady and then slowly divert upwards to look at the trembling new head booker of TNA Wrestling. |