The Business of Kayfabe

by Sean Oliver

  Knowing your shoe size in a business negotiation comes from doing good homework and planning. Sometimes there’s a great deal of research needed to arrive at the knowledge that you’re a size 9. But once you do, the entire scenario needs to be reframed in your mind to that of a shoe store.

  That framing should put you in a good mindset, and should be a big boost in getting you the conviction necessary for the process, which has now been greatly simplified for you. During the discussions with the other party, keep returning to this model and replacing the details with the shore store. Are they selling you an 11? Then you need to leave. But in order to do so you must have the conviction to walk away as well. Remember, a shoe that doesn’t fit is a waste anyway. There’s another one out there that does fit. Go find it.

  My example of The Great Debate ‘08 is size 9 versus size 11 scenario. The show was priced at 11 and I probably should have walked, unless I found a way to make my size 11 for that show—but this was before entering the iPPV realm and we weren’t doing Signature Editions yet. I’d imagine the collector would have paid a pretty penny for an edition of the show signed by both Bruno and Harley.

  The research you’ll be conducting to find your shoe size will be the foundation of your decisions regarding this no-games negotiation. It’s imperative that you use accurate data and projections. That’s not even really the hard part, truth be told. The real difficulty is in accepting these numbers as fact with such conviction, that you’re able to achieve that Zen-like placidity and never question your decision to walk away. You wouldn’t think twice walking away from the shoe store if they didn’t sell your size.

  If there’s a part of you fearing being seen as inflexible, don’t worry about that. Are you inflexible because you won’t cram your foot in a size 7? Be polite in negotiation, but stay firm in your decision and be thorough in your explanation as to why something will not work for you. Don’t be a dick and say things like “final offer” and alienate yourself from future negotiations with that party. Chances are they’ll come back later. Having established yourself as a smart businessperson who adheres to a budget will help you when they return. People will realize you’re someone who knows what they want and doesn’t play games.

  There may be some concessions to be made, and that’s fine, as long as it fits in with your shoe size. But you’ll know whether or not it does or doesn’t in advance, or at the very least your gut will tell you when you hear the offer or counter offer. You likely know that there are some shoe companies that make their wares a little bigger, so a size lower may be a perfect fit in that case. Perhaps you have to go down to an 8 for that style of shoe, but it’s not too tight and you’ll break them in after wearing them for a week or so. The key is that the shoe fits. If the number slides a bit, that concession is fine if you leave with a shoe that you can wear.

  At KC, when I am made aware of a wrestler’s availability I usually make the first offer. Sometimes I’ll feel Anthony out on where he thinks the price tag should be for that talent and for that particular show. After Anthony and I confer and make sure we have some programming into which they fit and a place on the schedule for it, I’ll reach out to the talent, the agent, or promoter acting as the intermediary. If the talent is someone with whom we’ve worked before, the process is usually pretty quick and easy.

  Because Anthony and I have discussed our collective shoe size and agreed to it, the process of no-games negotiation is quick and painless. One way or the other.

  I’m sometimes asked who is more difficult to work with—the old school wrestling legends or the new generation of wrestler. There’s no set rule, as far as which is more difficult. Some are great to deal with, some are not. Some negotiations are easy, and some have flaws. In negotiation, both generations of wrestler have separately unique flaws.

  Mind you, the great majority of our discussions go off without a hitch. But I find that the ones that don’t go well usually fail for a couple of particular reasons. The first scenario is a negotiation with the legend that is out of touch with the marketplace and their place in it, and the second is the modern wrestler that is out of touch with who they are. They’re easy to recognize and even easier to walk away from. One is a size 7 and the other is a size 11. Remember, I’m a 9.

  Quite a few years ago we were approached by Super Agent Eric Simms about the availability of WWE legend George “The Animal” Steele. He didn’t really fit into any of the series we had back at that time, but we did have a concept for an investigative special that he would have been able to do.

  I’d always wanted to probe the life of the wrestling road agent. In a layman’s example, back in the glory days of the sport they were the on-site supervisor at each arena. They fined late wrestlers, settled disagreements, ensured the matches went as prescribed, and reported all goings-on back to the office. It was a thankless and fascinating job. I thought a peek inside that job would be right up our fans’ alley, and George was a road agent in the late 80s.

  Simms told us up front what Steele’s fee would be. There was another shoot producer already committed to doing a project with him and they’d agreed to this fee. I wouldn’t move beyond our offer, which was about 20% below what Eric quoted me. I told him that was it—that was our price. I’d seen George interviewed before and he’s a great piece of talent. He would be very interesting. But for us, a title released under the investigative special umbrella is a bit of a risk because it doesn’t have the advantage of being an episode of an existing, multi-edition series that already has an established fan base. We can predict a sales baseline for a title like that. An investigative special will perform on the weight of a.) KC’s reputation, which will certainly get the ball rolling; b.) the size and attractiveness of the name attached to it, which in this case was marginal already, and would be further marginalized by the fact that we knew another producer would be releasing a title with him; and c.) the concept of the show, which was good, but rather narrow.

  This was a risk, but if we got Steele at a bargain and could block-book the production (shoot multiple shows in the same day and same location to amortize expenses over several shows), it would work.

  The talent’s rate didn’t work for us. The shoe size for this show was a 9. Given the price for George, the shoe being displayed was a 10 plus—an easy pass. Simms did his best at his assigned task, working on behalf of the talent. He reinforced the great stories this man had to tell. I whole-heartedly agreed with him. He would be a great interview. And it’s a shame he wouldn’t lower his rate to meet our price. And still, I pass.

  “But you know where I am if anything changes,” I said. “Let me know who else you have down the road, buddy.” Done. No games. No enmity. Everyone leaves with his dignity, and everyone’s shoes still fit.

  Some of the more modern-era talent are a different animal. Wrestlers of yesteryear, like George Steele and his contemporaries, wanted to be just that—wrestlers. Today, many young men and women do this as an entree to mainstream entertainment, or so they think. There are the extremely rare exceptions to the failure of the pro wrester to cross over, like The Rock and Steve Austin. These guys are incredibly charismatic and hit the lottery by being able to be as captivating on the big screen as they were in the ring and in promos. Can’t teach that stuff. And 99.9% of people don’t have it.

  Yet 99.9% of the young talent I talk to say things about “their career” and you best believe they’re not talking about their wrestling career. They see it as one big life in the public eye—in the ring, in movies and TV, and music. But they won’t have one. I’ve been in the mainstream entertainment business for over 20 years, on both sides of the camera. Professional wrestling carries with it zero respect in the entertainment business. As a matter of fact, it will be a strike against someone walking into an agent’s office proclaiming they’ll be a star because they are a big deal…in wrestling! I guess if WWE’s movie division keeps cranking out versions of The Marine there will always be some film work for them. But outside of
the insular wrestling sphere, not so much.

  Though I know this, many of the stars today do not. So their price always comes in very high once they are released from one of the big wrestling federations. They’re free of the restrictive contracts of WWE or TNA or wherever, and they prepare to get top dollar on the independent circuit. I happily pass on them. I know by waiting two years, as the dreams of record sales and movie roles fade, they’ll be available at half the price. Reality does my negotiating in these instances. All I have to say is, “No, thank you,” and it’s easier to do when you see the sales figures of modern era wrestlers for shoot programming. Our financial statements are probably the only place Brutus Beefcake out drew Alberto Del Rio 3-to-1.

  I don’t want to sound like I’m hostile toward the younger talent, and there is certainly a percentage that would be happy wrestling on the road forever. But it’s a very small percentage who actually want to be a wrestler forever. It’s really not these kids’ fault. They’re in a wrestling business now that desperately tries to posit itself as “sports entertainment” and make far-reaching attempts in the areas of movie production, football leagues, and other mainstream media. The wrestling is basically the same, the attractions are basically the same, and the fans are basically the same. The only ones that think they’re different are the people in the wrestling company.

  The epilogue of the George “The Animal” Steele story is that he was again offered to us a couple of years later. We now had a series in which he would fit—Timeline: The History of WWE. We could give him the year 1986 to profile, as he was pretty prevalent on TV working with Randy “Macho Man” Savage in an Elizabeth love angle. I returned Eric Simms’s call and named my price and terms.

  We got him 30% below the rate we were quoted two years prior.

  The conviction to walk away from the shoe store will also be fortified by the insight that time is a very powerful tool in negotiation. It is actually my favorite, because it is a naturally occurring process, nothing dirty to employ. In real estate it was a very revelatory asset. It peels away all the layers of bravado and stupidity and gets to the heart of the matter when you just sit on a deal and wait. If the other side is squirming, then it’s working.

  It’s not a dirty trick—it’s just water seeking out its level. If, in two or three years, the talent in any of my aforementioned examples is truly worth what their quote was, then they will be getting that figure from everyone and all projects will be making money, which justifies that rate. So in that case, time has proven the rate to be true, and they deserve that rate. But if that rate hasn’t proven true, and they’re wise, the fee will come down and they will be sitting across from me under the lights, ready to shoot something entertaining that illustrates their magnetic personality for all their future employers to see. I’m actually doing them a service. They should pay me.

  There is one final situation in which walking away, and quickly, is preferred. It’s not a matter of a shoe size, but rather a shoe-bomb. This is when, regardless of the deal you strike, either the talent or their representative are going to get in the way of your production. Regardless of whether or not you got a size 9, there’s a time bomb sitting in the thing and it’s going to blow your foot off.

  After the first edition of Missy Hyatt’s Pajama Party we actually tried to put some more editions of the show in the can. It was a gross deviation from brand, as we’ve already established, but for what it was—it worked. If the show had proven to be a hit, we probably would have kept going with it, and we are usually hesitant to cancel a series with less than three editions on the market anyway. Audiences could be slow to the concept, but it could gather steam. Perhaps the first guest on a series was the issue. If we have the resources, we could do a few and see what happens, but ultimately, whether or not we like it, the viewers are the final vote.

  In keeping with that philosophy, we planned at least one more episode of Missy Hyatt’s Pajama Party. So when I saw that lady wrestler Mickie James was doing the circuit, I reached out to the person handling her for an appearance in our area. I cannot remember the name of the man with whom I dealt, mainly because I never dealt with him again.

  We thought she would be a good guest for the next edition of Missy Hyatt’s Pajama Party. She was a decent size name at the time, had a fan following, and putting her with Missy might be fun. What the hell, let’s give it a whirl. I still wasn’t sure what this show was supposed to be. Mickie could have done a YouShoot of course, but I’m pretty cautious about booking women on that show. When a lady is sitting across from me, I can control the show. But YouShoots can be brutal with some of those fan questions and if I don’t know that a lady can roll with that, then I don’t want to take the chance.

  Is this a double standard? Yup. Is it easier for me to ask Lanny Poffo about the size of Argentina Rocca’s dick than it is to ask Maria Kanellis about the size of CM Punk’s? Yup. Should it be? I don’t know, but it is. Maybe it’s because I have daughters.

  Suffice it to say I knew I would have no problem with Tammy Sytch going along for the YouShoot ride, wherever that took us. Same goes for Missy Hyatt when she appeared on the show. Their reputations preceded them. I asked around about Amazing Kong and everyone said she was very cool and had a great sense of humor. They weren’t wrong—she was one of my favorite YouShoot guests ever and the only guest to have me bend her over on the set.

  Maria Kanellis was a bit of a question mark when we booked her. I didn’t know her and didn’t really get any feedback on her. Given that, I normally wouldn’t have reached out but she was extremely marketable at the time. She’d just finished a stint on The Celebrity Apprentice on NBC and dated CM Punk, who was a WWE star at the time. So I made the call.

  She was being brought in by a guy that we knew a little from the circuit. He was a cop up in Boston, a lieutenant no less, who did this talent booking on the side. At the time he had a big slate of lady wrestlers he was dealing with. Let’s call him Kevin.

  Our friend at Legends of the Ring, James Soubasis, vouched for Kevin and we booked Maria. Kevin proved to be a great agent and I always looked forward to booking through him. His deals were the quick handshake kind and he always delivered. His schedules stayed on track. He gave wrestlers the actual pitch from us, so there were never any surprises. I know for a fact that it was his selling that got guys like RVD, who didn’t want any part of the shoot programming world, to agree to work with us.

  But back then, for YouShoot: Maria Kanellis, we didn’t know Kevin. I actually went to him through James so I didn’t even talk with him. I just knew he was a serious guy, and was very protective of his lady wrestlers. He probably carried a gun.

  On the prescribed date he delivered Maria to the suite, collected the money, and sat down behind the cameras to watch the shoot. He was pretty quiet and just looked on with his crazy cop-eyes. And there I sat—a laptop before me loaded with questions regarding CM Punk’s dick, going lesbo with other girls, and a game called “Real or Fake.” We leave very little to the imagination.

  Throughout the show, as Maria giggled and cringed at what lay before her on the laptop screen, I kept looking over to Kevin who would lean forward when he didn’t know what Maria was watching, craning his neck toward us, his eyes darting between Maria and me. What the hell was he thinking?

  We took a ten-minute break in the shoot and Maria headed to the restroom. When she was out of sight, I looked over at Kevin. I couldn’t pretend this show wasn’t risqué at times, and Kevin piped up and said the first thing to me all day, in his thick Boston accent.

  “She’s hawt shit, ain’t she?”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, she was. She was laughing and having a great time and that was good enough for him. I think the gross-out factor is removed because guests eventually learn I’m a skilled host and though they might be talking about a wrestler’s Johnson, it’s all in good fun. There’s no creep factor. Just a guess. Missy Hyatt had a much cooler observation when I mentioned to her how surpr
isingly chill Maria was.

  “That’s because I could tell she digged you.” Great for the ego, though detached from reality. We won’t address the grammar.

  It came time to consider using Mickie James for our programming and I wasn’t sure how YouShoot would go, so we thought it would be safer for her to do Missy Hyatt’s Pajama Party with us for her first KC project. I reached out and texted the agent guy the details regarding our offer. This guy texted me back pretty quickly and it was clear I wasn’t dealing with an Eric Simms or Kevin the Bad Lieutenant.

  This mouth-breather texts me back in all caps, basically lambasting me for putting her on a pajama party show. He was rushing to the defense of the pinup girl he was undoubtedly whacking it to, and now fancied himself her representative. I’d hoped Mickie would have picked a virgin that could at least spell.

  This guy was no doubt a friend of some guy who was promoting a show somewhere who decided to handle bringing in a pretty star of the ring so he could stare at her all day. It’s sad but they’re out there. These oafs are in the business to either ogle women or hang out with Mick Foley. Maybe some want to ogle Mick too.

  I was sitting at a Japanese restaurant with my family and this became one of the unfortunate times some business related calamity arose and made me distant and short with them. Unless I handle the thing that is boring a hole in my stomach, I cannot rest. I told my wife I had to handle something and I called this dick. I politely tried to explain that he was unfamiliar with our programing and should reserve judgment until he knew with whom he was speaking.

  “You said you want her to be in bed with pajamas,” he began, “and I’m not gonna say that to her. She’s a women’s champion with a country album and—”