The Business of Kayfabe

by Sean Oliver

  The innovation of that series was born out of our passion for that programming—we identified what that segment needed but beyond that, market research was needed for insight into the preferences of our viewers. The decisions that helped us steer and shape the series as it developed were made entirely from listening to the viewing preferences of our fans. Initially the booking exercises were a sizable portion of the first episodes. But we were seeing reviews and feedback that were largely critical of the success and feasibility of the booker’s exercise. So we felt we needed to spend less time on the booking exercise and more time profiling the booker’s mind and his philosophy.

  Guess what the feedback was? “Where’s all the booking?”

  We then had to deal with a segment of viewers who felt cheated that they weren’t seeing a bunch of actual booking. The market research showed a conflicting message—too bland and too spicy at the same time. We realized the magic would be in a special blend of the two, and that’s what we developed for future Guest Bookers.

  So the innovation is born in The Blood. The market and your passionate knowledge of it, and participation in it, will guide your product to glory. Just listen to it. And if the consumers feel version 2.0 needs a smaller handle, put it on.

  11. Differentiation is a Promise

  AT KC WE seek to distinguish ourselves from other production companies in the wrestling space in more ways than just the kind of programming we produce. When you are a guest on a KC show, we want you to have a First Class experience. Earlier I mentioned the lengths to which we went during the Bret Hart edition of Timeline. I know how some of these guys and gals are treated by promoters and production companies in our space, and our differentiation from them is important. The vast majority of the time we succeed.

  One of the times we flew Vince Russo out to shoot with us, I had to entrust a third party with Vince’s pickup from the airport and delivery to our set. I was tied up shooting other shows and Vince would be landing in Newark in late afternoon. I knew another promoter had talent doing airport runs, so I asked if he could have someone handle Vince. We would be doing that promoter’s show the following evening, so it was pertinent to his indie federation’s business as well.

  I was between shoots when I got a call from Vince, who had just landed.

  “Bro, are you here?” he asked. I told him I wasn’t but the promoter had dispatched one of his young wrestlers to pick up Vince. Last text I saw from him said he would meet Vince by baggage.

  A few minutes go by and my phone rings again.

  “Bro, there’s no one here,” Russo says.

  “I just saw a text from the kid, he’s coming in the terminal now. Just hang for a minute, he’ll get to you.”

  Two minutes later.

  “Bro…there ain’t no one here.” I’m dying. I guess the kid had to get gas or something so he got there a little late. I didn’t know the kid, but this indie promoter was bringing in talent all the time. I had no reason to doubt he’d be able to arrange a pickup.

  I got a text saying the kid sees Russo. I call him.

  “He should be right there, Vince. He sees you.”

  “Bro, I still don’t see anyone. Oh, hang on…okay he’s here.” With a sigh, I tell the crew Vince is on his way and we should grab a bite at Yogi’s. I’ll now be able to eat without a stomach ache, as the talent is secured and on his way.

  Not five minutes goes by and I’m getting a call from Russo again. Flat tire? Lost? What now?

  “Bro, this guy has no windshield wipers and it’s pouring outside. I’m making him pull over—can you send someone else?”

  I was fit to be tied. We’d worked with Vince before so I wasn’t worried about first impressions, but we still always wanted a top-notch experience with our guests and I didn’t know if it was Vince being a prima donna or if this kid was as mentally challenged as was being proposed.

  “I’m coming. Tell me where you are.”

  “He’s pulling into a gas station.” Vince gave me the address of the station just off the N.J. Turnpike in Elizabeth. I told the team to enjoy dinner and I stormed out of the hotel and into my car. In minutes I was on the Turnpike North, heading from Monroe to Elizabeth, about a half-hour ride, possibly even more due to the downpour. I just wanted to get there and tell this kid what an idiot he was.

  Well, I couldn’t. When I arrived at the gas station flagged in my GPS, there was no other car waiting. It was really coming down outside and I looked around thinking I may have landed in a gas station across the street from where I was supposed to be. No, this was the one—seemingly dropped in the middle of a knot of highways onramps, offramps, and jam packed, flooded roads during metropolitan area rush hour. What the hell?

  Finally I pulled my car past the pumps and there, inside the little convenience store, leaning on the window with his suitcase, was Vince Russo. The former head writer for WWE, WCW, and TNA, was leaning on the glass, looking like a wayward hitchhiker. The fucking kid didn’t even wait with him! He pulled into a gas station, dropped Russo off in a torrential downpour, and left.

  I jumped out and headed to the store as Russo came out. I was beyond apologetic and tried to grab his bag and carry it, like some youngboy in Japan. Wasn’t that some sign of wresting respect? I don’t know. I seem to remember hearing “carrying my bags” used as a pecking order thing. Well, that night I was beyond embarrassed and probably would have carried Vince himself if I could.

  “I got it, bro, I got it,” he said as I grabbed for his suitcase. We dodged puddles and finally made it inside my car. Vince was good natured about it—I’m sure he’s seen it all in his years, and he already knew that our company rolled a little differently than had been shown that day. He knew there was a true differentiation between KC and others in our field.

  Once Vince knew that his original driver wasn’t associated with us in any way, he told me the full story. The kid had garbage piled in the backseat so high that the rear window wasn’t even visible. Imagine being sent to the airport to pick up a celebrity and being okay with that situation? Being a slob is one thing, but being so clueless is quite another.

  While they were driving, the rain and chilly air was causing a fair amount of fogging on the windshield. That, coupled with the water streaming down, made for impossible visibility. This numb nuts grabs a rag—

  “…Bro, a freakin’ rag…”

  —and rolls down his window, reaches outside, and starts wiping off the windshield from the outside as he drives on the New Jersey Turnpike in rush hour! Vince asked him about the wipers and was told they didn’t work. I then understood why Vince asked to be dropped off. He would’ve been killed before he got to Exit 12.

  Later when I spoke with the promoter about the debacle he did confirm the kid was a bit of a shithead. I thanked the promoter for choosing him for me. He then told me his locker room was little upset that Vince was being brought in. Some workers were threatening to not work at the show.

  “You kidding me?” I said. “They make $50 a show. And they’re making threats?”

  “I told them it was you bringing him in and not me. So they’re gonna wrestle.”

  “Jesus, thank God,” I said. “You would’ve really been screwed without Hulk Hogan working your Rahway Recreation Center show.” Not sure if he appreciated the sarcasm, but this news about his unhappy locker room was A.) the stupidest thing I’d ever heard from an indie wrestling company and B.) a sideways justification for treating my guest less than professionally. It illustrates the particular species of bottom feeder that permeates the independent wrestling scene.

  It should be rather obvious that differentiation is not difficult for us as far as talent relations is concerned. We always treated our talent very differently than competitors. But all of that is invisible to the consumer. Your reputation within your industry is important because, though you may not specifically deal with talent in your Business of Blood, you’ll probably have vendors, suppliers, and a dozen other relationships you need
to maintain. Just be reliable in your business practices and that’ll probably differentiate you from many of your competitors.

  However, the most obvious and important form of differentiation with which you’ll be concerned is in your market, for your customers. There are a lot of options out there for any product, service, or show. You want people to choose yours, so you have to go about creating a reason for that.

  As you’re considering why anyone would want to visit your business, you have to introduce the extension to that question which is, “…with all these other businesses standing beside mine?” The question is really “How will we be noticed?” In the physical sense, there’s marketing and advertising, which we’ll delve into. But these practices only get a business seen. That’s a little different from being noticed. You actually need someone to walk into your store, whether virtual or brick and mortar, and have their experience be memorable.

  Don’t discount the “memorable” part of that. Once they’re inside, you’re not out of the woods—you still run the risk of not being noticed. In a store of any kind, the décor, pricing, products, lighting, music, and the overall shopping experience will paint a definitive picture. How much distinguishability is there really from clothing store to clothing store? The ones that do show a strong and unique differentiation are probably the most successful stores.

  In Seth Godin’s amusing book The Purple Cow, he uses that very mental image to illustrate that getting noticed starts with differentiation. He tells a tale of a long drive wherein the cow fields all begin to blur in our eyesight after a time—until we see a purple cow, that is. Its novelty certainly makes one take notice and start talking to the other people in the car.

  The spirit of Godin’s fable is certainly accurate—one must work to distinguish their company and brand. But there’s an inherent promise in that differentiation. That cow has given us some subtle expectations. The cow’s milk might be purple. It also could taste like grape. There’s an expectation in seeing a purple cow, if it is to be a fully realized experience. It should fulfill its big promise, or else it is only a freakish defect. The only thing that’s truly unique is the coat of hair. (Fur? Gotta brush up on my animal science.)

  A product’s differentiation has to come in the fulfillment of its promise. A quick, :15 second television promo for an NBA basketball game will likely show the stars of the teams that will meet—say the Lakers and Celtics—making remarkable shots, blocks, and dunks. The promo ends with a triumphant, fists raised shot of some players. We’re also given the air date and time of the game on that network.

  What are the promises they’ve made to us? Firstly, we’re promised that we’ll see the Lakers play the Celtics if we tune in. Secondly, we are promised marquee stars on both teams that will be playing in that game, and they’re capable of the impressive shots, blocks, and dunks that keep you and me on the couch, and them on NBA hardwood. We’re then shown a triumphant ending shot with fists raised, guaranteeing us that there will be a winner. Lastly, the date and time guarantee that we’ll be able to see this game if we clear our appointments for that evening, or at least set the DVR.

  The NBA and the television network must now fulfill all those promises. But if we tune in at 8 o’clock that night and the two last place teams were playing instead of the Celtics and Lakers, dropping passes and missing shots all over the place, we’d have an unfulfilled promise. They showed the Lakers and Celtics in the promo in an effort to woo us. Further, if the promo never explicitly said “Lakers versus Celtics” but instead said just, “NBA Basketball” but they showed only those two teams, there’s an implied promise. If they tricked us into tuning in, we most certainly aren’t going to continue watching, and we’ll probably discard any of those future NBA promos for that network. They may have shown us a purple cow in the promo, but the milk is ordinary and we’re going to view the differentiation as a defect.

  When Vince Russo first left TNA after having written for wrestling companies since the mid 90s, we snagged him for a live show. We had the YouShoot: LIVE model in effect since we did an episode with Dixie Carter, the head of TNA Wrestling. Since YouShoots open up the questioning to the fans, we saw that we could do episodes with live audiences, wherein people would question the lighting rods we intended to feature, in person.

  We flew Vince out to shoot some promos after announcing the show, and they went well. One of the promos we shot featured a short, sit down interview with me and him. Though the humorous, scripted promos we shot were fun, Anthony and I knew we needed to address what everyone would be thinking when they heard about this show. So we decided to ask him those questions pointedly, on camera. I asked him what he expected from the show. I asked him if he would be honest and name names. We wanted to let the fans know he wasn’t going to play nice and hold back after seeing his name set aflame for the previous 15 years.

  We ran all the promos but the murmurs persisted, same as the ones from Dixie’s shoot—”He won’t bury anyone.” “They won’t ask hard questions.” On and on and on. The thing that always floored me was that I was brutal to Dixie with fan questions and videos for her YouShoot LIVE. But that truth was ignored and the basement trolls reported we went soft on her. You can’t win.

  But two things happened that proved the Internet trolls correct in the Vince Russo case—he didn’t name names, and the live audience was loaded with Russo marks. I mean loud, boisterous defenders of Vince and his product. At one point we had to have security ask the front row to quiet down. No one in the house confronted him with anything that could have sparked some interesting debate. We invited the press to join us in person or via Internet. No one of note did.

  We’d failed to keep our promise. I was sitting on the stage across from him and when he said, “I don’t wanna call him out” about someone, and I died inside. I was suddenly a fan watching this at home, and I was annoyed. This was the most controversial figure in the sport at the time. Our live iPPV was laying an egg. At least New Jack showed up and asked a question.

  Differentiation carries with it a huge responsibility to fulfill the promise. As consumers, we’ll even pay a premium for a fulfilled promise if it is advertised consistently. If an upscale restaurant moves onto the strip with a unique façade, soft ambient music, fashionably dressed staff, tasteful low light, and a minimalist menu and the food matches the promise, we will leave feeling fulfilled. We probably paid a premium price to eat at a restaurant like that, but if that promise was fulfilled and the experience is deemed wholly accurate, the price was justified.

  At Kayfabe Commentaries, our differentiation comes in the uniqueness of our programming, quality of our shows, and our commitment to customer service. Russo ducked the questions at the live show, yes. But I’m cutting us a break on that one. There was no way for us to know how he’d answer. He’s since made up for that by doing some great, insightful programming like his two editions of Timeline and his Guest Booker.

  The concepts behind our shows are like none you’ve ever seen in the shoot market. If we only had that differentiation but we didn’t deliver on our promise, a customer would put in our show, see a product with sub-par production values, a lame concept, a bad interviewer, and they’d be done with us. Further, if the DVD took four weeks to arrive, or if they contacted us with a question about our streaming service and we didn’t respond for two days, that would also challenge our ability to earn their business on a consistent basis. But our promise is as important to us as our differentiation. Yes, we loved lighting the world on fire with bold concepts like Guest Booker, YouShoot, and Timeline, but we also place strenuous emphasis on fulfilling our promise of high production values and amazing service.

  It all goes back to The Blood. As passionate fans, we knew that a fair segment of the shoot interview industry suffered from poor production values, a lack of conceptual ingenuity, and lackluster customer service. I have yet to meet a KC customer that felt we didn’t fulfill our promise as we differentiated ourselves from the pack. You may not
have liked what a particular guest on a Guest Booker did for the booking exercise, but I guarantee you that you’ve never seen a show like it. Further I guarantee that it was shot, mic’ed, lit, scored, hosted, and edited to broadcast quality, and also that it arrived at your house quickly. (Outside the U.S., give us a week or so. A German customer told me that our DVDs arrive to his house before mail order items from within Germany. That stuff gets me psyched.)

  Take a second and think about the greats in your life—your favorite products, favorite athlete, a great lover. They have all differentiated themselves from the pack somehow, but they’ve also delivered on their promise. If they hadn’t, you would have stopped using the products, wearing their jersey, or dating them.

  12. Personalization

  THIS BLOOD BOND between customer and company has its roots in their shared passion. Beyond that, the strengthening and reinforcement comes from the production of great product. But there’s also a subtle, psychological element that puts lots of weight in the customer experience. Ask yourself how much personalization your company has. Do your customers know they’re dealing with actual people when they have points of contact with your company? For all the talk of automation these days, one should tread carefully when it comes to customer service. It’s one of the few touches you have with your customers. Don’t screw it up.

  There’s nothing more frustrating than being treated like a commodity. We kind of expect this impersonal treatment from mass-market suppliers, like your cell phone company or health insurance provider. But a Business of Blood has been built on the premise of community and kinship. A Business of Blood has that insight into the fan’s mind. We should know better. We can’t expect them to take to the streets for us on the one hand, and expect to depersonalize them on the other.