Chapter View

We're Still Here?

The Curse of Moving

The Ability to Adapt



Where Do We Go

Semantics / Pipe Dreams

Rites of Passage

Mistakes & Beer

Kick Start

Reality Check

Rules of Attraction

On The Road Again


Nova Is My Constant


“A familiar face?”

(FADE IN: The sun shines bright in the blue Birmingham sky. Seated at a wooden picnic table several feet from a barbecue stand, gripping a gooey pork sandwich in white-knuckle delight, is the Greensboro Greenhorn and potential #1 Contender to the CSWA Unified Championship, NOVA. He takes a bite, wipes his beard with six or seven napkins, and grins into the camera.)

NOVA: “Mr. Ryan, I’m afraid I don’t know you. OH! Before I forget…I just want to thank ERON THE RELENTLESS and TROY WINDHAM for stepping aside and realizing that legend status in the company or a third-place finish in GOLD RUSH don’t automatically entitle anyone to a hand-out. Bravo on both of your displays of our Constitutionally-guaranteed right NOT to act. But enough on that, back to the guy who actually realizes what’s at stake here.

“Dan, I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’ll leave it at that rather than refute each individual claim of our apparently storied history. You’re confused. Sh*t, dude, I feel you. There are days I wake up and can’t remember my f*ckin’ NAME. But some of the things you said did resonate with me, and I’d like to address them in turn…”

(NOVA takes another bite from his sandwich (it’ll be stone-cold by the time he’s done yammering) and shuffles a cigarette out of his pack.)

NOVA: “I know of you, Dan. I know that for all your accomplishments in the CSWA, you can rival them with accolades from other corners of the wrestling world. You hold the A1E World Championship, and I’m the PRIME Universal Champion, and yet we both realize that the draw of the Unified Title is different, isn’t it? It isn’t a quest to pad our resumes. It isn’t for the fans, as much as the lingering memory of their cheers softens the pains in my joints in the morning. Your championing of the Unified Title, and my goal of competing for it…in the end it’s for us, right? In a different way than with other belts…it’s about you, and it’s about me, and it’s about saying ‘F*ck what anyone says, this is what the Unified strap means to me,’ and that’s good enough to go out there and drop a couple of pints on the canvas.

“It’s also about the sense of impermanence that permeates the every pore of this industry…you touched on that as well, Dan. Paper towers spring up on every corner, proclaiming the Wrestling Revolution Be Nigh, a NEW experience that will change the way YOU see professional wrestling! They all crumble into paperweights before long, don’t they, Mr. Ryan? Even your A1E, NAPW…they won’t see the golden side of two decades, not like the CSWA has. My PRIME, PTC as an institution of this business…eventually they’ll be chapters of varying length in the book of our profession’s history. My career is pocked with companies that literally sprang up and shut down in the span of a couple of months. For all the blood I gave, all the overnight bus rides, what those belts meant to me personally…those promotions are a blur, like the memory of a great party where you got drunk too early. Federations come and go…but the CSWA remains, largely unaffected by the churning and roiling of the seas of Progress – or regression, in the case of pro wrestling in the 21st century. In short, I feel compelled to attach myself to this company’s stability, even in times as dark as these.”

“Now I can hear the grumbling coming from a mile away. ‘Oh, jeez…this kid smokes two joints, gets a CSWA house show booking, and all of a sudden he’s Greensboro to the bitter, bloody end.’ Well, maybe that’s the case, but it’s about time someone gave a sh*t about this place. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the CSWA is sick. As a f*cking dog. And if you need more proof, find your way backstage at the next show and look at Ivy McGinnis’ eyes.”