On June 12 this year (2014), WWE released nine wrestlers and two on-screen officials in a single day. John Lister explores the cuts process and what happens next for those given the bad news.
“WWE has come to terms on the release of [insert name]. WWE wishes them all the best in all their future endeavours.”
With those 20 words, careers take a turn. It may not always be terminal, but in the post-WCW era the call informing a wrestler that he or she is being let go is a severe blow to their chances of future success.
Promoters getting rid of wrestlers has, of course, always happened but historically it has been more of a case-by-case process. The closest thing to a “cut season” in the 1980s and 1990s was that wrestlers were more likely to get released in the late spring and early summer when WrestleMania season was over and management had more time and attention to evaluate the roster.
During the Monday Night War era of competition and guaranteed contracts, it was even rarer for Vince McMahon and company to release even lower card talent while they were still under contract. That policy was very publicly abandoned in November 2004 when the company shocked wrestlers and fans alike by releasing numerous wrestlers in the space of a few days. That started a trend for semi-annual rounds of cuts during which under-used wrestlers prayed their phone would not ring.
Recently it seemed WWE had returned to the philosophy of simply waiting until an out-of-favour performer’s contract expired. That change of heart was apparently based on a belief that an increasing number of hours of TV to fill meant having a full crew wrestlers on hand at any moment was paramount, even more so given the deliberate decision to slow the rate of call-ups from developmental to avoid diluting the impact of newcomers.
Whether this June’s round of cuts marks a return to the old days remains to be seen. It’s been sold as a cost-cutting measure in the light of impending heavy losses as the WWE Network takes off slower than expected and the expected TV rights fee bonanza failed to materialise. In reality it’s unlikely to make a difference to the bottom line.
The contracts of those released are unlikely to have totalled even a couple of million dollars a year, making little dent in the projected losses of $50 million or so for the current financial year. But as Vince McMahon is said to be fond of noting, “perception is reality” and a dozen or so roster cuts may sound like a prudent financial move by a company trying to placate stockholders.
This year’s layoff represented around 15 percent of the regular male roster, a process that might sound comparable to a company making redundancies among employees. That’s not the case here, however: in most situations the wrestlers will be replaced by newcomers from NXT and the roster positions themselves have not been eliminated. (The last time such a thing truly happened was in 1990 when WWE cut down from three to two house shows each night.)
Indeed, redundancy is not an issue because wrestlers are not legally classed as employees but rather independent contractors, and ones whose contract puts them at a strong disadvantage. Unless WWE agrees, wrestlers normally cannot quit until the end of their contract period. Even then, they must give notice in the final 90 days before the contract’s expiry date; failure to do so means the contract automatically renews for 12 months. (A wrestler can of course refuse to take any bookings, though what effect that has on the contract’s duration is a disputed issue that may soon be resolved in the case of CM Punk.) WWE, however, can end the contract at any time, for any reason or without giving a reason.
That isn’t to say wrestlers don’t get an explanation. Several victims of the cuts process have recalled hearing the words “Creative has nothing for you.” It’s a phrase so familiar it has become the title of a Colt Cabana web video series, and is accepted by most without comment. One notable exception was Chris Kanyon who, told the creative department had nothing for him, told then-talent relations head John Laurinaitis that “Well, maybe you should be firing them and not me.” Perhaps unsurprisingly, Kanyon never returned to WWE.
According to former WWE creative team member Court Bauer, however, the phrase was misleading at best. “That was a device used by Talent Relations to pass the heat. They then were in the more favourable position on the call. I get it but 9 out of 10 times was not true. We were often not even part of the conversation. Not always but not often. At the end of the day, nobody but the Chairman [Vince McMahon] has final call on who is terminated. ”
Indeed, Bauer notes that those creative team members not in upper management were often in the dark about impending cuts, in some bitterly ironic cases meaning the ideas they did have for the performer went by the wayside. “More often than not we would not be made aware in advance. Of course, if talent gets in a bad way politically or there’s misconduct leading to major heat you [aren’t surprised] when you are informed about a release. However, typically the creative team would often would discover who was released by reading WWE.com. Ideally it’d behoove an already beleaguered creative process to have this information or be a part of the conversation [about potential cuts] in advance but that isn’t how the department is run, unfortunately.”
Whatever the reason for the departure, the fact remains that for many wrestlers it can spark the end of their career at the top level. It’s one of the more negative consequences of the demise of the territory system and the genuine WWE-WCW competition of the 1990s. Leaving WWE means a wrestler stands a good chance of no longer being able to put together a full-time schedule to keep sharp in the business.
WWE does encourage departing wrestlers to continue pursuing their craft. Former talent relations executive Jim Ross, who has described informing wrestlers of their release as the hardest part of their job, told FSM of his advice for wrestlers hoping to be rehired: ” Steer the course if that’s their goal and don’t quit. Think of what their plan B might be or is. Stay positive. The world doesn’t end when one leaves WWE. ”
The problem is that the odds are very much against those who get cut. Where once a wrestler could easily put together a 30-year career working a couple of years at a time in each territory, it’s now possible for a wrestler in their 20s to know their career has effectively peaked.
Of the roughly 50 male performers who were released for non-disciplinary reasons between 2009 and 2013, just one — Goldust — has returned to WWE as a wrestler. Going back even further reveals a similar pattern: just a handful of those released ever make it back to the WWE roster.
Indeed, the records of former WWE employees disproves a popular theory: that after being cut, a wrestler will greatly harm his chances of being rehired by going to TNA rather than patching together a schedule between the US indys, Europe and Japan. In fact there’s no evidence it makes any real difference to the already slim chances.
Whatever a wrestler’s ultimate destination after being cut, their immediate options are restricted. Any time a contract ends early (whether through a round of cuts, or when a wrestler’s request for a release is granted), WWE continues paying the wrestler for the next 90 days.
Officially, during this time the wrestler should not be performing elsewhere. In practice, WWE usually allows wrestlers to take independent dates immediately, barring only appearances for groups designated as being competition on television or pay-per-view, a classification that includes TNA and, at times, Ring of Honor. It should be noted that technically this no-compete clause is un-enforcable: a released wrestler has the right to go to TNA immediately but would have to give up three months worth of pay (and merchandise royalties) to do so. Now, more than ever, it’s unlikely TNA could offer enough to make such a decision worthwhile.
The independent circuit brings its own pros and cons. For those with an established WWE name, travel expenses and even accommodation are often covered in a way that doesn’t happen in the big league. Some wrestlers are also able to charge high rates — indeed, Daniel Bryan has noted he wound up earning more during his enforced return to the indies in 2010 (after being fired over his actions in the Nexus debut angle) than he’d been making under his WWE contract.
In some cases wrestlers may even jack up their asking price in the hope of capitalising on their WWE fame before the novelty wears off. Preston City Wrestling promoter Steven Fludder says that in his experience this can be a short-sighted mistake: “The ones who do that are short sighted as then promoters don’t bring the talent back. Last guy to do that was John Morrison and he was hot at the time but where do you see him now? AJ Styles is similar and you can see his bookings are thinning out now. Say their fee was half then both would have been considered to be brought back.”
Returning to the indy scene also brings more logistical headaches. Unlike WWE where a wrestler is handed a schedule, independent wrestlers must negotiate their own bookings, considering not just the dates, transport and payoff, but also the risk that a shadier promoter may not come through with the cash.
One of the bigger challenges a newly-released wrestler faces is combating the stigma of having being portrayed as of little value. While wrestling fans may be wise to how the business works, a string of losses or unfavorable portrayals can still hurt a performer’s perceived star status, particularly if it has sparked a vicious cycle in which his or her confidence takes a knock.
Of the most recent crop, perhaps the most extreme example is Drew McIntyre and Jinder Mahal. FSM statistician Chris Harrington calculated that as a combined unit, 3MB had the worst record of any regular WWE tag team since 1994. After an initial eight-match win streak in 2012, the group’s record in tag and six-man matches is a shocking four wins and sixty-five losses.
What effect that has on marketability may depend on the audience. Fludder notes that there’s no hard and fast rule. “It’s all about exposure and not about wining and losing. Look at Santino: he must lose twice as much as he wins and mostly is lower card but he has been given lots of TV time to develop a character that the audience enjoys. My audience just wants entertainment by a guy who enjoys wrestling and not just about the payday.”
The alternative to being portrayed in a negative light is not being featured at all. Court Bauer recalls that although there was rarely if ever a concerted effort to harm a wrestler’s marketability before cutting them, those eventually laid off were often a victim of “a lack of interest to present the talent. Sometimes it was lack of support to get them in the mix in matches or simple pre-tapes/backstage segments – and good luck getting the booked on the road for house shows. ”
Unless you are fortunate, talented or lucky enough to become irreplaceable, there may be no sure-fire way to avoid the dreaded cut. Yet one man seems to have had the secret. Jayson “JTG” Paul was originally laid off in 2007 but rehired a year later. As each new round of cuts was announced, it became a running joke that he must have been forgotten about to somehow keep his job.
He remained employed despite virtually disappearing from television. In the entire final 18 months of his run he worked just two house shows and three episodes of Superstars. Yet even when the axe finally fell, he still managed to unwittingly delay his departure a few hours thanks to a company policy not to publicise a cut until the wrestler had been informed.
As he noted on Twitter: “Damn! Why I pick up my phone!”
