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Commentary April 05, 2021

The Night I Opened a Merch Store … And Lost My Hair

A televised wrestling match, an insult and a bet – Senior Writer John Corrigan explains how it led to his first promotional products order.

By  John Corrigan

I spent the night before Easter getting my eggs scrambled inside a wrestling ring.

In addition to working for ASI Media, I run The Wrestling Estate – a news outlet that covers the wacky world of professional wrestling, primarily in Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Delaware. One of the wrestlers – local heavyweight champion Joey Ace – took umbrage with an article I wrote about his devious nature and responded by insulting my appearance, specifically my long hair. I was so confident that he was going to lose the championship at the next event that I wagered my luscious locks.

As soon as Ace accepted my offer, only one thought crossed my mind:

I need some branded merch.

Pro wrestling and promotional products have a rich history together dating back to World War II, when the iconic Gorgeous George distributed branded bobby pins (“Georgie Pins”) to the audience before his matches. In the 1970s, custom T-shirts played a pivotal role in two popular storylines: Greg Valentine sported a “I Broke Wahoo’s Leg” shirt after injuring the beloved Wahoo McDaniel and Terry Funk wore a “Dusty Sucks Eggs” shirt after insisting his rival was an “egg-sucking dog.”

Pro wrestling merchandise exploded in the Eighties as part of WWE’s national expansion. T-shirts, hats, jackets, belt buckles, action figures, video cassettes, even ice cream bars were plastered with the then-WWF logo. Fans could swing by the merchandise stand at live events or sign up to receive the company’s catalog in their mailbox. Merch was a new revenue source for wrestlers and helped propel WWE into the global juggernaut it is today.

Wrestlemania official merchandise outdoor store

WWE sets up shop outside the Mercedes-Benz Superdome as part of WrestleMania 34.

For wrestlers not signed to contracts with major companies, merchandise accounts for a large part of their income. Before matches and during intermission, they’ll set up tables outside the ring to interact with fans and hopefully sell their goods. During the COVID-19 pandemic, these independent wrestlers relied on selling their merchandise online because there were no events.

These days, everyone associated with pro wrestling has their own T-shirt: announcers, referees, podcasters, reporters, social media influencers, you name it. The Wrestling Estate team had considered selling our own T-shirt, but I always nixed the idea. Even though we had established credibility over the past three years, we were a faceless identity to most of our readers. They may read our articles and follow our Twitter, but do they care enough to buy our shirt?

With our shoestring budget, it didn’t seem like a wise investment. Until now.

Being involved in the show, which would be streamed live on IndependentWrestling.TV, was the perfect opportunity to get branded T-shirts. The event was scheduled for April 3, so I began the process in mid-January hoping that it was plenty of time for a distributor to create the artwork, produce the shirts and ship them to my home in Bristol, PA.

I reached out to Jeremy Picker, co-founder and CEO of Lakewood, CO-based AMB3R (asi/590243), because of his active social media presence and past work. With his background in the music industry, managing merchandise for bands and selling T-shirts at concerts, he’d understand the aesthetic I was aiming for. I also wanted to namedrop that the same company that made our T-shirt produced Conan O’Brien’s podcast merch. Team Coco unite!

Picker replied right away, eager to work on the project. As far as the design went, I offered him a blank canvas – I only asked for a black T-shirt, the standard for wrestling shirts. A week later, he sent me two concept sketches for a new logo and it was love at first sight. Inspired by various championship belts, Picker and his designer developed a logo that paid tribute to the sport’s past while symbolizing The Wrestling Estate as the gold standard in wrestling journalism. One month later, 100 beautiful T-shirts arrived in a giant box on my front porch.

Woman and two men outside selling Wrestlemania t-shirts

The Wrestling Estate team outside The Jersey Dugout in Morganville, NJ.

I brought that box to The Jersey Dugout in Morganville, NJ this past Saturday. My team and I (all wearing the shirts) set up a table outside the venue and greeted fans before the action. The design was a big hit in person and on social media, earning compliments from fans and wrestlers alike. We also had front row seats, so our brand received maximum exposure all night long.

Of course, the end of the night wasn’t so fun, in which Ace successfully defended his championship and I lost my 17-inch caramel mane.

Despite still being sore from Ace blindsiding me, the event was a tremendous success in terms of publicity. The Wrestling Estate’s views skyrocketed overnight and throughout the next day, and we’ve gained new followers on our social media accounts. We’ve sold some shirts, too.

But now that my head looks like an undyed egg, I’m already planning our next promo product: baseball caps!