The Curse of the Royal Rumble IV: How Kevin Nash ruined everythingBy John Hancock| January 25, 2015 WWE Blogs Previous Page TNA: Competitiveness in the Pro-Wrestling Industry Pt. II It’s often overlooked, or at least taken for granted, exactly how strange the foundation of TNA was. The WWF officially purchased WCW (without Kevin Nash’s contract) on March 26th, 2001. On May 10th, 2002, Jeff Jarrett, one of WCW’s main-eventers during the company’s death throws, established TNA. And then everything got a bit weird. Since that point, both companies have been under the direction of Eric Bischoff and Vince Russo, both companies have involved highly publicised acquisitions of Hulk Hogan, both companies have had rather odd and self-destructive addictions to badly booked stables, both companies have failed to produce any real main event talents other than Goldberg (that’s 1-0 to WCW), both have had a somewhat challenging time getting the TV vs. PPV balance right, both were kept alive far beyond their natural life-span but non-wrestling billionaire benefactors, both companies created and then destroyed their only genuinely interesting divisions in a matter of years (lightweights and luchadors in WCW, Knockouts and the X-Division in TNA), both companies have put a large emphasis on Sting, Booker T, Ric Flair, Scott Steiner and, oh yes, Kevin Nash. As a future article on this site and a few book by Bryan Alvarez and a future rant by Dave Meltzer will eventual relate in full in a couple of years when TNA is finally dead in the ground, the history of what is apparently the second biggest wrestling federation in the English-speaking world has been an almost farcical comedy of errors ever so occasionally interrupted by some very good professional wrestling. The twisting coils of madness run so deep into the company’s heart that it’s very hard to know exactly who to blame. In a company containing Vince Russo, Eric Bischoff and Hulk Hogan, a cynic would feel almost spoilt for choice when it comes to spiteful finger pointing. Throw in pre-Christian Shawn Michaels, and you’d have pro-wrestling’s Mount Rushmore of being a dick. As such, it’s hard to honestly blame Kevin Nash for some of the things he was involved in with TNA, but a dead albatross doesn’t get to choice what sort of luck it brings and so the curse of Kevin Nash existing within TNA whether Nash went out of his way to manifest it or not. Some of Kevin Nash’s personal TNA highlights include his victory at, roughly, the age of 79, over AJ Styles (the man who is about the closest TNA ever came to achieving really anything at all, which is saying something), turning the entire X-Division into his (admitted very, very funny) comedy troupe, taking part in the Main Event Mafia, one of the most ill-thought out long term, main event angles in the history of 21st century pro-wrestling, and introducing Sean Waltman and Scott Hall to the company, who subsequently behaved exactly like you’d expect them to. His work done, and TNA now just a hollowed out husk of what it could have possibly been, Kevin Nash, happy with a job well done, moved on, and the curse moved with him. Epilogue: Himself According to the legend of the bronze bull, King Phalaris of Sicily once commodes the Greek inventor Perillos to build a new torture devise and the creation Perillos brought back was so cruel, so horrific, so inhuman, and Phalaris decreed that Perillos himself should burn inside it. Having not learnt the lesson he himself had just taught someone, Phalaris used the bronze bull against his political enemies until they rose up, overthrew him, and turned the King’s cruelest weapon upon the King himself. Anyway, back to Kevin Nash. Like Regan MacNeil before him, it seems the curse that lurks within Kevin Nash’s soul is now turning against him. In 2002, whilst working with the WWE, Nash received the most pro-wrestling of pro-wrestling injuries, the torn quadriceps, an injury shared by both Vince McMahon and Triple H. Torn quadriceps are a common injury for the elderly, but relatively rare in those under the age of 50, unless those individuals have a history of don’t make us say it, we don’t have lawyers. In 2009, Nash was diagnosed with a staph infection, a particularly nasty, and occasionally fatal, bacteria common in athletes and bodybuilders due to it’s ability to live and thrive on gym equipment. And, along with physical bad luck, came personal bad luck too. In late 2014, Nash was arrested for domestic assault and immediately suspended by the WWE. However, the charges were almost immediately dropped, and the suspension was lifted, but the damage was already done. Nash was so offended, that he took to Twitter, berating WWE’s heavy-handedness in the situation and threatening to quit WWE television (spoiler: he didn’t). And that may be the crux of the entire issue. Did Kevin Nash destroy kayfabe? Did Kevin Nash destroy WCW? Did Kevin Nash destroy TNA? No, of course not, Kevin Nash is but a man, the physical, mortal host of something far greater and more terrible. Kevin Nash isn’t a curse, he’s the victim of a curse. A reverse-Midas, cursed to wander the deserts of pro-wrestling as everything he touches collapsing to dust around him. His WWF career, the company he booked, the company he worked for, his career-reviving feud with CM Punk and, now, Kevin Nash himself. So now we have to ask ourselves the question we’ve all been to scared to ask; has the curse of Kevin Nash replaced the curse of the number 14… or have they combined? A mutant, hybrid curse, more powerful than any of us could ever imagine, poised to destroy professional wrestling as we know it? There’s only one way to find out. Watch the 2015 WWE Royal Rumble. Watch out for the number 14. And watch out for Kevin Nash.
