“Hey, you're the guy. The one wears the suit on WWE.”

That's me. Vince.” They shook hands,

“Tamas.” He straightened his red shirt.

“Glad to meet you, Tamas. You must be a wrestling fan?”

“I watch, sometimes.” said Tamas. “I've been into Hockey lately, what with the Olympics.”

“Hell,” said Vince. “Everybody in the world was into that game. What a finish.”

“Action's what I liked. What a battle.”

Vince flopped down in a chair. “Now this.” He put his head back against the wall. “Hope everything works out well here. Had a check up last week, getting my results today. It's for insurance. Don't want me dropping dead in the middle of negotiations. Insurance people, always a pain. We're starting a new venture.” He smiled. “But hell, I'm in good shape. Everyone can see I'm in good shape. Normal aches and pains. But hey.”

“Got these bumps on my forehead,” said Tamas. “More cosmetic than anything. Doc's going to check them out.”

Vince squirmed in the chair. “Been getting this pain in my lower back, but I think that came from getting slammed a few times too many. I'm no Ric Flair, you know.”

Tamas leaned over. “Doctors always looking for cancer. They want to scare you, keep you coming back, good for business. I called to make an appointment, they fax me this long list of questions. Nothing but scare tactics. I'm fine. Doc's gotta pay for his new Bentley. ” He folded his arms, and shook his head.

A man in a white coat pushed through the door, waving a clipboard.

“Doc, what?” said Vince. “Healthy as a horse, right? Look at me.”

The doctor hesitated, looked down at his clipboard, then back at Vince.

“Oops!” said Tamas. “There's that doctor look. Everything's so damn serious.”

“You gotta give me a clean bill of health, Doc," said Vince. “Got this insurance stuff I have to pass. I'm starting a new venture. New hockey league.”

“Boy, wasn't that good, the Olympics.” said the Doc. “You know, I invested most of an entire day in that game and I don't even like Hockey. Born and raised in Phoenix.” He unclipped an x-ray and held it up to the light. His eyes narrowed.

“Exactly,” said Vince. “If you didn't grow up with snow and ice, who cares about Hockey. But we got the key to the whole thing. And it's going to be big. WWE Hockey.”

Vince stood up, rubbing his hands together. “Doc, you're a rich guy. This is something you'll want to invest in. It'll be on NASDAQ, you can buy shares. Talk to me, we'll get you in on the ground floor.”

“Well,” said the doctor. “That may be all well and good, Vince, but we'll have to talk about this chart first. There seems to be some abnormalities. Where you ever injected with any... enhancers?”

Vince looked over at Tamas, ignoring the doctor. “Everybody got excited right, because it was Nation vs Nation, not like baseball, city vs city. Our new league's worldwide.”

“Worldwide? Kind of expensive traveling around.” said Tamas.

“Nope, it's all TV, come on. That's where money's made in sports. We just put a team on the ice and they are Afghanistan or Korea, or Russia. Stage them in some NHL rink, somewhere. Read your history. Our guys lost, men were killed and towns were looted. But if our guys WON, we got to do the looting and killing. People feel the same today.”

“You're right.” said Tomas. “I was yelling, 'Hit 'em, Smash 'em. Kill 'em.' I wanted to win so bad there at the end.”

“And how about this.” said Vince. “We will have small computers for each fan. Thumbs up and Thumbs down. Crazy high stick good for one point, maybe two in the score. Huge score at the end. Pictures of little thumbs, of course, for kids, and the reading impaired.”

Vince waved his hands in the air. “And here's the clincher. Don't tell anybody, but forget about any drug testing. Waste of time. People don't care about that anyway. Skaters will be monsters on the ice!”

“Steroids?” said the doctor. “Probably not a good idea. What about the long term effects...”

“Hell, we all put crap in our body. Artificial flavors, coffee creamers, and what exactly is American Slices, it ain't cheese." He glared at the doctor. “Come on, who the hell knows the long term effects of that stuff anyway."

“That's for sure,” said Tamas. “Who doesn't take some kind of a pill? I experimented way back when, hasn't changed me any. I'm going to be around for a long time, you can bet on that.” He began rolling up the sleeves of his red shirt.

“See Doc, nobody cares. Guys playing baseball, slap on the wrist, they're back playing again. They kick out everybody ever shot-up, there'd be no Major League Baseball, come on.”

“But...first... I'm afraid we have to discuss these x-rays...”

“Hell, even those that don't get juiced, suffer from arthritis, joint problems, brain tumors and back injuries. You know nicotine causes more problems, you're always talking about smoking.”

“Big plays, that's what fans want,” said Tamas. “They want faster skaters, harder hits, bigger body slams...or body checks I guess? DVDs, and computer games. Now that's where you'll make a ton of money.”

“Bigger is better, isn't that right Tamas?”

“You got that right. See those pictures of McGwire's brother?” said Tamas, “That's what fans want to see. Can't wait for USA against North Korea, or Iran.”

“ Hell, ESPN can cut out beach volley ball, they only have it on as a filler, something to stick into their schedule at 2am. We'll take their place. You rather watch exciting, big time ice hockey, USA against the world or couple of skinny broads flitting around in the sand, slapping at a volley ball. Get real.”

“I sure don't,” said Tamas.

Vince grimaced as he slowly sat back down, twisting his shoulders. “Doc, you in.”

“I don' know, I'll have to talk with my wife...”

“Talk with your wife? Do I have to get Chris Jerico, or Samoa Joe over to your house, have a talk with your wife?” He squinted at the doctor, then laughed loudly, “Just kidding, JUST KIDDING!”

The Doctor stared at the x-rays up against the light. “HGH, muscle augmentation, few injections, might keep this from spreading. But you're probably right, Vince.” He put the clipboard down on a side table, and sat down next to the two men.

“Hell, we'll check on these spots again in a couple of months, see if they've spread. Okay.” The Doc sat back and viewed Vince over his thick glasses. “This about no drug testing, you'll have to get iron clad contracts. These guys will have to know exactly...I could talk with each one...”

Tamas smiled and began rolling down the sleeves of his red shirt, buttoning them at the wrists.

...And you'll need a team doctor. Exactly how much did you say I could invest?”

Vince smiled broadly, and shot the doctor with fingers like a gun. “Yes. WWE Hockey. Here we come!”

That's my take. What do you think? Is WWE really sports? Should we ban all drugged athletes? Or is action more important?

CorneliusButterfield.com