Nick was concerned about the optics. Nobody in pro wrestling is parsed more thoroughly than the Young Bucks, because no one else has so thoroughly fused the in-ring product—the act of wrestling—with the sport's other trappings: entrepreneurship, internet rumor mongering, backstage innuendo. All it would take is one person seeing things out of context, and this could look very, very bad. Then again, a stunt like this would most certainly get people watching.Which, of course, was the rub. More people watching meant more followers on Twitter, more subscribers on YouTube, and, most importantly, more merchandise sales, which form the bulk of Matt and Nick's income.So, Nick changed his mind. He did want to go viral after all."OK," Matt replied. "Then we've got to kick the kid in the face."Read More: An Inside Look at WWE's Financial Empire
Matt Jackson, left, and his younger brother, Nick, seen here with two of the three championship belts they currently hold. Courtesy Ring of Honor Wrestling
Pro wrestling's history in the United States is marked by a workforce struggling to adapt in the face of gradual monopolization. The sport's first golden age, during the 1940s and 1950s, was defined by its territories, small fiefdoms organized by strict geographic lines. The arrangement held until 1983, when the New York–based WWE (still known as the World Wrestling Federation, before a lawsuit in 2002 forced the name change) began to gobble up other promotions in an attempt to go national. An arms race ensued, and by the 90s the list of viable places for talent to make a decent living was down to WWE, World Championship Wrestling (WCW), and, on a smaller scale, Extreme Championship Wrestling (ECW). The latter two went bust in 2001 and WWE quickly purchased their assets, cementing its position as a global monolith. With the (sporadic) exception of the financially shaky Total Nonstop Action Wrestling (TNA), WWE hasn't experienced anything close to a true competitor since.
Matt Jackson is more bombastic of the two brothers. Courtesy Ring of Honor Wrestling
To this day, Matt remembers the trip home to California after he and Nick quit the company. Matt's wife, Dana, was six months pregnant at the time, and they were on the verge of getting kicked out of their apartment. It was their rock bottom as pro wrestlers, but it was also the point at which they realized they needed to find another way if they were going to make it.Matt recalled a specific layover when, famished, he ducked into an airport Popeye's to pick up lunch, only to have his credit card declined. He needed Nick to pick up the tab on his $1.99 chicken biscuit sandwich."I almost broke down in the airport," Matt says. "That was almost a moment for me: I've got to do something. I've either got to get a job or make this wrestling thing work. I always have that fear in my head. I can't go back to those days of being a poor, starving artist. I want to succeed. That's what drove me to be the guy I am now. That moment."For years, Matt and Nick had been consumed with becoming the very best wrestlers they could be. Do that, they figured, and the money would follow. TNA had opened their eyes. Being great wasn't enough. If they wanted to survive, they needed to become Colt Cabana.What is Colt doing that is so successful? Matt wondered. Why is he making so much money? How is he doing this?Soon, Matt and Nick were printing their own shirts, too. They incorporated social media. They paid more attention to their downsides—the lowest minimum guaranteed payment they could receive for an appearance—and, when business picked up, how to diversify revenue streams.
Nick Jackson, seen here giving a fan a Too Sweet. Courtesy Ring of Honor Wrestling
The Young Bucks first became famous for their athletic, tandem-based maneuvers. Courtesy Ring of Honor Wrestling
The Young Bucks' signature in-ring pose. Courtesy of Ring of Honor Wrestling