Welcome back. It is it's so good to have you
here with us again. Absolutely. You know, we
always keep a seat open for you, the learner,
because you constantly show up ready to explore
these really complex systems and deep histories.
And today, well, you are in for an absolute treat.
Yeah, this one is pretty wild. It really is.
Our mission for this deep dive is to unpack the
wild two decade roller coaster of Ring of Honor
or ROH. Since you follow the industry, you already
know they're an American professional wrestling
promotion that fundamentally shaped the modern
landscape of the sport. But today we're looking
at the foundational architecture of that survival.
Because the behind the scenes business reality
of ROH. often rivals the storylines playing out
in the ring. I mean, we are looking at a company
that has experienced the absolute highest of
commercial highs and the most devastating organizational
lows. And to chart that journey, we're using
a comprehensive Wikipedia history detailing everything
from their founding in 2002 all the way up to
present day today being Sunday, March 8, 2026.
This is a masterclass in business survival. Even
if you don't follow professional wrestling, the
corporate mechanics here are fascinating. We're
talking about internet massive corporate debt,
the launch of billionaire -backed rival companies
draining top -tier talent, and ultimately a billionaire
savior stepping in at the 11th hour. It is a
profound look at how brand equity can keep a
company on life support when the financial or
operational infrastructure completely collapses.
Okay, let's unpack this. To really understand
the DNA of Ring of Honor, we have to look at
the landscape in 2001. There was a professional
wrestling video distributor called RF Video.
Their entire business model relied on selling
VHS tapes of Extreme Championship Wrestling,
or ECW. But in 2001, ECW goes bankrupt and its
assets are immediately swallowed up. by the industry
giant, WWE. So how does a mail order video catalog
survive losing its flagship product overnight?
They had to manufacture their own supply. RF
video was essentially a pipeline without water.
Wow. They'd previously tried to partner with
other regional independent promotions, like Combat
Zone Wrestling, to fill that massive gap in their
catalog. But the tape sales just weren't moving
the needle the way ECW did. So the owner of RF
Video, Rob Feinstein, realized that to control
his revenue stream, he needed to own the intellectual
property from the ground up. In 2002, he creates
his own wrestling promotion out of pure financial
necessity. That is the birth of Ring of Honor.
Which is such a bizarre origin for a live touring
company. They weren't launching with a grand
vision of selling out stadiums. They were literally
just trying to shoot enough compelling footage
to burn onto DVDs and mail out to their subscriber
base. Exactly. And that constraint defined their
early presentation. They couldn't afford massive
pyrotechnics or expensive arena lighting. They
had to rely entirely on the athletic quality
of the performers to move those DVDs. So they
kicked things off with their very first event
on February. 23, 2002 in Philadelphia, which
is a very strategic choice since Philly was the
spiritual home base of ECW. Yeah, very smart
move to capture that orphan fan base. The show
was called The Era of Honor Begins. The timeline
shows it featured nine matches, but the defining
moment was a triple threat match between Christopher
Daniels, Bryan Danielson, and Lokai. Those three
are heavily credited as the founding fathers
of the promotions in -ring style. and beyond
the sheer athleticism they established. A very
rigid psychological framework right out of the
gate called the Code of Honor. Right. These were
five strict rules that competitors were morally
required to follow. Shaking hands before and
after matches. No outside interference. No sneak
attacks. No harming the officials. And any disqualification
violates the code. It was a huge departure from
the norm. It aggressively mimicked the presentation
of Japanese professional wrestling, treating
it as a legitimate, honorable athletic contest
rather than a soap opera. But from a storytelling
perspective, imposing those rules seems like
putting handcuffs on the performers. What's fascinating
here is how the promotion utilized these strict
moral constraints to instantly generate visceral
heat from the audience. In standard professional
wrestling, creating a compelling antagonist usually
requires elaborate promos, betrayals, or over
-the -top antics. Right. But in early ROH, they
essentially gamified respect. The baseline of
honor was so highly enforced by the promotion
that a competitor could generate massive outrage
simply by refusing to shake hands. Because the
audience is conditioned to expect the handshake,
so denying it is an act of total defiance. Christopher
Daniels and his faction, the Prophecy, weaponized
this perfectly. They completely rejected the
code of honor. Because the boundaries were so
clearly drawn, the live crowds reacted intensely
to that simple passive aggressive act. They didn't
need a 20 minute monologue to explain why Daniels
was the bad guy. Exactly. The structure of the
rules themselves engineered the conflict organically.
It's an incredibly efficient way to build a brand
identity. But while the product was critically
acclaimed, the business side almost imploded
just two years in. Yeah, this was the first real
crisis. In 2004, founder Rob Feinstein is caught
in an internet -based sting operation. He allegedly
attempted to solicit sex online from someone
he thought was an underage boy, though it turned
out to be an adult posing as a minor. And the
fallout from those allegations was immediate.
We're looking strictly at the business impact
here. And for a fledgling promotion, a scandal
of that magnitude attached to the founder is
usually an extinction level event. Feinstein
resigns in March 2004 as soon as the news cycle
picks up the story and the collateral damage
is just. Staggering. Oh, it was brutal. At the
time, TNA Wrestling, a rival promotion, had a
talent sharing agreement with ROH. TNA immediately
pulls all of their contracted wrestlers from
ROH shows to protect their own brand. We are
talking about massive box office draws for the
company. Guys like AJ Styles, Christopher Daniels,
guys who are actively holding or competing for
major championships in Ring of Honor. You lose
your founder. your primary financial backer,
and your top main event stars in one fell swoop.
The company was bleeding out. Thug Gentry briefly
steps in to buy Feinstein's stake, but it is
Kerry Silkin who ultimately purchases 100 % ownership.
Silkin is widely regarded as the white knight
of this era. He really was. He absorbs the financial
blows, stabilizes the locker room, and eventually
starts branching the company out globally with
tours in Japan and the UK. He keeps the doors
open long enough to reach their next massive
evolutionary step, which was the corporate takeover.
Because the transition from an independent niche
DVD selling operation to a television property
is a massive hurdle. Right. And in May 2011,
Sinclair Broadcast Group purchases Ring of Honor.
For a touring indie company, getting acquired
by a massive media conglomerate seems like the
ultimate victory condition. Suddenly, ROH has
television syndication across Sinclair's huge
network of local CW and My Network TV affiliates.
The reach expanded exponentially. Instead of
relying on a niche audience actively seeking
out physical media or early Internet pay -per
-views, ROH was being broadcast directly into
living rooms across the country. It changed everything.
But Sinclair didn't buy them to make them a global
phenomenon. Sinclair bought them because owning
a wrestling promotion provides cheap, evergreen,
original content to fill weekend programming
blocks on their local stations. That's a crucial
distinction. They were a line item on a corporate
balance sheet, but the talent leveraged that
massive platform perfectly. This kicks off a
period of explosive growth throughout the 2010s.
They established global partnerships, most notably
a talent exchange program with New Japan Pro
Wrestling. Which was huge for them. Huge. And
this era culminates in an absolute peak in 2019
with a co -promoted event called G1 Supercard.
They completely sold out Madison Square Garden
in New York City. The cultural significance of
that venue cannot be overstated. Madison Square
Garden had effectively been a closed fortress,
completely monopolized by WWE for decades. For
Ring of Honor to break that monopoly and sell
it out proved they were no longer just an indie
darling. They were a legitimate commercial force.
And that MSG show was built on the momentum of
another monumental milestone just a year prior.
In September 2018, ROH wrestlers Cody Rhodes
and the Young Bucks Matt and Nick Jackson independently
promoted a collaborative event called All In.
Right, in Chicago. Suburban Chicago, yeah. They
drew over 11 ,000 fans. If we connect this to
the bigger picture, the American wrestling landscape
had been entirely dominated by WWE since the
late 90s. All In was the first non -WWE or WCW
wrestling event in the United States to hit that
10 ,000 attendance mark in decades. It proved
there was an alternative market. Exactly. ROH
was officially considered the number three promotion
in the U .S. behind WWE and TNA, but their cultural
influence, their ability to set trends, dictate
match styles, and build underground megastars
was vastly outpacing their actual corporate size.
Here's where it gets really interesting, because
that massive peak at All In actually planted
the seeds for their next catastrophic crisis.
It was a classic startup brain drain. Yeah, they
became victims of their own success. In early
2019, the architects of that massive success,
Cody Rhodes, the Young Bucks, and a slew of other
top talent leave Ring of Honor. They depart to
form their own well -funded major league company,
All Elite Wrestling, or AEW. The executives at
ROH found themselves in a terrifying position.
The talent that had essentially been booking
their own historic success took their blueprint,
found independent billionaire backing, and set
up shop down the street. It was an Absolute exodus
of top tier drawing cards. The metrics reflect
the devastation immediately. Average live show
attendance in 2019 plummets to just 1 ,082 fans.
But the external loss of talent was masking a
severe internal breakdown. The operational infrastructure
of the company was failing. The culture and the
safety protocols came under intent public scrutiny
during this period. In October 2019, producer
and road agent Joey Mercury resigns and he makes
his grievances very public. He specifically targets...
the company's lack of a standardized concussion
protocol. Which is a massive issue in any contact
sport. Absolutely. The timeline highlights a
specific incident where the Women of Honor champion,
Kelly Cline, was allowed to wrestle after suffering
a concussion. She eventually sought independent
medical treatment for post -concussion syndrome,
was removed from the schedule for the rest of
the year, and her contract was simply allowed
to expire. Without weighing in on the internal
communications, the public relations nightmare
for ROH was undeniable. It painted a picture
of a corporate -owned company that lacked basic
major league safeguards for its athletes. It
shatters the illusion of prestige they had spent
the last decade building. And the attempt to
rebuild that prestige backfires spectacularly.
Entering 2020, ROH is desperate for star power
to replace the talent that left for AEW. They
sign wrestler Marty Skrull to what was reportedly
the most lucrative contract in the history of
the promotion. They bet the house on him. They
really did. Furthermore, they hand him the keys
to the kingdom by making him head booker, meaning
he dictates the storylines, controls the roster,
and shapes the creative direction. But just months
into this massive investment, the speaking out
movement sweeps through the global wrestling
industry. This was a systemic reckoning across
the business where numerous individuals came
forward with allegations of misconduct, abuse
and inappropriate behavior. Allegations surface
regarding Skrull and an incident involving a
16 -year -old girl who was inebriated. Skrull
releases statements claiming the encounter was
consensual, but he does not deny the event itself.
Right. ROH immediately launches an internal investigation.
removes him from his head booking position in
June 2020, and by January 2021, the promotion
announces they have mutually agreed to part ways.
Let's analyze the sheer velocity of that collapse.
Within a 12 -month window, you lose your highest
-paid marquee star and your chief creative director
under a massive cloud of controversy. And this
catastrophic internal unforced error happens
precisely as the COVID -19 pandemic completely
eradicates live touring revenue across the globe.
It is the ultimate perfect storm. They are forced
to cancel tours. They pivot to taping television
in completely empty arenas to fulfill their broadcast
obligations to Sinclair. But the ticket revenue
is completely gone. And if the pandemic wasn't
enough, their corporate parent company is suddenly
drowning. Sinclair's Q3 2021 financial results
reveal the broadcast group is saddled with $12
.5 billion of debt. it is the equivalent of finding
out your wealthy benefactor's own house, is in
foreclosure. Sinclair's billions of debt were
tied up in other massive regional sports networks,
but when a parent conglomerate is bleeding capital
on that scale, a niche professional wrestling
promotion that isn't generating live gate revenue
becomes highly expendable. The floor finally
gives out on October 27, 2021. ROH makes an announcement
that shakes the industry. They are going on an
indefinite hiatus at the end of the year. But
it's not just a pause. They announce the complete
release of all personnel from their contracts.
The official statement claims they plan to reimagine
the company as a fan -focused product, but they
essentially fire their entire roster. They stripped
the company down to its studs. They announced
plans to return as an indie promotion using non
-contracted, per -appearance talent. What is
remarkable here is the resilience of the brand
identity itself. How so? Well, during this hiatus,
the wrestlers who have been released took the
physical ROH championship belts and defended
them on rival promotions broadcasts like Impact
Wrestling and various independent shows. They
kept the intellectual property warm in the minds
of the audience, purely out of respect for the
legacy of the letters. Which sets the stage for
a truly staggering plot twist. The billionaire
savior arrives, but it comes from the most ironic
place imaginable. In March 2022, on an episode
of AEW television, Tony Khan, the co -owner and
president of All Elite Wrestling, walks out and
announces he has officially purchased Ring of
Honor. You couldn't write it any better. Right.
He acquires the brand assets, the intellectual
property, and critically, the massive video library
dating all the way back to 2002. The irony is
incredible. The very company that was willed
into existence by the stars who abandoned ROH
three years prior has now outright purchased
ROH. Beyond the poetry of the moment, Khan acquired
a foundational piece of wrestling history. That
tape library contains the early developmental
footage of generation -defining stars like Seth
Rollins, CM Punk, Samoa Joe, and Bryan Danielson.
The sale officially closes in May 2022. Khan
integrates ROH as a sister promotion running
parallel to AEW. They ramp up pay -per -view
production, and by the end of 2022, it's announced
that ROH's weekly television program will be
reborn on their proprietary streaming platform,
Honor Club, launching in 2023. It was a total
organizational renaissance. They transitioned
from a dead brand on hiatus back to having a
dedicated salaried roster, a consistent taping
schedule, and the impenetrable financial backing
of the Khan family. Which brings us to the present
landscape. Today is March 8th, 2026. Looking
at the current footprint, the promotion has evolved
yet again. As of March 1st, 2026, ROH has relocated
its weekly television ratings to the WJCT studios
down in Jacksonville, Florida. They've shifted
from a touring circus model to a stationary,
highly controlled production hub. Having a dedicated
residency stabilizes the production costs tremendously.
It allows them to focus heavily on the championship
hierarchies, which have become incredibly robust
under this new regime. The title reigns happening
right now are historic. Bandito is the current
ROH world champion. He captured that title back
in April 2025 by defeating Chris Jericho in a
massive title versus mask match at the AEW Dynasty
pay -per -view. He has anchored the men's division
for 336 days now. A nearly year -long reign for
the world title provides immense stability, but
the numbers in the women's division are truly
staggering. Athena is the reigning ROH Women's
World Champion. She captured that belt on December
10th, 2022, defeating Mercedes Martinez at Final
Battle. As of today, she has held that championship
for an unbelievable 1 ,184 days. When a brand
suffers the kind of violent whiplash that ROH
endured, from the pandemic to the Sinclair debt
crisis to the con acquisition, having a champion
hold down a division for over three years is
an incredible stabilizing. mechanism. It builds
equity and trust back with the audience. Tony
Khan also preserved some of the unique legacy
mechanics of the brand, specifically the proving
ground match. This is a brilliant piece of competitive
strategy. It really is. An up and coming talent
faces a current champion in a non -title match.
If the challenger can simply survive the time
limit, usually 10 minutes, or manage to score
an upset victory, they are guaranteed a future
title shot. It solves a massive booking problem.
It allows you to showcase your champions against
lower tier talent. without making the outcome
completely predictable. The audience invests
in the underdog simply trying to run out the
clock. The timeline highlights a perfect execution
of this. Lee Moriarty stepped into a proving
ground match against then pure champion Wheeler
Utah. Moriarty managed to survive the full 10
minutes. That endurance earned him a title shot
at the Death Before Dishonor event in July 2024,
where Moriarty capitalized and actually defeated
Utah for the pure championship. And he's still
holding it. Exactly. Looking at the data today,
almost 600 days later, Moriarty is still the
reigning champion. So what does this all mean?
We have traced a company born from the collapse
of the VHS tape trading market, watched it survive
its founder's scandalous exit, weather multiple
talent exoduses, endure a broadcast conglomerate's
multi -billion dollar debt crisis, and navigate
a global pandemic. Only to end up as a streaming
property owned by the rival billionaire who poached
their talent in the first place. Right. It's
an unbelievable journey. When you synthesize
this two -decade timeline, Ring of Honor is fundamentally
a masterclass in relentless adaptability. Their
operational infrastructure collapsed half a dozen
times. Their financial backing disappeared. Their
top stars abandoned them. But they survived every
single extinction -level event by falling back
on an incredibly stubborn, clearly defined core
product. Pure, unadulterated, in -ring professional
wrestling. The wrestling itself was the life
raft. Exactly. The brand equity of that simple
concept was so strong it literally kept the company
alive when the bank accounts were empty. There
is a massive takeaway here for you, no matter
what industry you are navigating. The Ring of
Honor story proves that losing your most vital
talent to a competitor or having your corporate
safety net yanked out from under you does not
have to be a death sentence. If you cultivate
a fiercely loyal community and maintain a distinct,
uncompromising core identity like the Code of
Honor, you can weather the most catastrophic
organizational storms. This raises an important
question, though. Something to think about as
the wrestling landscape continues to shift in
2026, when a fiercely independent, rebellious
brand, a company whose entire identity was built
on being the gritty alternative to the mainstream
machine, is ultimately purchased and absorbed
by a billionaire who runs a massive mainstream
wrestling empire. Does that acquisition secure
the company's legacy, or does it permanently
extinguish the underground soul that made the
audience fall in love with it in the first place?
That is a phenomenal thread to pull on. Does
the survival of the intellectual property justify
the sacrifice of its independence? Something
for you to mull over as you analyze the brands
you interact with every day. Thank you so much
for joining us on this deep dive into the chaotic,
brilliant history of Ring of Honor. We hope you
pulled some valuable insights from the madness.
And as always, keep that curiosity alive. We
will catch you on the next one.