Anyway, there I sat, kicking back with a towel round my neck, ready to watch Pericolo and Tyrell beat the living hell out of each other… with a smile on face. Thoughts of Tyrell’s chair shot assault on me came flooding back as I began to question who I favoured in the match up. Tyrell? Pericolo? I jostled with the debate in my head for a good few minutes. In fact, the jostling lasted for pretty much all of the match… right up until the point that Pericolo ripped Tyrell’s mask off.

It’s just something you don’t DO.

Masks are common place in professional wrestling these days and you rarely see one ripped off. You’ve got to ask yourself – how would batman feel without his mask? How would Spiderman feel? I’ll tell you how they’d feel – robbed, cheated and pissed that their identity had been unveiled. It’d take something away from their character. Life would never be the same again.

So, despite being pissed at Tyrell’s unmasking, I remained seated… because I wanted to watch the Main Event. War games.

Michael Trey. Jon Fuller. Dylan O’Riley. Even Sharp himself.

It kind of reads like a “who’s who” of the HWF, doesn’t it?

Despite my obvious dislike of Trey and lack of tolerance for the other three, I cheered on the troops in the name of the HWF. I even found myself jumping up and down when good old Stephen hit that little knee thing on Anderson.

But then, I realised. A win for Team HWF wouldn’t change a damn thing.

You see, Michael Trey hasn’t accomplished anything by helping team HWF to a victory over The Elite. At the end of the day, he’s still going to have to fight the war next week… and the week after… and the week after. If he wants to truly save this company, then he’s going to have to pull buyrates at pay-per-views up, draw bigger crowds and sell out better arenas. However, the fact of the matter is that the people don’t want to see Michael Trey wrestle anymore…

They’re tired of you, Michael.

One minute you’re here and then next…boom. Gone. You’re not a dependable character at all. The fans just don’t know where they stand with you. Why bother cheering for Trey when they don’t know whether you’ll turn up or not when guys like Pericolo are busting their ass to climb the ladder? You’ve just not got the same pulling power as someone like that… or someone like me.

Face it Michael, before you can even dream of saving the HWF… you need to save yourself.

Don’t worry though. Because after I’m done taking you to the cleaners once again this week, you’ll more than likely disappear – but I’ll live on. It’ll be guys like me that eventually ‘save’ the HWF. So, I’m begging you, retire now and save face. You’re a legend and rightfully so… but legends are supposed to grow stronger with time.

And yet you continue to degrade yourself every week.

Unless you’re fully committed to fighting this battle then there’s nothing here for you anymore. You’re done. It’s over. Take your place in the Hall of Hardcore and then fuck off for good. I don’t hate you, Trey. I don’t actually want you to leave. I just want to wrestle the Michael Trey that’s prepared to carry the HWF on his shoulders and lead us to new pastures. That’s why I think you should retreat to the trenches, defeat the enemy from within and then try to go the distance with someone like me.

Face the facts… Your war isn’t over, Private Trey. It’s only just beginning.