Last week on Raw, Brock Lesnar clearly gave his mission statement. He is an asskicker.
It was the best thing I saw in a long time.
Lesnar made the sale… he closed the deal. I’m buying what he’s selling.
What made his words so good? What made this video package so effective?
Brock didn’t mince words. He got right to the point and within the first ten seconds, you knew what he was selling. He was consistent and convincing in his body language. Lesnar also made me believe what he said… because he believes it!
I’ve ranted and raved about the injurious effect that script writers have had on professional wrestling, as it has morphed into sports-entertainment. Over the years, we’ve seen the soul of wrestlers beaten out of them as they churn out monotonous drivel, born on the keyboard of some combat neophyte. This was Lesnar at his best. I’ve seen him try to recite written words… brutal. He took his lumps in UFC on the mic, embarrassing himself, the company and sponsors with ill-timed words. But it looks like he’s found his sweet spot and he hit a home run.
Later on, we saw the frustrating John Cena basically no-sell Brock and give more fuel to the fire of those who vacillate between cheers and boos. Goofy faces, typical back-and-forth between serious and comedy. If Cena was in sales, he would be the guy who starts out fast, gets closes with his charm but over time, he would be exposed as a fraud with no soul to his sale.
At Extreme Rules, fans will go crazy for Brock and boo the bejesus out of Cena. If fans decide who to buy with their dollars and their voice, Lesnar will be Salesman of the Month.
Not too long ago, CM Punk made fans believe in him and his message. Now, they believe Brock Lesnar.
Back to the title, what’s an “elevator speech”? Quite simply, if you find yourself in an elevator with a customer you want to sell to, how do you sell them in the time from when the doors close until they open? What is your product or service and how is it going to benefit your customer? About 30 seconds… If your elevator speech is strong, you can sell to anyone. Lesnar killed the “Elevator Speech” test. “I’m not a superstar… I’m an Asskicker. I am Brock Lesnar”. About a dozen words. 9 seconds. Sold.
As I always do, I continue to challenge young wrestlers who are struggling with promos to find their voice and develop their “Elevator Speech”. On YouTube, type “Austin Idol Promos” in the search bar and you’ll hear multiple “Elevator Speeches”, filled with fire, passion and sales… ticket sales. He rang the register every time he spoke. For non-wrestlers, if you work in sales, think “Austin Idol” and ring your own register with your own “Elevator Speech”.
Who are you? What are you selling? Who are you selling to? Do you know your audience? What do they want to buy? Are you selling what they want to buy?
Brock Lesnar knows what he is selling. He knows his audience and they are buying.
For the athletes in Ring of Honor, this is what you should be doing as well. You have a remarkable opportunity, as you ply your wares in a promotion that believes in ticket sales driven by the spoken word. Those who can speak will get more opportunity to do so. Refine your “Elevator Speech” and have it ready to go when a microphone is in front of your face.
For the athletes in the WWE, be thankful Brock is there… the company (and you) may make some more money now. But when the crowd farts on you, part of it could be because they don’t believe you. Stick up for yourself and say if you think something is crap. Have a better idea… your own “Elevator Speech”. CM Punk did and now Brock. The door is ready to be kicked open.
Because last week on Raw, Brock Lesnar not only kicked the door in, he sat at Cena’s kitchen table, ate his food, slept with his old lady, stole his dog and then drove away in Cena’s car.
Owned.
The Elevator Speech… get yours today and watch your sales increase.
What are your thoughts on the Elevator Speech? Got a story to share? Questions? Recipes? On Twitter @RealKevinKelly
Nick was born and raised in Detroit, Michigan, and lived there until the age of 18, when he decided to pack his flack jacket and move to New York City.
