Ottawa, Ontario, Canada.
The atmosphere in the Ottawa arena was electric as the first-ever WWF draft was about to begin. Wrestlers milled about backstage, discussing the potential changes that were about to occur. Among them, skepticism loomed regarding Zlatan's debut. Many wondered how a young guy from Sweden, barely 20 years old, could possibly cut it in the world of professional wrestling.
"Did you see that Zlatan guy? He's just a kid. What does he know about this business?"
"Yeah, seriously. This isn't soccer. This is the big leagues."
But not everyone shared that sentiment. The Rock, a third-generation wrestler, knew what it was like to carry high expectations as an outsider. He leaned against a wall, watching the discussions unfold.
"Give the kid a chance. We've all been new at some point." The Rock came to the defence of the young kid
Mick Foley, retired but always present in the wrestling world, approached. Mick understood what's like to be frowned upon.
"Rock's right. Remember, I came in as a nobody and look where I ended up."
As the draft unfolded, Zlatan was forging connections with those who shared similar backgrounds or challenges. RVD, with his martial arts background, quickly found common ground with the young newcomer. Brock Lesnar, a fellow athlete from the University of Minnesota in collegiate wrestling, saw a glimmer of potential in Zlatan's transition to wrestling. And then there was Trish Stratus, who Zlatan bonded with over their shared status as outsiders.
"We're in this together, navigating a whole new world." Zlatan said to Trish in his conversation with the former fitness model after being introduced to each other.
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Ric Flair, the co-owner of WWF and Raw, stood at the podium at the ramp as the sixth pick of the draft approached.
"Ladies and gentlemen, my next pick is someone who's taken the world by storm in more ways than one. A man who's proven himself on the soccer pitch and now seeks to conquer our squared circle. With my sixth pick, I choose... Zlatan Ibrahimović!"
The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and surprised murmurs. Some were still skeptical, while others were genuinely intrigued by this unconventional choice.
"Well, well, well! Ric Flair picks some punk kid over veterans like Kurt Angle? This is ridiculous!" Jerry voiced his usual complaints at the ringside commentary with Jim Ross.
"You might not understand it, King, but Zlatan's potential has clearly caught the attention of the Nature Boy." Jim Ross defends Ric flair's pick.
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Meanwhile, backstage, Kurt Angle stormed into Mr. McMahon's office, not pleased with the recent pick.
"What the hell is this, Vince? Some punk kid with a Bosnian accent from Sweden gets drafted over me? I won a gold medal with a broken freaking neck!" Kurt Angle exclaimed.
The Boss ever the pragmatist, attempts to calm him down while soothing Kurt's bruised ego. He's heard worse and dealt with worse. "Calm down, Kurt. This isn't a slight against you. Zlatan's got something special, and Flair sees it."
Kurt Angle was seething. "This is ridiculous. I'm the best wrestler here!"
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Amidst the tension and excitement, Torrie Wilson approached Zlatan for a casual conversation backstage. "Hey, Zlatan. Mind if I pick your brain for a bit?"
Zlatan smiled, always up for a chat. "Not at all. What's on your mind?"
"I've been watching you, and I'm intrigued by your transition from soccer to wrestling. Can you explain the allure of this world?" Torrie asked him.
Zlatan leaned against a wall, thoughtful. "Soccer was my passion, but wrestling offers a different kind of intensity. It's like being on a field, but instead of a ball, your body is your instrument. The crowd, the energy—they're all part of the performance. It's a rush, a challenge."
Torrie nodded, absorbing his words. "Thanks for sharing that, Zlatan."
As the night unfolded with more draft picks and surprises, Zlatan Ibrahimović found himself surrounded by a mix of skepticism and support. But he was used to challenges. Just like on the soccer pitch, he was ready to prove himself and rise to the occasion in the world of professional wrestling.
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Backstage in the bustling arena, Jacqueline couldn't help but be intrigued by the new face in the locker room. Zlatan's accent and unique backstory had caught her attention, and she decided to approach him during a lull in the action. "Hey there, Zlatan. You're turning quite a few heads around here."
Zlatan looked up, offering a smile. "I can't help but stand out, can I?"
Their conversation flowed easily, as they exchanged lighthearted banter. Despite the differences in their backgrounds, there was a mutual respect evident in their interaction.
"So, soccer to wrestling. That's quite the leap. What made you decide to jump into this crazy world?" Jacqueline asked the young kid.
"It's the challenge, the thrill. Soccer taught me discipline, and now I'm channeling that into a new arena. Plus, the energy of the crowd is intoxicating." Zlatan admits.
Jacqueline nodded, appreciating his perspective. "You've got a unique accent. Where's it from?"
Zlatan chuckled. he had a feeling something would ask him that. "Ah, that's my Skåne Dialect. I'm from Malmö, Sweden. It's a bit different from the standard Swedish, but it's who I am."
Their conversation was cut short when William Regal approached with a sour expression. "Well, well, if it isn't the footballer turned wrestler. You cost me a title match, you did."
Zlatan raised an eyebrow, unapologetic. "I guess that's one way to make an entrance."
Regal's tone turned serious. "Listen here, lad. Wrestling ain't a game. You stick to your football tricks and leave the wrestling to the professionals."
Zlatan leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face. "Funny, coming from the man who couldn't handle a well-placed kick to the face."
The tension in the air was palpable, as their verbal sparring held the attention of those nearby. something hasn't gone unnoticed by the commentators at ringside.
"Oh boy, it looks like Regal's not too pleased with Zlatan's interference!" Jerry said.
"Looks like Zlatan's not one to back down either." JR commented.
Regal's face turned red with anger. "You watch yourself, young man. You don't know the first thing about this business."
Zlatan laughed, not intimidated in the least. "And you don't know the first thing about staying on your feet."
As Regal fumed, Zlatan leaned back with a casual grin. "By the way, how's being in Vince McMahon's special club working out for you?"
The comment struck a nerve, and Regal clenched his fists, visibly seething.
"Oh my! Zlatan's not holding back!" Jerry the King Lawler commented
"Looks like things are heating up backstage!" JR said.
As the confrontation played out, the rest of the locker room listened, the tension thick in the air. Zlatan's introduction to the world of professional wrestling was far from conventional, but he was proving that he wouldn't be pushed around easily, regardless of his football background or his accent. And as the drama unfolded, the intrigue surrounding the young Swedish newcomer only grew.
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As the energy in the arena buzzed with anticipation, Zlatan Ibrahimović found himself crossing paths with none other than Triple H, the new Undisputed Champion. The stakes were high as Triple H prepared for his title rematch against Chris Jericho, with The Game's estranged wife, Stephanie McMahon, in Jericho's corner.
Zlatan watched as Triple H went through his pre-match routine, his gaze steady and focused. It was clear that the champion was taking this match seriously, well aware of the implications it held for his future.
The match stipulation loomed large: if Chris Jericho lost, Stephanie McMahon would be forced to leave the WWF. It was a personal vendetta that had been brewing since WrestleMania 18 and the road to SkyDome.
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As the match progressed in the rematch, the tension in the arena reached a fever pitch. Triple H and Jericho exchanged brutal blows, each trying to outsmart the other. With Stephanie in Jericho's corner, the emotional stakes were higher than ever.
But just as the match seemed to be tipping in Jericho's favor, with Stephanie about to hand him a steel chair while the referee was down, the arena was filled with a sudden eruption of cheers and boos. Zlatan Ibrahimović had emerged from the crowd, his eyes locked onto Stephanie and the steel chair.
"Wait a minute, what is this punk kid doing out here!" King exclaimed in confusion.
JR was as equally confused. "I don't know, but it looks like he's trying to prevent Stephanie from interfering!"
Zlatan swiftly moved to Stephanie's side, taking hold of the steel chair and removing it from her hands. Stephanie's face twisted into a mask of fury as she tried to slap him. But Zlatan caught her hand mid-air, a silent warning in his eyes.
Triple H capitalized on the distraction, seizing the opportunity to hit the Pedigree on Jericho who was preoccupied. The referee recovered just in time to make the three-count, and Triple H retained his title.
"Here is your Winner and Still World Wrestling Federation Undisputed Champion, Triple H!"
"Triple H did it! He retained the title thanks to Zlatan's timely prevention! Stephanie is gone!" JR commented.
"But what's this punk kid's motivation here, JR? Why did he get involved?" King commented, taking a dislike already.
After the match, as Triple H celebrated in the ring, Stephanie McMahon was escorted out of the arena by security, her furious curses towards the punk kid echoing through the hallways. In the ring, Zlatan raised his hands, waving goodbye with a sly grin on his face.
The crowd's chants of "na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye" filled the arena, underscoring Stephanie's dramatic exit.
As the dust settled, it was clear that Zlatan Ibrahimović had made a statement—one that would surely reverberate through the WWF. The stage was set for future confrontations, alliances, and rivalries. And as Zlatan continued to navigate this new world, it became increasingly evident that his presence was anything but ordinary.
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Rochester, New York.
In Rochester's SmackDown arena three days after the draft, the atmosphere was tense as Chris Jericho stood in the center of the ring, a microphone in hand. His face twisted with frustration, he vented his grievances about Triple H, his former manager, and the events that had unfolded on Raw, which had led to Stephanie McMahon's exile. "You know what, Rochester? I've had it up to here with Triple H and his antics! He robbed me of my rightful rematch, and that new kid, that Zlatan guy, cost me everything! And don't even get me started on Stephanie!"
The crowd booed, fully absorbed in Jericho's rant. As he continued, he suddenly adopted a mocking accent, imitating Zlatan's Swedish nationality.
"Oh look at me, I'm Zlatan! I come from Sweden, and I think I can just interfere in matches and change people's lives!"
The smackdown commentators Michael Cole and Tazz at ringside supplies the commentary by announce table. "Jericho's really letting out his frustration tonight." Cole said.
"Hey, he's got a right to be upset, Cole." Tazz defended.
Just as Jericho's mocking reached a peak, the titantron flickered to life, revealing Zlatan Ibrahimović's face. The audience's attention immediately shifted, and Jericho's mocking expression faded to one of annoyance. "Oh, Jericho, Jericho, Jericho. You're quite the comedian, aren't you? But I've heard better jokes from my little niece."
The crowd chuckled at Zlatan's jab, while Jericho's scowl deepened.
"You call yourself the 'King of the World'? More like the 'King of Second Chances.' First, you lose at WrestleMania, then you blame everyone but yourself. And let's not forget your 'Y2J' and 'Ayatollah of Rock and Rollah' nonsense. Oh, and Fozzy? More like Fizzy, because your career's gone flat!" Zlatan quipped with his trademark grin.
The audience burst into laughter, while Jericho seethed.
The grin faded off his face as Zlatan's voice turned serious. "You're a has-been, Jericho, living off your past glory. But guess what? I'm here to make my own mark, and I've got someone who wants to welcome you to SmackDown."
With that, Zlatan signaled, and Edge's music hit to the roar of the crowd. Edge, the newly minted SmackDown superstar, stormed down the ramp, his eyes locked onto Jericho.
Edge slid into the ring, immediately tackling Jericho to the mat. The two engaged in a fierce brawl, exchanging punches and grapples as the crowd cheered.
As the chaos unfolded in the ring, Zlatan's plan had worked. The confrontation had shifted from his verbal jabs to a physical altercation, and the intensity was palpable. The collision of these two worlds—Zlatan's and Jericho's—was only just beginning, promising even more drama, rivalries, and unexpected alliances in the world of professional wrestling.