It's a strange thing, revisiting ECW through a 2018 lens.
Where once, the promotion was glorified for its brutal cutting edge and gritty innovation, its key players have cannibalised the corpse so thoroughly that there is very little of the old magic left to recover. Its rated R philosophy subsumed and arguably perfected by the WWF, we are years removed from nostalgia both literally and in sprit. The awesome One Night Stand shows reminded us of what we loved about the promotion, but House of Hardcore?
ECW was a moment in time. Living that moment over and over again brings into focus that, for the self-styled 'Nirvana' of professional wrestling, there was a lot of Godsmack in its bowels.
Still, the promotion's legacy is assured, if we can ignore all that. Though flawed and much-bettered in recent years, the Rob Van Dam vs. Jerry Lynn programme retains a certain charm, like an 8-bit classic that just about holds up, if you can forgive the choppy frame rate. The long-term, absorbing storytelling, wild, revolutionary angles and unique cast just about transcend its retrospective ugliness.
And ECW is one of few modern promotions of renown to have survived and thrived through a surge of DIY creativity, to such an extent that, when famous names were parachuted in, they were hardly defined by nor defined the promotion...