“You do know it’s fake right”
The above sneering question is one that almost every professional wrestling fan above a certain age has had to put up with for decades.
While almost nobody still believes that wrestling is a legitimate sport, the mocking notion that it is ‘fake’ has plagued the industry ever since Vince McMahon ‘came clean’ about the illusion in 1995 (an admission made to avoid paying tax to the athletic commission).
On 4th November, industry leader WWE returned to Yorkshire for the first time since the Coronavirus pandemic, with an event at Sheffield’s Utilita Arena. The show was a low stakes ‘house show’, untelevised and with results that have no bearing on WWE’s weekly television shows.
But yet, it was a spectacle that reminded me how much we missed during those dark lockdown days, as well as the joys that wrestling can inspire. People of all ages, from fresh-faced kids seeing their idols in the flesh to hardened cynics whose hearts come alive again when seeing action in the flesh.
It was a strong show with a slate of well-wrestled matches, capped off by WWE Champion Big E defeating Bobby Lashley in the crudely dubbed ‘Sheffield Street Fight’.
Along the way, we saw Irish superstar Becky Lynch play pantomime villain, antagonising her opponent and the crowd by claiming to be the Leeds United to Bianca Belair’s Sheffield United.
Randy Orton was perhaps the most popular star, the industry veteran still able to bring a crowd to life.
But why is wrestling so popular?
Professional Wrestling is about incredible athletic feats, death-defying stunts and an illusion that has enthralled audiences for over 50 years. It is an industry thriving with more depth and variety than ever as the behemoth of WWE is rivalled by ambitious upstart All Elite Wrestling (AEW).
New Japan Pro Wrestling provides hard-hitting action that is unique to other promotions.
Closer to home, British wrestling has seen a Renaissance with the likes of Will Ospreay and Zack Sabre Jr regularly delivering classics at London’s York Hall.
But above all, wrestling is about narrative – Heroes vs villains in pursuit of glory or honour.
The ultimate prop is the world championship belt, but matches are born out of revenge, personal grudges and betrayal.
Narratives are told over months and sometimes years. Outlandish larger than life characters collide with those who are relatable to an audience. In the ‘90s, millions of Americans lived vicariously through anti-hero Steve Austin as he fulfilled the fantasy of beating up his boss every week and getting away with it.
A new generation of fans identified with CM Punk as he railed against a corporate machine that they felt was letting them down.
In Japan, Tetsuya Naito’s pursuit of both championship gold and the love of the fans who rejected him spanned SEVEN years before its culmination in January 2020.
This weekend at AEW’s Full Gear, an insecure cowboy will look to fulfil his destiny and claim the world championship from his former teammate turned arrogant villain.
It’s outlandish, it’s ridiculous and it’s eyebrow-raising. But professional wrestling is a combination of sports, soap operas, and gripping drama.
In 2019, comedian John Oliver stated that “wrestling is better than the things you like”. It’s hard to argue with him.
