In Defense of Professional Wrestling

I had a long post written for this. I was ready to set up a full-fledged dissertation defending the WWE. I was going to go full fangirl.

But I think I’d like to try another way.

On October 22, 2018, my favorite wrestler Roman Reigns opened Monday Night RAW by announcing to the WWE Universe that he’d been living with Leukemia for over a decade, and it had returned. He had to vacate the Universal Championship, and would be taking time off.

I won’t lie. It broke my heart. I cried. I texted my brother and my dad about how upset I was, and then I decided to draft this.

Because I love professional wrestling. I love professional wrestlers.

Back before my brother forced me to watch Monday Night RAW in 2014, if someone had told me that I would be writing that sentence eventually, I would have laughed in their face. There’s no way I would enjoy it. It’s fake, isn’t it?

Well, four years later, I’ve attended five WWE shows, met five different professional wrestlers, dressed as John Cena for Halloween twice, and actually made new friends based entirely on our interest in professional wrestling.

And I have zero regrets.

I hear two things from people after I tell them that I like professional wrestling. The first is almost always “you know it’s fake, right?” The second is “so why would you like it?”

There are simple answers to this. I know it’s ‘fake.’ It’s scripted. The men and women I watch are professional athletes and performers. Breaking Bad is also fake. The Walking Dead is fake. It’s all fake. And, just like the above shows, it’s well-written; at least, enough to make it entertaining week-to-week.

So why would I like it? For the same reasons people like watching any television show. I love the characters. I care about the storylines. People talk about crying during movies and TV shows; I cried when Roman Reigns was minutes away from winning the WWE Championship for the first time, only for Seth Rollins to ruin it and take it for himself. Every week, WWE superstars make the audience care about them and their journeys; and when they aren’t on TV, they’re performing in various non-canon live shows. They put their bodies on the line every night for people like me, and I love them for it.

I guess this did sort of turn into a fangirl post. It’s hard not to fangirl. I’ve been defending my love for the WWE since the moment I started watching it; I’ve got it down to a science now. In the end, I don’t really need to *defend* it. I don’t really care what people think about it. All I care about is how I feel sitting—or standing—next to my brother or father at a live show cheering on all our favorite superstars. I care about the feeling of absolute joy I had watching Roman Reigns win the WWE Championship for the first time.

For years the WWE has been creating characters and stories that get the fans excited, angry, or downright heartbroken (I suggest looking up Undertaker’s Streak, Ric Flair’s Retirement, or Shawn MIchaels’ retirement if you need examples), and they’ll do it for many years to come. And people—grown adults, teenagers, children—will continue to love it. And that’s okay.

So. There it is. I defended professional wrestling. This will not be the last time it’s mentioned on this site, but I at least have something to always send people back to when they question me again.

Signing off. In the words of John Cena: Never Give Up.

Peace.