Dear Pro Wrestling,
As a lifelong “lucha-dork,” I currently find myself standing on the top rope, afraid of heights. Wrestling was always my escape from the hustle and bustle of this thing called life. Whenever I was feeling down, the cartoony and sometimes over-the-top wrestling from my childhood always lifted me.
Wrestling got me through my shy, lonely teenage years, into adulthood, and was my guide through life’s letdowns. Wrasslin’ was a true friend. Now, with TKO Group Holdings in charge of World Wrestling Entertainment, my old friend is now a mere acquaintance.
My earliest memory of wrestling is Hulk Hogan. Like most 80s kids, his larger-than-life charisma and “24-inch pythons” pulled me in. “Let me tell you somethin’, Brother…” Dude was everywhere: television, movies, and merch. A mainstream star with the complexion of a burned hot dog, muscles upon muscles, he was just cool. A perfect champion for the Rock N’ Wrestling era of the World Wrestling Federation (now WWE).
While Hulkamania was running wild, heels like the flawless and cocky Mr. Perfect, the “Million Dollar Man” Ted DiBiase and his flashy suits and a fistful of hundos grabbed my attention. As did the soft-spoken, coldness of Jake “The Snake” Roberts. For whatever reason, the bad guys were so much cooler to ten-year-old me.
Childhood Memories…
Looking back… playing on the living room carpet with those big rubber LJN action figures, WOW. What a time to be alive. No height was too high for those indestructible rubber bohemoths, jumping and thumping from the kitchen table, clear across the room to their untimely demise… Never mind, the dog broke his fall.
Soon, the LJNs were demoted to the bottom of the toybox, and Hasbro stepped between the ropes. These six-inch plastic figures were articulate and performed actual wrestling moves. Much different than their solid rubber predecessor. Before long, I had assembled a larger collection of miniature grapplers; they fit in my pocket, so they were ready to battle anywhere, anytime.
What’s not to love? Where else could someone witness a plumber fight with a garbage man on a Saturday morning… Home Depot? I once watched a guy superkick his best friend and throw him through a barber shop window, and another guy get tied up in the ropes and bitten by a cobra. All of this happened while I was eating Cheerios in my pajamas.
“Don’t try this at home…”
It was a message that fell on deaf ears. What I actually heard was, “Don’t hurt your brother.” I was perfecting wrestling moves like the Sharpshooter, Figure Four leg lock, and my personal favorite, the Texas Cloverleaf, when nobody was looking. Accidental bumps and bruises followed by unwritten receipts of retaliation. Nobody really got hurt, just a few close calls.
As the stars became more prominent, the marketability of wrestling became a big business. No longer were wrestlers strictly used to sell toys and t-shirts. The WWF’s owner, Vince McMahon, recognized this more than anyone. Soon, kids everywhere were “Snapping into a Slim Jim” and hiding their Honey Comb cereal from hungry Giants. I remember Hulk Hogan selling me Right Guard deodorant.
This Means War…
As its popularity grew, pro wrestling developed an attitude… Spearheaded by a foul-mouthed, bald-headed, beer-swilling Texan, “Stone Cold” Steve Austin, the Attitude Era cared less about attracting children and focused more on a mature audience. By this point, I was in high school, so whatever they were selling, I was buying.
Edgier characters, racier storylines, more violence, and half-naked women all became part of their weekly show, Monday Night Raw. Fans stopped “saying their prayers and eating their vitamins” and went around telling others to “suck it” while gesturing towards their crotch. Times had changed.
Hulk Hogan followed the money and jumped ship to the WWF’s rival, World Championship Wrestling (WCW). Others like Scott Hall and Kevin Nash would soon follow. Following the Outsiders’ invasion of WCW, a New World Order of wrestling emerged… WWF’s D-Generation X drove a tank to the arena at WCW Monday Nitro.
And with ths, the battle lines between WWF and WCW were drawn. New stars like Goldberg and The Rock were born on the battlefield between the ropes of the squared circle. Wrestling’s Monday Night Wars lasted five and a half years, until Vince McMahon bought his competition.
While WWF and WCW were battling for TV ratings and one-upmanship, a smaller promotion based out of Pennsylvania was making waves by packing a Philadelphia bingo hall. Extreme Championship Wrestling had “attitude” before it was cool.
They built a rabid and loyal fanbase by offering a bloodier, more extreme product. ECW gave several future WWE stars their start. WWE Hall of Famers Rob Van Dam and the Dudley Boyz carried the ECW banner before WWE came calling. ECW owner Paul Heyman even gave a newly fired (by WCW) Steve Austin a live mic before the WWF made him “the Ring Master.”
While McMahon bought all of his competitors, WCW and ECW, I had aspirations of my own to be either a rodeo clown or a professional wrestler. I had hoped to attend a wrestling school run by the legendary Ox Baker (I met Baker at a Wendy’s in Willimantic, CT, when I was ten years old), but I wanted to add muscle. I was only 165 lbs, soaking wet. No matter what I did, I couldn’t add the 20 lbs I felt I needed. A few years later, I had kids and overshot my goal weight by like 20 lbs. Needless to say, I never followed my dream or became a rodeo clown.
You Can’t See This…
In the early 2000s, I met a young bodybuilder-turned-wrestler, John Cena, at WWE SmackDown. He was the prototype of what a champion should look like. After a face-to-face confrontation with Olympic hero Kurt Angle, the world got to see the “Ruthless Aggression” that catapulted him to superstardom and a legacy lasting nearly 25 years. His hustle, loyalty, and respect made him a 17-time world champion. His popularity with children altered the trajectory of the WWE once again.
McMahon saw the marketability of Cena and milked that cash cow dry… Cena ended up being arguably the greatest pro wrestler of all time. Every city that he goes to, chants of “Let’s go Cena/ Cena sucks!” echo through the air. The audience eats out of the palm of his hand, and he can sell the heck out of a t-shirt. Children started to attend shows donning hats and shirts with his slogan, “You Can’t See Me” on the back. But we could all see you, John. You were the best thing going.
The newly christened “PG Era” brought wrestling back to families. Affordable tickets, merchandise, and the release of over 700 Cena action figures to date have made wrestling mainstream for kids again. While I never stopped watching, I did take a brief commercial break from the action as I started a family. Once my daughter was old enough to watch something besides Disney, I introduced her to my old friend… After receiving an elbow drop off the couch from her when I fell asleep one evening, I knew she was hooked, too.
Passing the Torch
Her obsession with John Cena rekindled my passion for wrestling again. I bought her the t-shirts, action figures, posters, and magazines. Anything with Cena. A few years later, my son came along, and much like his sister, he loved John Cena (and Rey Mysterio). Before long, he had stolen many of his sister’s figures. He had his stolen Cena, Mysterio, and a few others. The first figure that he picked out for himself was Mark Henry. He still has those figures 14 years later.
Being a father gave me a second wind. The excitement in their faces was the same exuberance that I felt as a kid. I couldn’t wait to tell them that we were going to watch RAW in person at the XL Center in Hartford, CT. My son’s night was quickly ruined, though, when the loud pyro of the Dudley Boyz scared him so much that at he was resigned to sulking in his seat and covering his ears… I waited in the merch line for what felt like 27 years to get him a program and a Kalisto luchador mask. His smile made the endless wait worth it.
We waited a few years before going to another live show. We attended a Northeast Wrestling show and met some wrestlers for autographs. My son got to meet his hero, Rey Mysterio. They even had a ringside interaction before his match. Mysterio held my son’s head and pressed his forehead to my son’s and whispered, “Booyaka.” It was the best day of my son’s life… and probably Rey’s as well. My son is pretty awesome.
Days of our Lives
A few years have passed since then. I got divorced, my daughter grew up, and left wrestling behind. But she still casually pays attention, and my son and I still attend meet-and-greets and collect wrestling memorabilia. Wrestling helped me through my divorce.
I started collecting wrestling action figures again and found a community of wrestling fans that I didn’t know existed… Facebook figure collecting groups. One of my best friends lives 1,000 miles away, and we have never met in person, but we talk almost every day. Wrestling did that. Wrestling fans have millions of stories of how the sport has impacted their lives.
We all have memories of the first time we watched, what drew us in, our first live show, our favorite match… Wrestling is like music; each match tells a story and evokes emotion. I remember the joyous occasion of Randy Savage and Miss Elizabeth’s wedding and the real-life heartbreak of Bray Wyatt’s death. Wrestling isn’t always so deep. Sometimes an 80-year-old woman gives birth to a rubber hand, and sometimes the son of a “son-of-a-plumber” comes back to finish his story at WrestleMania.
Fresh out of the Box
The landscape of professional wrestling has undergone drastic changes in the last seven years. In 2019, a new competitor stepped into the ring: All Elite Wrestling did its best WCW impression by signing former WWE talent, and gave Vince McMahon’s company actual competition for the first time in 18 years. It was refreshing to see—fresh new talent stories, and wrestling product… but soon the freshness went stale. An over-saturation of talent with nothing to do and real-life backstage drama sucked the breath from AEW’s lungs.
Over the years, McMahon has had more than his share of controversy. From destroying the once sacred wrestling territories system and going national, to the steroid scandal of the 80s. But the only thing that could take Vince McMahon down was Vince McMahon himself.
The “Mr. McMahon” persona was a scumbag… sadly, we didn’t know just how close to life that character really was. In 2022, he was forced to step down as CEO and chairman of WWE due to numerous “hush money” allegations. His daughter, Stephanie, took over the reins when he retired from WWE. As it turns out, Mr. McMahon retired, not Vince.
Before we could forget about Vinny Mac, he came back to run the show. This time, the shameful wrestling genius came into power to sell the company to TKO. Once TKO had control, McMahon was named executive chairman… before resigning following more allegations of sex trafficking and sexual assault. While he is currently being probed by the feds, I find myself reluctantly longing for the wrestling of yesterday. My wrestling.
You Can’t See Me… Anymore.
Here we are, sitting in 2025. Waiting for what’s next. The family-owned WWE is a corporate sell-out. Hulk Hogan has moved on to the big wrestling ring in the sky, and we are a mere month away from John Cena walking down the ramp for the final time. I see glimmers of promise in the young stars of NXT. The future is bright, but the wrestling that I love will soon be gone… the last time is now.
Lately, the only feeling that wrestling gives me anymore is frustration. Since TKO bought WWE from McMahon a couple of years ago, the art of storytelling has gone out the window. In its place, we have recycled stories and rivalries.
Gone are affordable-priced tickets, allowing families to have a nice night out watching scripted fights unfold before their eyes. With sold-out shows across the globe, from Australia to Saudi Arabia, and a multi-billion-dollar media deal with ESPN, TKO has made it clear that wrestling is a business; it is no longer family entertainment. No longer a friend, but a business partner. I want MY wrestling back. I miss my old friend.
Sincerely,
Your Old Friend
