Let me talk about wrestling...

So the title of this does a lot of the leg work for this paragraph. The thing with wrestling is I haven't always always watched it. There was a long portion of time after high school that I just didn't really care about it. I was essentially bullied out of my enjoyment by people who watched UFC and had never been in a real fight in their life. High school fucking blows... anyways, wrestling came back to me with a lot of things I was reclaiming from people who told me what I shouldn't like. I realized it was always the characters that I cared more about. These people becoming invested in their character to become something greater. It honestly feels like something primal at times, like how warriors used to invoke great legends and paint their faces to have some of their power. That is actually the basis for a promo by Finn Balor where he details various Irish legends and how he can embody them to become more than human. Ignoring the tacky visuals, it feels like this is getting to some of the draw for me. Those warriors knew that they were going to be seen by their enemies and by being seen as some great monster or hero would then become that. It is just that in this case the one that is looking at these warriors to make them greater is the audience.

Wait, no... I don't think that is it exactly. There is something else that is going on with my love of wrestling that I just can't put my finger on. Hmm, I think it is best if I go through my favourite wrestlers as I grew up. It might make more sense like that...

When I was first introduced to wrestling it was through my uncle (who ended up being one of the largest assholes I have come to know but we move) and in what is commonly called "The Attitude Era". It was commonly heralded as the greatest era of wrestling by many online because of the bigger than life characters and the ability to break into the mainstream in a way that wasn't seen in a long time. This is the era of The Rock, Stone Cold Steve Austin, Triple H, Chris Jericho, and other huge names were making arenas explode into applause and boos with crude jokes and excessive violence. Out of them all a young me looked at the bandana clad, motorcycle driving, trench coat wearing Undertaker and became fixated. Sure, the bike was cool... okay, the bike was really cool, but it was more the presence that he radiated that stuck with me. When he stepped into the ring, a room, or wherever he was in control. I didn't understand the history of the Undertaker until he was buried alive by his brother, Kane (yes, wrestling is weird and this was actually a match stipulation) and then came back something else entirely. The Undertaker went from being the "American Badass" and went back to his roots as "The Dead Man".

It was Wrestlemania 20, the biggest North American wrestling event of the year. There was a match where Kane was going to face his older brother he had presumably killed months prior. It was here that Undertakers entrance was heralded by cloaked figures holding torches and a deep purple light that came over the arena. The man that walked out from the entrance was no longer clad in something that you would see in the parking lot of a fast food joint near a highway but now looked like a depiction of death from an old western movie. Instead of the brash confidence there was the slow and unhurried movement of something inevitable. This was no longer a man that walked to the ring but an entity. This entirely drew me in when I was young, not the spooky lightning or dumb lightning powers, but the presence that this identity held over everyone. When the bell tolled the audience knew that the closest thing to a religious experience they were going to see in wrestling was going to occur, and they were going to be a part of it. Over time I learnt about the business and the man behind the persona, much of the magic faded as I watched the Undertaker become merely an attraction among a variety of other wrestlers.

That is the danger of becoming attached to a wrestler though, they are a worker for a company that makes decisions that aren't necessarily in line with what you see. Upon coming back to wrestling years later I came to see a different product. One that it had felt like was risk adverse and had moved away from telling the stories. Now was an era of making safe bets on known commodities to offer the most consistent paydays for the company. Among the toned and chiseled physiques of the wrestlers who would get on the mic to talk through stilted promos from a script there was an oddity. He would talk about how the establishment wanted to break you down, how your heroes were fooling you, and about following the buzzards. Bray Wyatt was a southern minister mixed with a doomsday cult leader and wrestled like a someone who was more interested in hurt someone than protecting themself. I was instantly drawn in, especially with a notably Undertaker like entrance, because he was relatable. I saw a person that was, honestly, shaped like me and said things that made sense if you took the time to listen. The Wyatt family captured my imagination in a way that had not happened in years. Unlike the supernatural entity that the Undertaker was depicting Bray Wyatt was tangible, he was decidedly real... that is until the WWE decided he shouldn't be.

Bray Wyatt's treatment by WWE was heartbreaking and I was forced to come to terms that the potential I saw in him was not seen by Vince McMahon. This was the major reason I stopped watching wrestling for a long time. I had to watch Bray put through story lines that made little sense only to lose them all the while providing something so notably different. Recently, Bray Wyatt has taken on the persona of The Fiend. A being which is birthed from the exact frustrations I have been describing. It was a tiny ray of hope, but seeing the way this vision is being corrupted at the moment has me yet again turning my back on WWE.

Luckily, WWE is no longer the sole provider of wrestling that is easy to access in North Amercia without having to stay up or interact with dubious websites (which I still do on occassion). AEW is now my go to home of wrestling and it is has entirely reignited my passion of seeing men engage in performance combat. Seeing a product that, despite the bumps in the road on occasion, I can trust that they will provide me something I can enjoy allows me to engage in the product like I had in the past. I don't have to worry about them ruining my favourite wrestlers. I still have my opinions about how certain wrestlers are being misused (I'm looking at you Shawn Spears and Alan Angels) but for the most part I am so happy to see so many talented people get the attention that they deserve.

Thus I find myself having a favourite wrestler yet again. You might be seeing a trend starting. You would probably guess that my favourite wrestler is some supernaturally empowered entity with palpable charisma. I am going to have to disappoint you but my favourite wrestler is actually a short and angry British man who has provided the most consistently high quality matches I have ever seen. This man is "The Bastard" PAC, I don't know what PAC stands for and I don't need to. I just have never encountered someone whose whole being, from coming down to the ring till the end of the match, is purely fixated on beat his opponent in such a manner that nobody will question his supremacy. My friend has described him as a cougar hunting his prey and I think that is one of the most apt descriptions of his matches. Watching a PAC match feels like every bit of offense that he gets in is meant to break the opponents will and any come back he makes is as if it is frustration boiling over from having been bested in some manner. He puts himself on a pedestal and punishes anyone that tries to knock him off, successful or not. This is not solely done in the ring either. When PAC has a mic his tone is venomous as he points out the flaws and mistakes of his opponents. His solo promos sound like a man who hates the world and wants to win purely so he can look down at everyone he has beaten and tell them "I told you I would". He is man fixated on not just winning but proving to the world that has pushed him aside too many times that he is never to be ignored.

I have always watched wrestling for these big personalities. These three individuals are entirely different to one another but they have allowed me to believe in them. Being able to believe in something, even if it is as dumb as a spooky zombie man that shoot lightning, and being able to maintain that wonderment at the world has always been something I have struggled with. Whether it is schoolyard bullies or just the way the world likes to step on you when given the opportunity. It feels like you need a reason for everything to at least defend yourself. When it comes to wrestling I have learnt that I don't need a reason, I like it. Are there things I can point towards and say that I like during a match? Sure. I have favourite wrestlers, moments, moves, merch, you name it. Some of those have a reason, some don't. I am okay with that. Its a weird transition to make having been taught to think empirically about the world around you but to realize that is just not how you work, or really anyone does.

Anyways, this is kind of a little thing I have been meaning to write for a long time and decided to do that now on the verge of my 29th birthday while listening to a playlist made for me by a friend across an ocean. So, I guess this is my own birthday gift to myself... so happy birthday, me. Let's do our best because that is all we can do.