Like many in the pro-wrestling community the first time I ever saw Bray Wyatt was when he debuted on the main roster, Luke Harper and Erik Rowan at his side. I then watched, over the next several months, as this transfixing character grabbed hold of the hearts and minds of the audience. Everything he did intoxicated us. I particularly remember his unnerving renditions of “He’s got the whole world in his hands…” and the crowd singing it back in unison. Bray’s entrance music was distinct and eerie in a mediocre soup of rock riffs. He seemed to glide to the ring as his fireflies - wrestling fans with their cell phone flashlights turned on in the dark - guided him toward the ring. That use of technology, the natural evolution of holding a lighter up, was a literal manifestation of the metaphorical relationship between character and fan.
Read MoreThe opening segment of this week's Monday Night Raw is a light shining at us from the future, illuminating what the WWE could (and hopefully will) become one day.
In it, Roman Reigns, yet again irate at the absence of his WrestleMania opponent, Brock Lesnar, took to the microphone to air his grievances.
Brock, in Roman's words, "Didn't show up to work".
This has been the essence of his problem with Lesnar, and the basis of their WrestleMania rematch. Roman, regardless of the crowd's perpetually mixed-to-negative reaction to him, always shows up to work. He "busts his ass" for the business that's "in his blood", and, just like the fans, he's sick and tired of Brock Lesnar only showing up to work "when the money is right or the city is right". He believes The Universal Champion should be a full-time member of the WWE roster; an unconditional leader of the locker-room and the company.
Read MoreProfessional wrestling is on the verge of a renaissance.
The signs are there, if you’re keen to see them.
This potential revival can be traced back to CM Punk’s "Shoot Heard Round The World". The effects of that single promo continue to radiate throughout the professional wrestling community and particularly in the WWE; namely in the current top program that revolves around Paul Heyman and Brock Lesnar. If CM Punk had not incorporated their names into that promo, would we be seeing them at the top of the mountain today? Had CM Punk not talked about Triple H and Stephanie McMahon in that promo, would The Authority stable exist today?
Read MoreI believe in professional wrestling.
Like any other storytelling medium, the theater of pro-wrestling can inspire, enlighten, and unite. The transcendent power of a pro-wrestling match is best comprehended by those viewers caught in The Moment of Pop - that instant where the onlooker forgets what they're watching is staged and is inspired to rise to their feet or sink into their seat.
In that millisecond of purity, all contrivance fades.
Read MoreOn January 28th, 2018, two performers of Japanese descent, Shinsuke Nakamura and Asuka, won their respective Royal Rumble matches.
This was a defining moment both in pro-wrestling history, and in my personal pro-wrestling fandom.
When you’re an ethnic minority, growing up a pro-wrestling fan presents a challenge.
Pro-Wrestling's xenophobic roots result in the depiction of ethnic minorities as the heels (villains) opposite the "All-American" babyfaces (heroes). We are represented by racial caricatures and stereotypes that are designed to emphasize one’s foreignness. It’s a constant reminder that we are the “other”; that the way we look, the way we sound, the way we act inevitably elicits boos.
Read MoreLast night's Raw ended with Stephanie McMahon announcing the inaugural Women’s Royal Rumble match at the forthcoming annual pay-per-view.
This is a welcome announcement that instantaneously makes next year’s Rumble more interesting and essential-viewing. Over the next six weeks, fans will watch this match take shape, and discuss who it should bolster, how it will be structured, and what surprises may be in store. This is all good, and it’s reassuring to see the WWE do the obviously right thing.
Fans should definitely be happy, but fans should also be asking, “What happens after?”
Read MoreWatch pro-wrestling long enough, and you begin to recognize the patterns of wrestling matches and the tropes of the medium: the heel cheats, the babyface "comes back", groups and teams inevitably betray each other, veterans "pass the torch", and on and on it goes in an endless merry-go-round of (hopefully) joy and wonder.
Eventually, you may even want to see some of these patterns and tropes at work because they provide a sense of comfort, a return to your once simplistic, romanticized view of right & wrong.
Read MoreI stood with my hands in my pockets and my eyes on the floor, waiting for the next stall or urinal to open up. We were a pack of shifty men, unaccustomed to bathroom lines. A father and a son talked about Spiderman: Homecoming (the movie we'd all just finished watching) behind me. The father liked it. The son wasn't so sure. Both loved Michael Keaton. Most of us were quiet save a few customary post-pee man-grunts.
A stall door opened, and a bearded young man exited. He wore a Bullet Club tee-shirt. I recognized the skull and crossed AKs immediately. Even though I knew nothing about the Bullet Club (other than the fact that they exist and are important in indy wrestling) I experienced the warmth of recognition.
A fellow wrestling fan!
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Kenny Omega drove his knee into the side of Okada's head.
There was an audible pop as boot met flesh, and Okada tumbled to the canvas, devastated. The crowd, enraptured by every strike, let out an awe-struck gasp (this knee was particularly vicious). That gasp spread out as a wave within the arena, and then fractured into light clapping and sporadic cries of "Kennnnnyyyyyy!"
My jaw was firmly on the floor. My eyes were stretched wide, straining to confirm what they had just seen.
Was this real? How could that have just happened?
Well...yes, it was real. It was New Japan Pro-Wrestling. And I was in love.
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I held Anakin Skywalker in my hands, and I felt nothing.
For the first time in my life, an action figure wasn’t anything more than a piece of cheap plastic. His poorly molded head stared up at me, devoid of magic. His unarticulated arm was stiff so that a lightsaber would go in and out the hilt extending from his hand, making it appear as though the blade could be turned on and off; the kind of gimmick I always hated even as a little kid. Toys with “Chop action!” buttons, bells, and whistles assumed I didn’t have an imagination. His fixed pose felt like an insult to my intelligence.
My mom sat next to me in the car, watching me open two more figures inspired by Attack of the Clones: a similarly stiff Obi-Wan Kenobi and a tiny Padme Amidala. We were in the parking lot of Wal-Mart, our custom during these sacred action figure openings.
Read MoreA prone Dolph Ziggler lay flat on his face in the middle of the ring. He struggled to regain his bearings as Baron Corbin approached with a steel chair in hand. Having just earned a nefarious victory over ‘The Showoff’ wasn’t enough; the vitriolic fire in Corbin’s heart would continue to rage until the satisfactory pound of flesh was properly extricated from Ziggler’s battered physique. Luckily Kalisto, a previous victim of Corbin’s post-match antics, raced down the entrance ramp just in time to chase the cowardly heel away and save his friend from further violence.
This familiar pro wrestling scene took place on the first SmackDown Live of 2017 and came on the heels of a satisfying resurgence of Ziggler’s babyface character thanks to a compelling program with The Miz in the later stages of the previous year.
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