wrestling / Columns

The New Perspective of a Wrestling Fan

August 9, 2016 | Posted by Len Archibald
CM Punk’s CM Punk WWE - Batista CM Punk’s Booker

Let’s talk about perspective, shall we?

2004: Chris Benoit was the be-all, end-all professional wrestler in my mind. Technical, brutal in his simplistic realism and Canadian, the Crippler/Rabid Wolverine represented everything I loved about the art form. A serious-minded athlete who took his profession seriously and amid all the politics and muck of modern day WWE, reached the mountaintop. Seeing him tap out Triple H in the main event of WrestleMania XX was a cathartic moment to me that proved no matter what, the cream rises to the top. Three years later, reality and gravity hit. What goes up, must come down.

We are all aware of what happened in 2007 and Benoit. Now, he is considered the most polarizing figure in the history of professional wrestling. Yes, we may all have an opinion on John Cena, Triple H and Roman Reigns, but what places Benoit in another echelon altogether is the fact that our feelings about him is rooted in real life. Real life struggles, successes and tragedies. Those all belong to the fans. We live vicariously through these artists and root for the ones that we gravitate to. When those performers succeed, no drug can match that high. When they fail, depart or even worse…sometimes it is hard to recover from or even comprehend the events.

How strange was it for me that on that fateful weekend in June 2007 that Benoit was going to face my new favorite performer, CM Punk. I was certain that Punk was on his way up and winning the ECW Title from Benoit was the first step in a major career where Punk would take his rightful place as one of the top five talents of all time (this was nearly 10 years ago, stop laughing.) How wrong I was about everything. Everything.

When I last wrote for 411, I considered myself some form of silent authority on the “art” of professional wrestling. I wrote about subjects with the hope that I would be able to convince my fellow readers to take a chance on viewing ‘rasslin’ as more than just two, or four, or six or ten guys in spandex “play-fighting”. The art, the rules of the self-imposed universe that wrestling exists in and the morality tales that were told in and outside the ring rose from some of the best literary works. I would break down matches, hold for counterhold, to explain psychology. I broke down metrics and statistics during the whole #cancelwwenetwork fiasco after Roman Reigns won the 2015 Royal Rumble. I tried to examine the seemingly split fan base, who could not decide if they wanted to cheer for work rate or storytelling. I was very serious about my work and my words.

Things do not seem all that serious when you are diagnosed with blocked arteries leading to your brain. Suddenly, nothing matters anymore, except the normal human desire to simply live. What did all those words, all those hours of watching wrestling, all the time involved in trying to make some form of statement within the industry mean if I was no longer alive to share it with others? I took a hiatus from 411. I needed to…not just for my own health, but for my own sanity. Mortality was staring me in the face like the eyes of The Undertaker and it awoke in me a fear I had never experienced before.

Perspective. While I was lying in hospital beds, wondering if the next scope into my brain was going to find the tumor we expected to find, I kept to myself and my wife. I watched wrestling from all channels like it was going out of style. I lapped up as much Lucha Underground, TNA, ROH, New Japan, SHIMMER and WWE that I could muster. I finally checked out old CHIKARA shows and got myself a little more acquainted with All-Japan. I frequented message boards from as many wrestling sites as I could. I never participated, but I wanted to understand the pulse of the fan base and what they were considering as the future of the business. I found a lot of negativity; which should be considered normal. The professional wrestling fan base has always been one of the more fickle and pessimistic, that was a given. With all forms of media and those that surround it, it is always easier to stumble upon the negative nitpickers than those who carry hope and optimism. Film, music, politics, sports…with the explosion of social media, it is easy to drown in the antagonistic cries of trolls, pessimists and those whose attention spans equal nothing more than a fly. Did I mention that I suffer from major depression?

Yeah, I should not have engaged in reading the opinions of those who spoke as fans but whose actual words said they were anything but. This pushed me into a further state of bleakness. Even if I did not feel as they felt, it was soul-crushing to me that the art form I loved so much was subjected to so much venom. Misogynist ramblings about the “Divas/Women’s Revolution” from fans who would never give any of the female competitors an opportunity to prove themselves unless they were “hot”. A wave of an “anti-IWC” agenda, who were pushing back against those who viewed Daniel Bryan, CM Punk and Bret Hart as heroes was sudden. Roman Reigns, who at one point was the most reviled performer in WWE was being viewed in some circles as “underrated” and “misunderstood” by fans who only cheered for those with a specific body type or wrestled a certain style. A dark cloud loomed over me as I read the words of various conspiracy theorists who were determined to convince the entire planet that Vince and Stephanie McMahon were determined to destroy all we love about the professional wrestling business. At that point, I was more than ready to go under the knife.

Perspective. I awoke from my fourth angiogram in a weird state. It was hard to explain, even as an admitted Atheist, but something felt…different. I had no spiritual awakening, nor reached a state of nirvana – but the alignment of the planets was thrown off course. I could not put my finger on it. I continued to binge watch as much wrestling as I could for the next couple of weeks until I got the call from my neurologist that the final results were in and that we needed to visit immediately. As any modern wrestling fan would, I expected the worst. What my neurologist explained to me made complete sense scientifically, but still somehow rocked the very core of my existence.

Two blockages in the arteries to my brain. Two. Most people do not live through this, let alone are able to receive some form of explanation for them. My situation was strangely unique. I escaped my mother’s womb with the flaws in my brain that restricts blood flow, causing headaches, memory loss and even limited motor functions at times. I was born flawed (duh), but my body was able to correct itself. Over the course of my 36 years on Earth, tiny veins emerged, seemingly…sigh…Out of nowhere to make up for the lack of flow within my brain. There were no tumors, no further examinations or surgeries needed. My blockages were a freak occurrence and the resolution was even freakier. Even the neurologist said what I experienced was something that .5% of the entire planet has. The human body is a messed up animal, but even still, my resolution did not make sense. Some of my family attribute this to the power of god, while I continue stubbornly to champion science and reason.

I went back to watching wrestling with a new lease on life and a new point of view. I returned to the message boards and forums with these new eyes and was slightly blown away at what I discovered. It may not make sense to some of you reading this, but it completely resonates with me.

We are all marks.

The terms are becoming a bit on the dated side now, but those types of fans that exist, marks, smarks, spot-monkey junkies, etc. are still spouted off as insults towards fans of wrestling who adhere to a particular style. Some of us live by some internal coda that professional wrestling MUST present itself in “this way” or “that way” that performers MUST carry themselves in a certain fashion and matches and the storylines that lead up to them MUST work out in a specific order of events. A blood feud MUST be presented in a certain fashion or it is hard to convince “others” that the wrestlers hate each other. While some hailed “The Deletion of Jeff Hardy” as a breakthrough peek of the future of professional wrestling, some viewed it as an insult to the very art form they obsess over. We all have an opinion, right? About anything, really.

I took a step back and finally asked myself the questions that I have been unable to answer for as long as I have been hooked on this professional wrestling drug: Why am I a fan? Why do I like what I like? It’s easy to sit behind a keyboard and play Monday (or Tuesday, or Wednesday, or Thursday, or Friday) quarterback, but what really matters is the intent behind the analysis. Why do I like what I like? Why am I more prone to cheer for Kurt Angle as opposed to Braun Stroman? Why is CM Punk my personal professional wrestling Jesus, even if he may never (say never) will walk into a wrestling ring again? Why does my music barometer go crazy when I hear Metalingus and nearly drop off in the other direction when I heard BRIE MODE?

It is not an easy thing for us professional wrestling fans, to be asked to look at themselves in the mirror…imperfections and all, and actually decipher why we have the biases we do, but I do feel to give the industry the right “push” it needs, we need to have a conversation with not just each other, but ourselves. Funnily enough, it is the same conversation we need to have in regards to most of the ills of the world. What are your values? What do you hold dear to? What do you care about and what part do you see yourself playing to make your imprint? When I asked myself these questions, things became terribly clear to me.

First off, as anyone knows, I am Canadian. PROUD of it, too! Canada has such a deep-rooted presence in professional wrestling, that an episode of the old WWE Roundtable shows was devoted to it. I grew up with friends who lived by a simple coda: Born or raised in Canada, you will become a fan of Hockey or Wrestling: most times, you will end up being obsessed with both. Where else can you name Bret Hart and Wayne Gretzky in the same breath and not receive a cross-eyed glance like one arrived from another side of the cosmos? My Canadianism (I just made that word up…I think) explains why I am so attached to whatever comes from the Hart family, or anything Jack Tunney, or Edge & Christian, or Chris Jericho. It is why I am wide-eyed when someone mentions Roddy Piper and I get to boast of his “true” lineage. Why I half-heartedly brag that The Rock is half-Canadian (I know he’s really not, but we have a strange way of thrusting our patriotism on people i.e. Chris Jericho.) Take that into account, and this explains why WrestleMania X or XX at times was the pinnacle for me as a fan. Take that into account, and understand why even though I do not know the man, why I am not a “fan” of Goldberg, or why I am heartbroken when I hear the name Owen Hart. Bret Hart, as the embodiment of the wrestling that I grew up with, represents the style of wrestling I enjoy. Technical, mat-based with Suplexes and counters. Bret Hart, whose patriotism towards his home country sometimes can fall into a nationalist haze bleeds into my fandom of Kurt Angle, who is Hart’s mirror in nearly every single way. Angle, an Olympian, whose credibility is nearly unmatched within the ring as a legitimate real-life grappler. Nearly unmatched, I say, when I consider Brock Lesnar into the fold. Lesnar is essentially the idealized, superhero demon-seed of Hart and Angle…Imagine my joy when I found out he became a naturalized Canadian citizen. If there was a dream Triple Threat match, Hart, Angle and Lesnar would be it. The legacies they have created in the ring is why I smile like a seven year old when I see American Alpha perform.

But I am not only Canadian. For some reason, people identify me as a person of colo(u)r. This is something I admit I have to live with, even though I am not a fan of the whole notion of “race”. With that comes obvious biases and perspectives of the industry. I have honestly soured on the past treatment of performers of color who have been painted by a broad, stereotypical brush. Thankfully, long gone are the days of Samba Simba, Kamala and Cryme Tyme (as much as I enjoyed each in their own, bizarre way.) I wrote a column a couple years back about WWE’s treatment of non-white performers that even examined how WWE has equally saddled Caucasian performers with stereotypical gimmicks that are more fitting as a time capsule of ignorant times than anything else. This does not dismiss the fact though – that until we got to see The Rock, Booker T, Mark Henry and Ron Simmons act like themselves, it has been difficult and a long time coming to fully get behind a professional wrestler of color. But there is progress being made.

Seeing Jay Lethal tear up the independent scene is a joy to behold, even if there are not enough eyes on him right now to appreciate the things he is doing within the industry as a singles competitor. Thank the almighty spaghetti monster for The New Day and the fact that the WWE decided to stick with what even I felt was going to be a terribly insensitive characterization and turned it simply into three guys who are skilled in the ring, but are just nerds. I get that. So I support them…even if some of their segments are near fatal misses. I have some weird silent connection to Apollo Crews, just because I want to see him succeed as a talent, and not as a black talent. Bobby Lashley is exhibiting the greatness he was always capable of if WWE was a little more patient with him in TNA as their dominant champion. Imagine how Darren Young must feel to be able to perform on a large scale and be acknowledged as only a wrestler who wants to “Make America Great Again”. I consider my own patriotism and I empathize with fellow Canuck Sami Zayn, born of Arabs, who is not identified by that at all and how it must be an awesome experience to have for him. Right now, talent means everything and where you come from is not an issue.

But honestly, being Canadian or a POC does not define me. More than anything, is my skepticism that is my defining trait. I consider myself to be a person of reason (most times.) I am not prone to trust others unless it is earned. And even then, it is going to take years of your life before you get the green light from me. When Stone Cold Steve Austin arrived and basically told everyone to kiss his ass and “DTA” and all that jazz, I was hooked. Even if he was the reddest of rednecks, I completely understood being a lone wolf (BBC – Before Baron Corbin). Dropping Austin 3:16 as a delicious piece of sacrilege only put him over the top for me. Why have I always liked performers who likened themselves to snakes…Jake Roberts, who was as cold and calculating as any preacher I have encountered in my experience? Steve Austin, and Randy Orton, the Viper himself? What is it about the swagger of knowing that one is completely an island, void of any full trust in the system around it? I understand what it is like to have to take the bull by the horns and forge my own path, even if I have to be a bit of an asshole. My resolve is absolute (like a Sith, I suppose.)

This is what leads me to CM Punk. I have mentioned in past columns how we may be two sides of the same coin and Punk is essentially me with all the resolve that I do not have. Anarchist, Atheist, born in late October with probably an unhealthy obsession with both hockey and professional wrestling. I took my creativity I learned from the industry and applied it to film criticism and literary ramblings about wrestling itself. Punk took the ball and ran with it to its apex and culminated with the last great WWE Title reign…maybe, truly the LAST GREAT WWE Title reign. Punk, as a devout straight edge disciple (oh, those are terrible words to use) is everything I was not for a time, as I gleefully nearly committed suicide in a lifestyle of drugs and booze. Punk does not know this, nor does he care – nor do I expect him to…but his WWE Title reign helped save my life. When I was going to AA meetings and I had to choose my “higher power”, it was him that I looked to. One more day as champion was one more day I stayed sober. His resolve became my resolve until the time he lost his title to The Rock for “Twice in a Lifetime” and I no longer needed it.

This was a ramble…essentially bringing me to this point: I am not here to write about what I think is “right” or “wrong” with the wrestling industry, its fans, the storylines and byproducts of the internal political structure of the business. There really is no right or wrong. I know this much…if you are upset that one of your favorites is not being showcased enough, or that another performer you loathe is getting too much of the spotlight, you are reacting exactly as intended. Sometimes we give the industry too much credit or not enough at all for certain aspects of its art. When Triple H mentioned we were in the “Reality Era”, I think I finally understand what he meant. When reports about WWE going back towards “shades of grey”, despite there still being clear cut heels and faces for years after the fact, it made perfect sense.

Perspective. It does not matter who you don’t like in wrestling. It matters who you DO like. Who are the performers that best align with your values? What are the storylines that you gravitate towards? I thought that if I shouted from the mountaintop that this individual was “undeserving” of being showcased, I could initiate change. That was foolish. The truth is every performer that is walking and destroying their bodies for our amusement and entertainment is deserving of a spot and a chance to prove themselves. They may not align with what some of us consider the “ideal” professional wrestler…but what is that anyway? There are so many tropes, so many types and styles that it is impossible to pinpoint it down to an exact science. The wrestlers you like, the Zack Ryders, Becky Lynchs, etc. that may not be given a fair shake are still around, performing for your entertainment. They know you exist. If they didn’t, they would not be even around for us to complain about their “spot”. Keep cheering them on. Continuing to egg on Eva Marie is only going to give her a title shot (which, honestly, I would sit back with popcorn and enjoy viewing the meltdown of our collective minds) – but make no mistake about it, we are giving her, and WWE a visceral reaction that they want.

Any professional wrestling promoter that knows what they are doing fully understands the compartmental mindset of the individual fan and exploits it. After looking backwards in history from the WWE Cruiserweight Classic to WrestleMania IX and the fateful night Hulk Hogan won his fifth WWF Title from Yokozuna after Bret Hart’s “blessing”, it is pretty clear that the argument we fans have had with WWE and ourselves in regards to what makes the “perfect” professional wrestler is a moot point. Ric Flair recently was put on blast by us when he mentioned that he would not think a Cruiserweight would ever main event WrestleMania while conveniently forgetting about the man who retired him…who is considered in most circles as the greatest in-ring performer of all time, a delicious paradox that explains our subconscious fascination with size and “the look” but ultimately pure in-ring talent is what will always be appreciated. Honestly, though – forget about The Nature Boy’s words…they are his opinion; which really is all that our fandom boils down to. The platform that I am grateful to have to spout my love of the industry is littered with opinions. My thoughts of the industry is just that as well. Those opinions have been shaped and molded over years of personal triumph, heartbreak, success and tragedy in my personal life. Just as the opinions of all who frequent this site, other sites, and other wrestling promotions and obsess over other performers have been etched out of their own personal experiences living on this earth. There are seven billion lives on this planet…who knows what miniscule percentage of that are die-hard fans of professional wrestling – but it is a significant enough number that there would be no way to calculate precisely what everyone enjoys and prefers out of the art form. It really IS impossible to please everyone…maybe even a losing battle to satisfy a majority of fans simply because our tastes differ so much based on our own personal experiences that shape our preferences.

Which is why right now at this very moment, it is an AWESOME time to be a fan. WWE exists to satisfy the majority fan base as well as push the technological boundaries of how to reach them. New Japan’s following has finally begun to break past the barriers of the East and the small number of tape traders who only knew of those performers. TNA has become the Keith Richards of the industry, refusing to lay down and die every time their demise has been predicted. I am rooting for them to succeed in spite of the obvious ineptitude from their management at times. Ring of Honor continues to provide the independent pipeline to the next level of exposure, with PWG and EVOLVE nipping at their heels. Lucha Underground has become the new millennium’s answer to ECW, the televised alternative that is clearly leading the charge for the future of storytelling and presentation of the art. We are seeing better wrestling, match for match and performer to performer than any time in history. Stereotypes based on culture and gender are being broken down every single day, where more people from all walks of life can take a chance to succeed as a performer and not be shunned for the superficial reasons they may have been rejected for even a decade ago. One only needs to look at a map of the entire planet so they could be swallowed by the amount of independent promotions that exist. For $10, a super fan can hop on a bus or drive to a nearby arena, bingo hall, high school gym or makeshift television studio and become immersed in the unlimited number of worlds and styles the professional wrestling landscape has to offer. Just here in Lima, Ohio, we have W.A.R. (Wrestling and Respect), who has consistently promoted engaging shows for over thirteen years, and has made enough of a mark that they are heavily involved in community outreach and are respected as a thriving business. Perhaps in terms of mainstream acceptance, the wrestling fan base has shrunken…but I would be interested to see the numbers of fans around the world and compare those numbers to ten years ago. I would not be surprised if the overall number of those who identify themselves as wrestling fans globally has grown. That is my hope.

This is the new perspective that I own. I have taken a look at the professional wrestling landscape, and I am no longer beholden to the thoughts and ideas of everyone else. Even though I may have similar opinions, they may align only in conjunction of the specific scenario at the time and will not be part of any hive mind. I am an individual fan, with individual tastes, that is not better or worse than anyone else. My only hope is to break the notion that we as fans (especially the “IWC”) are not reserved to any one opinion on a match or artist or storyline or promotion. Not everything will be great, but honestly, not everything is the end of the world, either.

It really is a great time to be alive.

I really would like to thank Larry, Jeremy, Ashish and the rest of the 411Mania family for welcoming me back with open arms and you, the 411Mania readers for keeping me in your thoughts and embracing my return to writing. Thank you so very much.

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