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Becky Lynch: The Man: Not Your Average Average Girl Review
Image Credit: Simon & Schuster
Loading...Becky Lynch: The Man: Not Your Average Average Girl
384 Pages
Release Date: March 26, 2024
Publisher: Gallery Books
Memoirs are an interesting lot in terms of genre, particularly for celebrities whose entire presence is that of bombastic fame and fortune. What makes them so special, right? Wrestling memoirs are even more specific, with a bulk of fans knowing the tried-and-true rags-to-riches story many times over while still clamoring for unique behind-the-scenes tales of the beloved sport. I would argue that a bulk of fans scurry through the “unique” stories of wrestlers’ upbringings simply to get to “the good stuff” in an effort to validate their all-knowing feelings of the shit show that is the WWE. For the wider audience – the one not so in-the-know, perhaps they’re looking for a tale of motivation – an endearing soul they could relate to that help them get through whatever monumental task may be preventing them from getting to that next level. It’s safe to say that as a memoir, Lynch’s book succeeds at all of the above, in a surprisingly well laid out and easily digestible manner.
It’s easy to fall into the trap of “read one, read them all” when it comes to wrestlers writing books. But for every machine-created book ghost-written for The Rock and Lita, there’s a Mick Foley and Chris Jericho gem. The Young Bucks put out a stinker just a couple of years ago while the aforementioned Jon Moxley book was a wonderful read. So to give credit to Becky Lynch for adding another one to the “good” pile is not only justified, but also a very welcomed addition.
The last wrestling memoir I read was Jon Moxley’s, and it had this definitive conversational tone that matched what one would assume it would be like having a lengthy chat with Moxley over a few drinks. Brash and uniquely Moxley, it read more like a collection of stories told in chronological order than a memoir idealizing himself as a unique icon. In that respect, Lynch shines, going a similar route of combing through her watershed moments in childhood that led her to wrestling. The conversational tone is still very much presence, but one thing Lynch has well above Moxley is that the writing quality is simply better. Whether she had help piecing this together, or this is all just her prowess behind the pen, she did a stellar job, never once overstaying her welcome in one memory and holding true to her voice throughout.
Perhaps the most endearing quality of Becky’s “tell-all” tale is just how willing she is to continuously highlight her failures without ever asking for a reprieve from ridicule. Starting off as a wrestler with a rocket strapped to her is something just a bit different than those we’ve heard before. Often, the story goes that a dreamer dreams, overcomes adversity, succeeds, lives the big time, then asks, “Now what?” Becky’s trajectory may have been the same, but instead of a rocket, there appeared to be a rubber band, pulling her back to the start more than once, and it’s within this sudden rise and fall where her humility shows the most.
Of course, once we approach the WWE machine, we learned that Lynch shared many of the same frustrations we, as fans, did during her rise in what the WWE dubbed the Women’s Revolution. During this time, we see the struggle Becky – and I’m sure many others had – in wanting so badly to represent a movement while, at the same time, being pulled in directions last minute that directly conflicted with said movement. Becky handles it well, not towing the company line, while also not ruffling any feathers too badly. Because of this, it comes off a bit more genuine than some bitter Ronda grapes we’ve been seeing floating around.
Becky’s vulnerability is in full force when we get a peek behind the curtain of her relationship with who we know as Seth Rollins. I found each mention of their relationship adorable and loving, with Rollins being the glass-half-full type of guy that helped Becky to achieve in even the most unsure of endeavors. There are a few instances where Becky has an argument against the creative direction her character goes, and I am angry alongside her, only for her to quote Rollins in saying something that changes not just her mind, but mine too.
Becky also doesn’t shy away from her insecurities outside of the ring, depicting a shy and unsure woman who is simply trying to usher in an entirely new era of women’s wrestling. She struggles with an eating disorder, imposter syndrome, low self-esteem, and even the woes of a love that shouldn’t be. If this all sounds cliché, it’s because we all have faced some, if not all, of these adversities – making her instantly relatable and an underdog without trying to sell herself as one. There’s the rub of a memoir before the age of forty. You don’t want to sound all woe-is-me, but you also have a platform where people may very well ask how you got there – and if the story is a good one-, why not share it?
All in all, Becky Lynch wrote a book. That alone is a feat worthy of praise. But was it any good? In my opinion, it’s one of the better wrestling memoirs out there that hits every mark necessary to be successful. Overcoming adversity? Check. Self-ridicule? Check. Inside scoops? Check. Vulnerability that creates relatability? Check. Moreover, Becky is a damned good writer if I don’t say myself.
The Man did it.
