Seven or eight years ago, professional wrestling was at its peak.

It was integrated

with mainstream pop culture. People of all ages were wrestling fans. This is because the

programming was cutting-edge and entertaining. These days, however, it has lost a

significant amount of popularity. It is almost to the point, in fact, that I feel like I am part

of a separate culture by being a wrestling fan. It has been my task to investigate why that

is. To start, I’ve interpreted what I already knew about North American wrestling culture;

the measuring stick, however, comes from the differences I found in other cultures of

professional wrestling.

In the 1980’s, the World Wrestling Federation began heavy implementation of

over-the-top gimmick characters. For instance, the apparently unstoppable Hulk Hogan

became a household name through the use of exaggerated speeches (or, in wrestling

lingo, “promos”) and pure heroics. Other flamboyant characters, such as the guitar-

playing Honky Tonk Man, Kamala the Ugandan Giant (Fig. 1), and the cross-dressing

Adrian Adonis also appeared. Around this time, the term “sports entertainment” began

circulating, as wrestling companies and fans alike came to accept the fact that wrestling

was scripted, and therefore more a performing art than an actual sport. Along with the

shifting public perspective of pro wrestling came a willingness from the average fan to

suspend disbelief and enjoy an exciting, and frequently humorous, show. Despite being

obviously violent, the setting of the WWF was one which could be supposedly enjoyed

by the whole family.

After a decade or so of domination by consummate “good guys” like Hogan,

however, the fans craved more, which caused characters with more than one dimension to

emerge. The Undertaker, who debuted in 1990, was a highly popular character who grew
darker and more demonic with time (Fig. 2). Shrouded in darkness and mystery, he was –

and still is – a force not to be reckoned with in the ring. Although perhaps he was still

one-dimensional in his gimmickry, it could be seen that fans loved his dark, supernatural

qualities. Because of this response to the audience, wrestling maintained its position as a

popular form of mainstream entertainment.

Meanwhile, a small Philadelphia-based promotion known as Extreme

Championship Wrestling was taking a different approach. Operating inside a bingo hall

for a relatively small fanbase, ECW avoided insulting the fans’ intelligence by aiming for

realism. It also targeted a more adult audience, as opposed to the WWF’s targeting of

children. Although clearly agreeing that wrestling was entertainment, ECW workers did

not so blatantly allow their events to simply be a “show.” With the promotion’s specialty

being hardcore rules (allowing the use of weapons), the matches were gruelingly painful

and taxing on the wrestlers. Some of the more dangerous match types included the

flaming tables match, the barbed-wire ring rope match, and the Taipei Death Match (in

which wrestlers glued shards of glass to their wrist taping). Also, Paul Heyman, the head

of ECW, often told his workers to say what they actually felt as real people when they

were on-camera. Although the wrestlers were still characters, they were generally mere

exaggerations of the actual people. With the wrestlers given a good amount of control

over their own characters, the company had a great amount of underground success, and

became arguably the forerunner in independent promotions (companies with little or no

television exposure).

What made ECW truly different, though, was its connection to the fans. Recently,

WWE released a DVD entitled The Rise and Fall of ECW. At one point in an interview
on the DVD, former ECW wrestler Chris Jericho said, “You [the fans] really felt like you

were part of something special, and it was something special.” The die-hard ECW

supporters made sure the seats were filled up at every show, and showed a great

appreciation for the wrestlers. Whether it was cheering and applauding a “face” (a good

guy) or booing and throwing obscenities at a “heel” (a bad guy), the workers were always

sure to receive a tremendous reaction from the bloodthirsty crowd. In turn, the wrestlers

generally made sure to go the extra mile and acknowledge the fans; this often included

speaking to a few fans in the front row during a match, or insulting particular audience

members to receive a heel reaction. Possibly the greatest example of crowd participation

was the infamous chair riot, in which hardcore wrestler Terry Funk asked the fans for a

chair to use as a weapon; as a result, nearly all the fans in the arena simultaneously threw

their own chairs into the ring.

Gradually, the counterculture of ECW became known to the mainstream – by

word of mouth and some minor television exposure – and gained a large following. Soon,

the era of cartoon gimmicks would come to an end, and the “Attitude Era” would be

born. In 1996, ex-ECW wrestler “Stone Cold” Steve Austin made a name for himself in

the WWF, through the use of his foul language, beer drinking, and defiance of authority.

His mean-spirited character, which he had developed during his stay in ECW, was what

caught the attention of the fans. Although the character was designed to be an evil heel,

the fans accepted him as more of an anti-hero; what the fans had always wanted to do,

Austin actually did. Because the key demographic of pro wrestling was a lower-middle

class, blue-collar male, the average fan wanted an “everyman” to idolize. Austin, a

“redneck” from Texas who liked to hunt, was that man. When wrestling reached its peak
around 1998, viewers would tune in every week to see Stone Cold cause damage to his

evil boss and owner of the WWF, Vince McMahon. Some of these more notable

shenanigans included being arrested, only to break back into the arena by driving a

zamboni; filling McMahon’s convertible with cement; attacking McMahon in the hospital

with a bedpan; threatening to shoot McMahon (Fig. 3); and, arguably best of all, driving a

Coor’s Light truck up to the ring and using a hose to drench McMahon and his cohorts

with beer.

The Attitude Era was a time of edgy, controversial programming. On-camera

swearing became more prevalent, especially with the popularity of Stone Cold, and

storylines also became more risqué. Sex appeal was used tremendously, as women

abandoned their backseat roles as mere valets of male wrestlers. Given the title of

“Divas,” women began to wear skimpy clothing, and gimmick matches like mud

wrestling and “bra and panties” matches started to occupy airtime. Needless to say, this

did not cause the young adult male demographic to lose motivation to watch the show.

The WWF continued to push the envelope, especially because they were in direct

competition with World Championship Wrestling, which attempted to create a similar

setting of swearing and sex. Apparently, WCW failed, because it was eventually bought

out, along with ECW, by the WWF in 2001. Many wrestling fans agree that the purchases

of WCW and ECW marked the end of the Attitude Era, as the WWF – which soon after

changed its name to World Wrestling Entertainment – no longer needed to outdo another

promotion, either in terms of edginess or otherwise. Ratings soon decreased, as did the

fanbase.
 Perhaps the best way to describe what WWE has now become would be to

describe the first live event I experienced: the Survivor Series pay-per-view event in

November 2004. When I first sat down in the Gund Arena in Cleveland, what caught my

eye was the large, flashy stage (Fig. 4). Although the extra décor served no purpose, the

set seemed like a way for WWE to declare its success and power. Some friends whom

I’ve talked to over the past few years have said that they simply do not like the flashiness

of the current WWE; the Attitude Era WWF had a simpler set and was closer to the

underground feel found in ECW. I also noticed that, by the time the event had begun,

many of the seats were not filled. Only a few years earlier, the arena would have been

filled to capacity. Despite this, I still felt like I was simply another twenty dollars in Vince

McMahon’s pocket. I was surrounded by thousands of other fans, and as soon as I had

entered the building, I had bought a T-shirt. Other than speaking to the merchandise

vendor, I had no contact with any WWE staff. It was like I wasn’t an audience member;

instead, I was a consumer.

In terms of the wrestling itself, the show was decent enough to be enjoyed.

Nothing very edgy happened, though; in fact, the whole event was rather tame, and

actually somewhat reminiscent of the WWF in the early nineties. The two biggest crowd

reactions of the night came from two particular entrances: First, the Undertaker received

a standing ovation of screams and cheers when the lights dimmed and a graveyard bell

tolled. As he slowly walked down to the ring, fog covered the ramp, and an eerie feeling

sent shivers down my spine.

An even bigger reaction came from the crowd, though, when John Cena made his

way to the ring. Cena, whose character is that of a caucasian rapper, was quickly making
his rise to the top of the ranks at the time of this event. Like Stone Cold, his character was

designed to be a heel: an annoying white kid from West Newbury, Massachusetts, who

would create absolutely horrific “raps” about his opponents. Over time, however, his

promos became quite clever, and he actually became rather stylish (Fig. 5). The fans soon

came to adore him. Now, in the middle of 2006, he is the current WWE Champion, and

has been for over a year now – a considerable amount of time for a championship reign.

Critics argue that he has remained the champion for so long because he is the top

merchandise seller. Cena is very popular with fans around the age of twelve; and the

middle-lower class urban kids, whom have now become a central target of WWE

programming, can buy multiple pieces of Cena merchandise at a time. For instance, it

would be possible to go to WWE’s website and purchase a John Cena t-shirt, teddy bear,

visor, wristbands, chain necklace, and custom “spinner” championship belt all at once.

The kids think that Cena is “cool,” because he has the kind of style that is currently

popular. Cena’s urban appeal is an interesting contrast to Steve Austin’s rural appeal of

years past. Perhaps the central audience has shifted; or perhaps mainstream American

culture in general has shifted to a more urban, “hip-hop” orientation.

Regardless, in the ring, Cena is nothing exceptional. Supposedly, he has what

WWE refers to as a “main-event style.” This means that he simply punches and kicks his

opponents a good bit, before using the same five or six moves – in generally the same

order – to finish every match. The worst part about this is that his finisher, the “F-U,”

does not anatomically seem to do much damage. On top of his matches being predictable

and boring, many of his promos have become bland and generic. For months now, Cena

has retained his status as a babyface, but at many shows, over half the fans have heavily
booed him. For the most part, the 18-34 aged male audience wants him to lose the

championship. Now, despite the fact that wrestling is scripted, the championship is meant

to show in whom the company is giving the greatest investment. The champion is

supposed to extract the biggest reaction from the crowd, and be the most entertaining on

the microphone and in the ring. Why, then, does Cena keep winning? Why is the

company ignoring the fans? I, as well as many other fans, believe there are two reasons in

particular: First of all, his aforementioned merchandise sells a great deal. Secondly, he

has a big “superstar” look. Vince McMahon holds “traditional” wrestling values, and

believes that bigger wrestlers should always be given a greater push, despite how terrible

they may be in the ring. This is not necessarily a bad thing, except that smaller,

lightweight wrestlers are therefore misused.

While Cena is the WWE Champion on the Monday show RAW, the 5’3”, 140 lbs.

Rey Mysterio (Fig. 6) is the current World Champion on Friday Night SmackDown!. As

opposed to winning nearly every match like Cena, Mysterio has lost over half his

matches since he became champion two months ago. Granted, he has not lost the title yet,

but he has not been allowed to use many of the moves in his arsenal. Both his offense and

defense have been severely limited, and he has been made to look weak. Being of

Mexican descent, Mysterio comes from the world of Lucha Libre (Mexican wrestling).

His style is categorized as technical, high-flying, and quick. When used properly, he is

truly incredible to watch in the ring. However, he is nothing more than mediocre on the

microphone. This, combined with his small stature, has made it difficult for WWE to

deem him a credible champion. Mysterio has not been the only misused lightweight

wrestler in WWE, however. Other wrestlers, like the world-famous and very talented
Ultimo Dragon of Japan, have lost most of their matches and given little television time.

Several have left the company because they either were fired or did not want to be further

misused. Fortunately for these smaller wrestlers, WWE is not the only wrestling

promotion in America.

The two largest independent promotions in the USA right now are Total Nonstop

Action and Ring of Honor. Now, RoH fully accepts that small wrestlers can be talented

and pushed to the top. TNA also believes this, but is in a strange middle-ground between

RoH and WWE. Because TNA wants to soon directly compete with WWE, as did the late

WCW, the main-event scene in the promotion is dominated by large men – some of

whom are not very talented. The idea behind this is that the WWE fans actually enjoy the

WWE main-event scene, so TNA wishes to match this. TNA’s “X-Division”, on the other

hand, is a very impressive display of lightweights that also wrestle, not coincidentally, in

Ring of Honor. The culture of the TNA audience, then, is a mixture between the

mainstream WWE and the underground RoH.

It could be said that RoH has now taken the place of ECW, by being an

independent promotion that does not insult the fans’ intelligence. Although RoH does not

have the same hardcore culture, it is still designed to be something special that

incorporates the fans as being more than just consumers. It also practices ECW’s old

methods of including various styles in its wrestling. British and Canadian technical

wrestling are represented by esteemed grapplers such as Nigel McGuiness and “The

American Dragon” Bryan Danielson. A common occurrence in RoH matches is the

“tope,” a term used for moves in which a wrestler runs and dives over the ropes to his

opponent outside of the ring. This is a maneuver that stems from Lucha Libre. Other
visually spectacular moves, including many variants of the “hurricanrana” headscissors

takedown, also have their origin in Mexico. Impressive aerial maneuvers like the

moonsault (Fig. 7), a backflip splash from the top rope, were invented in Japan and

brought over to the United States. Although these moves are sometimes used in WWE,

they are more prevalent in TNA and RoH.

What should be noted are the methods of cultural exchange presented here. Some

of these styles were transferred via Japanese and Mexican wrestlers who came to the

United States, like Rey Mysterio and Ultimo Dragon. ECW hired some Mexican

wrestlers, which created a bridge between North American wrestling and Lucha Libre.

WCW, likewise, made a deal with New Japan Pro Wrestling to bring Japanese wrestlers

to the USA. However, more often than not, North American wrestlers went to work in

other countries, and adapted the native style into their own. Chris Benoit, a Canadian who

now works for WWE, wrestled in Japan for a few years under the name of Wild Pegasus.

Upon his return, he had acquired not only several new moves (Fig. 8), but also an even

greater appreciation for the sport. Several American workers have since adopted a similar

style. Many other wrestlers have also wrestled in Japan, only to improve their careers. In

this case, the cultural exchange was not simply brought to America; the wrestler sought

out the education, with a willingness to learn about a different culture.

One such wrestler who recently trained in Japan was an American known as

Samoa Joe. Trained by Shinya Hashimoto, his training was nothing like it was in

America. On Joe’s website, he wrote the following about a particular training session

with Hashimoto:
 Once at a preliminary training session, Hashimoto had quizzed a group of

relatively clueless gaijin about the most important aspect of Professional

Wrestling. Answers sprung forth pleading a case for "Technique" and

"Psychology", but Hashimoto simply pointed at his eyes and said "The Fire". The

fire, the burning spirit, the unyielding will, even in the face of insurmountable

challenges. With a simple gesture and the most intense stare I had ever seen I

understood all these things that I have just listed and nodded in compliance.

This might seem like the kind of discussion that would possibly occur at a martial arts

dojo, but for this to happen during training for a scripted sport might seem very surprising

– that is, to an American. In Japan, wrestling (or “Puroresu”; “Puro” for short) is held

with a much higher respect than in North America, by both wrestlers and the general

public. Some of this actually stems from the fact that it incorporates elements of martial

arts. Anyone who has watched a Samoa Joe match can agree that his use of intense kicks

and chops is something that does not have simply a wrestling origin.

On October 1, 2005, Joe truly put his Puro abilities to the test. In what some think

was the greatest RoH match ever, Samoe Joe faced Kenta Kobashi – a metaphorical god

in Japanese wrestling. I recently purchased the DVD of this event, and the following are

my observations. Many fans have called it a 5-star spectacle; although the match could

have used more actual wrestling maneuvers, it was nothing short of brutal. Several times

Joe grabbed Kobashi by the head and repeatedly kicked him in the skull, to the point

where it almost hurt just to watch. Three times Kobashi gave Joe the Tiger Suplex ’85, an

extremely dangerous move in which the victim falls directly on the back of his neck. The

high point of the match, however, was when Kobashi backed Joe into the corner, and for
almost three minutes straight did nothing but chop him in the chest at half-second

intervals (Fig. 9). By the end of the match, Joe’s chest was literally welting. This was not

merely a scripted wrestling match. This was an intense performance, in which both

competitors took their bodies to the limit. B. Thompson Stroud, who writes for the

website www.progressiveboink.com, was in attendance during the Joe/Kobashi match,

and later wrote about the experience. The following is an excerpt from the article:

These men who have outlined my memories began to stand around me.

Seven-hundred in a five. People with lives and histories and spirits. Souls. And for

this moment, crowded arm-to-arm in the lobby of a New York Hotel they became

the most perfect and clearly illustrated extension of me and my heart that I have

ever known. Every single person. We were all me. Kobashi and Joe chopped each

other as hard as they could, back and forth, the sounds of flesh on blood and

hearts pounding, and we gave them of ourselves, because they have given us

ourselves. They stopped to put their hands on each of our shoulders and say, "I

know, that's why I do this." Unspoken and barely understood. But more powerful

than the foundation holding up the building we filled.

Kenta Kobashi versus Samoa Joe, the one-time attraction match for an

independently funded and run Northeastern wrestling promotion who have never

filled the Superdome or the Egg, helped me know in one of these moments in my

life of appreciation, respect, and pure, unadulterated love. Two guys in their

underwear pretending to hit each other has done it again, like it has always found

a way to do from time to time, since the dawn. I've sat through it all. Every

moment of it, from before I was born until long after the day I die. "You did it
right," I wanted to say. "You're inside of us all." Joe was lifted and dropped on his

head. He smiled at me and said, "Yeah, I know." I patted him on the kickpad when

he came flying into the front row. I like to think that's when we had our moment,

even if he was me and his foot, and he was in pain on the ground.

When Kobashi came to retrieve him from the front row, I backed up and

sat down. I didn't pat him anywhere. I didn't realize I'd done it until Folby told me

about it in the triple-file line. I wasn't sure why I hadn't. I was enjoying myself,

and when the wrestler you like is standing in front of you you try to high-five him

or at least pat him on the shoulder, to show him that you're in cahoots. I was

almost afraid. Reverent? Oh My God Kenta Kobashi Dude I Know. Each word

starting with a capital letter. The little orange ticket turned into diamond between

my fingers.

The ticket bought you an 8 x 10 and an autograph. We stood, and waited.

Daniels walked by, aligned with Folby. Claudio walked by. The others. Before I

could quip that Jay Lethal's submission moves are "more like Gay Lethal" he was

there, Kobashi, taking photographs for Japanese photographers and sitting, a

towel wrapped around his neck, for us.

That's the thing about professional wrestling. In boxing, the boxers

compete for the title for themselves. They train to win bouts to make money. In

mixed-martial arts, the MMA fighters fight it out as hard as they can for pride,

victory, respect. Money, even. And though wrestlers obviously make money, what

they do is not technically a REAL sport. People say that it's a bad thing. The worst

thing you can do. Shitty wrestlers on made-for-TV specials sneer and say YOU
 THINK WRESTLING IS FAKE, GET IN THE RING AND I'LL SHOW YOU

HOW FAKE IT IS. But it is, still. The wrestlers don't compete with each other

legitimately for titles for themselves. They make their money whether they win or

lose. Their pride, victory, and respect amongst themselves is earned on paper

before the show. Do you know what the beautiful thing is? They aren't doing it for

themselves. They're doing it for us.

Stroud beautifully illustrates two things in this excerpt: For one thing, he shows the

intensity brought into the ring by the two competitors. For another, he shows what effect

the experience had on the crowd; it was as if everyone was united with the wrestlers. The

RoH crowd, much like the ECW crowd, is able to come together through the shared

experience of a wrestling match. In fact, this is what wrestling does in general. Even at

the WWE events I’ve attended, I’ve been able to slightly form a bond with the fans sitting

around me.

However, Ring of Honor seems to have something different from other

promotions. I recently attended a Ring of Honor event in Cleveland, and it was a great

experience. It was the first RoH show I’d been to, so I was not sure of what to expect.

During the first match, a wrestler whom I did not recognize was in the ring. The only

distinguishable identity I could find were the initials on the back of his singlet, which

read “CK3.” I asked my friend what the initials stood for, and he didn’t know. In the

middle of our discussion, a man sitting in front of us turned around and said in what

seemed to be an elitist tone, “It’s Conrad Kennedy the Third.” I wondered if he felt like

we were dumb wrestling fans, who didn’t deserve to be in the same crowd as him.

However, as the show went on, we found ourselves joking with him about the happenings
in the ring, and other crowd members joined in with us. By the end of the night, it seemed

like we had made twenty new friends. The interesting thing about this was that we all

seemed to come from different walks of life. We were suburban college students. The

man in front of us appeared to be a lower-class middle-aged man, perhaps from a rural

area. The high school kids sitting next to us looked like they could have been suburban

like us, but they wore a very different style than we did. The man behind us seemed like

he might have been homeless. None of this mattered, though. Our different experiences

were forgotten, as we shared the experience of watching a wrestling event. Plus, we

weren’t simply consumers or casual fans who happened to hear about a WWE event that

was coming to town; we loved wrestling, so we paid attention to the independent

promotions, and waited for a chance to come together. Our cultures of origin took a

backseat as we all enjoyed the culture of Ring of Honor wrestling. Before the show even

ended, I knew that Stroud was correct in his assessment of the RoH crowd. It is a culture

in and of itself.

Perhaps this is the difference between Ring of Honor and World Wrestling

Entertainment. Whereas RoH draws from other wrestling cultures, WWE tends to ignore

them. When a Japanese wrestler enters the WWE, it is almost guaranteed that his

gimmick will simply be that he’s Japanese; and then, his move repertoire is “WWE-ized”

and limited to only a few key moves. The same goes for Mexican wrestlers in the WWE.

Even though Rey Mysterio’s character at first reflected in ECW upon his name, which

translates into the “King of Mystery,” his character is now a short Mexican in a mask.

Even the significance of his mask is ignored; no one seems to know what it means.
 The other difference between RoH and WWE is that, after extracting from other

cultures, the Ring of Honor culture is still self-contained. It is a culture that focuses on

wrestling. WWE, on the other hand, is a wrestling culture that focuses on pop culture.

The WWE Champion is the champion because he is a cool rapper. Storylines are created

by writers who, instead of having experience with wrestling, have the job because they

couldn’t find employment in Hollywood. Certain characters are given airtime because

they speak about a political issue, and women are in the company so that they can

eventually be featured in Playboy. In the midst of all these pop culture references, a

wrestling fan must ask “What does this have to do with wrestling?”

The strange thing is that WWE still has a massive following. This must say

something about the audience. They do not want to go to the wrestling. Rather, they want

the wrestling to come to them. Steve Austin was a roaring success because anyone could

turn on the television and see a character to whom they could relate. John Cena can

likewise connect with the fans. If Kenta Kobashi came to WWE, though, the casual

audience would be distant from him – what do they know about Puroresu? It is a foreign

culture of which they are not a part. The independent wrestling culture exists in itself

because it only contains people who want to immerse themselves in wrestling. As such,

they study other wrestling cultures, in an effort to cultivate their own culture. The cultural

exchange of wrestling, therefore, only occurs for the fans who consider their own

personal culture to be wrestling.

 Bibliography

Joe Vs. Kobashi. Ring of Honor. DVD. 2005.

Obsessed with Wrestling. 6 June 2006 <http://www.obsessedwithwrestling.com>.

Samoa Joe. “Arigato Hakaio.” Online Posting. 11 July 2005. 6 June 2006

<http://xsweatpeax.livejournal.com/>.

Stroud, B. Thompson. “Joe and Kobashi.” Progressive Boink. 18 October 2005. 6 June

2006 <http://www.progressiveboink.com/archive/kobashi.htm>.

The Rise and Fall of ECW. World Wrestling Entertainment Home Video. DVD. 2005.