This essay is the first of three about the issue of determining quality wrestling performances. It is my belief that the contemporary way wrestling journalists grade wrestling matches is broken, antiquated, and never really worked in the first place. Over the next three articles, I’m going to explain my case. 

This first article, The Theory of Quality Wrestling, will discuss how I believe a wrestling match should be judged in theory. The following two articles will go into detail how I find the current system to be unsatisfactory, as well as a practical replacement. 

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When someone goes to university to learn about English literature, the first author they get to study is not Dean Koontz. It’s not Stephanie Meyer. It’s generally William Shakespeare or T.S. Elliott. It’s a crazy idea, but most subjects will introduce a topic by giving an example of why the subject is worthwhile. You’re going to get the greatest hits. The reasons for this may shock you: most subjects have standards that they would like to maintain. However, much like how people who don’t ever read books know of only the Harry Potter series, and most non fans of wrestling know only one of maybe three or four matches in history.^⁠1 The strange thing about this list of matches is that none of them are very good in the eyes of “real” wrestling fans. Rarely has an industry been so misunderstood simply based on the popular version being so different than the way it actually is.

If we are to accept the fact that wrestling is a scripted piece of entertainment, then we should judge it on the basis of its quality. Yes, wrestling has to be placed on a different scale than regular television because its contents are so wildly different as well as its basic system of ethics. So what is a good wrestling match? How does someone who hasn’t spent his entire life watching it determine if what they are watching is worthwhile?

First, one has to realize that wrestling is postmodern entertainment, and this throws the basic rules of plot, setting, and character development out the window. What one must focus on is simply the push and pull of two forces: anticipation and catharsis. Quite simply, a great wrestling match balances these things perfectly. The right amount of anticipation will make the audience want to see the event that you want them to see. The right amount of catharsis will make the audience satisfied. But what is the right amount? Is it the same every time? Is there a formula, as we have been led to believe? I don’t think there is. I honestly believe that the right amount of anticipation and catharsis changes with every match, every story, and every type of audience. This is why it’s insanely difficult to show a match to a non fan and for them to see the same thing as you do; he is essentially viewing a different contest than you are. Whereas you might see a hero and a villain, the non fan likely just sees two guys in spandex. If he does pick out the roles, he will surely miss the subtleties. Match psychology, referenced maneuvers, and motive will all be missing from his vantage point. The non fan might be entertained by a specific move or an individual comment made by the announcers, but it’s a losing battle.  

So, knowing that a wrestling match is completely different depending on the eyes used, how does one give an example of what a great wrestling match is? I’ve made a fairly simple while mathematically impossible formula. X is the number of features a wrestling match has. Features denote the ingredients used to put together the match. Is it a one on one match, or are there more competitors? Are weapons allowed? Signature weapons? ^⁠2 Is the fight fair? What are the various ways in which to win the match? Does the referee get knocked out? Does the fight go into the crowd? Does something seemingly accidental occur? Is the match being fought for belts, pride, women, etc? Finally––and perhaps most importantly––does the audience care about what is happening?

All of these questions can be answered with either a yes/no or a simple explanation. These are objective, and don’t infer a great match in and of themselves. A match involving fifteen wrestlers inside a steel cage, with weapons all around, where victories can be achieved anywhere, where several stints of outside interference occur, and where the winner of the match wins the biggest belt in the company will mostly likely be an absolutely terrible contest. Although wrestling is often a practice in excess, tossing in every possible gimmick and action rarely results in an entertaining product. ^⁠3That’s where our Y axis comes in, and where the math gets mucky. The Y axis is how well each factor in a match is executed, or, rather, if each specific factor adds or detracts from the basic setup of a one on one contest of athletic exhibition. For example, does placing the two wrestlers in a cage make the match better, or worse? Would the match be more entertaining without the added factor? This is a very relative question. Some people really like bloody cage matches. Some people really like matches involving only chops and kicks.^⁠4 Some people don’t enjoy women’s wrestling, while others only enjoy it when the women are wrestling in jello.

How does one gauge quality, when quality in and of itself is completely relative?

This is of course one of the most difficult questions to ask in any realm of popular culture. Wrestling has one distinct advantage over most other mediums, however, and that’s the fact that there are often twenty thousand people in the same room as the performance, and they are generally pretty vocal about what they do and don’t like. It doesn’t matter where a wrestling show takes place, fans will sit on their hands until they see something exciting. ^⁠5The feedback for every moment in a wrestling match is instant and often very clear.

There is a common idiom used by wrestlers; they don’t care if they are boo’d or cheered, so long as the crowd is making noise. Needless to say, this is how they can tell if they’re doing a solid job. So, Y should generally be judged by crowd reaction. If the crowd cheers or boos heavily, that particular factor was executed successfully. Put these two things together, and the right amount of X mixed with the right amount of Y equals a great wrestling match. Basically, use the right amount of gimmick and execute it well.

But even that doesn’t matter, really, not when we take in the absolute most important thing about any wrestling match. This is the point that separates wrestling from any other sport. While many sporting contests will be judged on their great action or unbelievable drama, the only way a wrestling match is ever worth a damn is if the audience cares what happens. ^⁠6

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¹ These matches include: Andy Kauffman vs Jerry Lawler, Hulk Hogan vs André The Giant at Wrestlemania III, and John Cena VS whoever from a random WM main event.

² For instance, some wrestlers have preference for a certain weapon. HHH consistently uses a sledgehammer. Mick Foley tends towards the barb wire baseball bat. The Undertaker enjoys his lightning bolts from the sky.

³ See every Royal Rumble match with the exception of 1992 and 2004, with 1999 being the most glaring example. Also, every single match involving electrocution and/or burial.

⁴ Fans of indie strong-style, mainly.

⁵ The word “exciting” here is pretty relative when you take into consideration over- and under-saturation. Whereas wrestling fans in New Zealand will cheer a body slam, fans in New Jersey will boo for an entire show until someone is set on fire.

⁶ This can happen retroactively, and is because of this a complete nightmare in figuring out what’s good and what isn’t. I’m sorry.

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K Sawyer Paul is an author and publisher living in Toronto. He tweets and tumbls. In the wrestling world he is known for This is Sports Entertainment and Aggressive Art.

Edited by Razor