10 Ways Pro-Wrestling Changed My Life
CM Punk delivers the “Pipebomb promo”.
I’m thirty six years old and I’ve been a wrestling fan for about twenty four of them. In that time, pro-wrestling has played a pivotal role in my life, serving as more than mere entertainment. Pro-wrestling has inspired me to be a better writer, a better podcaster, and a better person.
It has enlightened me on the role art plays in our lives, and it’s made me appreciate the craft that goes into constructing a wrestling match. I’ve gained friends and colleagues through pro-wrestling, people I trust and admire. Put simply, I can’t separate my growth as a person from my fandom of pro-wrestling. Realizing that, I decided to create this list, Ten Ways Pro-Wrestling Changed My Life.
Let’s begin…
10.
Thunderlips
Sylvester Stallone (left) vs Thunderlips (right) in Rocky III.
I still think Hulk Hogan’s turn as Thunderlips in Rocky III is the best thing he’s ever done in his entire career. He shows an emotional range and humanity completely absent from every iteration of the Hulk. His best moment in the film is when he goes to meet Rocky after their fight and says, “Good match”. Rocky asks, “Hey why’d you get so crazy on me out there?” Thunderlips responds, breaking character, “That’s the name of the game”. With that one line Thunderlips formed my understanding of professional wrestling. I saw it when I was around four or five years old so there was never a period of time where I watched wrestling and didn’t know it was all an elaborate story. That’s actually what I always liked about it. I understood that these were larger than life characters clashing in the ring for the sake of my enjoyment.
It made wrestling more special, not less.
Had this understanding not been forged in the pleasant world of Rocky I might have had an entirely different experience of the art. So I can honestly say Rock III, and the Thunderlips scene, shaped my understanding of wrestling and, therefore, the direction of my life.
9.
A Ghost
Dean Ambrose and a ghost at Hell In A Cell.
2014 was an excellent year for WWE, and The Dean Ambrose/Seth Rollins rivalry was a big reason why. Their feud felt appropriately epic, both young, fresh talents battling for that top spot, fueled by betrayal and a thirst for revenge. Their Summer Slam lumberjack match was great fun (go back and watch it again, it’s worth it) and their Hell In A Cell match was set to be a brutal crescendo the likes of which we hadn’t seen in WWE for years.
Well, not so fast.
The match itself was average, but it was the conclusion that leaves such a sour taste till this day. The lights go out just as Ambrose is about to Curb Stomp Rollins on a cinderblock. Then the camera fades in to show Ambrose standing in the corner of the ring as he stares, fearfully, at the flickering image of a ghost rising up out of the center of the ring. Bray Wyatt bursts through the smoky apparition to truck Ambrose. He then performs a Uranage on Ambrose, allowing Rollins to score the pin. It was an anticlimactic conclusion (to put it kindly) to an otherwise flawless rivalry. But how did this ghost change my life?
This experience taught me to never place my faith in anything WWE does, especially something good. It’s a hard lesson to learn, but I’ve been burnt so many times (before the ghost and after) that purely out of self-preservation it’s become healthy to maintain a certain emotional distance from WWE programming.
You never know when something zany and ridiculous is going to smash through the wall, Kool-Aid-Man-style, and spoil the party.
8.
AEW Is Born
Tony Khan, owner of AEW.
It can’t be overstated how important AEW is. It is a much-needed alternative to WWE’s programming, bringing competition back to the wrestling scene. I was skeptical at first, especially after the first Dynamite. It seemed a little too similar to WWE for my taste. But then, over the course of several months, the differences (some subtle) took shape. No impromptu matches, a rankings system, unscripted (or less scripted) promos, and a wider variety of wrestling styles. The main difference between AEW and WWE that’s still true is the level of enthusiasm of the audience. Dynamite is consistently loud and ecstatic, unlike Raw and SmackDown which have become eerily quiet. There is life and energy behind AEW’s weekly TV, and that’s one of the main reasons it’s so fun to watch and analyze. I can’t overstate how transformative it’s been to have this other wrestling product to examine. It’s given me a second breath after years of cynicism and frustration. AEW is by no means perfect (just look at the way they book women), but it is consistent.
For three years the company has crafted layered, interesting stories about the nature of good and evil and the clash between traditional and modern forms of masculinity. AEW has revitalized tag team wrestling for the mainstream, showcased comedy in wrestling, and delivered some of the best matches of the modern era. As an analyst, having AEW has been nothing short of life-changing. I have new thoughts, new takes, new frustrations, and new things to get excited about. AEW’s colorful cast of characters is inviting and exciting, ranging from the dramatic to the comedic and everything in-between. Above all, AEW has reinvigorated my love of professional wrestling, and I’m reminded of that fact even when an episode of Dynamite isn’t particularly good.
I’m grateful for the existence of this promotion, and I look forward to seeing where it goes in the future.
7.
Paul Heyman
Paul Heyman of WWE.
In the summer of 2014 I was discovering myself as a pro-wrestling analyst. I started writing editorials rather than just reviews of Monday Night Raw, and my analytical mechanism was getting stronger as a result. Then John Cena vs Brock Lesnar at Summer Slam happened and everything changed. The symbolic power of watching Superman (Cena) utterly decimated by kryptonite was enthralling. Suddenly wrestling wasn’t just a series of wrestling moves - it was epic storytelling. The more I thought about it, the more it revealed itself to me. I wrote one article about how John Cena represents the fantasy of the WWE and Brock Lesnar represents the cold fist of reality, and it caught the eye of a particular advocate.
Paul Heyman read it and Tweeted this to me:
Paul Heyman responding to Tim Kail’s article.
Getting that recognition was validating, especially because of how much I value Heyman’s thoughts and opinions. Heyman would even start to use the fantasy/reality dichotomy in his promos! This period of time represented an unexpected synergy between my fandom and my developing analytical style. It cemented this as something I not only want to do, but could do well enough to get noticed by one of the preeminent minds in professional wrestling.
6.
Wrestle Mania 35
Tim Kail at WrestleMania 35.
Years of analyzing professional wrestling had left me jaded. I especially didn’t think highly of other wrestling fans. Even so, in the winter of 2018, when I realized WrestleMania would be held in New Jersey, I thought…why not? I enlisted my fellow New Yorker and friend, Rob, to join me. What I found there, waiting in lines and packing into the tiny nosebleed seats of MetLife, completely surprised me.
I found my people, my tribe.
We cheered together, laughed together, successfully killed a wave together, and sang together. It was an entirely joyous experience, made all the better by the history-making championship victories of Kofi Kingston and Becky Lynch. As I sat there, allowing the show to wash over me, I felt a palpable sense of connection with the pro-wrestling fan in a way I never could have predicted. I lucked out with my section - people were genuinely funny rather than annoying. I had also undergone a transformation over the couple years I’d stopped analyzing wrestling regularly. I’d grown into someone who could appreciate, broadly, an experience like WrestleMania without letting the little details like discomfort or even some annoying fans to bother me. I’d become a calmer, more appreciative person and so I was able to fully and freely enjoy the WrestleMania experience. It renewed my faith in the fans and the medium, and I’ve been back to analyzing the art ever since.
5.
My Friend, Al
Al Monelli (left) and Tim Kail (right).
We all need that friend who introduces us to new things, serving as a curator of artistic experiences. For me, that was Al Monelli, and pro-wrestling was his art. I’d been a fan since my teens, but it wasn’t until I met Al that I knew what real wrestling-knowledge looked like. A diehard Bret Hart fan, Al introduced me to Beyond The Mat and Wrestling With Shadows. He had every WrestleMania on DVD, and allowed me to watch them. We would watch Raw every Monday together in our dorm and, gradually, my understanding of the art expanded. I remember one night where I explained to Al what the next sequence of events would be, and he proclaimed, “That’s it, Tim! You’re getting it. You’re now a wrestling guru”. Al was also a resolute John Cena fan at a time when it was very uncool to like John Cena (2005-2009). I always admired that, Al’s unflappable conviction in what he loved.
It’s easy to say that without Al, I wouldn’t be a pro-wrestling critic. I wouldn’t have my website nor my podcast, and so my life simply wouldn’t be as good. Thank you, Al.
You’re The Man.
4.
The Rock
The Rock posing with the WWF Championship
Growing up, I needed an escape from reality. I also needed a mentor to teach me about being a self-possessed man. Enter The Rock. Apart from giving me something to look forward to every week, The Rock, in 2000-2002, provided me a strong male role model that I didn’t have in real life. He was funny, charming, powerful, and could defend himself against all challengers. I felt safe watching The Rock, and like everything was going to be okay. I eagerly anticipated every Raw and SmackDown, and sought out his every television appearance. I wanted to be exactly like him, so I practiced promos in the bathroom, tried to get my hair cut like his, and I was certain I’d be 6’5” just like him (I’m 5’9” so I didn’t quite make it).
He was, and continues to be, an inspiration. He would leave WWE for Hollywood and my interest in WWE would wane, but nothing could ever tarnish those handful of years I looked up to him. And, just recently, my fandom of him has been renewed. I eagerly await his next post on Instagram, marveling at his productivity. I even modeled my current writing regimen after him, waking up at 7:00 am on Saturday to write my weekly article, now eleven weeks in a row. And I’ve started working out and being more mindful of what I eat. Even after all these year, I’m still basically a kid at heart, admiring this man’s work, finding inspiration in everything he does. Without The Rock my teens would have been even worse. It’s thanks to him I have some fond memories from that time.
3.
The Steve Austin Show
Stone Cold Steve Austin recording a podcast in a WWE studio.
The Steve Austin Show provides a free pro-wrestling education from one of the art’s greatest minds. Steve changed my life when he broke down his WrestleMania 13 match against Bret Hart, revealing the psychology of his character and the subtle choices he made to sell the damage he’d received. Hearing this breakdown while watching the match cracked open my brain. Suddenly, I understood pro-wrestling in a deeper way. My analytical mechanism improved dramatically after hearing Steve’s insights, but that’s not the only time the Steve Austin podcast changed my life.
Through a bit of luck and good timing, Steve invited me onto his show:
We talked for an hour about pro-wrestling’s past, present, and future. I didn’t tell Steve this, but getting on his show was one of my primary goals, starting in 2014. After I achieved that dream, I didn’t quite know what to do with myself. I didn’t capitalize on the influx of listeners and readers.
I was burnt out, so I went on a hiatus and lost that potential audience. I’ve been kicking myself ever since.
Regardless, I can still say I was on the Steve Austin Show, and I learned an invaluable lesson; make the most of opportunities when they come along.
2.
Mick Foley
Tim Kail (left) with Mick Foley (right).
There’s a good chance you’re reading this sentence right now because of Mick Foley. That’s how crucial Mick was to the early success of The Work Of Wrestling. He championed my writing, sharing almost every article on his Facebook page with over a million of his fans. One of my articles, The Reality of Wrestling: Or Why Everything Is Fake, got over 100,000 clicks. He mentioned me on Chris Jericho’s podcast and, most recently, on Foley Is Pod. He’s been a steadfast supporter of my work and it all started with my review of his documentary I Am Santa Clause back in 2014. I finally got to meet Mick in Manhattan at his one-man-show in 2019 during the meet and greet portion.
“Hi, Mick, I’m Tim Kail,” I said, extending my hand.
“You’re Tim?!” he exclaimed, jumping out of his chair to wrap me in a giant bear hug. It was a great moment that went exactly as I’d hoped.
Mick is among the first to appreciate my work and share it publicly. I’ll always be grateful to him for that. He provided the emotional boost and support I needed at a time when I really needed it, encouraging me to keep writing even when I doubted myself.
1.
The Pipebomb
For those who don’t know, “The Pipebomb” refers to a promo by CM Punk in 2011 where he aired his grievances with WWE. It’s an eloquent tirade that forever shifted the direction of professional wrestling. It’s possible to trace a lot of modern pro-wrestling back to this promo. It serves as a kind of wrestling Rosetta Stone.
I can also trace my wrestling-mind back to this promo, when it was thoroughly blown. I needed to learn more about pro-wrestling to better understand what CM Punk was talking about. First, I learned the difference between a “shoot” and a “work”. Then, I learned about New Japan Pro-Wrestling and Ring of Honor. Then, I learned about Colt Cabana, which naturally led to learning about pro-wrestling podcasting and the IWC.
On and on it goes, this one promo nudging me into a higher wrestling IQ.
This promo also brought me back into wrestling, like many disenchanted fans. Punk’s anger and frustration mirrored my own in my mid-twenties, and in him I found a new kind of role model. He forever changed the way I view and critique professional wrestling. By being exposed to another level of “the work” of wrestling, I appreciated the craft that much more. It shaped my views in a profound way, and to this day represents an inflection point in the collective pro-wrestling fan-consciousness. It’s important to note that “The Pipebomb” endures not because Punk slings dirt, but because it’s a beautifully constructed promo. Punk begins with his forth wall nudging theses: he hates the lie that John Cena is the best because he’s the actual best. He then waxes philosophic about the company squandering his talent, but he never loses focus on the fact that he’s going to defeat John Cena at the upcoming pay-per-view. He repeats the date, the opponent, and the goal again and again. Then he turns his attention to the fans, who keep pouring money into the company despite its failures. It’s a thoughtful screed that rouses the wrestling fan, diehard and casual alike.
It’s safe to say that without this promo I simply would not be where I am today. I just wouldn’t look at wrestling the same way.
Punk deepened my fandom and captured my imagination. No matter what anyone thinks of him, he changed pro-wrestling.
The thread that ties these ten points together is the expansion of my mind.
Each point revealed a little more about the true nature of professional wrestling; that it is an art, rich with meaning.
Professional wrestling has been, and continues to be, a nourishing resource in my life, consistently surprising me in how it evolves. Every person on this list played a valuable role in shaping my life as a pro-wrestling writer and podcaster - they gave me inspiration and helped me find an audience.
I endeavor to pay if forward by writing articles and producing podcasts that do the same for others.
Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this article check out some others. You should also subscribe to my podcast The Work Of Wrestling (available for free wherever you get your pods every Monday). If you’d like to support me subscribe to my Patreon and you’ll get two exclusive podcasts every month. If you’re in need of a new wrestling tee-shirt visit my store at Pro-Wrestling Tees. Thank you again. May the Moment of Pop be with you!