Tag: NXT

August 2, 2017 /

Some of the very best moments in wrestling are about redemption. Redemption is Miss Elizabeth throwing herself into Randy Savage’s arms; it’s Shawn Michaels saying “I’m sorry, I love you” to Ric Flair; it’s Daniel Bryan holding those two titles aloft in New Orleans. It’s those fleeting moments where something is lifted out of doubt and darkness and held up as worthy, as valued, as clean and bright and true. Wrestling fans, we love a…

February 29, 2016 /

Note: I am a skinny white guy writing an article about a female wrestler’s body, and God knows that there’s been enough of those on the Internet. But while I could write yet another thinkpiece about Kevin Owens in my sleep, that would be kinda cowardly. An easy post. Nia Jax is important, and she deserves an enormous amount of consideration and thought. If I’m not staying in my lane in this article, please let me know…

August 25, 2015 /

Look, hear me out here: I too was initially bitching and moaning about the perplexing botch/screwjob ending of the Brock Lesnar/Undertaker match at Summer Slam. But after sitting with it for a few hours, I was still captivated, unsettled, left wondering what the fuck. “WTF #Summerslam” I tweeted, and then soon realized that was exactly the sentiment I was supposed to carry away from the match. Here’s the thing we tend to forget about wrestling…

May 8, 2015 /

I find myself with a contrary opinion in regards to the story we’re being told about Kevin Owens. I was behind him from the very first day, even as he went about putting my heartthrobs on stretchers. Here was a mercenary prizefighter, an anti-hero so strong and bold that he scorched any possibility of alliance in NXT. He doesn’t need friends, he’s confident in himself and he stands alone. Kevin had no use for aging…

March 5, 2015 /

I grew up in a carny-friendly household and I married a corporate executive. My dad was on a first name basis with a local midget wrestler named Dirty Dan and my aunt and uncle were itinerant sellers of cowboy hats at fairs, festivals, and rodeos across the country. I have met some interesting folks — there’s a certain ethos that is distinctly different from the vibe coming off the corporate set. I grew up around…

February 24, 2015 /

True kayfabe is a rare bird at this stage of history on wrestling’s timeline. The fact that it is a scripted performance is now firmly a “no duh”. Or maybe a “yeah, and?” We all think about the meta in wrestling now, considering it in terms of storyline, product, and character development. We are completely aware that we cheer and boo for quality of performance, intensity of presence, and for surprises we weren’t expecting. It’s…

January 17, 2015 /

Tim at The Work of Wrestling turned me on to these guys and they are brilliant. Political satire for the WWE Universe! Just what we need during these dark times: Kyle and Oliver do awesome covers of WWE entrance songs, Paige’s being perhaps their most kick ass: But their NXT song is more complex than a bold cover — it is a parody delivering a satire that is actually a message of grievance from the…

January 10, 2015 /

Writing about professional wrestling has been for me an exercise in churning out old school critical content at the speed of the internet age. I have learned much! I used to be the type to fiddle with my sentences, question the quality of my thesis, wring my hands for days on end before I felt confident sharing my writing with the world, or anybody. But that doesn’t work when one is writing about wrestling. I’ve…

January 3, 2015 /

It occurs to me that CJ Parker is actually an impressive character. In the era of monster douchebag asshole heels like Seth Rollins and creepy greasy antihero heels like Bray Wyatt and Luke Harper, good on this kid for getting over as a loathsome pussy hippie liberal jobber heel. Sorry to be crude, but I can’t think of a better way to describe CJ Parker. And while he gets his ass kicked every time, he…

December 18, 2014 /

I have precious little to say about TLC which is a shame, because I think so fondly of the days when tables, ladders, and chairs meant something huge. A ladder match used to fill me with fearful excitement, and the crunch of a split table would stir in me a primal thrill. I used to try to write poetry about the iconography of hardcore, hardcore being a kind of revolution, a period of anarchy in…