Suzuki and Liger have been feuding violently for most of the year. Suzuki is, on the surface, the furthest thing from Jyushin Liger it is possible to be, while still being a New Japan wrestler. They are, however, two sides of the same profession.
Author: Kid Mankind
We must imagine Generico happy, no longer striving to impress audiences or wrangle opponents, no longer, we hope, hurting himself for art and entertainment. Sami Zayn is less lucky.
Yoshi-Hashi doesn’t have a lot of the things wrestling stars have. He’s not beautiful like Ibushi, or charming like Taguchi, or hard like Ishii. He doesn’t have the natural charisma or athleticism of Nakamura or Okada. He’s not comfortable on mic or powerful in his crowd work. He’s pretty awkward, usually, visibly anxious and vocal about being in pain. His shoulder is always taped, and unlike other wrestlers who wear sleeves or pads or black support wraps, he just wears tape. He’s open about injury in a way most wrestlers, pretending to be gods, aren’t. He’s a good wrestler, technically, but there are lots of good wrestlers.
The Golden Lovers – neither of whom have officially self-identified as queer, or straight, though Kenny’s made a lot of references to dating both men and women – have, over nearly a decade, made queer romance the center of their professional personas in a way no tag team ever has.
There are very few wrestling romances with happy endings, let alone queer romances. However, the Golden Lovers have avoided this cliche, treated their relationship with total solemnity and sincerity – even when they were on opposite sides of the ring.
Wrestling is haunted and one of the things it’s haunted by is racism. The convenient shorthand of racial stereotypes have always had currency in wrestling. The way Eddie Guerrero handled this in all his markets was to lean in.