Questions about WWE: is it real or fake?

The question that has been asked ever since the world of WWE began is: is WWE real or fake?

“Wrestling is fake,” he sneered, walking away from the television while motioning dismissively with his hand.

The comment wrenches away your concentration from the screen and you look up at him in incredulity, even as The Rock continues targeting a handcuffed Mankind with chair shots – each one clattering off his unprotected cranium.

The audience had been worked up to a frenzied uproar at the amount of punishment that is being dealt to the most pain-hungry man in the WWE. No one takes a beating like Mick Foley. No one enjoys it quite like him too. Hands secured behind his back and utterly indefensible, he walks forward head-first into each chair shot – willingly. The audience “oooh” and “aaah” each time it comes crashing down on him like a clap of thunder.

The year was 1999. The setting, Royal Rumble. WWE Champion Mankind had goaded the young challenger, a cocksure corporate sell-out, to agree to a match that he knew would find him out of his depth.

It was a match that required a man to pound his opponent into submission physically and mentally; to the point where he could no longer suffer anymore and uttered the two words that there is no coming back from, the two words that would haunt him for the rest of his career.

It was an “I Quit” match.

Now for a man like Mick Foley who ate chair shots for breakfast, it was not just a match that he wouldn’t lose... it was one that he was incapable of losing. In his deranged mind, there was only one way that the match could end. And that was if The Rock’s arms tired from the feral beating he was dishing out.

Quitting was simply out of the question.

As each deliberate chair shot found its mark, the stain of red on Mankind’s forehead deepened, dragging along with it the mood in the arena.

But you...you weren’t paying attention to the television screen.

Instead, you were busy boring holes into the back of your friend’s head. Yes, the same one who wrote off the spectacle that was unfolding with ill-informed ease and walked away– he had called it fake.

Welcome, to the life of a pro wrestling fan.

A Finely Balanced Act

When contending with people that don’t quite realise the intensity, commitment or risks involved in what they’re witnessing, pro wrestling can be a hard sell on face value. It is an industry that has been widely propagated as “fake”, and the emphasis that pro wrestlers place on working safely – meaning that they’re obviously trying to not hit each other – actually ties in with that narrative.

But spare a thought for their predicament too.

Pro wrestlers work over 200 shows a year, meaning that it is literally impossible for them to work in any other way but safe. They tread a thin, unforgiving line while doing so – convincing the audience of the realism in their actions while ensuring that their colleagues don’t get seriously injured.

It’s really quite a complex juggling act, especially when you take into account the breakneck speed at which all of the action unfurls.

All it takes is one stray knee, one over-zealous hip toss, one errant kick or one ill-advised head butt for the safety net to come unglued. Bones have been broken, ligaments snapped, facial features disfigured and careers rammed shut in the blink of an eye.

In that instant, when what was never ‘supposed’ to happen manifests anyway, you’re jolted into a brusque realisation that pro wrestling is only ‘safe’ as long as pro wrestlers will it to be. That it is only ‘fake’ as long as they take care to make it so.

But ringwork is one thing, shaped entirely by the confluence of different wrestling styles and how well two wrestlers work off each other. Promo cutting and executing the other non-wrestling aspects of a gimmick, however, comprise of an entirely different kettle of fish.

While the former revels in the creative freedom it is afforded, in a safe manner (a.k.a fake), the latter needs to be carefully navigated.

Pro wrestling will die a painful death if Superstars were allowed to cut shoot promos (unscripted promos based on reality) on their whims and wear whatever they please to work. Imagine The Undertaker limping out to the ring with the aid of his walking stick, utterly dispelling the mystique surrounding his character in the process. Or John Cena casting aside his kid-friendly gimmick and opening up about the alleged affair with a pornstar that cost him his marriage.

In an industry that reveres the fourth wall between performer and audience, even too much freedom or realism is tantamount to blasphemy.

To an undiscerning mind, however, this religious adherence to a code at the very heart of the industry, otherwise known as Kayfabe, doesn’t come across as a vital cog in the functioning of the industry… instead, it just makes wrestling fake.

Fake vs Scripted

‘If Shakespeare was alive today, he would be writing Wrestling shows’ – Chris Jericho

A legend of the industry, Chris Jericho captures the essence of what pro wrestling is in a nutshell – a generous smattering of humour, the potent touch of betrayal, an uplifting tinge of romance and the unthinking dash of valour.

Forget the myriad characterisation and the athleticism displayed by the protagonists. Brush aside the elaborate pyrotechnics and the over-the-top hyperbole while you’re at it too.

In its essence, pro wrestling is theatre.

When Mankind takes an inhuman beating at the hands of the Rock, the takeaway to be had is not wondering whether the strikes that land across his face actually hurt. It isn’t whether the blood that seeps through his grotesque mask is his own. It is, instead, to marvel at the unyielding will of one man to stand up in the face of overbearing adversity. It is, equally, to be traumatised at another’s vicious and merciless mean streak.

People who understand this will embrace the industry for its unique sensibilities. Others may forever search around it but it will always be men in tights enacting play-violence, to them.

For those of us who were lucky enough to be roped in by the machismo of the Ultimate Warrior, the sheer badassery of Stone Cold Steve Austin or the magnetism of John Cena when we were still young and eager, pro wrestling remains with us as a life-long love affair.

For those of us who endlessly nitpick at the industry’s perceived slights, however, the larger picture will always be out of sight.

Like, for instance, your friend.

Yes, the same one who had called WWE fake.

Even as he strides away, unaware of your glaring eyes strained on him, your attention is quickly jerked back onto the television screen by a high-pitched scream.

It’s Mick Foley’s wife, at ring side with her children, torn between trying to shield their eyes and holding back her own tears as their father and her husband is repeatedly ravaged with chair shots.

Unable to get him to quit – his hands tiring from the hellacious beating he’s dished out – the Rock chooses instead to batter Mankind into unconsciousness.

You shift uneasily on your chair as you watch the scene play out, and even as the dull thudding of your friend’s footsteps die down, can’t help but wonder which part of it was fake.

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Sportskeeda's take

Questions like "is wrestling real", "is WWE fake" and "is WWE real or fake" will continue to torment wrestling fans all over but the fact remains that pro-wrestling is the ultimate blend of "script" and reality, with performers displaying charisma comparable to top actors and athletic prowess comparable to any top athlete.

Therefore, calling WWE fake or wrestling fake is rather unfair, although there is no single correct answer to the question whether WWE is real or fake.

As a wrestling fan, it would be unfair to classify wrestling as fake regardless of how many people who may call WWE fake.

What is your take on this? What do you tell non-wrestling fans when they ask you: "is WWE fake?" or "is Wrestling real"? Let us know in the comments!