Why I Still Love Pro Wrestling

I am 43 years old and still love pro wrestling; and I always will!

NXT LIVE - Nashville -Thea Hail & Falon Henley

Nobody in my inner circle seems to get it.

Why do I still love pro wrestling?

Your beloved Show Pony holds a bachelor’s degree from Middle Tennessee State University, a master’s degree from the University of Alabama, and is preparing to embark on a multiyear adventure pursuing a Ph.D. Needless to say, I don’t exactly fit the stereotypical demographic for a lifelong wrestling fan.

And yet, here I am.

I’ve wondered aloud for years what keeps pulling me back to this world — a world built on jaw-dropping athleticism where the outcomes are predetermined, championships are handed to those who draw the most money, and success isn’t about being “the best,” but being the most over with the crowd.

So why does it still work on me?

Part of it is nostalgia. I came of age during the neon-soaked era of Hulk Hogan and the Ultimate Warrior, when muscles were bigger than logic and good versus evil was as simple as red, yellow, and face paint. Then came the Attitude Era — raw, chaotic, rebellious, and perfectly timed for a teenager who wanted sports with an edge. Now, decades later, I’ve fallen in love all over again with today’s product: sharper, more diverse, more athletic, and more intentional in its storytelling than ever before.

Here’s the thing: I love competitive sports. I cover college football for a living. One team wins, one team loses. The stakes are real. The emotion is real. It’s the ultimate reality television — the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. The Kardashians can’t touch that.

So why do I keep coming back to something where the ending is scripted?

The answer hit me one day: it’s the same reason I love Broadway.

If you’ve listened to my show for more than five minutes, you already know this about me. I am unapologetically obsessed with Broadway. So obsessed, in fact, that last fall I flew from Nashville to New York City at 6 a.m., watched the matinee of Sunset Boulevard starring Nicole Scherzinger, then turned right back around and flew home that night. I went to New York for one day — just to see the show. I had watched the trailers, read the reviews, and reached a level of theatrical desperation that required immediate action.

That’s not rational behavior. That’s passion.

And that’s pro wrestling.

At its core, pro wrestling is performance art. It’s storytelling. It’s emotion. It’s character, timing, pacing, and payoff. Yes, the athleticism is staggering, but what keeps me invested is the same thing that keeps me glued to a Broadway stage: I want to be told a compelling story.

I started watching as a kid, and to this day, every single time WWE comes through Nashville, I go. This past Friday, I went alone — by choice. I didn’t want company. I didn’t want commentary. I wanted to sit there in my own little bubble, soaking it in, privately enjoying some of the finest performance art money can buy.

NXT star Ricky Saints

The show was NXT Live, held in a small, intimate venue. NXT is WWE’s developmental system, meaning many of the performers I saw Friday night will one day headline WrestleMania. This was a chance to see the future up close — wrestlers honing their craft, learning how to work a crowd, and figuring out who they are in real time.

I was mesmerized.

Izzi Dame may very well be the future of the WWE women’s division — an outstanding heel with unique in-ring ability and undeniable presence. Charlotte Flair vibes are written all over her. The same goes for performers like Ricky Saints, Tatum Paxley, and Lexis King. You could feel it in the room — that buzz when you know you’re watching someone before the rest of the world catches up.

NXT North American Champion Izzi Dame

For years now, pro wrestling has scratched a very specific itch in my brain. It entertains me. It comforts me. It challenges me. And it reminds me that not everything we love has to be “real” to be meaningful.

I love pro wrestling.

And I always will.