Wrestling’s Pounce Problem: How Wrestling Misses The Boat On Cool

Professional wrestling is a lot of things, but “cool” is rarely one of them. I’m not talking about guilty pleasure cool. Or ironically cool. Or niche cool. Wrestling’s sustained popularity for more than a century is buttressed by those kitschy appeals. I’m talking about actually COOL – like where something that happens in the perpetually cringe-worthy world of professional wrestling somehow elbows its way into the zeitgeist and becomes legitimately “Fonzie”- level cool. President Obama on “Between Two Ferns” cool. DJ Khaled on Snapchat cool. Yeezy Boost cool! In wrestling parlance, I’m talking about Daniel Bryan, “YES Movement” – level cool. 80’s Ric Flair promos cool. Randy Savage cool. The kind of cool that legit crosses over into the mainstream. Where everyone from elementary school kids to their parents and every SportsCenter anchor and Superbowl champion in between not only gets the reference but doesn’t feel like a social outcast (No disrespect to the #SocialOutcasts) when they make it in public.

Moments of crystalized, organic coolness in wrestling like Austin 3:16 or the rise of the NWO are certainly rare… but contrary to popular belief, they do happen with some regularity. The problem is, more often than not, wrestling’s puppet masters fail to recognize these invaluable moments of possible pop culture relevancy until it’s far too late. So late in fact that when the decision is finally made from on-high to acknowledge the lightning strike, unfortunately there’s little left to grab on to because the tree is burnt to a crisp and reduced to a smoldering stump before anybody ever notices the level of electricity that was just created in the moment. I’m looking at you Fandango’s entrance dance.

It’s what I call wrestling’s “pounce” problem. (Apologies to Monty Brown) Wrestling’s failure to recognize, facilitate, and ultimately capitalize upon the fleeting potential of organically produced, cool moments inside and outside of the ring. Some examples of wrestling’s failure to pounce:

Zack Ryder
The patron saint of missed opportunity. In 2011 he was warming the WWE bench so hard he made Kurt Rambis look like Steph Curry. But just like any of his his fellow Long Island broski’s in the club, he was relentless about getting noticed by any means necessary. So he took it upon himself to roll up his sleeves (Eventhough everybody knows no one on Long Island owns a shirt with any sleeves) buck the system, and launch his own YouTube show called, “Z! Long Island True Story” with no help or approval from his employers.

From there he crowned himself Internet Champion, complete with championship title belt – an idea that if adopted full stop by WWE would’ve revolutionized the stale championship title system wrestling still employs today. Think about the possibilities of WWE recognizing an Internet champion in the age of the WWE Network with online-exclusive title defenses and angles, global Internet famous challengers coming out of the woodwork to challenge the champ, fan interactive match booking… It could’ve been like an updated version of the Hardcore Title, where pinfalls could take place at anytime, anywhere… but in this case soley online – as long there was video proof that the fall took place… and in the “caught on tape”, iPhone era of “Gotcha journalism”… the WWE Network could’ve become wrestling’s TMZ.

The RKO Outta No Where
Let’s keep the Internet-famous theme going here and look at the phenomenon of the RKO Outta No Where. Born from Randy Orton’s finishing move – a “cutter” style neck breaker called the RKO that the Viper can seemingly hit at any moment no matter his location or that of his opponent (hello Evan Bourne).

Like the Stunner, Super Kick, or Ronnie Garvin’s “Hands of Stone” knockout punch it already had all the markings of a transcendent finishing maneuver (due in large part to the hair-trigger spontaneity and unpredictability with which it is carried out). And it was that “viper strike” quality that vaulted the RKO to go viral sometime around 2013 when it started showing up everywhere online, inserted into any and every piece of video of someone stumbling, tripping, fainting, falling, crashing or collapsing. It became the preferred garnish for every fail video in existence – from Parkour faceplants and zoo animals tipping over to Mike Tyson falling off his hover board.

Nothing online was safe from an RKO Outta No Where. Pepper in some Jim Ross or Jerry Lawler audio, rinse and repeat on an endless loop thanks to the Vine and GIF generation, and WWE had the first icon of the Meme Culture right there in its lap – the precursor to “Crying’ Michael Jordan Face”! That’s how viral the RKO Outta No Where got at its height. And there’s no telling how even more ubiquitous it would’ve become had WWE pounced on the trend immediately and used it to help catapult the physically gifted but dull, uncharismatic, monotonous Randy Orton to Cena levels of mainstream appeal. Done right and timely, Orton, buoyed by the virility of his finishing maneuver could have “shoot” became the face of the WWE, not just in storyline.

Bad News Barrett
Topical, I know, right? With news that Wade Barrett has recently given his notice and will apparently wrap his WWE career this summer, I’m reminded of the split-second moment in time when his brief “Bad News” Barrett repackaging ALMOST got over. BIG. Right around the time that his “Bad News” podium – from which he would deliver his opponent shaming sermons on the mount – grew to bean stalk heights and his pre-match rants – foretelling the misfortune of his rivals – became more and more entertaining instead of heat seeking. That’s when a brief window of opportunity and popularity opened for Barrett.

But seemingly because the plan in place was for “Bad News Barrett” to be a bad guy, WWE was either unable or unwilling to course correct in time to recognize just how GOOD the gimmick could have been. Barrett’s refrain of “I’m afraid I’ve got some BAD NEWS” – soaked in his distinct English brogue – tweaked to become the rebel yell of an anti-authority, Austin-esque, ass-kicking babyface with zero f*cks to give about who he pisses off with his brand of “bad news” – could’ve become a modern day “and that’s the bottom line because Stone Cold Said So.” – OK, maybe more like Val Venis’s “Heeeeelllloooo Ladies” but iconic nonetheless. Either way the potential was there, in the moment, to color Wade Barrett cool. Instead it was just another ephemeral layer of creative funk that unfortunately stunk up his career.

Now look I’m sure perfectly rational reasons exist for why wrestling was slow to pounce in each of the above examples of missed opportunity… but the bottom line remains the same. Like Horace (not Hogan) said: “Carpe Diem.” Seize the day. It’s not only true in life, but also in wrestling. Do you have examples of wrestling missing the boat on something “cool”? Let me know @angegold on Twitter.



Post your thoughts, opinions, feedback and comments below.

About Andrew Goldstein: Andrew is a former WWE creative writer who is now a morning TV producer and comedy writer.