Well, more like a year and eight months.
Let’s round up for effect. Prior to AEW’s All In: London, the last time I sat down with earnest intention to watch professional wrestling was in January of 2025. Life comes at you fast, and the wrestling just wasn’t worth the time. I had gotten a new job, moved into a home, and met my current girlfriend. I didn’t necessarily want to stop watching wrestling, but the time it took to follow the promotions I enjoyed, combined with my waning interest, made it easier than I expected. Even though I stopped watching, I remained a member of the Voices of Wrestling Discord and would occasionally scroll through the wrestling channels to see what the discourse was like. Nothing grabbed my attention. That was, until recently.
So, how did we get here?
Kurt Angle making his entrance at WrestleMania 22 in Chicago, Illinois – a photo my Dad took with a disposable camera.
My wrestling fandom began because of my Dad. He worked third shift, so he would record WCW Monday Nitro and Monday Night RAW on VHS. We would build Legos and watch wrestling together when he could find the time. That was our way of bonding. I remember being fascinated by the pyrotechnics and larger-than-life characters. According to my Dad, my favorite wrestlers included Sting, Diamond Dallas Page, Ahmed Johnson, and Vader. In my early teens, I gravitated toward WWE. My first live wrestling event was WrestleMania 22 at the Allstate Arena. I dabbled in some TNA as guys like Christian Cage and Kurt Angle made the jump. Even though WWE was the dominant promotion, it was never the only wrestling I watched.
Then came the real obsession: American independent professional wrestling. Inspired by the emergence of Bryan Danielson and CM Punk in WWE, I began seeking out as much “obscure” wrestling as I could find. From Ring of Honor to Chikara, I was fixated on finding the next big wrestling star.
I’m glad this video still exists. I probably account for 100 of those views. It caused quite the chain reaction in my life.
For whatever reason, Chuck Taylor became a favorite and I made it my mission to see him hit the Awful Waffle in person—the coolest finishing move of all time. Next thing I knew, I was sitting ringside at a Dragon Gate USA show in Chicago watching Shingo Takagi and YAMATO. Bryan Danielson jumped from the turnbuckle into the crowd right in front of me. The Dragon Gate style was the most captivating thing I had ever seen happen between the ropes. I was hooked. I look back on that card now and am blown away by some of the names I saw wrestle that night. I had no idea how lucky I was.
My ticket stub, flyer, and DVD from Dragon Gate USA’s Untouchable in 2010.
Sidebar: Am I the only one who feels like Da Soul Touchaz were a legit missed opportunity? Maybe I’m dreaming. Anyway, carry on.
My wrestling tastes were changed forever, and from that point on I couldn’t get enough. Whether it was a POWW show at a VFW hall in Fox Lake or EVOLVE in a gymnasium in Summit, I was there. I met so many great people and have a Rolodex of memories that would bore the casual wrestling fan to death. I was constantly searching for the high I felt at that DGUSA show. From my experience, those things happen when you least expect them.
Early in 2017, the wrestling world was abuzz thanks to Kenny Omega and Kazuchika Okada. Their match at Wrestle Kingdom 11 received some of the highest marks ever at that time. It was Omega’s coming-out party. He would go on to become widely regarded as one of the best wrestlers in the world for the next decade. For as much wrestling as I watched, New Japan Pro-Wrestling was uncharted territory. While I wasn’t as in love with that match as others, I decided to start following the promotion to see what all the buzz was about.
Katsuyori Shibata celebrating his New Japan Cup win in 2017.
Then it happened again: The New Beginning in Osaka 2017. In particular, an undercard match between a young high flyer named Will Ospreay and a grizzled veteran named Katsuyori Shibata. I hadn’t seen either wrestle before, and the way Shibata fought jumped off the screen at me. I had never seen wrestling that powerful. His strikes hit with such ferocity and his presence was completely different from anything I had seen before. Following his run through the New Japan Cup was like capturing lightning in a bottle. I woke up early and watched every single tournament match.
While the Shibata story had an unfortunate ending—in what is still my favorite professional wrestling match of all time, mind you—Ospreay continued to ascend. Over the next few years, I was devoted to NJPW and even started podcasting about wrestling. I would help cover all the international and independent promotions I watched to try to spread the word about the wrestling I loved. Meanwhile, Omega and Ospreay were two names that consistently dominated the conversation in my circle.
At the same time, I began to loathe WWE’s programming. It became more sterile and less authentic. The in-ring competition was dreadful and felt secondary to the rest of the circus. It felt like they were purposefully defying their fans creatively. A complete departure from what was going on in New Japan. Their attempts at monopolizing the industry only added fuel to the fire. As top wrestlers from around the world began signing NXT contracts, I felt empowered to support alternatives. I wanted those promotions to have my money so they could give their best wrestlers competitive deals and prevent them from jumping.
When rumors started circulating about a new American challenger promotion, I genuinely didn’t believe it. Watching episodes of Being The Elite during that time felt like getting in on the ground floor of something truly important. Finding out a weekly wrestling television show would air on Turner networks immediately took me back to being a kid and watching wrestling with my Dad. Seeing PAC walk out with the Open the Dream Gate Championship to confront “Hangman” Adam Page at the first press conference was a Dragon Gate fever dream.
What I was truly excited about, though? A new generation of fans seeing a different style of wrestling than what WWE was producing. I thought about myself as a kid and how important WCW was to forming my tastes. I hoped AEW would influence others in the same way. Introduce them to wrestling the way I believe it is best: an emphasis on in-ring competition with limited production. After all this time, peak New Japan’s format—relying heavily on multi-man tags and factions, with title matches as the drawing card—is my preferred blueprint.
The view from my seats at the first AEW Fight For The Fallen in Jacksonville, Florida. Headlined by CIMA vs. Kenny Omega.
Gradually, AEW would supplant NJPW as my go-to promotion. Convenience played a big role in that. I watched every single minute of AEW that I possibly could for five years. I bought every single PPV, some trading cards, action figures, and shirts, sat through countless hours of AEW Dark, and went to more than a handful of live events. Initially, AEW was a breath of fresh air for the American wrestling scene. It looked, sounded, and felt unique. Creatively, they embraced factions and placed an emphasis on tag-team wrestling while limiting the number of championships they had, making them feel more important. There was a point where it felt like AEW was gaining ground on WWE, and it gave me hope that wrestling outside of the big promotions had a shot. Unfortunately, AEW never seemed to maintain its momentum. Over time, I began losing interest.
Tony Khan’s faithfulness to CM Punk amidst all the turmoil gave me pause. Punk’s influence, along with other newcomers to the AEW creative team, seemed to be the precursor for many choices that were actively pushing me away. Strange main event storylines like the “Brochachos” soon began dominating TV. AEW stopped focusing on win/loss records, booking became scatterbrained, and the amount of programming continued to balloon. Production-wise, the ringside area became engulfed in video boards. The lights got brighter. Everything that made AEW unique visually was stripped away. It seemed like every other month a new championship was created. I could feel myself starting to “hate-watch” and it became difficult for me to justify the time it took to follow the promotion. This isn’t to say AEW was ever ‘bad’ and I’m not writing this to take shots at the promotion or the booker. It’s entirely possible I was burnt out. Either way, I simply wasn’t enjoying it as much as I once did.
Will Ospreay battles PAC at AEW All Out 2024 in Hoffman Estates.
Now, an absolute truth: time stops for no man.
The last wrestling shows I attended were AEW Collision and All Out in 2024. It was an incredible couple of nights. My seats were upgraded at Collision. All Out featured a personal dream match of mine in Will Ospreay versus PAC. Hangman Page and Swerve Strickland had a cage match that more closely resembled one of the death matches I had seen in Zona 23. I remember driving home from that show feeling reinvigorated. My love for wrestling, and for AEW, had returned. Then, life happened. Over the next four months, everything changed. My job, girlfriend, our cats, and our home required most of my time. I was happy to oblige. For better or for worse, wrestling was the casualty. I would make that choice a thousand times over.
As I typed those last few sentences, I thought about guys like Joe and Rich. Their devotion to covering wrestling is second to none—has been for years. I don’t know how they do it, but it’s a testament to how much they genuinely love professional wrestling and anyone who questions that doesn’t understand how big of a sacrifice it truly is. During my time away from wrestling, I would occasionally watch highlights/clips on TikTok and scroll through the various wrestling channels in the VOW Discord to check in.
Then, I saw something that piqued my interest:
Kenny Omega and Will Ospreay are unicorns. In my opinion, too many fans generalize what they see in the ring these days. People see something acrobatic and it immediately leads to comments like, “Omega/Ospreay-lite,” which is an insult to both of them. No one can touch Kenny Omega or Will Ospreay. Sometimes styles clash, but thankfully these guys have incredible chemistry together. Any match between the two demands attention. So, I decided to take the plunge and give AEW another shot. I would summarize the experience with a cliché: the more things change, the more they stay the same.
All in all, it was a six hour wrestling show (pre-show included) and there were definitely a few moments that moved me. AEW pay-per-views rarely leave fans wanting for an excellent bell-to-bell professional wrestling match. Omega/Ospreay delivered in spades. Omega’s performance alone felt like it was worth 4.75 stars. To me, he was channeling the best parts of prime Ric Flair and Terry Funk. Ospreay fought well from underneath and, eventually, the match culminated in his crowning achievement in his home country. I don’t do spreadsheets anymore but if I did, this was the kind of match that would be at the top.
I enjoyed Jon Moxley and Nigel McGuiness having a match that was completely different than anything else on the card. Seeing Mercedes Moné get busted open hard-way was a beautiful thing. It added a level of realism, making her match with Willow Nightengale feel like a true rivalry match. The kid in me loved seeing Sting and his son have a moment together. I’m comfortable acknowledging how nostalgia-pilled this sounds but Garrett and Steve Jr. teaming up might actually be enough to pull me back in occasionally.
Unfortunately, there were approximately five hours of wrestling around all of that. Some of it was okay, some of it was a challenge to get through. My lingering question for every wrestling promoter is this: does every big event need to be this long? Must I sacrifice these massive chunks of my day to the wrestling gods just to call myself a fan? Look, I get it. Tony Khan has TV executives and advertisers that he has to keep happy. Longer shows, more shows, means more advertising and content for them. But at what cost? Six hours later, I was burnt out again. And honestly? There wasn’t enough of what I personally enjoy in those six hours to make me want to come back.
An oldie but goodie. Unfortunately, so much of our entertainment and media has gone this way.
I think if everyone reading this was honest, they’d admit this event could’ve been trimmed down to a swift four hour experience with an hour long pre-show and a three hour main card. Promoters did it for years—it used to be the standard. I wish we could get back to that. I believe wrestling could still have a place in my life. Give me two, maybe three hours of TV a week with the monthly three hour pay-per-view and the occasional “big event” with an added pre-show. Everything else is just content designed to hold the viewer’s hand from advertisement to advertisement. Having some restraint would force bookers/promoters to only feature their most important matches and storylines on their pay-per-view offerings. The result would be more impactful special events and better weekly TV—though I’m not ignorant enough to believe we can put the toothpaste back in the tube.
From what I’ve gathered, wrestling hasn’t changed much in the last few years. WWE has continued their pursuit of monopolizing the industry while AEW has pushed in their chips to keep pace. In the spirit of competition (read: capitalism), both companies depleted the independents and international wrestling scenes. I remember when both of those scenes were booming; new styles and talents were being discovered every month. Now it reads like a wasteland – though there are always glimmers of hope. I won’t pretend to have the solution, but the current landscape simply doesn’t benefit small to medium sized promotions in any country. The outlook for them is grim.
While writing this article, a comment in the Dragon Gate thread caught my attention: “Like most of the promotions in Japan, the [promotion’s] style is not particularly distinct anymore. The performers are not particularly spectacular all around… The presentation is years behind others and the booking uninspired. None of these are notably unique to western or older fans…” When I stopped watching wrestling, this is generally how I felt about all of the wrestling I was seeing.
They say don’t meet your heroes.. I’m thankful for those opportunities and the memories that came with them.
If you’ve read this whole thing, sincerely, thank you. These are the ramblings of one random middle-aged wrestling fan. I don’t expect anyone to agree, but it felt good to share my thoughts. I’m sure there are people who think wrestling is in a good place right now. I’m sure there are people who are passionate about wrestling the way I once was and are fine with the time commitment. I simply choose to find better things to do at this stage of my life. Maybe there will come a day when I become a “full time” fan again. Until then, I’m on the outside looking in at a fandom I’ve always held close to my heart. Some will read this as me simply “growing out” of wrestling. I don’t think that’s the case. I think it’s wrestling and I growing apart. Still, there are moments where I’m reminded of why I loved it so much. Kenny Omega and Will Ospreay made me feel something I haven’t felt in a long time. It’s too bad those moments are so few and far between.
A special thank you to Rich Kraetsch for offering me the chance to do this. It was a pleasure to write and I hope it was a pleasure to read.
