Apologies in advance because parts of this will feel like a big Lawler troll but I think it addresses the bigger question.
I think there has to be something in common with wrestling you like that others don't and wrestling that others like that you don't. There has to be some objective universal truth here that ties those things together. That's not to say that style preferences and personal tastes aren't factors in these discussions, but to me, you get into that after you find a common baseline. I don't know what that common baseline is, and I'm not even sure that if we all found a way to agree on what it is that we would be right. But it has to exist. So for my purposes, I'm going to try not to focus just on what I enjoy in my wrestling, but more what I think good wrestling is. I don't believe that there aren't common elements in all wrestling that receives praise from anyone. I also believe it's possible to not like good wrestling, just like it's possible to enjoy bad wrestling.
And that brings up an interesting point to start. I would disagree with anyone who said that the only wrestling that has redeeming value is good wrestling. I think Hulk Hogan versus Andre the Giant at Wrestlemania III is a horrible wrestling match, and while I have no qualms about throwing my criticisms of that match at the posters of this board, I'm not going to tell 78,000-93,173 (depending on which wrestling god you pray to) fans that were in attendance that they didn't enjoy what they saw or that they were wrong to like it. They clearly did. I don't think it's a good wrestling match. I'm not alone in thinking that. But there were elements there that were good -- it felt important, we knew who the performers were and what they were about, the big spots the fans wanted were delivered, the finish was right and the visuals of the staredown, the bodyslam and Hogan crossing his heart after getting the win are iconic wrestling visuals. Contrast that with something like Jushin Liger & Brian Pillman versus Nikita Koloff & Ricky Steamboat the Great American Bash in 1992. I think it is a very good wrestling match, and while I have no qualms about posting my praise of that match at this board, I'm not going to tell all the people in the live audience that didn't get into it that they liked what they saw. They clearly didn't. I think it was a good wrestling match. I'm not alone in thinking that. But there were elements there that were bad -- it didn't feel important, it wasn't clear what we were supposed to think of either team, anticipated spots were not delivered in the way expected, I'm not sure the finish was right and there isn't a single visual from that match burned into my head.
Still, when I ranked my top 100 matches of 1992, the Bash match made the scoreboard. When I get around to doing the same for 1987, I can guarantee you that Hogan vs Andre won't. And some may say that if that's how I watch wrestling, I'm not doing it right. And they might be correct. I know the Bash undercard tag works for me and the Wrestlemania main event does not. But in the end, both have elements of what I perceive as good wrestling and both have elements of what I perceive as bad wrestling. Neither is without value.
So that out of the way, here is what I see as good wrestling.
Something is at stake other than pride. We've talked about the booking infrastructure that surrounds wrestling matches before. Good wrestling leaves no fat on the bone; everything in that universe has a purpose. Ted DiBiase kicking a basketball away from a kid may be an entertaining skit, but it isn't devised solely to be an entertaining skit. Maybe Vince Russo or Kevin Dunn don't see any purpose to it beyond that, but they don't see the big picture if so. Wrestling devised solely for jollies is bad wrestling. The idea is that you see Ted DiBiase, you think he's an asshole, and if the WWF is in your town, you might plunk down a few dollars to see someone kick his ass. Maybe you're even more inclined to show up if the guy he's facing happens to be your favorite wrestler. You cheer loudly when someone punches him in the face and you boo him out of the building when momentum swings in his direction. Perhaps you'll go to the show and get exactly what you want, or perhaps the time isn't right, and DiBiase will leave the building with the upper hand. Eventually, he will get his comeuppance but the time hasn't arrived for this to happen yet. Good wrestling knows the difference.
Of course some of the feeling that the outcome matters is a product of booking. Throw a championship in the mix, particularly one where wrestlers have fought some hard battles over many years -- even decades -- and the stakes seem a little higher. Throw some collateral in the mix, like maybe a wrestler's hair or career or valet, and winning or losing has tangible benefits or consequences. Sometimes, none of those factors is present at all and it's entirely up to the wrestlers in the ring to generate that feeling that something is at stake, and they are starting completely from scratch. No championships have been purchased No dead corpses have been raped. No sneak attacks have taken place. In fact, it's even possible that no harsh words have been exchanged. But in the end, while it's interesting to discuss how they got there, all that matters is that they did.
Yoshiko Tamura and Toshie Uematsu, two wrestlers I had never even seen in a match before, convinced me in their GAEA match on July 19, 1997 that the WCW Women's Cruiserweight Title was the most prestigious title in wrestling, and that to lose the match would be a huge detriment to their careers. It was of paramount importance to each of them that they win that fucking match, no matter what it took! The match takes a physical toll and limbs stop working as they should, and they start turning on their own bodies and screaming at their legs to stop not working. Pretty intense stuff. They produced what I think is one of the best matches of all time because of that approach, and life isn't fair -- they had to work overtime to draw me in because I was watching "cold". But they did it by the end of the match.
That doesn't make a well-hyped world title match between hated opponents that headlines Wrestlemania and delivers in the ring any less great. It just makes the GAEA match a little more impressive. Maybe they both got to the same end point, but in one case, the promotional force of the company helped them out, while in another case, the wrestlers had to get there on their own. Either way, they both got there, and both deserve praise. So who wins and who loses has to matter. Maybe I'm the type of viewer that just wants good matches and it doesn't matter to me so much. But it sure as hell needs to matter to the wrestlers in the ring, and in the same way Tamura and Uematsu had to work cold with me, good wrestlers may have to overcome careless announcers and bad booking to help us remember what really matters when a well-meaning but sometimes misguided promotional machine is backing the match. We need to believe that the wrestlers will either benefit or suffer consequences based on the match result. And if the booking isn't making that blatantly obvious, then the match in the ring has to find that hook and exploit it.
It resembles an athletic competition. I think this is one that can be taken to extremes in either directions. "Wrestling is a story" sometimes downplays the athletic component of wrestling to a point that it's laughable and "Wrestling is about action" downplays heat, emotion, logic and psychology to its detriment as well. In reality, both aspects are important and if done right, can make a match better. I don't think good wrestling needs to be athletically impressive as much as it needs to be athletically viable. It should feel like a sport, and maybe one at times with some dynamic personalities where rules are exploited and broken, people run their mouths and wear silly outfits and personal grudges are settled through the medium. What I mean by that is not that I need to see 100% Pure Sports Build or innovative offense, but rather that I need to see wrestlers grab and work holds. I need to see them execute moves. I can see wrestlers do low-range stuff almost entirely and enjoy it, or I can see wrestlers do high-end stuff almost entirely and hate it. I need wrestlers to keep things moving. Sure I can watch wrestlers work a headlock for 10 minutes -- if they are actually working it, attempting counters and stuff. If they are just sitting on the mat, clock me out.
Wrestling also shouldn't feel like barfighting, even in a match billed as a street fight. The reason? Because barfights don't happen in wrestling rings, and you don't end a barfight by getting a pinfall. It's still wrestling, no matter the gimmick attached to the match or the presentation of it. It should feel like something that requires training that not just anyone off the street can do. The best brawls have wrestlers instinctively reverting back to their wrestling repertoire when all else fails. I don't need everyone to be Volk Han or El Dandy, but even working a headlock is appreciated. Remind me that you're an athlete. Remind me that you've been trained. Remind me that you're not just some schmuck in the audience who thinks he's a tough guy. Show me that you have some skill.
It features both hard work and smart work. Jerry Lawler grabbing the house mic and cutting promos to avoid locking up is smart work in terms of getting the crowd hot, but it's also cheap heat, it's lazy and it's boring to watch. Davey Richards doing that ridiculous gif suplex thing is athletically difficult and requires a great deal of effort, but is also a stupid spot. I'm not interested in the Todd Morton gym matches of total cheap heat and stalling at this stage of my fandom, nor am I interested in total Dragon Gate spotfests at this stage of my fandom. Both go to opposite extremes. Give me something that tries to do both.
I have a lot (a whole lot!) more to say, but I am exhausted and will return to this later.