If It Looks Like a Trash Can, It's A Freaking Trash Can

Here’s the thing that’s been so weird for me so far with wrestling - the line between fact and fiction is really, really blurred. It’s so blurred, that wrestling has its own term for events/stories/personas that are fake but portrayed as real. This is known as kayfabe. Kayfabe in general (and the whole crazy wrestling world lexicon) will certainly be discussed more on this blog, but I’m currently focused on one specific aspect of it.

Injuries.

There are two important things to remember about professional wrestling:

1. It’s a dramatic story.
2. It involves very real and very intense feats of athleticism. 

Wrestling absolutely qualifies as a sport according to both the Google definition (an activity involving physical exertion and skill in which an individual or team competes against another or others for entertainment) and my personal definition as determined during college (an activity wherein it is possible for your nipples to bleed). Like any sport, injuries are possible. Unlike other sports, injuries are frequently faked.

I’m going to pull back for a minute and remind my charming audience that I am new to professional wrestling and still have very limited exposure, so forgive me (and let me know) if I say something that seems completely off the wall. But in my short time it seems to me that wrestling, at least when viewed by the general public, has the-boy-who-cried-wolf syndrome. ALL injuries are thought to be fake because they so often ARE fake. 

Yes, that's a real trash can that was crushed by sudden head impact.

Whether or not the injury is real or fake probably doesn’t matter to you personally when it’s some rando on the screen. This got super real though to me and family/friends as soon as Rob got in the ring. His first match ended with an injury, which meant I was getting flooded with texts asking “is he okay?” “was that real?” “is he actually hurt?” etc.

Rob loves the idea of kayfabe. He wants to preserve the story. So that jerk let us all stew for QUITE AWHILE in our worried state.

Initially, I figured he was fine. This was mainly because even before Rob started wrestling training, he started practicing fake injuries at home. I had been preconditioned by MONTHS of him writhing in agony but actually being totally fine. Then, he wouldn’t respond, and as more and more people reiterated to me just how bad it looked when he took the final hit, I started to doubt myself.

Luckily in this particular case, he was in fact fine. Unluckily, it now seems like many of these other observers have adopted the “oh it’s fake” mindframe in regards to injuries.

Meanwhile the more he wrestles the more maddening becomes the knowledge that although they are exaggerating/faking a lot of injuries every match, at the same exact time the wrestlers are downplaying/hiding all the real pain they’re dealing with. Because it’s an intense sport you have all the typical bad/sore knee/ankle/shoulder whatnot going on. Because it’s wrestling, you also have them hitting each other with REAL trash cans/kendo sticks/chairs on a fairly regular basis.

I’ve watched like all of 4-5 live matches so far and there has been to my knowledge at least 2 real injuries already. Probably more. While wrestlers are quick to play up kayfabe they’re a freaking tight-lipped group on everything else.

I think what this all boils down to is that if you come up to me and try in any way to downplay the very real toll wrestling is taking on my boyfriend’s body, I will be forced to hit you with one of those “fake” chairs they use and see how your butt deals with it.

I am bad at pictures and lighting, but there are at least 4 bruised areas here.

 

The Most Important Difference Between Hockey and Wrestling

While there has certainly been a number of changes in our day to day since Rob started wrestling school, the first and most obvious difference was laundry.

I don’t know if you know this, but wrestlers get all up close and personal with each other. Apparently smelling fresh and clean is a really big deal. I mean this makes sense, but prior to Rob wrestling my only other significant experience with someone’s athletic interests was my brother & hockey. According to my brother and his friends, never washing your gear and smelling utterly disgusting is a crucial part of the sport. I’ve been in the front seat of their car with the gear way back in the trunk, and still, regretfully, would catch whiffs of sweaty men.

So while it’s good that this is not the same attitude for wrestlers, the washing needs of wrestling gear that should smell sparkling fresh despite ~3 hours of hard sweating is more intense than what we were previously doing. The pads in particular weren’t quite cutting it with the normal laundry process. Rob did some googling, and we now wash workout clothes separate with vinegar. Yes, vinegar. Vinegar saves lives, people (or at least noses).

The tools of the wrestling-laundry trade

Before wrestling school started, I was working out almost every day of the week and Rob was working out every weekday, so we already had a decent amount of workout-based laundry. When wrestling school started, it added workouts (and the need for more fresh clothes) every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night. It also spurred on my motivation to keep up with my ever-more-fit boyfriend and kept me consistent with now-daily workouts. As you can imagine, our workout laundry bin was soon overflowing.

It also meant being cognizant of when it was wrestling school night to make sure there were clean clothes available. I was not particularly diligent about workout clothes laundry prior to this because I am… lazy? Efficient? A shopaholic? I’m not sure what word best describes the state of my wardrobe, by which I mean to say that I overbuy clothes. I’ve recently cut down on extra clothing, and I think I still have at least 15 sports bras. Actually I changed my mind, lazy probably is the best word for this scenario. If the impossible DID happen and I ran out of clean workout clothes that was a completely viable reason for me to skip a workout.

I would be mortified though if ring o’clock rolled around and we suddenly remembered there wasn’t any fresh gear.

It’s not that trying to plan around clean laundry is a big deal, but it was a change in mindset, and for me, it marked the first big mental shift where I started to prioritize wrestling.

I suppose it would have been less work if Rob had suddenly developed an interest in hockey, but every time I think about car rides with my brother I SUPER appreciate that wrestlers seem to be the more cleanly athletes of the two groups.

It Starts Somewhere

Scarcely a year ago, I only knew 3 things about wrestling.

1. It existed.
2. It was somehow distinct from other fight-y things because it was “fake.”
3. The Rock, Hulk Hogan, and some guy from Predator were all former wrestlers turned actors according to my family & friends.

It’s hard to say what’s more astonishing to me a year later - that my boyfriend is training to be a wrestler and I KNOW STUFF about it, or that when I talk to people about my boyfriend training to be a wrestler, more often than not they respond with something along the lines of “I used to watch wrestling when I was a kid!”

Where was I as a child? How did I miss out on this phenomenon? Why did these people stop watching when they got older?

All questions I ponder, but can’t answer.

But there is a question these people keep asking me in return - “what’s that like, having your boyfriend doing wrestling all of a sudden?”

Ah friends, now that I CAN answer, but it will take some time. So stay tuned if you’re interested in the tale of a wrestler’s road to the ring, as told from those ringside. It starts with… laundry.