Dispatches from the Wrestling Underground: Redemption Song

Columns, Features

What is wrestling?

Wrestling’s critics would have you believe it’s simply violence. They would tell you it’s a bunch of cartoonish personalities yelling at each other in He-man platitudes. If you argue long enough, some might eventually give some ground and concede that it could be considered an athletic competition.

So which is it? Some, or all?

Wrestling is all of these things, yes, but more than that, wrestling is a series of stories. Wrestling, in its Western iteration, is most often a series of tales dealing in morality. Good and evil, though the lines may become blurred, is the defining story arc for every feud, match, and confrontation you’ll see. An extension of that is the struggle between the two sides in each character and how they pull at the wrestler to determine his legacy; how he falls from grace and his ultimate redemption (if at all).

At its best, wrestling is the story of man broken and man redeemed.

Going back as far as time can recall, a good portion of the stories in Western culture have dealt in the redemption of man. The most common seems to be man redeeming himself as a spiritual being, but there are also examples of personal redemption – Hercules’ twelve labors as penance for murdering his children; Robin Hood’s rise from commoner to hero of the people; or, in modern times, Anakin Skywalker’s descent into Darth Vader and his return at the hands of his son. These are all stories that deal in the concept of man rising above adversity to become something better than he was before.

Wrestling has long dealt in this concept, though, at times the stories being told have become muddled by ego and arrogance. Sting’s journey back from the darkness became confused and convoluted in the hands of WCW; instead of killing the beast that was the nWo, Sting was swallowed by it and the group limped along. Despite this, the idea that drove the story was that a single man could pull himself back from the abyss and return as something more. He could find his personal redemption.

The greatest example of this wrestling has ever produced came at Wrestlemania VII.

Randy Savage had entered the World Wrestling Federation in June of 1985, and almost immediately was thrust into a high-profile storyline involving a bidding war between the company’s top managers for his services. Despite their very storied accomplishments, Savage settled on the then unknown Miss Elizabeth. Over the next six years the relationship between Savage and Elizabeth could only be described as tumultuous. Savage, an obviously volatile personality, was extremely protective of Elizabeth to the point that he would become paranoid any time another man would even look at her. In addition to this, he was psychologically abusive to her, demanding various tasks of her, not the least of which that she hold the ropes open for him when he entered the ring.

This paranoia culminated in 1989 when, after a face turn and partnership with Hulk Hogan, Savage flew into an insane rage at a perceived slight at the hands of Hogan, claiming that Hogan had “lust in his eyes” for Elizabeth. Savage eventually lost his WWF Championship to Hogan at Wrestlemania V as a result of these accusations, and Elizabeth as a result of his jealousy.

Savage, though, was soon to rebound, replacing the demure Elizabeth for the cackling insanity that was Sensational Sherri. The change also became apparent in his personality. Whereas Elizabeth was always somewhat able to restrain Savage’s wilder tendencies, Sherri encouraged them. Soon, Savage had proclaimed himself the Macho King and Sherri his Queen.

A variety of men would fall at their hands until they ran afoul of the Ultimate Warrior. As was typical of Savage’s career, his jealousy once again got the better of him. After costing the Warrior his WWF Championship to Sgt. Slaughter after Warrior refused to grant Savage a title shot, a retirement match was set up between the two at Wrestlemania VII. Savage did everything he could to put Warrior away, unleashing five flying elbow drops in the process but his efforts were for naught, as Warrior persisted and beat Savage. What transpired next could only be described as one of the greatest tales wrestling has ever told of one man’s personal triumph over his past.

Sherri, not very receptive to the idea of Savage being retired, quickly turned on him and began unleashing her anger on the downed Savage. Miss Elizabeth, who happened to be in the audience, quickly rushed into the ring to save Savage, although, he didn’t actually see who had attacked him so when he regained his bearings he was left to find both Sherri and Elizabeth in the ring. Sherri, ever cunning, tried to pass the blame for the attack onto Elizabeth. The audience, incensed by Sherri’s actions, pleaded with Savage to not believe her.

In the end, Savage saw the light and sided with Elizabeth. In one final act to prove he had become something better, he even held the ropes for Elizabeth to exit the ring. The WWF paid this off months later when Savage proposed to Elizabeth on-screen, and the two were married at Summerslam.

While the actions of these two characters in the years that followed may have soured the audience’s perspective on them, and the reality of the performers turned tragic, the Wrestlemania moment of Savage and Elizabeth reuniting is one of the single greatest moments wrestling has produced. Savage, a man turned bitter through his own paranoia and jealousy, was able to reclaim some semblance of dignity; he was able to redeem himself and prove he was something more than a raving lunatic, bringing him closer than any of his peers in that era to resembling a real person as opposed to the cartoonish caricatures that surrounded him.

Moments like these prove that wrestling is more than just the violence and the insane He-men shouting at each other. Moments like these pull wrestling beyond a simple athletic competition into a spectacle of morality that helps to give the audience a release for their most innate fears. In the end, we all want to transcend evil; we all want to view ourselves as good people. By telling tales of redemption, wrestling is a gateway for its audience to vicariously live through men who have made themselves into something more than human.