Wrestling is a spectacle for the senses. Although it's primarily a visual art, one designed to engross you, dazzle you, and entertain you in equal measure -- depending on the company, of course -- sound also plays a huge part in making wrestling what it is.
Imagine the Big Boss Man's aggressive headlock without the sound of his boots stomping the mat. Imagine the sight of Marty Scurll pulling someone's fingers apart without that shudder-inducing snap. Imagine a superplex off the top rope without the crash of two bodies hitting the canvas.
When Katsuyori Shibata and Kazuchika Okada smashed their heads together in their now-infamous bout, it wasn't the visual of two skulls colliding that made the audience wince. It was the crack of skull-on-skull.
This isn't about words. It's not about catchphrases, slogans, or scripted dialogue. It's not about color commentary or play-by-play. It's not about the spoken word at all.
It's all about noise. The particular sounds that bring separate wrestling from any other performing art, the sounds that breathe new life into your suspension of disbelief, the sounds that immerse fans in the narrative between the ropes.
Without these sounds, most of us wouldn't be fans at all.