Michael Sidgwick's 10 Favourite Wrestling Matches

In which I admit that I might be a wrestling hipster.

cm punk daniel bryan
WWE.com

I first became enamoured with professional wrestling when strolling through Woolworths as a kid, in which the gloriously OTT sleeve designs of the old WrestleMania VHS tapes seemed to glow from the aisles.

With lightning striking over quasi-mystical purple backgrounds serving as the backdrop for impossibly colourful heroes, those images were hypnotic. So, too, were the performances of Marty Jannetty. A sympathy magnet, he played what I later understood as the Ricky Morton role to expert effect. He looked so pained out there that, when he recovered, it was the ultimate catharsis for a young man who had been worked into a state of empathetic frenzy. It became the foundation of my fandom.

When the little pr*ck from down the street first broke my heart, in telling me that the action was fake, I didn't believe it. By then, Bret Hart was my favourite wrestler - and there was no way he was fake. Everything he did looked so credible. When I grew older, the ruse became self-evident. But I didn't care. I could see Bret stamping his feet to literally amplify the intensity of his onslaught, but I was so hooked that I admired the art more so than I felt betrayed by the artifice.

I watch wrestling to suspend my disbelief - that for those twenty to thirty minutes or so, I'm watching something that evokes the legitimate thrill of sport, sans the pitfall of a bore draw.

If you can sell it adequately enough, I'll buy it...

10. Bret Hart Vs. Owen Hart - WrestleMania X

cm punk daniel bryan
WWE.com

If Marty Jannetty was my favourite wrestler, Hulk Hogan was a close second.

Seemingly invincible, Hogan was the perfect hero for young children because, with his formulaic matches, he made sense of a confusing and testing world. You could rely on Hogan. He never let you down. When I tired of the formula, Bret Hart, with his incredibly realistic, layered and bespoke performances, was there to ensure that I didn't grow out of wrestling altogether.

The first WWF Bret Vs. Owen match wrote itself; with an inherent and relatable tension, the tale of familial separation was unlike anything the WWF had ever presented. I didn't have a younger brother, so I couldn't directly sympathise - but Owen's performance was so pitch perfect that it made me glad I didn't.

It was a masterclass of pacing. Bret, as the elder brother, was understandably reluctant to wrestle anything beyond a technical exhibition opposite the younger brother he still loved. And, at first, that's what it was - until Owen, with a series of transgressions, cajoled the intensity out of him.

If, as an adult, I appreciate the peerless mode and structure of storytelling, as a kid, the outcome of this match - Owen's win - was an emotional gut-punch. In many - if not all - ways, it is the distillation of the wrestling art.

Contributor
Contributor

Michael Sidgwick is an editor, writer and podcaster for WhatCulture Wrestling. With over seven years of experience in wrestling analysis, Michael was published in the influential institution that was Power Slam magazine, and specialises in providing insights into All Elite Wrestling - so much so that he wrote a book about the subject. You can order Becoming All Elite: The Rise Of AEW on Amazon. Possessing a deep knowledge also of WWE, WCW, ECW and New Japan Pro Wrestling, Michael’s work has been publicly praised by former AEW World Champions Kenny Omega and MJF, and surefire Undisputed WWE Universal Champion Cody Rhodes. When he isn’t putting your finger on why things are the way they are in the endlessly fascinating world of professional wrestling, Michael wraps his own around a hand grinder to explore the world of specialty coffee. Follow Michael on X (formerly known as Twitter) @MSidgwick for more!