THIS Is The Exact Reason Wrestling Will Never Get Big Again

Mox isn't the artless death match wrestler Omega negs him to be. He is the World Champion.

The use of symbolism and symmetry to illustrate the dramatic heft of their journeys was the sort of attentive long-term booking flex that has created a base of rabid diehards. Perhaps, in time, this approach may yet rehabilitate the perception of professional wrestling - known as the dumb, fake sh*t you are weird not to have outgrown - to something artful.

AEW has mined a new strain of emotion with the superb Hangman Page arc. This is all very far removed from mere sympathy through injury; Page, like many of us, is struggling. Much like the fake optics of social media reduce our sense of self-worth, Page, a relatable figure, does not feel elite. He is anxious. His own, worthy victories - he is a record-reigning World Tag Team Champion - feel diminished, just like our nice enough lives don't hold up to the worked Instagram glamour of your old peers. Hangman Page is mapping a tale of mental health. It's a level of vulnerability pro wrestling has never embraced because it's so antithetical to the old archetypes.

Something as complex as this, again, might elevate the industry beyond its old, goodies against baddies childlike stigma.

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