“Land of the giants” … fairly safe to say that’s an expression we’ve all heard associated with the WWE over the years. Moreover, there is a commonly held belief that you won’t get a protracted push up the WWE ranks unless you are of a sufficiently above average height and/or build. But, statistically, this conclusion doesn’t seem to be accurate (even taking into account the WWE’s policy of adding 20 pounds and 2 inches to every wrestler’s numbers). Of the 17 WWE/World champions over the last 5 years only FOUR have been above 6ft 5”. Compare that to the SEVEN that have been under 6ft 2” and it appears as though height (or a lack of it) doesn’t preclude anyone from a world title reign.
The assumption that great height equals clumsiness doesn’t really encapsulate the different levels of mobility and ability demonstrated by the taller members of the WWE roster. Of those FOUR World champions above 6ft 5” that I referenced, THREE are more than adequately accomplished to perform the machinations of a wrestling match (JBL, Batista, Undertaker). Only Khali stands out from the last 5 years as being virtually incapable of completing a set of moves. But in modern history, Khali is not alone. The Giant Gonzalez terrorised the WWF back in 1993 with his innate lack of competency, in a very similar mould to Khali today. For those of you wanting Paul Wight to be included in this group, I think that’s a little unfair. Against mere mortals Big Show could have a reasonable match, although it took the strength and skill of Kurt Angle or Brock Lesnar to make him seem functional in a convincing way. The only other inclusion to the ‘useless club’ comes not as a result of height, but of weight. Yokozuna started his WWE career as a workable heavyweight, amazingly fast for such a big man, but by the end he was grotesquely overweight and massively out of condition. It is also worth noting that all three were/are manifested as not speaking English. True, that could just be an offshoot of the fact that none of them spoke English as a first language but it does tally with Vince’s preferred presentation of foreigners. Stereotypical blank canvasses, a silent background on which his babyfaces of choice could deliver promos unopposed and appeal to fans with as few distractions as possible. This allowance is surely making the most of a bad hand because even Vince must have realised that his product is at its best when the sides are equally talented and supported (Hart v Michaels, Austin v Rock). At least, I’d have assumed that to be the case. It is at this point that I’d like to wish HHH all the best with his upcoming Summerslam main event against Khali.
It has long been believed that the spots for the more athletic, pure performers in the WWE are the secondary titles, namely the US and Intercontinental championships. Using the same statistical logic as for the World title, this does appear to be true. Of the 25 IC/US champions over the previous 5 years only TWO have been above 6ft 5”, with ELEVEN under the 6ft 2” mark. Many times in WWE PPV history the IC title match has completely outshone the World title match (the prime example would be Summerslam 1991, Perfect v Hart on the undercard of Hogan/Warrior v Slaughter/Mustafa/Adnan) so it is bewildering why the secondary titles are still perceived as stepping stones towards the World title. You’d expect the WWE to be busting a gut to make the environments surrounding these belts appear as disparate and identifiable as possible but on so many occasions the belts fail to feature on a PPV card or only get 10 minutes airtime near the start of the show. The WWE should be showcasing its alternatives to the storyline-driven main events, not coughing loudly on the hour-mark and hoping that no one notices some basic, underplayed mat work. Only time will tell if the WWE do anything with Kingston and Benjamin as IC/US champions respectively (at time of writing) but there is some hope with this new direction. For too long these belts have been given to wrestlers just sitting under the main event, as if they are consolation prizes for people that could make it big if management stopped dragging their heels and threw some weight behind them. But with Kingston feuding with Burchill and Benjamin hopefully moving away from Matt Hardy, and possibly helping Mr Kennedy to rediscover his focus, the belts suddenly seem relevant again.
Before I move on from this section, it is noticeable that, when you subtract from the IC/US list those people who went on to become World champions or are too early in their careers to find out yet, you are left with a group of performers whose main association seems to be a lack of consistent motivation (Carlito, Umaga, Christian, Jeff Hardy, etc). Proof, if proof were needed, that nothing kills a push faster than taking your eye off the ball while Vince is watching.
As I mentioned in the first paragraph, build is as important as height when it comes to the preconception of what makes a typical WWE champion. But in this instance, the conclusion does seem relatively accurate. Of those 17 world champions I listed, ELEVEN exhibit(ed) the type of physiques comparable to those of professional bodybuilders. Admittedly, a muscular anatomy doesn’t ensure a main event level push (if it did, we’d all be celebrating another successful PPV title defence for your World champion and mine; Chris Masters) but it has been key in a few odd choices for brand-carrying wrestlers on several occasions. The disastrous ‘Lex Express’ leading up to Summerslam 1993 was as good a sign as any that muscles alone weren’t enough to convince fans that Lex Luger’s shortcomings in every department of professional wrestling could be ignored. And Sid Justice’s (Psycho Sid) ‘one-injection-away-from-exploding’ body couldn’t shake a competent Wrestlemania performance out of Hulk Hogan, especially with most of Hogan’s attention already concentrating on his, then, emerging movie career. For me, the bigger problem with muscularity (and, as a consequence, steroid abuse) doesn’t stem from the shadowy malevolence of management but from the vanity of the individual performer. This is merely an opinion, but I feel that wrestlers like Eddie Guerrero or Chris Benoit would have received their respective WWE title reigns without a physical development above and beyond what their frames could realistically carry. But the desire to offer a worthy example of what can be attained was overwhelmed by personal pride and the veneer of perfection was just a mask, intended to deflect attention away from the crumbling minds and bodies beneath. In truth, the foundation on which their championship runs were built came from Guerrero’s charm and likeability and Benoit’s workrate, not from their amplified physical appearances. Hopefully, if future generations of WWE wrestlers are to take anything from their predecessors’ failings, it is that the satisfaction of connecting with an audience does not automatically have to be accompanied with a self-destructive attitude towards one’s own health.
To the best of my knowledge, none of the previous WWE wellness policy violators have been female. But, as you’d expect, most of the issues surrounding the divas and body shaping revolve around aesthetics, as opposed to pure performance. The central problem appears to be that the WWE seems intent on sourcing potential WWE divas from a modelling background and less frequently from the developmental territories and training facilities. I have defended this practice in the past (not least because it generated the WWE its most versatile women’s champion in history; Trish Stratus) but there now seems to be some secondary considerations that could make this idea less judicious than it first appeared. It is becoming increasingly apparent that a greater number of serious injuries, especially those relating to accumulated wear and tear, are befalling the divas who began their careers as models. The aforementioned Stratus, Torrie Wilson, Ashley Massaro and Candice Michelle have or had experienced long layoffs due to serious injury. In fairness, some of these injuries are as a result of isolated accidents and cannot be attributed to a long-term erosion of health but the prolonged recovery times endured by all of these performers and, as in the case of Torrie Wilson, the eventuality of her early retirement from the sport, does suggest physiques that are not designed for the rigours of the squared circle. Conversely, Smackdown diva Victoria has wrestled for most of her WWE career with a brace supporting her right knee after tearing her ACL and refusing to undergo surgery; something that can be undoubtedly credited to a sturdy physique and a power of recovery rate reserved for athletes. The same can be said for the short periods of convalescence necessary for Beth Phoenix (fractured mandible) and Molly Holly (knee cartilage) to recover from their most serious injuries during their WWE tenures. This physical shortfall will increase the likelihood that several WWE women wrestlers might eventually turn to steroids to chemically enhance their physiques and reduce the estimated recovery time should a future layoff be required. The WWE needs to be careful that, in wanting the best of both worlds, it doesn’t alienate both sides of the looks/talent divide and bury the division in the process.
Whether it’s a myth or not, the twisted, McMahon version of the Olympic creed (taller, bigger, fatter) shows no sign of being any less relevant as the decades pass. As storylines up and down the card decrease, leaving the undercard badly underwritten, the reliance on physical quirks and marketable appearances will expand leaving it less and less likely that a talented but colourless performer will get over relying on ability alone. This should be the major concern circulating around the WWE offices right now and is something that won’t be solved by bribing audiences to watch or resorting to the sort of car-crash television that killed WCW in the late 90’s. All of the major successes experienced by WWE/WCW over the last 30 years have happened because of one of two things; storylines (Hogan, Austin, Cena) or wrestling ability (Flair, Hart, Michaels). The comparative list of giants, musclemen and fatties appears to be little more than a collection of transitional champions and gimmicky number one contenders that never quite made it to the top of the mountain. But until Vince realises that we don’t need superheroes and supervillains anymore, he won’t be giving us what we need anytime soon … the truth … presented as fiction … to remind us of real life … in all its many shapes.
Lee
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