The Pro Wrestling AI Panic Makes No Sense

 

Last week, I shared a link to my book A.I. for Pro Wrestlers in a Facebook wrestling group.

Within minutes, the reaction wasn’t curiosity—it was hostility.

“AI is lazy.”
“Pay a real trainer.”
“This is garbage.”
“AI should be rejected in all forms.”

None of the loudest critics had read the book. Some openly admitted they hadn’t. They just reacted to the word AI and decided it was a threat.

That reaction isn’t just emotional—it’s contradictory.

Let’s Clear One Thing Up First

A.I. for Pro Wrestlers does not replace training.
It does not replace ring time.
It does not replace coaches, feedback, or experience.

The book says that explicitly:

“This book does not replace training, ring time, or experience.
It replaces guesswork.”

Yet the pushback continues.

So let’s talk about why.

---

Wrestling Has “Evolved”… Except When It’s Inconvenient

One of the most common defenses I hear is:

“I prefer doing things old school.”

That argument falls apart instantly under scrutiny.

If wrestlers truly preferred the “old school” way of doing things:

• Matches would emphasize psychology over constant high spots

• Fewer dives, fewer superkicks, fewer choreographed sequences

• Attire would be trunks, tights, and wrestling boots—not jeans, joggers, sneakers, and kick pads

• Selling would matter again

But when those things are brought up, the response is always:

“Wrestling has evolved.”

Fair enough.

But if wrestling style can evolve…
If attire can evolve…
If presentation can evolve…

Then why is promotion and business knowledge frozen in time?

You don’t get to argue evolution only when it benefits your comfort zone.

---

The AI Poster Hypocrisy

Recently, a young wrestler—18 years old—posted:

“Now I see promotions doing AI posters, dear god!!!! 😂”

The irony is staggering.

Many of the same people mocking AI posters:

• Use Canva templates

• Use Photoshop presets

• Use auto-captioning

• Use Instagram algorithms

• Use Facebook boosted posts

• Use YouTube thumbnails optimized by machine learning

All of that is AI-assisted technology.

They just don’t like the label.

If you’re using Canva, you’re using AI.
If you’re relying on social media reach, you’re using AI.
If you’re optimizing content for platforms, you’re using AI.

The outrage isn’t about ethics.
It’s about unfamiliarity.

---

“AI Took My Job” Isn’t the Same Argument

I’ve seen comments from graphic designers and creatives saying they lost work because of AI.

That frustration is valid.

But blaming wrestlers, promoters, or small promotions for using tools they can afford isn’t the solution. Independent wrestling has never been flush with cash. Most promoters are barely breaking even. Expecting them to hire high-end designers for every flyer is unrealistic.

AI doesn’t eliminate creativity.
It lowers the barrier to entry.

The real divide isn’t AI vs. artists.
It’s adaptation vs. refusal.

---

If “Old School” Really Meant Old School

If people truly preferred doing things the old school way, the modern independent wrestling scene would look very different.

You would see larger-than-life professional wrestlers—men who looked like attractions, not interchangeable gym students.

You would see fewer 90-pound kids flipping and flopping endlessly with no selling, no pacing, and no sense of consequence.

You would see matches built around:

• Presence

• Psychology

• Crowd control

• Timing

• Character

Not nonstop movement for movement’s sake.

Old school wrestling was never about how many moves you could do.
It was about who you were, why the match mattered, and how you made the crowd feel.

Yet when this point is raised, the response is always the same:

“Wrestling has evolved.”

And that’s fine—it has.

But you don’t get to selectively apply evolution.

You can’t accept evolution in wrestling style, size, presentation, and gear—then suddenly reject evolution in promotion, organization, and business tools.

That’s not tradition.

That’s inconsistency.


What AI Actually Does for Wrestlers

Used correctly, AI helps wrestlers:

• Think more clearly about their character

• Structure promos with confidence

• Plan matches with better psychology

• Study opponents respectfully

• Organize bookings, travel, and finances

• Grow their audience without losing authenticity

It doesn’t make you a wrestler.
It makes you less disorganized.

That’s it.

---

What AI Actually Does for Pro Wrestling Promoters

Used correctly, AI helps promoters:

• Clarify their brand, identity, and long-term vision

• Write clearer, more professional promotional copy and press releases

• Plan cards with stronger pacing, balance, and crowd flow

• Organize talent communication, bookings, and follow-ups efficiently

• Create consistent marketing materials without blowing the budget

• Analyze ticket sales, audience feedback, and market trends

• Reduce burnout by cutting down administrative chaos

• Present a more credible, organized operation to talent and venues

It doesn’t make you a promoter.
It makes you less scattered.

_______________________________________________________________________

That’s it.The Business Hasn’t Gotten Easier

Pro wrestling is harder than it’s ever been.
More talent.
More competition.
More noise.
Less money.

Refusing tools that reduce friction doesn’t make you noble.
It makes you harder to book, harder to market, and harder to sustain.

You don’t have to like AI.
But pretending it isn’t already here—already being used by major companies, promotions, and platforms—isn’t realism. It’s denial.

The business hasn’t gotten easier.

But you can get smarter.

Wrestling Fans, We Need to Talk: Keep Your Hands Off What Isn’t Yours

 

Two blogs from me in one day is rare! But this is becoming a growing problem and it needs to be addressed and addressed now!

Wrestling Fans, keep Your Hands Off What Isn’t Yours

There’s a troubling trend starting to show up at wrestling shows lately, and it needs to be addressed—directly, honestly, and without sugarcoating.

Fans taking things that do not belong to them.

This isn’t a one-off incident. It’s becoming a pattern.

A few weeks ago, WWE Hall of Famer Jimmy Hart—The Mouth of the South—had his iconic megaphone stolen at a show. Yes, it was eventually returned, but the fact that it happened at all is unbelievable.

Not long after that, at a show in Hazard, Kentucky, wrestler KC Cazana lost his hat band near ringside. Security and I searched the entire area around the ring. Nothing. Eventually, a fan—apparently feeling guilty—came forward and handed it over.

And just this past weekend, Ben Bishop, working in the Hudson Valley area, had his entrance vest stolen.

Let’s be crystal clear here.

If It Doesn’t Belong to You, Leave It Alone.

This isn’t complicated. Wrestling fans have understood this rule for decades—until recently.

If a wrestler throws something into the crowd—a T-shirt, a bandana, a towel, whatever—and you catch it, congratulations. That’s yours. Fair game.

But if a wrestler sets something down at ringside, drops it near the ring, or leaves it with their gear, that is not a souvenir. That’s their property. Their livelihood. In some cases, their identity.

Entrance gear isn’t cheap. Custom pieces cost real money. Some items carry sentimental value or are irreplaceable. Taking them isn’t “fun,” it isn’t “a joke,” and it isn’t “part of the show.”

It’s theft.

This Is How You Ruin Wrestling Shows

Here’s the part fans need to think about long-term.

Promoters already operate on thin margins. Wrestlers already put their bodies on the line for your entertainment. When fans start stealing gear, it creates problems that ripple outward:

• Wrestlers become hesitant about interacting near ringside

• Security has to become more aggressive

• Promoters have to tighten crowd access

• Family-friendly atmospheres start disappearing

And yes—this is where the sarcasm turns into a real question:

Are promoters going to have to start frisking fans before they leave the venue?

That sounds insane—but so does stealing a wrestler’s entrance vest.

Respect the Business or Don’t Come Back

Professional wrestling works because of mutual respect:

• Wrestlers respect the fans enough to give everything they have

• Promoters respect the audience by putting on quality shows

• Fans are expected to respect the performers and the space

When that balance breaks, everyone loses.

So let’s bring back a rule that used to be common sense:

Look. Cheer. Boo. Enjoy the show.
But keep your hands off anything that isn’t intentionally given to you.

Wrestling is built on tradition. Respect is one of them.

Gratitude Is a Currency in Wrestling — And Too Many Are Broke

By Joe Clark, Wrestling Promoter 

Yesterday, I saw a post from a pro wrestling promotion in Arizona looking for talent.

No gimmick. No catch. Just an opportunity.

I took a few minutes out of my day and privately shared that post with sixteen wrestlers—guys I thought might genuinely want to expand their footprint, work a new territory, or at least appreciate the heads-up.

Out of sixteen?

One said thank you.

One.

The Smallest Gesture Reveals the Biggest Problem

Let’s be clear about something:

I wasn’t asking for anything.

I wasn’t booking myself on the card.

I wasn’t attaching strings, favors, or expectations.

I was simply doing what wrestling used to be built on: helping someone else get an opportunity.

A quick “Thanks, I appreciate it” costs nothing.

It takes seconds.

But it speaks volumes.

The silence from the other fifteen said far more than any words could.

Entitlement Has Replaced Appreciation

There’s an ugly mindset creeping into wrestling—especially on the independent level:

“I deserve opportunities.”

“People should help me.”

“That’s just how it works.”

No. It’s not.

No one owes you leads.

No one owes you connections.

No one owes you a single message, post, or recommendation.

When someone goes out of their way to think of you—to include you—to try to help you—gratitude isn’t optional. It’s basic professionalism.

Silence doesn’t make you look busy.

It doesn’t make you look important.

It makes you look ungrateful.

Wrestling Is a Relationship Business (Whether You Like It or Not)

This business has always run on relationships:

Who thought of you when an opportunity came up

Who vouched for you when your name was mentioned

Who passed along a contact instead of keeping it to themselves

People remember who acknowledges help—and who doesn’t.

And here’s the reality most don’t want to hear:

The people who quietly help you today are often the same people who could help you again tomorrow… or decide not to.

Why I’ll Move Differently Going Forward

Out of sixteen wrestlers, one showed appreciation.

So going forward, that’s likely the one I’ll think of first.

Not out of spite.

Not out of ego.

But out of respect for mutual professionalism.

Gratitude tells me:

You recognize effort

You value connections

You understand this business is bigger than just yourself

Those are the people worth helping.

A Simple Reminder to Wrestlers Everywhere

You don’t have to accept every opportunity.

You don’t have to be interested.

You don’t have to say yes.

But when someone tries to help you?

Say thank you.

It costs nothing.

And it may be worth more than you realize.

Because in wrestling—as in life—entitlement closes doors, but gratitude opens them.

🎄 Headlocks & Holidays: How Pro Wrestling Made Christmas (and Thanksgiving) Magic

 

There was a time—not really that long ago, though it feels like another lifetime—when the holidays didn’t just mean turkey, tinsel, and family gatherings. For wrestling fans, especially in the territories, Thanksgiving night and Christmas night were as much a part of the season as pumpkin pie and wrapping paper.

If you grew up on Georgia Championship Wrestling, Mid-South, Memphis, Crockett, or any of the old regional promotions, you know exactly what I mean. The holidays weren’t a break from wrestling. They were built for wrestling.

🦃 Thanksgiving Night: The Other Family Tradition

Before the days of Survivor Series and corporate pay-per-views, Thanksgiving night was sacred territory. Promoters knew something simple but powerful: after a full day of food, family, and football, people were itching to get out of the house.

And what better escape than a hot, smoky arena where the babyfaces were fighting for honor and the heels were ruining everyone’s holiday spirit?

Thanksgiving shows were often the biggest gates of the year. Fans packed into the Omni in Atlanta, the Mid-South Coliseum in Memphis, the Greensboro Coliseum for Crockett’s Starrcade, and countless small-town armories and civic centers.

It wasn’t just a show—it was a ritual. A tradition. A night where the crowd felt like one big extended family.

🎄 Christmas Night: Wrestling’s Unlikely Winter Wonderland

Christmas night wrestling is something younger fans almost can’t believe existed. But it did—and it was huge.

Promoters understood the rhythm of the holiday. Morning: presents. Afternoon: food. Evening: “Alright, we’ve been cooped up long enough—let’s go see some wrestling.”

And the wrestlers? They worked it because that’s what the business demanded. Some of them joked that Santa brought them a booking sheet instead of a day off. Others embraced it, knowing the holiday crowds were some of the loudest and most emotional of the year.

There was something special about those Christmas cards. The lights felt brighter. The cheers felt warmer. The feuds felt more personal. And the fans—maybe a little sentimental from the season—were ready to believe in heroes.

🌟 Promoters Knew the Power of the Moment

Holiday shows weren’t just about selling tickets. They were about emotion. Promoters saved big blow-offs, cage matches, and title bouts for these nights because they knew the crowd would be electric.

Thanksgiving and Christmas were perfect storytelling anchors:

• Thanksgiving was for grudges, betrayals, and big turns.

• Christmas was for redemption, triumph, and the babyface finally getting his moment.

It was wrestling as a seasonal ritual—mythmaking with a side of cranberry sauce.

🎁 For Fans, It Was Pure Magic

Ask anyone who grew up in that era, and they’ll tell you: There was nothing like piling into the car after dinner, heading to the arena with the cold air biting your face, and stepping inside to the warmth of the crowd and the roar of the ring.

It felt like stepping into a second home. A place where the holidays didn’t pause the action—they amplified it.

Those nights stitched themselves into memory. Not because of any one match, but because of the feeling. The sense that wrestling was part of the season, part of the rhythm of life, part of what made the holidays feel complete.

🎅 The Business Has Changed, But the Memories Haven’t

Today, the territory system is gone, and holiday wrestling isn’t the institution it once was. But for those who lived it, those Thanksgiving and Christmas cards remain some of the most vivid memories in all of wrestling fandom.

They remind us of a time when wrestling was local, personal, and woven into the fabric of community life. A time when promoters understood the heartbeat of their towns. A time when wrestlers gave up their holidays so fans could make memories with theirs.

And maybe that’s why those nights still glow so brightly in our minds. Because they weren’t just shows. They were gifts.

Why Politics Should Stay Out of Pro Wrestling

 

Professional wrestling has always been a strange, wonderful hybrid of sport, theater, and mythology. It thrives on exaggerated personalities, long-term storytelling, and the shared suspension of disbelief between performers and fans. For more than a century, wrestling has survived wars, cultural shifts, and generational changes—not because it chased political relevance, but because it offered something rare: escape.

That escape is exactly why politics and pro wrestling are a volatile mix.

Wrestling Is a Refuge, Not a Rally

Fans come to wrestling for many reasons: nostalgia, community, catharsis, heroism, villainy, and the simple joy of watching good triumph—or fail spectacularly. Wrestling crowds are some of the most diverse audiences imaginable. Republicans sit next to Democrats. Libertarians cheer alongside progressives. Some fans follow politics closely; others avoid it entirely.

The one thing they usually agree on?

They didn’t buy a ticket to attend a political lecture.

When political messaging—overt or implied—enters the wrestling space, it fractures that shared experience. What was once a unifying escape becomes another arena for division, and wrestling loses one of its most powerful qualities: universality.

The Mick Foley Situation Highlights a Larger Problem

Recent headlines involving Mick Foley’s decision to distance himself from WWE over political associations have reignited debate about politics in wrestling. Foley is widely respected—not just for his legendary in-ring career, but for his intelligence, compassion, and willingness to speak his mind.

And that’s the key distinction.

Mick Foley, the private citizen, has every right to his political opinions. So does any wrestler, promoter, or fan. The issue isn’t having political beliefs—it’s when and where those beliefs intersect with wrestling itself.

When wrestling becomes a platform for political alignment, endorsement, or opposition, it puts fans in an impossible position:
Enjoy the product while swallowing a message you may strongly disagree with—or walk away.

Neither outcome is good for wrestling.

Wrestling Works Best When It Speaks in Archetypes

The most successful wrestling stories are built on timeless themes:

• Good vs. evil

• Power vs. rebellion

• Pride vs. humility

• Order vs. chaos

These archetypes resonate across cultures and generations because they are human, not partisan. Once those themes are reframed through modern political lenses, they stop being universal and start being exclusionary.

The heel shouldn’t represent a political party.
The babyface shouldn’t feel like a campaign ad.
The ring should never resemble a press conference.

Fans Are Exhausted—Wrestling Shouldn’t Add to That

We live in an era of nonstop political noise. Social media, cable news, podcasts, and algorithms ensure that no one ever really “logs off” from the culture war. Wrestling has long been one of the few places where fans could unplug, cheer, boo, and feel something uncomplicated for a couple of hours.

When politics enters the ring—whether intentionally or by association—that sanctuary erodes.

Wrestling doesn’t need to be relevant to today’s political arguments.
It needs to be timeless.

The Business Cost of Political Entanglement

From a purely business standpoint, politicizing wrestling is risky. Promotions rely on broad appeal, merchandise sales, live attendance, and long-term brand loyalty. Alienating even a portion of the audience for non-wrestling reasons makes little sense.

History shows that wrestling thrives when it focuses on:

• Talent development

• Compelling stories

• Athletic credibility

• Emotional investment

Not ideological signaling.

Let Wrestlers Be Wrestlers—And People Be People

This isn’t a call for silence or censorship. Wrestlers are human beings with beliefs, passions, and convictions. They should be free to express those views outside the wrestling product, just like anyone else.

But the wrestling ring should remain neutral ground.

Because once fans feel like they’re being sorted, judged, or targeted based on their political beliefs, wrestling stops being wrestling—and starts being something far less magical.

Final Thoughts

Pro wrestling has survived for generations because it knows what it is—and what it isn’t.

It isn’t a political movement.
It isn’t a moral tribunal.
It isn’t a battleground for modern ideology.

It is storytelling.
It is spectacle.
It is escape.

And in a divided world, that escape may be more important than ever.

You Can Leave Wrestling — But Wrestling Never Leaves You

 

2025 has quietly become a year of goodbyes in professional wrestling.

On the national stage, legendary names, such as John Cena, announced their retirements. On the independent circuit—especially here in Kentucky—we saw respected veterans like John Noble and Shane Andrews step away from the ring. Add in the reports of a dozen or more major stars calling it a career this year alone, and it’s hard not to notice a pattern.

It feels like wrestling is closing a chapter.

But anyone who has spent real time in this business knows better.

Because wrestling has a way of reopening doors we swore were shut for good.

Retirement in Wrestling Is Rarely Final

If retirement truly meant the end, the industry’s history would look very different.

Ric Flair retired… then returned.
Hulk Hogan retired… then came back in various forms.
On the Kentucky independent scene, names like “Showtime” Shawn Christopher and “Beautiful” Billy Maverick resurfaced after years away—men many assumed were done for good.

And I’m no exception.

I walked away from promoting in 2007.
Returned briefly in 2010 for a Hardcore Championship Wrestling show.
Then stepped away again—this time for years.

Yet in 2025, I found myself back in the business once more.

Not because I planned it.
Not because I needed it.
But because wrestling has a pull that’s hard to explain to anyone who’s never lived it.

Wrestling Isn’t Just a Job — It’s an Identity

Most careers allow you to clock out at the end of the day. Wrestling doesn’t.

When you’ve bled in a ring, driven hours for little or no pay, worked through injuries, and shared locker rooms with people who become family, wrestling stops being something you do and starts being something you are.

You don’t just miss the matches.
You miss the locker room.
You miss the road.
You miss the feeling of being part of something that only a small group of people truly understands.

Even the frustrations—the politics, the injuries, the heartbreak—become oddly familiar comforts over time.

The Applause Is Only Part of It

People often assume wrestlers come back because they miss the spotlight.

That’s only half true.

What many really miss is purpose.

Wrestling gives structure to chaos. It gives meaning to pain. It turns struggle into story. When that’s gone, there’s a void that other careers rarely fill. Normal life can feel quiet—too quiet—after years of adrenaline, crowds, and constant motion.

And once you’ve experienced that rhythm, it’s hard to accept silence.

Time Changes the Role — Not the Love

Most wrestlers who return aren’t chasing the same things they once did.

They come back older.
Wiser.
More selective.

Some return as mentors.
Some as promoters.
Some for one last match.
Some just to be around the business again.

But the common thread remains the same: wrestling still matters to them.

The ring may change.
The role may change.
The body certainly changes.

But the connection doesn’t.

Once It’s in Your Blood…

There’s an old saying in wrestling that once it’s in your blood, you can never truly walk away.

It’s not romantic.
It’s not poetic.
It’s simply true.

Wrestling is more than entertainment. It’s a culture, a brotherhood, and a proving ground that shapes people in ways few other professions can. You can retire from wrestling—but wrestling rarely retires from you.

So when someone announces they’re stepping away, the respectful thing to do is honor that moment.

But never be surprised if, someday down the road, you see them walk back through the curtain.

Because in professional wrestling, goodbye is often just another pause between chapters.

Know Your Worth… But Also Know Reality: A Message to Independent Wrestlers

 

Yesterday I was chatting with another wrestling promoter about talent recruitment. We were talking about expanding rosters, bringing in fresh faces, and giving new talent a platform to shine. But he told me something that made my jaw hit the floor — the biggest issue he faces is the number of independent wrestlers asking absolutely enormous fees.

I’m talking about guys with zero national exposure, some without even established regional presence, quoting $200… $250… sometimes more.

Let me be blunt:
That is insane.
No independent wrestler with no TV time, no major buzz, and no track record of drawing outside their home county is worth that kind of money. There are legitimate legends who don’t charge much more.

Let’s break this down.

The Math Doesn’t Lie

Say you’re an indie wrestler with no known draw outside your usual loop. A promoter a few hours away contacts you for a booking. You hit him with $250.

Do you realize what that means for the promoter?

At an average ticket price of around $15, he has to sell 17 tickets just to pay you alone.

Now ask yourself — and be honest:

Are YOU personally putting 17 people in those seats?
In a town you’ve never worked?
In front of an audience that doesn’t know you exist?

Highly unlikely.

Everyone wants their gas covered. Everyone wants to make a little profit. I get that. But most of you aren’t making multi-state drives. Most promoters are booking within a 3–6 hour radius. That means:

• Gas: $30–$50

• Food: $10–$20

• Total actual expenses: $40 - $70 - probably closer to the $40.00 range.

So how does that jump to a $250 asking price?

It doesn’t.
At least, not logically.

It’s different if a long-distance drive requires a hotel room — totally understandable. But most of you aren’t in that situation.

If You Want Big Money… You Need to Draw Big Money

If you truly believe you’re worth $250, then you should be able to personally put at least 15 butts in seats. Period.

If you can do that?
Great — you’re worth what you’re asking.

If you can’t?
Then be realistic.

This business has always been built on one thing:
Can you draw?
Everything else — talent, workrate, look, buzz — is secondary to this single question.

A True Story Promoters Should Pay Attention To

There used to be a promoter in my area who ran one of the worst shows you could imagine. I’m talking glorified backyard wrestling with a ring. The quality was abysmal.

But every month he packed the local armory with 300–400 people.

So naturally, I thought:

“If he can draw that with that, imagine what I could do with a real top-notch show.”

I booked the same venue.
And I got destroyed.

I pulled over $1,500 out of my own pocket just to make sure every worker and every expense was covered.

What was he doing that I wasn’t?

I found out:
He was telling his workers,
“If you want to be on this show, you must sell X number of tickets. If you don’t, you aren’t working.”

Guess what?
They ALL met quota.
And he packed the armory every show.

I’m not saying you have to love that system.
But you can’t argue with results.

Maybe More Promoters Should Consider It

Maybe promoters everywhere should start implementing a similar policy for wrestlers — especially for those asking for ridiculous amounts.

And not just unknown workers.
Some “names” should be held to the same standard.

I know of one ex-WWE guy asking $25,000 to work a show.
Another mid-card former WWE star is asking $9,000.

Really?
Come on.
That’s not happening.

If a wrestler — indy or TV-exposed — can’t draw enough tickets to justify their price, then the promoter is the one eating the loss. And most indie promoters can’t afford to do that.

Wrestlers, This Is Not an Attack — It’s a Reality Check

I respect all of you.
I respect the bumps you take, the time you invest, the money you pour into gear, travel, and training.

But you have to know your worth — and at the same time, know the market.

Before you quote a price, ask yourself:

“Can I personally draw enough people to justify this fee?”

If the answer is no, then maybe the fee shouldn’t be that high.

Remember, your payday isn’t just what the promoter gives you.
Most promoters don’t take a cut of your merch.
That’s your money.

And if you’re working a new area, congratulations — you’re expanding your brand, reaching new fans, and building future demand.

All that has value too.

Promoters and Wrestlers Can Both Win — If Everyone Stays Realistic

At the end of the day, most promoters want to pay talent fairly.
Wrestlers want to get paid fairly.

But independent wrestling only works when both sides operate inside reality, not fantasy.

If you want $250?
Draw $250.

If you want higher bookings?
Make yourself worth higher bookings.

Because at the end of the day, wrestling is a business — and the people who thrive in this business are the ones who understand that.