I got into pro wrestling by accident. I took my daughter over to my friend Kyle’s house one afternoon — the afternoon of “Wrestlemania XL.” And now I’m kinda back into pro wrestling for the first time since middle school.

Like any pop culture rabbit hole, it’s got me fascinated on a few levels.

Pro wrestling developed in post-Civil War America as a carnival sideshow attraction. Staging matches was a great way for carnival workers to make a few extra bucks in the betting pools, and the cash would really flow when wrestlers could sell the rivalry beforehand. And if a reliable stable of wrestlers trained in the art of convincingly staged combat could be assembled and those rivalries controlled to play for and against audience expectations? Thus, modern wrestling was born.

The history of pro wrestling in America is one of its draws. The U.S. was divided into territories with various pro wrestling leagues controlling the matches and promotion in a particular region. It wasn’t until the early 1980s that Vince McMahon consolidated things by breaking a decades-old gentleman’s agreement and buying up all the regional wrestling leagues.

McMahon’s World Wrestling Federation became World Wrestling Entertainment, or WWE, in 2002. It has dominated the pro wrestling landscape ever since, with competitors rising up now and again, including Extreme Championship Wrestling and World Championship Wrestling, which both eventually were bought out by the WWE, and All Elite Wrestling, which has gained popularity in recent years through airing its matches on cable television.

“But it’s fake,” is the common argument against wrestling. “It’s so stupid,” is another.

If this is truly the case, then I will stop watching wrestling when everyone else stops watching any form of reality television. Yes, viewers of “The Great British Baking Show,” that also includes you. “Antiques Roadshow” fans, you’re not exempt, either.

Also, it isn’t fake. What people mean when they deride pro wrestling as “fake” is that it’s staged. Yes, matches are predetermined, but by the time wrestlers (athletic performers, if you prefer) reach the level where their matches are aired on national television, their rise has involved numerous factors, including fan reactions, their mic work and overall persona, not to mention their overall athleticism.

Scripting wrestler interactions and match outcomes requires balancing all of these factors across the roster of performers at any given time. Careful planning can be upended by injuries and other unexpected elements, but, when done right, it creates the incredible moments that keep fans coming back. It’s unique in the world of entertainment: an athletic spectacle with heavy theatrical elements.

As I watched the buildup for the final match of “Wrestlemania XL,” a world title bout between long-reigning champ Roman Reigns and longtime-in-the-hunt Cody Rhodes, I got lost in the escalating tension and physical spectacle. When John Cena made a surprise appearance to aid Rhodes, I raised my fists and cheered. A few minutes later, the arena went black, and a funeral bell tolled, signaling the entrance of The Undertaker. My jaw dropped as he choke slammed The Rock into the mat to even the playing field for Rhodes to ultimately win the title for the first time.

When it was all over, I was bewildered, caught in the post-match glow of, “What did I just see?” — just as the writers, producers and performers intended. 

Thompson, VHS.D, holds a doctorate of cult media in pop culture from University of Maine at Castle Rock. He delivers lectures on movies and other pop culture topics under the moniker Professor VHS. Find him on Instagram as @professorvhs and more of his work at professorvhs.substack.com.