Headlock on my heart: Why heels give me the feels

An open love letter to wrestling’s scoundrels from Cageside Seats’ most notorious author.

Today is Valentine’s Day, a time when convention dictates I should be expressing my love and appreciation for my caring, devoted, and patient wife. However, I find myself compelled to express my admiration for another: the antagonists of pro wrestling, commonly known as heels.

But don’t worry, dear readers. I’ll be sure to take care of Mrs. G0MEZ on Feb. 15 once the price of flowers has returned to Earth and the Valentine’s Day cards and candies are half-priced. As I told her, “Yes, we’ll celebrate Valentine’s. Just not tonight, not at those prices.”

Before WWE’s mass marketing and mind control temporarily led me astray and steered me toward cheering for the good guys, my initial introduction to this genre was through Rowdy Roddy Piper. His cocky demeanor, ever-present snarl, and distinct manner of dress (“It’s not a skirt, it’s a kilt!”) whet my curiosity in such a way that inspired me to keep tuning in to learn more about him.

In my quest to discover as much as possible about this unusual personality, I found other flamboyant and boisterous adults disguised as characters I had never seen anywhere else. I quickly became drawn to Don Muraco, “Macho Man” Randy Savage, and a loudmouth kid from Kentucky named Jim Cornette, who looked like a chubby version of my mother’s nephew Phil. Soon, I found myself cheering for Nick Bockwinkel, howling in laughter at the soundbites of Bobby Heenan, and absorbing the wisdom of future Minnesota governor Jesse Ventura.

Earlier, I mentioned going off the path and following the good guys for a while. Looking back, that was a dark period in my fandom. Thankfully, I found my way back, courtesy of a writer at Pro Wrestling Illustrated, Eddie Ellner.

Longtime fans may remember Ellner and his column, Off the Top Rope, where he would run down every Goodie Two-Shoes, from Hulk Hogan to “Pandering Twit” Barry Windham. His most frequent target was Dusty Rhodes, whose contempt for The American Dream Ellner wore on his sleeve like a badge of honor. While the distinction of being wrestling’s first rogue columnist goes to the late great Dan Shocket, Ellner became the most prominent as wrestling’s golden age in the 1980s led to a steady demand for wrestling publications, with PWI and its sister magazines leading the way.

Pro Wrestling Illustrated, February 1989, via Internet Archive

But whether it was a wrestler or writer, the common thread among the persons mentioned is that they were each excellent communicators whose messages, while often over-the-top, were mostly free from restraint. They expressed themselves in a way I’d only seen comedians do. However, their job wasn’t to seek public validation, even if their verbal jabs connected with one’s funny bone.

While the goal of a wrestling bad guy is to incite a crowd to the point of showing up and paying good money to see them get their ass kicked, there was often truth behind their monologues, which they expressed brilliantly with raw emotion and wit. Unlike the good guys, who, for obvious reasons, sucked up to the people, the heels were direct with their intentions, exchanging etiquette for expression, public sentiment be damned.

In 1996, “Stone Cold” Steve Austin unloaded a lifetime of frustration, verbally assaulting upper management in WCW and WWE. When facing just the mention of Bret Hart, who considered himself the best wrestler ever, Austin’s rebuttal to Bret’s claim was short and sweet, saying, “If you put the letter ‘S’ in front of Hitman, you’d have my exact opinion of Bret Hart.”

Regarding criticism, often reflected by the jeers of a crowd, the response from heels is also unflinching. Whereas most people are forced to take complaints and objections with a forced grin, these rogue rebels typically say what most feel inside.

After returning to WWE in a noticeably smug manner in 2003, The Rock went scorched-earth on the WWE Universe, burning the city of Toronto to the ground. In his previous trip to the 416, fans booed Rocky out of the building during his mega-match with Hulk Hogan at WrestleMania 18, a fact the Great One remembered as fans tried to sing along with his famous catchphrases.

“Finally, The Rock has come back to Toron… to Toron… to run his mouth on all your candy asses!”

As Rock aired his grievances, he reminded Toronto of his success, something its hockey team had little of then, saying he was the biggest thing to hit Canada because “the Maple Leafs sucked.”

Yet despite his taunts and insults, those in attendance still tried to ride The Rock’s coattails, but the People’s Champ wasn’t having it. As they sang along with his closing line, Rock stopped short and spoke again to their sweetened bottoms, advising them of what to do with them.

“Take all your boos and stick ‘em straight up your maple syrup-suckin’ candy asses.”

It was a verbal evisceration like none other, entertaining as it was appalling and as unrefined as it was unrestrained.

And it is that type of freedom I choose to live my life, especially pertaining to my role here at Cageside Seats, where I reside as the admirer and authority on all things heel-related. But as I read through the comments section on any of my pieces, a common refrain from some readers is, “Oh, M. G0MEZ is just playing a gimmick.”

The short answer to that is, “Nope.”

What you read is what you get because it is who I am.

When confronted by the wife to do the dishes, I unpack every excuse imaginable to get out of doing them. If someone is taking too long at the Slurpee station, I have no issue bumping them out of the way, regardless of their age. And when I find myself in a crowded market with a single cashier focused on gossiping with the bagger, I’m happy to cut a terse promo encouraging them to step up the pace.

Maybe I’m funny, perhaps I’m a curmudgeon, but I’m honest, just like my heels, whom I still adore and appreciate so much, and whose path I’ve chosen to follow because life is too damn short to live any way but free.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a couch to prepare. Apparently, I’ve garnered heat with the wife and have been advised to sleep elsewhere this evening.

The price one pays for being fiscally responsible.