Let’s talk for a little bit about how pro wrestling matches themselves can be different. I’m talking about more than just skin-deep; I want to talk about the bones. If you watch WWE, AEW, NJPW, and UWFi (from back in the day) one after another, you’ll see that they’re all presented with significant differences, but they all move in a way that has basic similarities. There’s an underlying assumption that everyone shares about wrestling. This is what I call the “match theory”. This article is going to explain what I think the common match theory is, then I’m going to introduce my own match theory: vulnerability theory.
Again, I want to clarify that what I have in mind when I discuss this topic is Anglo-American pro wrestling and Japanese pro wrestling. I’ve spent the least amount of time watching Mexican pro wrestling (i.e. lucha libre) of the three major scenes, so I can’t say that what I’m going to propose here would fit. I certainly have areas I would like to explore: submission holds, for instance, are treated differently in Mexico than in America or Japan. I just want to acknowledge that this is a blind spot, so if I say “all wrestling” or something like that, what I really mean to say is “American and Japanese wrestling”.
When I say “match theory”, what I’m specifically talking about are the assumptions about how a match’s progression should be defined. Those who are familiar with wrestling might think that this is referring to “shine-heat-comeback”, but that’s something different. What match theory defines is what each move or wrestling act means it context. Why is it meaningful to do a suplex or a Boston crab hold or a clothesline? That’s match theory.
Theories of Damage
The common match theory is really two related theories which are generally used together. These are damage (or damage-only) theory and finisher theory; together they can be called damage theory or just common match theory. Obviously, the key concept for these theories is damage. This wrestling-specific concept of damage means that the object of a match is for one wrestler to deal enough damage to their opponent that the first wrestler can finish the match with a victory. Reversing that, we can then consider each wrestler to have a quality called endurance which represents how much damage they can endure before they are susceptible to be defeated. In these terms, a finisher is any move which deals a significant amount of damage regardless of the other particulars: how well it was executed, how strong/able the executer is, how much damage a similar non-finisher move would do, etc. Finishers can come in different grades (something that happens and changes on a case-by-case, ad-hoc basis) depending on use; there’s no definite system for figuring this out.
As should be clear, we are not talking about “real damage” here, we are talking about damage “in kayfabe”. In “real life”, you can’t simply declare a move to be more powerful than another one: it is or it isn’t. Also, in most wrestling presentations, a wrestler’s endurance is primarily linked to their importance (or “card position”) rather than their actual physical attributes. This point will become more relevant later so I figured I wouldn’t pass it over.
In damage-only theory, what matters is dealing enough damage to exhaust your opponent’s endurance, at which point you can win the match. Very often, a top-level wrestler’s finisher is capable of doing enough damage to instantly defeat a low-level wrestler. This isn’t necessary, however, as the main thing is to knock down the opponent’s endurance by any means available. Attempts at winning the match before this point are more for show than anything else. However, one of the key aspects of damage/endurance is that nothing is defined. These are senses or feelings or vibes. It isn’t as though wrestlers have literal health bars, as in fighting games. Basically, damage-only theory implies that the crowd is not going to believe that the match can end until they believe that a wrestler’s endurance is close to being emptied. The suspense or drama of this moment comes from the fact that the fans don’t know exactly when this point is or what move will make it happen.
This presents a clear drawback, however. Since every person is effectively deciding for themselves how much endurance a wrestler has, there can be a point at which people in the crowd can be convinced that the match should be long over while those in the ring have not yet reached that point. The symbols are clear enough but the effect is mysterious, and this means that there’s a potential for disconnect. This is one way a match can lose the crowd.
I’m not saying that this is a definite link, but I think it’s pretty plausible that this drawback is what led to the creation of finisher theory. As far as I know there wasn’t a single person who came up with this, but finisher theory does go some way to addressing the issue presented by damage-only theory. It should be relatively easy to manage the crowd’s attention when each wrestler’s endurance is pretty simple to decipher, like when a top-line wrestler faces a low-ranked one. When both wrestlers are top-line, though – when both have a high level of perceived endurance – the chance of over- or under-shooting the crowd’s expectations increases. Finisher theory provides an extra way to manage expectations at the very end.
In finisher theory, damage isn’t the be-all end-all. Instead, wrestlers remain guarded while they have endurance remaining, and threatened (or “in check”) when they have none. When a wrestler is threatened, they can be attacked with their enemy’s main finisher. A wrestler can only be believably defeated after they have been subjected to their enemy’s main finisher while they are threatened. Even so, this should be considered a high-percentage chance rather than an absolute guarantee of victory. In this theory, the main finisher serves two roles: first, when an opponent is guarded, it acts largely as it does under damage-only theory; second, when an opponent is threatened, it serves as the final condition that makes victory possible.
While it seems as though finisher theory throws away any chance of exciting the crowd in the middle of the match (at least using the drama of a potential finish), these two related theories emerge in different situations. Finisher theory typically only appears in top-level matches where the crowd would fully expect both wrestlers’ endurance to be very high. In such a situation, you actually wouldn’t lose much by “gating” the potential end behind clear symbols. On the other hand, this eliminates the ambiguity caused by wrestlers with high endurance, since the crowd no longer has to guess how much endurance they have, they can simply watch to see when a late-match finisher is hit. I specified that the target wrestler has to be threatened because it is true that sometimes wrestlers will hit their main finisher early in the match, but crowds are less likely to believe that this is a potential finish the less convinced they are that the target is in a threatened state. This is unlike how finishers are treated in damage-only theory, when hitting a finisher at any time (even 1 second into the match) is considered a plausible finish.
Vulnerability Theory
The theory I’m proposing here is called vulnerability theory, as its main concept is not damage but vulnerabilities. If you are an player of roleplaying games, you might associate the idea of vulnerabilities with wounds, and this is both right and wrong; I do regret bringing this up but it is relevant. While there are certain mechanical similarities between the ideas and their goals, there is a key difference, which is that the relationship between wounds and damage is different than that between vulnerabilities and damage: a wound signals a chance to deal increased damage while a vulnerability does not.
A vulnerability, in terms of vulnerability theory, is some thing, event, or phenomenon that afflicts a wrestler, causing one or more of the following: 1) an offensive act to be ineffective; 2) a defensive act to be ineffective; 3) some other general fault (such as in movement). An unambiguous injury is the most obvious kind of vulnerability, but it would be misleading to focus on that.
Damage theory obviously uses injuries and other effects that could be classified as vulnerabilities. However, in damage theory, even if an injury etc. does act as a vulnerability, its main role is as a specific target to be attacked. Any injury – from a major one which requires an obvious cast or similar to a temporary hurt caused by typical mid-match fighting – exists primarily to be something for the bearer to protect and an enemy to attack. That is the drama of a wound. It is not the drama of a vulnerability.
Ending a match in vulnerability theory is therefore not a function of beating down an opponent’s endurance. It is not even a function of stacking vulnerabilities on one’s opponent. Instead, the relationship between victory and doing moves is flipped to some extent. In this theory, a match is ended when one wrestler uses a successful decision hold on their opponent.
Now first, I have to say this: I did want to just call this concept a “finisher”, but I had to be realistic and see that it would only get confusing. A decision hold is different than what we usually mean in wrestling by a finisher, which I laid out previously. Rather than being the big move, a decision hold is a pinning maneuver or a submission hold which will directly lead to the match end: it’s the way you hold an opponent down for the three count or make them tap out. Most decision holds should be considered high-percentage holds: once locked-in, the subject theoretically could escape but they likely won’t. This holds for everyone, up and down the card.
So what is the solution for a wrestler? In damage theory, the idea is that wrestlers should deal damage while trying not to take damage. In vulnerability theory, you just avoid getting into a decision hold. Wrestlers who are at the top level don’t just absorb damage, they avoid bad situations. If they take a fall, they roll onto their side. They play good defense and they keep their attack up to make it impossible for their opponent to respond. How does one overcome that? This is where vulnerabilities come in.
Let’s say that a match is a struggle which can be broken down into a series of minor struggles, which can then be broken down further, and on and on, as far as we want to go. In each struggle (as a sub-unit), each wrestler is putting out an effort: this isn’t just “the amount they’re trying”, this is like their total output. Put another way, a top wrestler might be less engaged and even less determined than an opponent, but their physical attributes and skill can mean that the top wrestler still produces a higher level of effort. Obviously, like damage, effort isn’t something that we can exactly measure. But the struggle gives us a chance to compare efforts. When we compare one against another, we’ll see that the first effort is either superior, comparable, or inferior to its counterpart.
When an effort is superior, it will naturally and straightforwardly succeed. Its counterpart is clearly inferior in this situation. When it is inferior, the outcome and counterpart’s position are opposite. When the two efforts are comparable, the result is basically null. No one gets an advantage, no one completes the move they wanted. While this sounds like a bad result, this can be a striking dramatic element of matches: the moments when the wrestlers are evenly matched, at least briefly, before one or another gets the upper hand. We need those moments where efforts are comparable and neutralizing.
When wrestlers are considered to be relatively equal in ability, moments of comparable effort can be defining of the match. Just as defining, then, is how such a stalemate is broken. First: why does the stalemate need to be broken? To answer this, we should assume that the times when a generally-inferior wrestler will most match a generally-superior wrestler are when the inferior wrestler is most at danger of losing the match. This would be due to the fact that the inferior wrestler would expend more energy and willpower at such a moment than at any other. If this is the case, we should also assume that the move which the superior wrestler wants to complete would significantly push the match towards their victory. This means that the superior wrestler’s main obstacle in securing a decision hold and winning the match is the fact that such stalemates continue, and therefore their goal has to be eliminating further stalemates. This also implies that the inferior wrestler’s general goal must be to increase the number of struggles they succeed in by whatever means necessary.
Vulnerabilities are what allow these stalemates to be broken. This produces a different effect than the wound effect and allows for different, more active selling. In damage theory, a wound must be constantly displayed to the crowd so that it can be understood that it exists. In vulnerability theory, it remains important to show that a vulnerability has been caused, it can then be hidden. For wounds, what is important is that it is present; for vulnerabilities, what’s important is that it exists. A vulnerability can happen and then the wrestler can continue wrestling as normal, only for that vulnerability to later cause a slip or a collapse that leads directly to the match ending. The issue becomes opportunities which are missed or granted rather than how much the wound can endure.
Now, I could go on for longer and explain more about how this idea could be implemented, but I’m going to leave that for now. I think this is a good primer on the idea of vulnerability theory. I hope to build on this idea but, you know. I work as I get the bug.