Sweet Emotion
Emotional Investment was the difference between WWE Great Balls Of Fire and WWE Battleground.

Last week I touched on the emotion stirred up during WWE’s Great Balls of Fire pay-per-view. Here we are now post Battleground, just two weeks removed from GBOF, and we have a distinct tale of two shows. The distinct lack of emotion from the crowd is the pink elephant in the room. Philadelphia is a historic wrestling town, usually better known for its raucousness, its rowdiness and character. Philly was distinctly subdued throughout, despite good matches from The New Day, the Usos, AJ Styles, Kevin Owens, Mike Kanellis, Sami Zayn and others. Aside from a few endings that didn’t fare well reaction wise, the matches were long enough, put together and executed pretty well. There was a key ingredient missing though. Emotion. Reaction. A sign of life, of interest, investment in the production before them.
Performers of all kinds depend on the reception of the crowd as a life force for their own motivation, to help defray their own butterflies and ply their craft to the best of their abilities. This is of course true for favorite superstars, it’s shown in many interviews from many individuals that the cheer or jeer of the people helps keep them going. As an audience member, it enriches the atmosphere of being at a show, it helps keep you engaged and adds another element of fun.
As an at home viewer, it helps you feel the connection to the crowd and the wrestlers no matter where you are. I have always felt the goal of professional wrestling was to help you to suspend reality, to draw you into the athletic story before you. The crowd is like the chorus of a musical, an integral part of helping to enhance the main song. You gasp when they gasp. You rise to your feet when they do. You respond to the athlete’s call for support. Even if you’re standing in the middle of your living room hundreds or thousands of miles away, perhaps even at a different point in time.
When the backup dancers are out of sync, or just missing altogether you notice it. You can feel it. It damages the connection with the scene. Does it necessarily diminish the enjoyment of the show? Not really, unless the performance of the wrestlers suffers noticeably. But you can feel something is missing. The high isn’t as great in my opinion. There’s nothing better to me, besides watching great wrestling and storytelling, is having an amazing crowd echoing your enjoyment. It makes you feel more part of the fun, more connected.
My reaction rabbit trail brings me to this conclusion:
On paper, Battleground had a great amount of potential. In execution on behalf of the matches and stories, there was some very good points. It wasn’t all bad. However a great crowd can make a so-so show seem much better. It can help ease any nervousness, help push the wrestlers to another level to want to please you. A bad crowd can make a so-so show seem even worse. When you take the matches for what they were, not what could’ve, should’ve, might’ve been — it wasn’t that bad at all.

Apathy, like complacency, kills. Crowd apathy curbs the spontaneous things that the world class wrestlers could be inspired to do by your investment in them. Negativity serves up more negativity. If we as fans spent as much time getting behind the good moments, cheering and encouraging the good parts as we did complaining about this finish or that spot or what have you, it might make everyone’s experience more enriched. Even if the match is terrible, but you’re having fun, it will be a positive experience. You can look back on the show with your buddies and say ‘Man that show was shit, but lord we had a good time!’
I know I’m preaching to the choir here, as I am as guilty of being a Negative Nellie as any other wrestling fan on the internet. It’s easy to go with the knee-jerk reaction and to dissect every little thing. It’s easy to find fault.
However, if we take a minute, and take the things for what they are, and appreciate what is being shared with us, it will make being a fan easier. Wrestling doesn’t have to be a chore. Does that mean we have to accept everything given to us? Not at all.
The best part (and the worst) is that wrestling as an art is completely subjective. So don’t feel pressured to eat every byte put out by WWE and say ‘thank you, can I have some more?’ Be selective. Take the bits and pieces that you love and gobble them up. Encourage the things you do enjoy, and whoop and holler and have a grand old time.
Wrestling is fun. That’s what it’s all about. And if we as fans have fun, then the performers have fun. And when they have fun, we have more fun. No rose colored glasses, but selective shades.

