Pro Wrestling Books

Many pro wrestlers have been told their life would make for a captivating novel – and many have written autobiographies with a healthy dose of fiction – but this is quite the twist on the concept of “inspired by a true story”. Long time British wrestling fans who skip the blurb will quickly recognise that both the character of Jonny Arnold and the details of his career and personal life and incredibly reminiscent of Adrian Street. That makes much more sense once you realise the novel’s author AD Stranik is in fact Street’s son. Given Street documented his life in extensive detail over no fewer than seven volumes of autobiography, it would require a different approach to cover this time period, the initial years after he moved to London. Stranik writes what he dubs “Brit Grit” crime drama, with the less salubrious side of London in the swinging sixties as much a character as Arnold himself. There’s plenty for wrestling fans here, capturing elements such as the Joint Promotions vs Independents setup, the bloodier and more violent aspects of non-televised shows, and the genuine aspects of competition between wrestlers that went far beyond who was booked to win a public…

This is certainly a diversion from the usual wrestling novel and its darkness and power may be a matter of personal taste. While most wrestling novels tap into the territorial era, this is set in the modern independent circuit. It’s a tale of weekend warriors for whom local titles are their world championship. How “big” the promotions actually are is not always clear and in some sense it doesn’t really matter. From a wrestling perspective, the real appeal of the story is how main character Mason Grady sees winning a title belt as vindication for his attempts to get his life back on track after injuries and a painkiller addition. It’s a desire wrestling fans will recognize as both ridiculously meaningless and completely understandable. The book is as much about Grady’s battles with what the wrestling business euphemistically calls “personal demons” as it is his in-ring ‘career’ and is extremely heavy on character and introspection ahead of plot. It’s an intentionally tough and uncomfortable read in terms of content. It’s also a very personal book: author Daniel Alexander was himself an independent wrestler who suffered injuries in and out of the ring, eventually making the decision to abandon his dreams…

An unusual tweak on the wrestling novel genre, this is a fun look at life after wrestling. The two Indians in question are characters of the Chief Jay Strongbow and Jinder Mahal variety respectively. Across the early chapters this appears to be the familiar format of a territory era wrestling novel which usually turns into either a fictional career bio or a crime drama. Instead we quickly jump forward to the modern day where Mohawk Jones and Cobra Tara Singh, former ring rivals, are now unlikely housemates and occasional convention circuit partners. They form a comedic pairing and there’s a definite air of WWE Legends House. Without giving too much away, the story goes through several turns before finding a creative way to return to the wrestling world despite the lead characters being long retired. It’s a breezy read and does a good job of explaining the workings of wrestling to non-fans while remaining plausible to more dedicated followers. On occasion it’s a little more tell than show, but Jones and Singh are an engaging duo and the book definitely leaves scope for future adventures. Disclaimer: The author provided a review copy. Read on Amazon

Appropriately enough this is a no holds barred view of pro wrestling from an outsider. The first half of this book (Rousey’s second volume of autobiography) covers her final two MMA bouts (both defeats) and the beginnings of her relationship with Travis Browne. It’s largely soul searching and won’t necessarily appear to wrestling fans, though her claims about the long-term effects of her repeated concussions raise some serious questions about medical screening in both UFC and WWE. The second half, covering both her WWE runs, is a notable parallel to the recently released autobiography of fellow WrestleMania main eventer Becky Lynch. While they cover many of the same events, Lynch’s WrestleMania dream was a lifetime obsession built on years doing the grind. Rousey comes to the business late and from a place of obsession. After transferring her legitimate fighting skills to TV drama and movies, she is clearly fascinated by the artform of live dramatic fighting with a 360 degree audience and no retakes. It’s clear that wrestling became the latest in a lifetime of periods dedicated to trying to master a task before moving on with her life. While the story of her adjustment to wrestling is a compelling…

Not just an biography, this is a remarkable insight into the psychology and mental element of working as a professional wrestler at every level of the business. Lynch’s career path is an unusual one, grinding on the independent circuit for several years then getting completely out of the business before returning via a WWE tryout and going straight into the new-look developmental system. This comes across in the book as a different perspective of the usual experience of moving from being active on the independent circuit into the “big league”. The biggest theme of the book is the balance and seeming contradiction between the self-doubt that comes with knockbacks and struggling to make an impression with fans and management, and the sheer confidence and drive to be determined to headline WrestleMania despite it seeming a near-impossibility that any woman would ever do so, let alone herself. There’s plenty of behind-the-scenes detail here that confirms many rumors about wrestlers on all sides aiming to preserve their position (including the first appearance of a particularly strong expletive in a WWE-based autobiography), but it’s primarily about Lynch herself. In some ways it resembles Drew Galloway’s decision to focus his book on his thought…

Short but sweet, this may be too brief for some buyers. Lying somewhere between an extremely extended blog post and a very concise book, Amazon estimates a print version of this e-Book only title would be around 30 pages, something that’s important to remember if you’re considering a purchase. Unlike some less reputable titles such AI-generated “biographies”, this is an appropriate length for the subject matter: a detailed look at a single PPV. Rather than simply recapping the moves, this adds some content and background both for individual matches and for the event as a whole, including the perspective of a viewer in the UK where it was the first WWF PPV on broadcast television. It also includes analysis of the matches, concentrating on why particular elements worked rather than simply what happened. (One exception is the Rumble match itself which curiously switches into the present tense and is largely a running commentary.) The book achieves what it sets out to do and certainly doesn’t fall short of its billing. The question is whether that’s enough to justify a purchase, which is a matter where personal opinions mary vary. Read on Amazon. (Affiliate Link) Disclaimer: The author provided a review copy.

A third volume of autobiography is always a challenge, but the gimmick here doesn’t really hit. As the likes of Mick Foley and Chris Jericho have shown, later chronological volumes usually prove diminishing returns with too short a period to cover. The alternative is a fresh format, something that works well in some cases (Bobby Heenan) and not so well in others (Jericho again). Here the gimmick is 50 short chapters, each based around an incident in Ross’s career and pegged onto a line of commentary (though in most cases we get multiple occasions.) The big problem is that many of his most important career moments have already been documented in his previous books. What’s left is a combination of chapters making a single point (racial portrayals have progressed in the business), covering less important moments (Jeff Hardy was elevated despite losing to Undertaker) and elements from Ross’s personal life that are sometimes clunkily connected to a match call to fit the format. It’s the last of these categories where the book most often shines, with genuinely touching insights into Ross losing his wife in a tragic car accident, coping with the adjustment to single life, using work as a…

This is a well-researched and often illuminating biography, but for a WWF superstar subject, his time in the promotion is the weakest aspect of the book. This is the closest thing to an authoritative biography of Savage thanks to brother Lanny Poffo being a key source before his own passing. It also brings together quotes from a wide variety of figures both inside and outside the business, usually – though not always – commenting on topics where they have particular knowledge or insight. This research pays off most in the accounts of Savage’s childhood, baseball career and pre-WWF wrestling days. While for those outside North America the cited baseball statistics could have used more explanation and context, there’s plenty on Savage’s motivations and even a rounded account of father Angelo Poffo’s time in the business. The book also has some fresh and intriguing accounts of Savage’s out-of-the-ring activities from the production of his signature ring gear to his time working with Slim Jim, his baseball announcing and his talk show appearances. Unfortunately, the coverage of his in-ring career after joining the WWF brings less insight. That’s partly because there’s little new to tell here and partly because of some inaccuracies….

Somewhat a mirror image of its predecessor, this works as an overall collection of articles, even if some pieces feel a little flat. The second compilation from WrestleTalk, this follows The New War: AEW vs WWE. I found that while individual pieces were intriguing, it didn’t necessarily hang together as an overall narrative or history of a time period. The situation is reversed here, with a much broader topic, namely wrestling’s crossover into the real world. Topics include the portrayal of gay and disabled characters, political-based storylines, the Chris Benoit case and the lack of unions in the business. Despite being less directly connected, the book’s themes comes together, turning the compilation format into a strength. The main problem is that many articles have plenty of relevant content, but left me unfulfilled at the end. Too often the writer would provide plenty of examples and incidents on a particular topic but either intentionally avoid making a conclusive argument or unintentionally lack a big picture point. Pieces intended to be thought-provoking often failed to really cut through. Some notable exceptions do lift the book. A piece giving some previously underreported examples of mafia involvement stands out, as does a (perhaps overly)…

Something of a mixed bag, this takes a while to get going but provides some useful insight. The ghostwritten format works well when sharing the first-hand accounts of Dewey Robertson, the man behind the gimmick. However, in what could be either an attempt of completeness or a touch of padding out, the book does occasionally fall into extensive lists which are neither informative nor entertaining. Unfortunately this is particularly prevalent in the early stages dealing with Robertson’s early life and local wrestling career before moving out to the territorial circuits. This means readers will need to stick with it to get to the best content. Once into the meat of his career, the book becomes insightful, with Robertson sharp on the way promoters operated, the importance of character development, booking approaches and the realities of varying pay structures. It’s particularly strong on the similarities and differences of various promotions and the realities of their declines. One confusing element is the approach to kayfabe: Robertson is open about how wrestling worked and why particular booking patterns emerged, yet at times describes matches as if he was legitimately competing to win. It’s more of a linguistic quirk than an attempt to fool…