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From Trump to The Rock, WrestleMania goes over the top like no other

In the coliseum of American excess, annual wrestling showcase stands alone
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FILE - Wrestler John Cena, top, chokes Dwayne 鈥淭he Rock鈥 Johnson at a Wrestlemania event, April 7, 2013, in East Rutherford, N.J. Dwayne 鈥淭he Rock鈥 Johnson is back to perform in one of the main events this weekend鈥檚 WrestleMania in Philadelphia (AP Photo/Mel Evans, File)

He surveyed the Arizona crowd that had paid to catch a wrestling glimpse of the planet鈥檚 mightiest heavyweight, as measured in both box-office heft and ink-stained muscles. Then The Rock let the abuse fly. And as with so many public outbursts these days, attacking his opponents wasn鈥檛 enough. He had to insult the people, too.

鈥淭he Rock did a little bit of research, and here鈥檚 what he found out. This is the truth. This is a fact. The No. 1 city in America for is Phoenix, Arizona,鈥 The Rock said to a roaring crowd that seemed to revel in the insults. Then and only then did he lay the smack down on his WrestleMania opponents.

Were The Rock鈥檚 assertions true? Or just an engine for vigorous trash talk? Most importantly: Does anyone really care, as long as the entertainment value is cranked to 11 and WWE churns out more fans to watch and fork over cash for its signature spectacle, WrestleMania, unfolding in Philadelphia this weekend?

Along the murky lines that intertwine sports, entertainment and, yes, politics, the ethos of being bad has never been so good. Say what you want. Do you want. The public eats it up. And for decades, somehow, the garish world of professional wrestling has sat smack in the middle of it all.

Outside the ring, the Superman spandex traded for Clark Kent glasses and a leather jacket, Dwayne Johnson crafts his good-guy image to plug his movies, his tequila label, his men鈥檚 care line, his football league 鈥 business interests where the bottom line doesn鈥檛 require calling the competition a bunch of 鈥渞oody-poo candy-asses.鈥 But under the house lights each week on live TV, Johnson knows storylines are sold on his Hollywood heel persona.

鈥淚 feel like everybody wants to be the good guy, the good girl. Everyone wants to be loved and cheered and considered the hero, which is great and it鈥檚 natural,鈥 he says. 鈥淏ut, I have felt in my career, the rare air is when you have the opportunity to grab it by the throat, you don鈥檛 let it go. And that鈥檚 the opportunity to be a great bad guy.鈥

WRESTLEMANIA AND ITS CULTURAL PULL

The Rock is set to headline one of two nights of the annual WrestleMania event this weekend in Philadelphia, where more than 70,000 fans each night are expected to pack the NFL stadium that is home to the Eagles.

Banners of your favorite wrestlers, or the ones you love to hate, have smothered city street poles. Philly has been overrun by wrestling conventions, autograph signings, independent wrestling shows, podcast tapings, a 2K24 gaming tournament and all the other trappings that have turned the industry into a mainstream cultural phenomenon.

From the start, WrestleMania was born to be different.

Mr. T and Muhammad Ali helped pack Madison Square Garden in 1985, and 鈥淭he Showcase of the Immortals鈥 quickly turned a night of wrestling usually reserved for smoky arenas into the Super Bowl of entertainment. As WrestleMania approaches 40, it鈥檚 never been bigger 鈥 even with brainchild Vince McMahon a pariah and ousted from the company in the wake of a .

Yes, McMahon and Donald Trump even tangled at WrestleMania in 2007 in a 鈥淏attle of the Billionaires鈥 match.

鈥淒onald Trump, to a certain extent, represents a great deal of Americana,鈥 . 鈥淗e鈥檚 larger than life, which really fits into what the WWE is.鈥

Maybe wrestling really does represent who Americans are as a nation. But even if you still scrunch your nose like you took a whiff of curdled milk over the very idea that anyone would like this flavor of wrestling, odds are you鈥檝e still heard of The Rock and Hulk Hogan. Andre the Giant and John Cena. You鈥檝e snapped into a Slim Jim because Randy Savage ordered you to, or let out a 鈥淲oooo!鈥 at a hockey game like Ric Flair. Dave Bautista won a WrestleMania championship before he ever guarded the galaxy.

鈥淟ook at the way it was marketed in the 80s, when Vince McMahon really changed the whole industry forever,鈥 said author Brad Balukjian, whose is on 1980s WrestleMania stars. 鈥淗e鈥檚 got the action figures, he鈥檚 got the cartoon and the bedsheets and the lunch boxes. He turned these guys into the Batmans and the Marvel Cinematic Universe of the 80s, in a way.鈥

REVEL IN THE UNIVERSALLY ACCEPTED FAKERY

Fans have long been in on the con 鈥 and embraced it. It鈥檚 a mutual agreement forged for even paying customers to play their own roles in the four-sided ring performance. So they cheer. They boo. And despite all evidence to the contrary, they openly accept that each move is as legitimate a sporting action as anything found in a weeknight ballgame.

Wrestling pretended for so long to be on the up-and-up. Comedian Andy Kaufman drew gasps when he was slapped by wrestler Jerry Lawler on 鈥淟ate Night with David Letterman.鈥 But the curtain was yanked open long ago. On Wednesday, Johnson and WWE Universal Champion Roman Reigns appeared on the 鈥淭he Tonight Show鈥 without any manufactured theatrics on their final hype job ahead of WrestleMania.

Former WWE star Dave Schultz slapped a 鈥20/20鈥 reporter in the 1980s for calling wrestling fake. Now ESPN, The Athletic, Sports Illustrated and CBS Sports have dedicated pages that report on both storylines and behind-the-scenes news, where the real drama is more likely found. Wrestling news is treated as seriously as any other sport鈥檚.

But is it? A sport, that is.

Debate the definition all you want. Wrestling 鈥 a precursor to reality TV and all the Real Housewives 鈥 isn鈥檛 going anywhere. And its biggest fans are often the athletes who want to emulate the super-sized stars.

This week, Joel Embiid was about to divulge that he suffered from depression during an injury that cost him two months of his NBA career. But before the Philadelphia 76ers big man unburdened himself, he pulled on a WWE T-shirt emblazoned with the slogan of the wrestling company鈥檚 most boorish faction, : 鈥淪uck It.鈥

For pro wrestling, momentum is at hand. WWE鈥檚 weekly television show 鈥淩aw鈥 will move to Netflix next year as part of a major streaming deal worth more than $5 billion. That鈥檚 some serious cash that even the 鈥淢illion Dollar Man鈥 Ted DiBiase would envy.

So go ahead. Sneer at wrestling. Or let go, turn a blind eye to the subterfuge and embrace and the frenzy that followed as a staple of the global sports landscape. Because it鈥檚 not leaving the building anytime soon.

Consider John Kruk, retired Phillies star and team broadcaster. You鈥檇 think that the pinnacle moment of baseball each year would be a must-see for him. But if pro wrestling is coming to town, as he on TV recently, other priorities prevail.

鈥淚f it was a World Series game, if the Phillies aren鈥檛 participating, and wrestling was on,鈥 Kruk said, 鈥淚鈥檓 watching wrestling.鈥

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