Celebrities in the ring are a relic we need to retire
Look, I get it. The Peacock metrics need to climb. WWE wants those mainstream cross-over headlines that bring in people who think a suplex is just a fancy tax deduction. But when I turned on Saturday Night’s Main Event expecting a wrasslin' show, I didn't expect to see Karl-Anthony Towns playing enforcer for Danhausen. It’s 2026, and we are still doing the guest star shtick like it's 1985 and Cindy Lauper is wandering around the back of the arena.
Towns is a seven-foot tall human monument of athletic potential, yet there he was, looking about as comfortable in a wrestling ring as a cat in a bathtub. Watching him get physical during that Danhausen match felt like watching a high-stakes draft pick pull a hammy in a charity softball game. It’s insulting to the guys who work fifty-two weeks a year bumping on the hard mats for our collective amusement. When legitimate wrestlers have to slow down their pace to keep a non-wrestler safe, the match quality tanks instantly.
The Danhausen dilemma
Danhausen is a performer who relies on a very specific kind of chaotic, supernatural energy that keeps the crowd invested. You put him in there with a legit athlete like Towns, and the whole premise of the character gets diluted. It turns the match into a sideshow act, and frankly, we are past the point where WWE needs to rely on these gimmicks to pop a rating or trend on socials. We are seeing wrestling history rewritten in docuseries that often fail to capture the grit of the actual business, but having an NBA star walk in for a spot-fest just adds another layer of absurdity that nobody requested.
The spots were clunky, the pacing was off, and the finish left me wondering if anyone involved had actually watched a match before. Towns threw a punch that looked like he was swatting a mosquito in slow motion. If you want to see how the industry struggles to respect its own veterans, keep an eye on how wrestlers are forced to consider their own sanity after years of taking risks for meaningless segments like this. It’s hard to justify the sacrifice when the main event is effectively a glorified promotional opportunity for a luxury brand or a sports league.
Why the booking committee missed the mark
I am all for cross-pollination between sports. Put a wrestler on a talk show, let them throw out a first pitch at a game, or have them participate in a dunk contest. But keep the non-wrestlers out of the squared circle unless they have actually put in the work at the Performance Center. Professional wrestling is a specialized skill. It requires timing, spatial awareness, and a level of trust that you don't build in a thirty-minute rehearsal session before the cameras roll.
This isn't about being an elitist; it's about the sanctity of the show. Every time we let a celebrity walk through that curtain and look competent against a roster talent, we devalue the athleticism of the actual performers. If Towns takes down a talent with a clothesline, does that make the talent look weak? Or does it just make the whole thing look like a scripted reality show rather than a competitive exhibition? We deserve better than these half-baked encounters that serve nobody.
The reality is that WWE has reached a level of production value where they don't need a crutch like a celebrity guest to manufacture excitement. The roster is deeper and more talented than it has been in two decades, yet we are still prioritizing the 'moment' over the match. It feels like 1999 all over again, only with better lighting and worse storytelling. We are at a 0 percent chance of gaining long-term fans through 'cool' guest stars who never show their faces again. It’s a temporary spike that burns out the goodwill of the hardcore audience.
Next time the office wants to put a celebrity in a match, just let them sit ringside. Let them hold a drink, cheer for the babyface, maybe take a harmless bump outside, but keep them away from the actual win-loss record. Wrestling is at its best when the stakes feel real and the participants are committed. When we start treating the ring like a playground for anyone with a Twitter following, we lose the thread of why we started watching in the first place. My patience for these 'mainstream moments' has officially hit 0. I want stories, I want psychology, and I want the people inside the ring to have a legitimate claim to being here.
