The shadow of AT&T Stadium is growing too long
Remember when a tribute spot meant something? Like a subtle nod to a mentor or a quiet callback to a classic feud from two decades ago? Lately, we are getting fed so much nostalgia that the actual current-day storylines are starting to feel like static noise. The latest trend of performers mimicking the Becky Lynch versus Bianca Belair bout from Wrestlemania 38 is a prime example of why we can’t have nice things.
It wasn’t a bad match. In fact, it was arguably the best thing on that card. But watching guys on the indie circuit—or even lower-card television talent—trying to recreate the specific spots from that night? It feels desperate. You are not mimicking a legendary encounter at the level of Savage and Steamboat. You are copying a match that is barely four years old. It makes the entire industry feel like a cover band that forgot how to write original songs.
The KOD vs. Manhandle Slam trap
I saw a clip the other day of two dudes on the independents trying to hit a synchronized spot where one goes for a finish, gets countered, and they scramble into a transition that looks suspiciously like what Belair and Lynch did in Arlington. It sucked the air out of the room. The crowd didn’t cheer; they stood there confused.
You are performers, not archivists. If you are going to pay tribute to a modern classic, at least have the decency to wait until the wrestlers involved are retired. When you recreate a match that happened when most of your audience can still find the full video on Peacock in three clicks, you are just admitting that you aren't as interesting as the people you are copying.
The booking problem behind the curtain
This isn't just about the wrestlers wanting to be cute. This screams of a lazy creative process. If agents and producers are telling these performers to weave these callbacks into their matches, they need to stop immediately. We saw TNA struggle with their own identity shifts recently, and as recent reports on their Thursday night shift proved, the audience can smell insecurity a mile away.
Wrestling operates on the currency of connection. When you mimic a moment that resonated for specific reasons—like the history Lynch and Belair had heading into 2022—you lose that emotional weight. It becomes a sterile technical exercise. That match at Wrestlemania 38 worked because of the build. It wasn't just moves. It was two women at the top of their game with massive stakes.
Originality is a lost art
There was a time when guys like Eddie Guerrero or Shawn Michaels would incorporate subtle limb work or ring psychology that was uniquely theirs. Now, everyone has the same moveset. Everyone has the same top-ten list of matches they treat like scripture. Even when someone like Effy disrupts a stale environment, like he did during his recent spectacle at the Horseshoe, people pay attention because it is different, loud, and authentic.
Why go back to the well of 2022? Go find a new way to tell a story through physical agony. If you are hitting a move because you think it looks cool on Twitter to mimic a viral gif from four years ago, you have already lost the match. The fans want to see you fight for your life, not cosplay as their favorite superstars from half a decade ago.
Stop trying to be the next Becky or Bianca. Be the first you. If you can’t look at your opponent and find a reason to hate them that doesn't involve referencing a match you watched on the WWE Network while eating pizza on your couch, you shouldn't be in the ring. The industry is currently moving toward a 15 percent increase in focus on spectacle over substance, and this nostalgia-baiting is the direct result of that rot.
The era of recreating Wrestlemania 38 needs to die. Let these performers have their moment and move on. If we keep looking backward, the only place this promotion is going to end up is in the bargain bin of wrestling memory, right next to the forgotten gimmicks of the early 2000s. Give me heat, give me violence, but for the love of everything holy, give me something I haven't already seen pinned to the top of a subreddit.