Six figures for a prop is definitely a choice
So, someone out there just dropped a massive pile of money on the casket used in The Undertaker’s Boneyard Match. You remember the one, right? The 2020 cinematic masterpiece where Taker and AJ Styles spent an entire night running around a gravel pit in rural Florida while pretending it was a cemetery.
Reports indicate the final sale price was insane. We are talking about a six-figure amount for a piece of wood and velvet that someone presumably plans to park in their living room like a morbid oversized coffee table.
The absurdity of wrestling memorabilia
Collectors are a special breed. I understand wanting a match-worn shirt or a replica title belt, but a casket? That prop spent the better part of the production getting dragged through the dirt and tossed into the back of a hearse.
It is the kind of purchase that makes me question what we are doing as a society. Maybe the buyer really loves the 34-minute slog of a match where Taker rode a motorcycle into the sunset. Or maybe they just wanted the ultimate conversation piece for their next dinner party.
The Boneyard Match was a fever dream
Let's be real for a second. That match was the peak of pandemic-era WWE. It was weird, it was overproduced, and it relied heavily on cinematic cuts to hide the fact that nobody was actually bumping on a flat solid surface. Styles took a bump into a grave, and Taker stood over him with a shovel like he was clearing weeds on a Saturday morning.
It was peak wrestling camp. Yet, here we are five years later, and someone is treating that funeral equipment like it is the Holy Grail. It makes the recent auction market chatter feel like a total circus.
Why move the needle on this object?
Is it possible to have too much stuff? Taker is a legend, obviously. His career spanned decades, and he gave us actual 5-star classics like the Hell in a Cell with Mankind. But burying a prop under a mound of dirt for a cinematic segment is not the same as a title belt won at Madison Square Garden.
Booking these high-end auctions for prop items is smart business for WWE, but it displays a massive disconnect between the average fan and the whales who collect this junk. I hope the owner has a very large basement. If a ghost starts popping out of that thing, they better be prepared to work a program for $0 in front of an audience of zero.
The bottom line on big-ticket props
If you have that kind of disposable income, maybe buy a house or invest in index funds. Instead, this collector bought a heavy, dusty box. It is a win for the auction house and a bizarre flex for the buyer. Wrestling stays weird, and frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way.
