What are we doing here?
What are we doing here?
An introduction to Kanefabe, or, what do Bobby Roode and Greg Maddux have in common?
I just watched an episode of Ted Lasso with the following exchange between Coach Lasso and Coach Beard:
Lasso: You ever wonder why we're here, coach?
Beard: In London, or on Earth?
Lasso: Well both, I guess, but for the sake of this conversation, let's go with London.
I find myself pondering that question on multiple fronts myself: with my job, with my kids, with the state of the world, and with my writing. In these and so many other cases, I wonder: what are we doing here?
I can only answer the question in any meaningful way when it comes to this Substack and why I'm starting this project. And while I cannot necessarily answer any of the other big questions, for myself or anyone else, I'm happy to provide a space for people to connect and laugh and enjoy some stories.
Maybe that helps you better understand some big questions. Maybe that distracts you from those big questions altogether. I think that's all pretty valuable.
It should also be fun.
What is Kanefabe? It's a pun. For those who unfamiliar with the vocabulary of professional wrestling, "kayfabe" refers to the fictional world that each promotion creates and then presents as true. It often extends beyond the wrestling shows themselves.
Let's use Dwayne "the Rock" Johnson as an example of kayfabe, because as you'll learn in these pages in no time, I love talking about the Rock.
During the times when the Rock is an active wrestler, appearing on television and playing that character, he might give two interviews over the course of a week. If he appears as the Rock in one interview, talking in the third person and promising a beating for his opponent, that interview is "in kayfabe."
If he then gives an interview as Dwayne Johnson, movie star and dad, and talks about how he's having a lot of fun wrestling and performing as the Rock again, that interview is out of kayfabe. Or, as some self-serious folks in the industry might say, he "broke kayfabe" in that interview. Got it?
Anyway, my last name is Kane, so this Substack is called Kanefabe. My brother came up with the name, and he's unlikely to ever see this, but I do appreciate his permission to keep using the name.
Have you ever tried to come up with a name for a blog or a newsletter? It's the pits.
That discussion about this site's name also reminds me of one of my favorite quotes, from Kurt Vonnegut's Mother Night: "We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be."
After many years of watching the Rock, Stone Cold Steve Austin, and that generation of pro wrestlers, I did not consume any wrestling for many years. I didn't watch pro wrestling in college. I didn't follow it as a young adult.
My close friend Ryan and brother Thomas were my points of connection to that world. Our relationships ebbed and flowed over those years, they weren't watching wrestling either, and I ended up completely removed from that fandom.
This break from wrestling ended right around the time that those relationships came full circle and were central to my life again. Thomas watched wrestling again, so I started sampling some videos and learning about the characters and the shows. Ryan and I then went to a small live show, known in that world as a "house show," to continue my education.
I had never heard of Bobby Roode before that night. A wrestler known as "the Glorious One," Roode strutted out from behind the curtain to make his entrance. He wore a beard, an enviable head of hair, and a bedazzled robe.
All of this was topped off by some of the best entrance music in the history of professional wrestling (I stand by that claim, and should also note that the crowd at our show was much smaller than the crowd in this video clip):
Before Bobby Roode's entrance, that house show was fun but mostly quiet. There were scattered cheers, some boos here and there, and some uncomfortable "USA" chants from a certain corner of the crowd when an Indian wrestler was in the ring.
Roode's entrance changed the temperature of the room. Everyone watched. Everyone cheered. Once we all understood the simple words to his "Glorious Anthem," everyone sang.
It was so fun. For those few minutes, it was a shared experience. That's a small thing, but it's an important thing.
MLB Network will release its newest documentary this weekend: One of a Kind. It’s about Greg Maddux. The Hall of Fame pitcher is an interesting subject for many reasons:
He was known as “the professor,” both for his bespectacled and scrawny appearance and for his ability to outsmart hitters.
A man of many nicknames, he was also known as the "Mad Dog" because of how competitive he was.
He was a big presence in the locker room, known for his humor and practical jokes.
He dominated hitters in an era known for offense, with steroid use rampant and the home run central to the league's story.
In my life, Maddux is also a baseball player that brought people together.
As I write this, I can look up at a Hall of Fame cap with a stitched copy of Maddux's signature on the side, commemorating the weekend he was enshrined among the best players in baseball history.
I was there in Cooperstown that weekend. The trip was a gift from my mom. We watched the Cubs together when I was a kid. I don't remember this, but that includes Maddux's big league debut as a pitcher. I do remember watching him in subsequent years, alongside my other favorites on the team: Shawon Dunston, Mark Grace, and Andre Dawson.
I have a baseball signed by Andre Dawson on the shelf next to the Maddux Hall of Fame cap. My mom took me to get that, too.
I'm grateful to say that my relationship with my mom is built on love and support in many areas of my life. We don't just have Maddux or the other baseball players we like as common ground. But it's still meaningful to share experiences like that trip to the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown.
We got to appreciate Maddux. We also got to appreciate the memories of watching him together.
Ryan and I also bonded over how much we both liked Greg Maddux. Besides all of the reasons for his greatness that I already listed, we thought it was hilarious that Mad Dog was often the first one out of the dugout in the event of a bench clearing brawl.
There's mostly no way to predict which players or characters will become important to us. We often don't know when a moment is coming that will ultimately be memorable, something to bond over.
All we do know is how important those connections feel. They don't just happen in sports. The same things I am claiming about sports and pro wrestling can be said about literature, movies, hiking, gardening, mall walking, and so on. What matters is that these shared experiences are there and that they allow us to feel connected.
This one just happens to be about sports and pro wrestling. So, that's what we're doing here at Kanefabe. If you're asking that question about why we're here on Earth, I might not be much help. But hopefully I'll give you something fun to talk about while you keep trying to figure it out.
And that’s what I mean when I say this is about sports, but it’s not really about sports.
