By Jim Nichols

The internet notes that Everly, Iowa, had a population of 575 in the 2020 census. Over the decades that has remained steady and is similar to the time when our family would venture on summer vacation to Aunt Bea and Uncle Bill’s farm outside Everly.

That farm was what one would envision as a true Midwest farm. The assortment of animals and crops was fascinating for young me. Also captivating was a tall television antenna pointing from their house into the sky. Long before “connected” television was invented, program reception was spotty and, especially in the country, an extended outdoor antenna was required.

Bea and Bill were fascinating and unusual people to a child. One particular item was Bea’s consumption of professional wrestling on television. Her favorite wrestler was Lou Thesz. He wore tight white shorts and always won the match even though he was seemingly being defeated soundly at first.

After Bea introduced me to professional wrestling, we began watching sometimes at our house. My father did note for me how the matches seemed “scripted” (a term I did not really understand), but they were certainly entertaining. Of particular fun were the “tag team” matches in which, usually, one of the good team’s wrestlers was being beaten badly and kept trying to retreat to his corner to “tag” his partner. Finally achieving this tag, his partner sprang over the ropes onto the mat and soundly defeated the wicked opponent. It was great and predictable.

In the 1980s several states attempted to subject professional wrestling to governance by the states’ athletic commission. That would have meant subjection to taxing regulations and meddling in their “sporting events.” To counter this movement, leaders of the World Wrestling Federation (WWF) testified before the lawmakers explaining why wrestling should not be governed as a sport. Before the Pennsylvania House of Representatives, a WWF leader said: “Unlike professional boxers, professional wrestlers are not competing in contests . . . Instead, like the skilled athletes you see in the circus or the Harlem Globetrotters, our athletes are well-conditioned professionals who . . . entertain people.” (Linda McMahon quoted in The Chronicle of Higher Education March 28, 2025).

The admission was that historically wrestling was a legitimate competition but now it is a performance. The public knows this and accepts it as entertainment. The wrestlers are going through expected motions; critics have referred to it as “choreographed tumbling.”

Accepting the legitimacy of entertainment, it is clearly necessary to distinguish between what is “performative” and what is legitimate. “I am not a doctor, but I play one on television” is a commercial we all understand. 

Do you worry, as do I, that there is a great deal of illusion around us that we accept as true but is, in fact, fake? What happens to us when we forget what is an illusion and what is real? Has the skill of being appropriately skeptical disappeared from our society? It is quite amazing that if some “truth” is repeated often enough, it becomes true—despite the fact that common sense, history, experience, and science say it is false.

Perhaps my view is related to my age. Author Frederick Buechner connected with me when he compared my eight-year-old self with my decades-older self. He noted that in both cases (young and old) there were many things I would like to do, but I am not up to them. So, I learn to play instead. At eight years old you do not have to prove yourself and at eighty you no longer have to prove yourself. You can just be you. You can sit on the sideline if you wish, and you can also get scared of what is ahead of you. Remembering to still be kind, you can say what you feel and be who you are.

To return to the wrestling connection, one of the advantages of getting older is that I am relieved of having to be a performer so much. I can now do my best to try to mimic what I believe God wants me to do and yet still back way off being concerned about what others think of me. I am not having some kind of performance for them.

Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospital chaplain