Donald Trump’s not going anywhere. I know you don’t want to hear that, but he’s not.
If you don’t watch pro wrestling, you have no clue. But let me try to explain.
Pundits are still trying to wrap their heads around why Donald Trump got 74 million votes this time around.
Actually, they still can’t believe he was elected in the first place.
It’s simple, though. And it involves professional wrestling.
Lots of people have noted Donald Trump’s involvement in pro wrestling (he even headlined a WrestleMania!), and some have tried to divine meaning out of this. Their argument is that he really wanted to be Vince McMahon, the owner of World Wrestling Entertainment.
That’s only half right. But it’s mostly wrong.
Because at heart, I don’t think Trump wants to be Vince. He’s not a behind-the-scenes promoter, counting money and screwing his employees (although he’s quite good at it).
No, deep down, Donald Trump is performer. He doesn’t want to be a promoter, he wants to be a wrestler. But not just a wrestler, a very specific kind of wrestler.
Now here’s where we have to delve into a little wrestling terminology. Trump is not a babyface (good guy) or a heel (a bad guy), he’s a mix of the two.
Sometimes it’s called a “tweener.” It’s a type that’s been around for ages, but has never surfaced in politics until Trump did.
Trump isn’t Hulk Hogan, coming out to “I am a real American” and ripping off his shirt before bodyslamming the bad guy.
Trump is a heel, but he’s cool. He insults his opponents and it’s funny.
But more than that, he’s the bad guy who rubs it in our faces. He flaunts his wealth and status, but -- most importantly -- he’s entertaining about it.
Want proof? Re-watch the entire Republican primary debates in 2016. Hilarious. Even if you don’t like Trump, there was a perverse joy in watching him shred through the field and make mincemeat out of Jeb Bush, Marco Rubio and Ted Cruz — all soulless stooges who ran into a buzzsaw.
Of course, the best example of a cool heel is Ric Flair, one of greatest wrestlers of all time -- and a mainstay of pro wrestling for several decades.
And of course, more important than being a good wrestler, Ric Flair could cut great promos (aka on-air interviews).
Flair wasn’t the first heel to rub his status in our faces, but he was the best at it.
He’d tell you how much his suit cost. How much his jewelry cost. How much his house cost (and it was on the big side of town, he’d stress). Hell, he’d take off his lizard shoes and tell you that they cost more than whatever shithole you lived in.
He’d talk about all the women he was going to sleep with that night. About how he flew on jet airplanes. Oh and -- most important -- he was the champ.
He had swag before that was a thing. He was a blinged out celebrity before that was a thing.
Watch his promos and you’ll understand immediately why Trump got popular with voters. It wasn’t because they identified with him. It’s because they wanted to be him.
He was aspirational. He had -- or at least he projected -- a level of wealth that the fans wanted to have. Money. Women. Jets.
But most importantly, like Flair, Trump made absolutely no apologies for it. Yeah I’m rich, so what? Don’t you want to be rich too? Of course you do, this is America.
Trump isn’t the first celebrity who took his cues from pro wrestling. Muhammad Ali said repeatedly that he was a fan of cool heels like Gorgeous George.
But back then wrestling was considered blue collar trash. Fine for the rubes, but not for mainstream society.
Not anymore.
Trump kicked open the doors of the White House and brought pro wrestling with him. That’s why people love him. They might not be him, but he’s their champion.
His supporters will always give reasons why they love him, like, “He tells it like it is.”
Is some of “telling it like it is” racist? Of course.
But it’s also the freedom to rub what you’ve got in your enemies’ faces. To watch your team celebrate in the end zone. (Why do you think the NFL brought touchdown celebrations back? Because they’re fun.)
Back when Mitt Romney ran for president in 2012, he got it all wrong. He was ashamed of his familial wealth and he’d constantly try to explain it away.
I remember watching one of his speeches and thinking, “He should just say, ‘Yeah I’m rich, so what?’ They’d love that.”
Donald Trump implicitly understood that they’d love it. He understood that -- as a pro wrestler understands -- the number one goal is to get popular with the crowd. In wrestling parlance, that’s called “getting over.”
Trump is over now. And he’s always going to be over. That’s why no Republican will cross him, even now.
He’s not president anymore, but he’ll be president of the Republican party for the rest of his life.
Will we have more Trumps in the future? I’m sure a lot will try. Some already have. But it takes talent to cut a promo. To get over with the fans. To be a cool heel. Don’t hide your wealth, own it. Tell the fans how much your watch costs.
Trump -- whatever you think of him -- has that talent. He’s singular.
And will the Republicans be able to replace him? I doubt it. Politics is show biz. It’s wrestling. The most important thing is to get over with the fans.
And the thing about wrestling is, if you’re over, they’ll always bring you back.
Good way to think of Trump's popularity; however, by now, the majority of Americans seem to have grown weary of being clobbered with steel folding chairs.