The wrestling world is a constant puzzle of 'shoot' versus 'work,' but sometimes the real drama isn't in the ring – it's in the commentary about who's working 'enough.' Trying to decipher whether an interaction is genuine ('shoot'), staged ('work'), or a blend of both ('worked-shoot') can be utterly exhausting for fans. Personally, I've found a simpler approach: I operate under the assumption that everything is a work. Even a 'shoot' eventually gets woven into the narrative, so I lean into that. If the day comes when communication breaks down in the ring and actual punches are thrown, then I might reconsider. But for now, it's all part of the show.
This brings me to the recent online spat between Rhea Ripley and Women's Champion Jade Cargill, who are set to face off at WrestleMania. Their social media exchange was quite something. During their back-and-forth, Chelsea Green and Piper Niven also chimed in. Niven, who is currently recovering from an injury, responded to Cargill's eagerness to give her 'some ring time' with a jab: "Yea maybe by the time you’re back from your many vacations I’ll finally be recovered."
Oh dear, another dig at a performer's reduced work schedule. Regardless of whether it's a work, a shoot, or something in between, I genuinely don't understand this type of complaint, even if it's intended for a storyline. 'Work-shaming'—criticizing someone for not working as much—reveals more about the person making the accusation than the coworker they're targeting.
Let's take a quick poll: How many of you would happily accept a significant pay raise if it meant working fewer days?
Consider this: the average person clocks in around 260 days a year. Now, imagine your boss offered to double your salary and cut your annual workload to just 40 days. You'd be foolish not to accept! Therefore, mocking someone for achieving a better work-life balance isn't a sign of toughness; it's simply bad math.
Furthermore, a reduced schedule doesn't diminish an athlete's value. Look at baseball: Randy Johnson, a starting pitcher, threw over 4,130 innings in his career. Mariano Rivera, a closer, pitched significantly less, with just 1,280 innings. Johnson earned approximately $176 million, while Rivera earned just over $169 million. Despite a substantial difference in workload, their career earnings were nearly identical, and both achieved Hall of Fame status. This illustrates a key point: if you're exceptionally skilled at your job, you don't need to be present all the time. Your impact is felt when it counts.
And this is the part most people miss: There's nothing to be ashamed of when you're highly effective and can achieve great results with less time. The only true embarrassment lies in being the one left struggling, complaining, and feeling overwhelmed, while someone else is handsomely rewarded for managing their workload more efficiently. Is it fair to criticize someone for finding a smarter way to work? Or should we admire their efficiency? Let me know your thoughts in the comments below!
