List-making is one of the great cheap thrills in sports writing. Always has been. I loved it in my Bleacher Report days and I love it now. A good list is an argument with numbers attached. It is part confession, part provocation, part Saturday-night bar fight. It tells people what you believe, gives them something to argue and holler about, and, if it has any life in it at all, sends them back to the footage to prove you wrong.
That is the beauty of it. Not that it settles anything. That it stirs the pot.
That was the whole point of this exercise. Not to march up the hill with stone tablets and announce the final, indisputable truth about wrestling. This business is too sprawling, too weird, and too gloriously unruly for that.
The fun is in the hunt.
Putting this list together, encouraged by the great Elliott on Twitter, gave me an excuse to go wandering through old territories, old tapes, bad transfers in 240p, old masterpieces, and old names that have slipped out of the everyday conversation.
Memphis. All Japan. RINGS. Lucha. Joshi. New Japan. FMW. Famous classics and half-forgotten gems. The headliners everybody knows and the lunatics, craftsmen, and geniuses you only find when you start pulling on loose threads.
A list, if you do it right, is not a conclusion. It is a treasure map. Perhaps there is gold here for you on your fandom journey?
In the course of working through this project I learned a lot about wrestling—and even more about myself. What I found, or maybe just finally admitted to myself, is that I have a type. Or, I guess, types.
I like strong babyfaces. I like wrestlers who know how to suffer and make you feel it in your own bones. I like great technicians, the sly devils who can make an absurd enterprise look as natural as sunrise. I like people who push the form forward, who invent new wrinkles, new violence, new beauty, new ways of making a crowd hold its breath. I like wrestlers who test the edges of the craft without losing sight of the old magic trick at the heart of it.
Make it hurt. Make it matter. Make me believe.
The people on this list do not all arrive by the same road. Some are here because they could make one punch feel like a gunshot. Some because they could turn struggle into poetry. Some because they made wrestling feel less like performance and more like a desperate, dirty contest for survival.
Some are inventors. Some are sadists. Some are poets with cauliflower ears. Some are human car crashes who somehow found beauty in the wreckage. But all of them, in one way or another, understood the assignment. They could make the thing feel alive.
So no, this is not definitive. It is personal. It is biased. It is occasionally stubborn.
Good. It should be.
The point of a list is not to settle the matter once and for all. The point is to send you back to the tape with a better eye and sharper questions. Why do I love this wrestler and not that one? Why did one wrestler capture my heart for decades and another evaporate before the tape could even finish rewinding?
This list is my answer. Today, anyway.
Kiyoshi Tamura: A shoot-style master whose incredible speed, timing, and technical realism placed him at the apex of the hybrid wrestling movement.
Terry Funk: A legend across generations and continents who evolved from a classic technical NWA champion into a hardcore pioneer without losing an ounce of psychological depth. Equal parts silly and sadistic.
Genichiro Tenryu: Tenryu hit a man like he meant it and did not seem to care how his opponent felt about it. Somehow, miraculously, he only got better with age, working every notable name of the 1980s and 1990s and pinning most of them to the mat.
Ric Flair: “The Nature Boy” whose legendary conditioning and ability to elevate his opponents made him the definitive NWA World Champion. Frantic, frenetic, and slightly unhinged, there were many imitators over the years, but only one Ric Flair.
Stan Hansen: The definitive brawler whose stiff, unbridled aggression and devastating lariat made him a legend in both Japan and the United States. When Hansen hit a man, he stayed hit.
Jerry Lawler: The “King” of psychology who understood the power of a simple punch and the dramatic flow of a match better than almost anyone. Most fans know him now for commentary, but Lawler was an outrageously good worker as both a babyface and a heel.
Andre the Giant: The greatest special attraction in history, whose early-career mobility and late-career psychology remain unparalleled. His unique presence created unique opportunities, and the Frenchman almost never failed to make the most of them.
Volk Han: A Russian Sambo legend whose creative and realistic submission work in RINGS remains a high-water mark for hybrid wrestling. Arguably the greatest technician of his era, he became an incredible worker almost immediately despite having no background in professional wrestling.
Toshiaki Kawada: A master of physical grit and stiff strikes whose legendary rivalries defined the peak of All Japan. Equally at home in singles and tags, few worked an epic quite like Dangerous K.
Akira Hokuto: The “Dangerous Queen” of joshi who redefined emotional storytelling and physical sacrifice in the ring. Willing to risk it all, she could look like a daredevil or a demon depending on the night.
Nick Bockwinkel: A sophisticated champion whose technical brilliance and articulate promos made him the definitive standard-bearer for the AWA.
Bret Hart: “The Excellence of Execution,” whose commitment to logic and realism made him the premier storyteller of the 1990s. The favorite son of a wrestling dynasty, Hart’s influence is still felt every week on television.
Kenta Kobashi: A symbol of Burning Spirit whose physical intensity and emotional connection made him one of the most beloved workers in history. Come for the ultra-stiff strikes. Stay for the ludicrously beautiful moonsault.
Randy Savage: A meticulous perfectionist who combined high-flying innovation with high-drama storytelling and unmatched charisma.
Jumbo Tsuruta: A freakish natural athlete who combined Olympic-level pedigree with effortless power to become the ace of All Japan.
Eddie Guerrero: A creative genius who could work any style, from lucha to technical grappling, while maintaining an unmatched connection with the crowd.
Hulk Hogan: The most important draw in the history of the sport, whose mastery of crowd psychology and big-match structure defined an era.
Atsushi Onita: A psychological genius who transformed the deathmatch from a spectacle of violence into a deeply human, emotional narrative.
Rey Mysterio Jr.: The most influential high-flyer of all time, who proved that talent and creativity could overcome any size disadvantage. Together with his peers, Mysterio helped reinvent wrestling in America every Monday night on WCW Nitro.
Dump Matsumoto: The greatest villain in joshi history, whose terrifying presence and violent tactics made her the perfect antagonist for a generation.
Mayumi Ozaki: A master of reinvention who transitioned from a premier technician to the industry’s most enduring and sadistic heel anchor.
Fritz Von Erich: A powerhouse heel whose physical dominance and iron claw made him a terrifying and iconic force in the industry. The family became famous for tragedy, but the patriarch was telling gripping stories in the ring long before the world caught up to the name.
Mitsuharu Misawa: The “Emerald Warrior,” whose stoic dignity and flawless in-ring execution made him arguably the greatest worker of the 1990s.
Lou Thesz: The definitive world champion, whose legitimate wrestling background and technical mastery established the modern standard for professional wrestling.
Ricky Morton: The ultimate babyface in peril, whose selling and fire made him one of the most effective tag team workers in history. Few men have ever made an audience ache for the hot tag the way Morton could.
Antonio Inoki: The architect of Strong Style, who combined world-class technical skill with an unmatched aura of legitimacy. One of the great lunatics in a sport full of them.
Aja Kong: A powerhouse who combined terrifying physical intensity with an incredible ability to sell for smaller opponents.
Mariko Yoshida: A technical genius whose Arsion style prioritized intricate, realistic submission grappling above all else.
Steve Austin: The biggest star of the Attitude Era, who used a gritty, relentless brawling style to revitalize the entire industry.
Chigusa Nagayo: The most popular joshi wrestler ever, whose fire and emotional connection with fans sparked a national pop-culture phenomenon.
Vader: The most dominant super-heavyweight in history, combining massive size and strength with shocking athletic agility. A violent god who cared little for his opponent’s well-being.
Yoshiaki Fujiwara: The spiritual father of shoot-style, whose mastery of the armbar and grizzled realism made him one of wrestling’s strangest and most compelling craftsmen.
El Satánico: The definitive rudo maestro of CMLL, whose four decades of excellence made him the gold standard for Mexican heels.
Bull Nakano: A terrifying innovator who could work as a brutal monster or a high-flying technician with equal mastery.
Mick Foley: A psychological mastermind who used extreme physical risk and bruised humanity to tell some of wrestling’s most compelling stories. A maniac who sacrificed his body for art.
Bruno Sammartino: The quintessential ethnic hero, whose believable powerhouse style anchored the industry’s most important territory for two decades.
Giant Baba: A towering figure whose mastery of psychological storytelling and King’s Road booking made All Japan a global leader in quality.
Roddy Piper: A chaotic brawler whose mastery of the fight made every match feel like an unpredictable struggle. A rebel with a cause, Piper almost single-handedly carried WWF storylines through one of the promotion’s most explosive periods.
El Hijo del Santo: A technician who successfully carried the most famous name in lucha libre while carving out his own legacy of in-ring excellence.
Dusty Rhodes: “The American Dream,” whose incredible charisma and ability to command an audience made him a legendary draw and psychological master. One of the great talkers outside the ring, he had a knack for holding fans in the palm of his hand.
Riki Choshu: A revolutionary whose fast-paced style and aggressive offense forever changed the pace and intensity of New Japan Pro Wrestling.
Buddy Rogers: The original “Nature Boy,” who invented the flamboyant heel archetype while remaining a technically gifted pioneer.
Killer Kowalski: All elbows, angles, and ill will, Kowalski made awkwardness into an art and menace into a profession.
Carlos Colón: An elite babyface worker whose psychological mastery of peril and blood made him a legendary and convincing regional draw.
Kenny Omega: A high-octane athlete who redefined the modern main event with his blend of explosive movement and long-term storytelling. The Golden Lovers saga gave him room to explore emotional territory most wrestlers never even approach.
Tatsumi Fujinami: A pioneer of the New Japan junior style who successfully transitioned into a versatile and athletic heavyweight champion.
Ricky Steamboat: A sublime babyface craftsman whose impeccable timing, athletic grace, and emotional clarity made him one of the most universally compelling workers in wrestling history.
Shinya Hashimoto: One of the Three Musketeers, whose thunderous strikes and King of Destruction aura made him a massive draw for New Japan. After January 4, 1999, he somehow found a second act that was even stranger and more interesting than the first.
Kyoko Inoue: A charismatic babyface whose combination of speed and innovative offense made her a top star during the creative peak of AJW.
Terry Gordy: A powerhouse with surprising agility who anchored the Fabulous Freebirds and later became a dominant force in All Japan. Even with a career cut short, his place in wrestling history is secure.
Tiger Mask (Satoru Sayama): A true revolutionary who combined martial arts and high-flying innovation to change the trajectory of the business forever. A huge star, he walked away at his peak to help launch a new combat-sports world in Japan.
LA Park: A charismatic rudo who masterfully blends wild brawling with a deep understanding of traditional lucha libre psychology.
Megumi Kudo: The Princess of FMW, who combined technical grace with an incredible willingness to sacrifice her body in brutal deathmatches.
Dick Murdoch: A quintessential Southern brawler who could make a simple punch or elbow drop look like a fight-ending blow.
Akira Taue: An acquired taste because of the gangly frame and awkward posture, Taue was a master of timing who served as the indispensable glue of All Japan’s Four Pillars.
Kazuchika Okada: A modern-day master whose flawless execution and ability to structure epic-scale matches have set a new global standard.
Perro Aguayo: A high-sacrifice rudo-turned-técnico whose bloody intensity and legendary silla dive made him a master of the emotional, risk-heavy struggle.
Jack Brisco: A scientific marvel with an elite amateur background whose fluid pace and technical logic defined the NWA title standard of the 1970s.
Greg Valentine: A sour, merciless grinder who dragged opponents into slow, punishing fights and made every hold and strike feel like it came with bad intentions.
Jushin Liger: An international icon who blended high-flying innovation with rock-solid fundamentals to become the face of junior heavyweight wrestling.
Negro Casas: A timeless master of lucha libre whose unmatched timing, charisma, and command of both comedy and violence made him one of the most complete wrestlers in the world.
Lioness Asuka: One half of the Crush Gals, whose athletic prowess and hard-hitting offense were instrumental in the mid-1980s joshi explosion.
Bill Dundee: A nasty little Memphis genius whose fire, timing, and refusal to waste a moment made him one of the territory’s great ring mechanics.
Bob Backlund: A technical powerhouse whose NCAA pedigree and relentless stamina allowed him to carry the WWWF through its longest transitional era.
Chris Benoit: A relentless technician whose intensity and snug physical style made every movement in the ring feel urgent and real. His crimes remain inseparable from any honest accounting of his legacy.
Tsuyoshi Kohsaka: A RINGS standout whose legitimate judo and grappling skills allowed him to bridge wrestling and MMA with unusual ease. One of the most fluid and realistic workers ever, even while building a second career as a UFC title contender.
Yumiko Hotta: A physical cornerstone of the 1990s joshi explosion whose Marine Wolves pedigree and kick-heavy offense lent a gritty realism to AJW.
Devil Masami: A grim, heavy-handed ace whose control, cruelty, and ability to shift from brute force to cold precision made her one of joshi’s most formidable presences.
Kota Ibushi: A unique talent who oscillates between terrifyingly stiff strikes and reckless, gravity-defying aerial innovation.
Bison Kimura: A violent foil whose physicality, volatility, and willingness to turn a match ugly made her an essential force in joshi’s most combustible years.
Daisuke Ikeda: A snarling BattlArts standout whose crushing kicks, punishing grappling, and unshakable physical conviction made him a pure embodiment of fighting spirit.
Yuki Ishikawa: The founder of BattlArts, who carried the torch of hybrid wrestling through physical suffering and fighting spirit.
Dick Togo: A master craftsman of the junior heavyweight style whose technical precision and timing are virtually without flaw.
Dynamite Kansai: A stiff-kicking powerhouse whose physical presence and intensity made her a central figure in the joshi inter-promotional wars.
Bryan Danielson: An all-time elite technician who proved that pure work rate and in-ring intelligence could override almost any traditional mold.
Arn Anderson: The definitive wrestler’s wrestler, whose economy of motion and believable offense made him a technical gold standard.
William Regal: A master of British-style wrestling, whose technical complexity and physical grit made him a wrestler’s wrestler in the best sense.
Tully Blanchard: The definitive chicken-shit heel, whose technical soundness and timing made him a cornerstone of the Four Horsemen.
Yoshihiro Takayama: A towering warrior whose legendary toughness and insistance on brutal wars made him an iconic figure in both wrestling and MMA.
Barry Windham: A naturally gifted all-rounder whose rare blend of size, fluidity, and quiet authority made high-level wrestling look almost effortless.
Buddy Rose: A master of ring psychology who could generate massive heat while making every opponent look like a world-beater.
Jaguar Yokota: An in-ring pioneer who introduced a level of technical complexity and speed that revolutionized women’s wrestling in the 1980s.
Hans Schmidt: A blunt instrument in boots, Schmidt brought an ugly, believable violence to the postwar boom and made menace look simple.
Verne Gagne: A clean-cut mat idol whose smooth athleticism gave the AWA its house style, even as his instincts as a promoter later narrowed the world he helped build.
Blue Panther: A sublime technician whose intricate mat work, airtight logic, and quiet authority made him one of lucha libre’s purest and most respected craftsmen.
Jun Akiyama: The Fifth Pillar, who refined King’s Road with a cold technical precision and a devastating arsenal of suplexes.
The Rock: An electrifying megastar who understood that true charisma requires vulnerability. For all the arrogant catchphrases, he was a master of the glorious, absurd bump, willing to make every Stunner or Spear look like a fatal car crash just to elevate the drama.
Jon Moxley: A psychological brawler who brings a gritty, high-stakes reality to modern wrestling through his uninhibited intensity.
Dory Funk Jr.: A classic NWA world champion whose fundamental soundness and thinking man’s approach made him a universal technical standard.
Jerry Brisco: A fundamentally sound worker’s worker whose elite amateur pedigree and technical precision made him a cornerstone of tag and singles wrestling across the territories.
Akira Maeda: The visionary who bridged the gap between wrestling and combat sports, anchoring the entire shoot-style movement.
Manami Toyota: A whirlwind of energy and innovation whose stamina and aerial mastery produced a legendary run of match-of-the-year candidates.
Wahoo McDaniel: A legendary former football player whose stiff chops and authentically rugged presence made him the premier hard-hitting babyface of the territory era.
Great Sasuke: A visionary daredevil whose fearlessness and emotional intensity transformed junior heavyweight wrestling into something more dangerous and alive.
Nobuhiko Takada: The commercial face of shoot-style, whose legitimate aura and kicks helped turn UWF-i into a massive phenomenon.
Alexander Otsuka: A hybrid-wrestling ace whose grappling, awkward scrambles, and relentless sense of competitive strain made every moment of success feel hard-earned.
Sami Zayn: A master of vulnerability and momentum whose underdog fire and emotional intelligence made him one of the most compelling wrestlers of his generation.
Shawn Michaels: The Heartbreak Kid, whose athleticism and flair for the dramatic earned him a reputation as the premier big-match performer.
Mitsuhiro Matsunaga: A deathmatch extremist whose grotesque willingness to absorb punishment turned bodily destruction into a bleak and unforgettable form of spectacle.
Brock Lesnar: A freakish combination of amateur credentials and explosive power who brings an undeniable sense of danger to every match.
Jonathan Snowden is a long-time combat sports journalist. His books include Total MMA, Shooters and Shamrock: The World’s Most Dangerous Man. His work has appeared in USA Today, Bleacher Report, Fox Sports and The Ringer. Subscribe to this newsletter to keep up with his latest work.
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