“Truly, this is a book that belongs on the shelves of not just wrestling fans, but anyone who wants to understand the agonized American soul.” —Josephine Riesman, author of Vince McMahon and the Unmaking of America
Professional wrestling is both a cultural phenomenon and a multibillion-dollar industry that has launched some of the biggest names in entertainment. But what does it take for a wrestler to break through? In Rough House, journalist Alison Lyn Miller introduces Hunter James, an aspiring star born into a family of wrestlers in Georgia. Hunter lifts, runs, and pounds protein, sculpting himself into a human action figure with the goal of being signed by a major promotion and finishing what his father started. Miller’s immersive, unforgettable account shows us what happens when Hunter enters the bruising world of indie wrestling—where gymnasiums become arenas, trampolines serve as training grounds, and young men fight for glory.
Rich with drama, humor, and heart, Rough House is a ringside seat to a coming-of-age story that reveals the escapism, self-actualization, performance, and violence inherent in one of America’s most dismissed pastimes. Whether you’re a die-hard fan or new to the spectacle, this true story will leave you cheering for more.
Do you remember the movie "The Sandlot"? Ostensibly a baseball movie, it was really about growing up at a certain time, in a certain place, and making friendships. Baseball was there, but it wasn't the point.
I think the same applies to Alison Lyn Miller's Rough House. Yes, this book is set against the backdrop of indie professional wrestling. There is no required knowledge of wrestling required in the slightest. That is because Miller isn't telling the story of wrestling, but the story of a family and community in a certain place in time brought together by the sport. Um, well sports entertainment. (Side note: The hilarity of seeing wrestling moves written out in footnotes still has me giggling. Miller explains a DDT perfectly, it's just humorous to see it in print.)
The father is Billy Ray and the son is Hunter in the subtitle. There is friction but it is very temporary. Again, this is about how a father and son are so similar, but the father wanting a better life for his child may not be what the actual plan is. While they are the main characters, Miller turns her literary gaze on everyone and anyone who fills out the picture of Georgia indie wrestling. I especially appreciate Miller's willingness to let her characters be themselves. There are quotes in here that some people will cringe at, but it's part of showing what this insular world is like.
If you are a wrestling fan, you don't need my recommendation to pick this up. If you aren't, don't let the subject matter drive you away from this one. It's about a lot more than you think it is.
(This book was provided as a review copy by W. W. Norton & Company.)
They're country kids who spent their birthday money on WWE action figures and beat each other with metal chairs in the backyard, who know they can turn the TV on and see heroes who will never let them down.
When my boys were growing up, I always tried to share their interests . . . if possible. (I had no luck with Magic: the Gathering. There was no way I could Mulligan-Plainswalker-Didgeridoo it.)
Both of them were into professional wrestling for a while. That, well, I kind of enjoyed it. Well choreographed fight scenes where no one got (seriously) injured. Heroes (faces) and villains (heels), drama, humor, and trash talking. I was basically glued to the TV every Monday and Friday night. In addition to cheering for the sweaty hijinks, I just plain admired the athleticism of the participants. From amazing vertical jumps to corkscrew leaps from the top rope, I was impressed. I once saw a guy doing a handstand toss his opponent to the mat using just his thighs.
My youngest son was particularly taken with the "sport" which made gift buying very easy for a few years. (He still has a vast collection of New Day t-shirts.) Then one night he'd had enough of the celebrity matches featuring Bad Bunny and one of the annoying Paul brothers. He said, "I'm done with this," and turned the set off. (I wish I could say he picked up a book instead, but he didn't.)
Miller's book concentrates mainly on Hunter James, and his goal to make it where his father, Billy Ray, did not - the professional wrestling circuit. There's a poignant tag team match between father and son where the torch is essentially passed: Student becomes master. Son becomes caretaker.
She also offers a look at all the training, and planning that goes on behind the scenes. Miller does not shy away from the dark side, and all the tragedies caused by steroids, testosterone, and cocaine: professional wrestlers are three times more likely to die before the age of 54 than the average American male.
I sometimes miss the Smackdowns, and the Raws, and Wrestlemania, but honestly haven't been tempted to watch a match on my own. It seems like an experience that definitely needs to be shared.
***Thank you to the author, publisher and NetGalley for the ARC of this upcoming book*** Great books about what it takes to make it from the indies to the top of the industry are hard to come by, and this is surely one of them. As someone who went to school to be a pro wrestler at 16 and who has a friend who made it all the way from the indies to the WWE, this book scratched me right where I itch.
I had never heard of the wrestler (Hunter James) that the author spent the majority of her time with, but I will be scouring YouTube in the near future to see what the guy can do. This book is a must read for all pro wrestling fans out there!!
This is an interesting and well-written book about two generations of men in Georgia who have tried to make it in the world of professional* wrestling. I enjoyed this book as someone who grew up a massive fan of wrestling watching Wrestling at The Chase in St. Louis, World Class from Texas, AWA from the Upper Midwest, JCP and WCW on TBS, and even reluctantly the WWF. As a Vince McMahon hater I pretty much tuned out after he took over WCW, but I have occasionally attended indie shows and watched young men like Hunter. For his part, Hunter is so committed to wrestling that he can't wait to leave Italy, where he doesn't like the food ala Paulie Walnuts, so he can return to small town Georgia.
My only criticism of this book is the repeated use of the term "amateur wrestling" to refer to non-scripted youth, high school, collegiate, and international style, freestyle and Greco, wrestling. Wrestlers are now getting paid and competing professionally. Of course, this is also a linguistic problem, as the natural assumption is that a pro wrestler would be the elevated form of an amateur wrestler, when, the reality is, they are entirely two different things. And, as Gerry Brisco told me in a conversation last year, wrestling at Oklahoma State was substantially harder than anything he did in pro wrestling. Both require an extraordinary level of dedication and commitment and take a toll on the body.
One of the reasons I hated what Vince did for wrestling is guys went from looking like Harley Race, Nick Bockwinkel, Lou Thesz, and the likes of Bulldog Bob Brown to looking like Lex Luger and Hulk Hogan. We've seen the results of this and the negative impact of steroids. In this book, a young man, barely out of high school, gets on them because he sees this as increasing his chances of success.
Wrestling should be about the story and belief and be personality and character driven. I'm not sure how you do this after you break kayfabe and also don't want to test the boundaries of political correctness and social taboos, but these things can be achieved without looking like the Incredible Hulk.
I would recommend this book to anyone interested in the world of wrestling.
Wrestling is working-class entertainment. A bastion of hope for a people whose every day life can seem hopeless. This story follows a family entrenched in generations of the Georgia pro-wrestling subculture. The storytelling weaves chaotically through time and events highlighting both highs and lows in the independent wrestling scene and Hollywood Hunter James’ attempt at making it big. The stories were grounded and heartfelt. It’s 3 stars for a few reasons. First, the story jumps time and events that’s hard to follow at times. Second, if you don’t watch wrestling you won’t like it. It felt advertised like something you could get into if you don’t watch wrestling but it definitely gets into the weeds at some point. I think you can relate to the human experience more than anything. Third, I wish the author took all of her journaling and documenting and turned it into a fictional story. I felt like there were enough great story beats that would make a great fiction but at times it definitely felt like a journalism project.
This is a nonfiction account of wrestling. It features a father and son and their community near Atlanta, Georgia. I had never given wrestling any thought before reading this. It’s very well-written. It was fascinating to learn about how and why people care about wrestling. There were stories of why each person was drawn to wrestling as well as the stories they create in the ring. There are so many subcultures in our country. I’m glad to know about this one.
My thanks to NetGalley and W. W. Norton & Company for an advance copy of this book that offers a unique look at life in these United States, through the lives of a father and son, their hopes and dreams, the people around them, all set in the world of sports entertainment, better known as professional wrestling.
Besides my portly physique, bad eyesight and thinning hairline, I inherited my father two things that set us apart from most people in this country. A lack of interest in sports, and how people few success. Both my father and I could care less about what school a person went to, nor what they do. If they care to share it, fine. My father hated his job, and didn't like talking about it, why would anyone else. What my father and I cared about was if a person was happy. Are you doing something you like to do, be it reading, writing, watching, listening or creating. Happiness was my father's big thing, probably because like his son issues with depression were not far away. My father played football, but that along with interest in sports ended at graduation. I however always had, and still do to a certain extent an interest in Professional Wrestling. I think it is the physicality mixed with the fiction that I, a comic book reader enjoy. People call it fake, but only the outcomes are predetermined. The pain, the slams the aches, the career ending injuries are real. This is why I enjoyed this book far more than I thought. Rough House: A Father, a Son, and the Pursuit of Pro Wrestling Glory, by Alison Lyn Miller is a book about chasing a dream, about families, about fame, and making a name for oneself, even if one has to give up who they are.
Billy Ray is married, though they are having problems, with a son going off to college, though that might be changing also. Billy Ray has worked the independent professional wrestling scene for years, always dreaming about being called up to the big leagues, but mostly stuck in American Legion halls, bingo parlors and a musty old auditorium held together with mold, blood and sweat. Hunter James, is his son, with his own ideas about who he wants to be. And that is a successful pro wrestler, or sports entertainer as they are called in the Big Leagues of the WWE and AEW. Hunter has been training with some of his father's friends, and is ready to give up college for the adoration he is sure that will follow. Alison Lyn Miller follows these dreams, along with sharing stories about the impact that wrestling has in the South, featuring wrestlers who made it, A.J. Styles for one, many others who did not, and those who keep taking slams and chair shots, hoping to be found.
A book that speaks to a lot about families and dreams. And the idea that fame is just around the corner. I have followed a lot of wrestling, and know that fame is quick, and sometimes fades even quicker. However the hope to get out of a small town, to get money, and be adored is a strong draw. In wrestling they have cage matches, where the wrestlers are locked in to settle their feud. One can win by escaping the cage, climbing out over the fence, sneaking out, or even beating their opponent. However some find that cage to hard to climb, and find themselves pinned to the mat, looking at the lights. I won't share what happens here. This is one of the best books on both wrestling and what is going on in America I have read in awhile. Miller is a very good writer, and empathetic, even when the people being written about are not nice. One gets a real feel and understanding of the family, the wrestles and an understanding of the dream they share.
An very enjoyable and illuminating read. I love the descriptions of the moves and the language of wrestling that Miller puts in the footnotes. More importantly I loved the writing. A really impressive book, far more than I expected, and one I know I will be thinking about for quite awhile. I look forward to more works by Alison Lyn Miller.
That's a smart-aleck paraphrase of this book as a riff on Donald Hall, but it's not wrong: wrestling as familial glue, as heritage, as cultural binding, as community resource and celebration, as craft, as dream. Miller embedded with a family that could be from central casting--a dad who never made it to the big time and tried to steer his son away to a career in amateur wrestling that would get him a scholarship, and the son nonetheless decides early on that rasslin' is for him and that he's going to make it. We follow over four years as he, spoiler, has not yet made it, though he gets cups of coffee, or whatever the wrestling idiom for that is, with WWE and the slightly revived NWA, now owned as a vanity project by...Billy Corgan of the Smashing Pumpkins (did not see that one coming). (You can watch his matches, many of which seem to take place in high-school gyms, on YouTube.)
Interestingly, he's more often heel than face, which prompts some inside-kayfabe ruminations about how to best generate heat--though also everyone clearly likes him, even the fans who boo him, which raises complex questions about what exactly is getting dramatized and what kinds of disbelief are being suspended. Given where major promotions have gone over the past 30 years, which feels like has generally trended away from classic heel/face narrative tropes (though if it's more black-and-white than the 90s heyday of essentially every big star in WWE just being attitudinous, and then ruthlessly aggressive, not to mention the brief heyday of Val Venis, wrestling porn star, it seems to me that we're no longer dealing in Evil Foreigners or Primitive Savages or Weirdo Pervs, all the classics, in WWE or AEW), I wonder to what extent indie wrestling represents something different. If we look at this as an index of grassroots demand, is indie something like rural fundamentalist congregations that traffic in an unchecked, rigorous spirituality too clarified for big-time mainline churches? Or is this book to a degree missing the complexities in fan response?
The organization is a bit ramshackle for my taste--Miller trots out a theorization of wrestling as good-v-evil catharsis every few chapters, and we sometimes jangle off in unpredictable directions that follow the life story of a side character, or we start a chapter with a major-promotion anecdote that may or may not get us anywhere. (Also, there are quite a few typos, and--in a book from W.W. Norton, no less!--apparently nobody understands the difference between "lie" and "lay," which comes up with annoying frequency, this being a book about wrestling.)
There are definitely parts where I wish she'd dug further. The discussion of fathers and sons in the ring, for instance, just mentions Fritz von Erich and Ric Flair appearing alongside their progeny without noting the horrific, and well-known, physical and emotional toll that dream took on those particular kids, who were too small and not showy enough to appear in the ring. (In addition to the terribly sad von Erich movie, the Netflix doc on Flair is alarming: there's literally no self left [or always?] outside of the character. To be the man, you apparently don't need to be a man.)
All that said, there's something crucially warm, humane, and generous about this book, an essential and unfakeable respect for everyone in it as human being, artist, craftsman (she briefly mentions women wrestlers but doesn't interview or profile any; that feels like material for another full book), member of a family and community (there's a sweet story about the manager of our main focus, Hunter, who came out in his teens, married his husband in the ring, and is an openly gay heel manager on the small-town Georgia ciruit whose heelishness is not in any way narratively linked with his sexuality), dreamer, professional honing his practice, improviser....There's just so much texture here about these lives and this world, endless small-town gyms and VFW halls and barns and god knows what else where you put up poles and a mat and put on a show.
In that sense, there truly is something essentially American about the industry of wrestling (we've all read that Barthes article about archetypes, which duly gets cited), that fervent belief in self, that dramatization and exaltation of some aspect of your being (there's some play on Goffman's presentation of self in everyday life to be made there), and this book captures that with an accumulated force and empathy--I absolutely wouldn't claim to have read everything, but this is clearly one of the fullest and best visions of wrestling, and thus, as I've argued, America, from the bottom up that has been written.
As a casual wrestling fan, I found this an unexpectedly compelling read! I didn't know that Georgia was such a hotbed of budding superstars, but it makes perfect sense in context. We're introduced to quite a few wrestling families on the local scene, and although the main action is following the career of Hunter James, I feel much more familiar with a lot of the names and personalities of the other wrestlers on the scene now. The same people keep showing up over and over, as partners or foes in the ring, but always friends outside it. There's a real sense of the strong community that this sport has built. I think this book gave me a better appreciation for the wrestling community at the small town level. Before they make a splash in the big leagues, they have to come from somewhere, and a lot of them come from places and stories just like these! You can't help but root for Hunter, whether as a heel or a face, because you can see him putting in the work and showing up, time after time.
Performance art, mostly done by underpaid or otherwise employed people, covers a lot of ground. Professional wrestling is no exception. The hard work, small victories, hopes and dreams are covered in this story of a father and son who have shared wrestling's thrills and woes.
What also makes this story timely is the verbal jousting in and out of the ring. Our current news cycle is full of political speak that mirrors it. It's too bad that it can't just be kept in the ring.
Rough House the story of Georgia-born Hunter James trying to surpass the wrestling legacy of his father. Most of the book follows what is essentially the minor leagues of wrestling, where everyone dreams of making it in the WWE or AEW. That is not to say that there is athleticism either, but people get injured, some badly, and many become addicted to drugs, with mortality rates about five times the statistical averages. Yet, the good versus evil or David versus Goliath tropes entertain many across America. I recommend watching the 2019 film Fighting with My Family instead.
I’m a lifelong wrestling fan who reads a lot of wrestling books, but Rough House was the first time I picked up a story about a wrestler who wasn’t already on my radar. I really enjoyed learning about a young man with a deep passion for wrestling who never stopped chasing his dream, and I found myself finishing the book in just a few days because I wanted to know more about his life. Thanks to this book, Hunter has gained a new fan, and I’m excited to see where his future leads.
internally I'm like is this a 5 star book, but it's one of my favorite non fiction things I've read in years. I love wrestling, moreso the stories around wrestling than the actual product. this is a quick read, and is great for fans of all wrestling.
A fascinating, warm, poignant portrait of father and son, and of the culture of pro wrestling in Georgia. A great book for people who like sports, or wrestling, and especially for anyone who ever had a dream.
Alison Miller's "Rough House" belongs on the shelf of the great journalism immersing in oddball subcultures where the author treats them with the respect they deserve.
No one could be less of a pro wrestling fan than I am, however, I found this a fascinating book and reflective of a hidden piece of the American culture.