I grew up on wrestling. For me and millions of others, it was more than just sports. It morphed into a media circus, a circus of the absurd, and an incredible juggernaut of representation. To see talents like The Rock and Booker T tear up the ring, it was more than an entertainment experience, it was a cultural statement. It was a visible affirmation that Black men could be heroes, champions, and larger-than-life figures in a world that didn't always offer those opportunities.

What I didn’t expect was for the Wyatt Sicks debut on SmackDown to leave me gutted. It left a burning knot of frustration in my stomach. It was all undeniably mesmerizing, the horror film aesthetic absolutely present, but something essential seemed lacking. Where were the Black faces? Where was the missed opportunity to feature and elevate Black talent on and off-screen within this otherwise potentially game-changing narrative?

Wyatt Sicks: Where's the Representation?

Let's be blunt: the absence of Black wrestlers in the Wyatt Sicks stable is glaring. In 2024, after decades of Black athletes filling the rafters in and behind the scenes of professional wrestling, it seems like a purposeful omission. This is not a procedural nicety. We’re talking about a potential main event WrestleMania storyline here that would make one of these two a cornerstone of SmackDown for the coming months at least! And still, the people shown are mostly white. Why?

Some would say it’s just an artistic choice, that the plot demands the characters. But that's a cop-out. Wrestling succeeds when it’s acting at its peak as a microcosm of the world. It goes on to stitch together the most compelling narratives that defy traditions and center the most marginalized. The WWE has the platform and the resources to make conscious decisions about representation. Choosing not to actively include Black wrestlers in such a high-profile faction sends a message, whether intentional or not, that Black talent isn't central to their vision.

Think about the history. Consider the struggles of Black wrestlers to break through, to overcome stereotypes, to get the same opportunities as their white counterparts. Bobo Brazil was one of the first to fight tooth and nail against racism, even in the territories. At the same time, Ron Simmons was breaking the color barrier as the WCW World Heavyweight Champion. With every new generation, we perfect what was done before (all the while learning from what went wrong).

Untapped Potential, Lost Opportunities

Imagine the possibilities. Picture this Black wrestler, like maybe a rising star like AJ Ferrari or an underutilized veteran like Shad Gaspard being introduced into the Wyatt Sicks family. Consider the emotional gravity and nuance they might bring to the plot. Their films would explore concepts of foresight, corruption, redemption and the pursuit of self.

  • Increased Viewership: A Black wrestler in the Wyatt Sicks could draw in new viewers, particularly from the Black community, who are eager to see themselves represented on screen.
  • Expanded Story Arcs: The inclusion of a Black wrestler could open up new and compelling story arcs, exploring themes of race, identity, and belonging.
  • Merchandise Sales: A popular Black wrestler in the Wyatt Sicks would undoubtedly drive merchandise sales, benefiting both the performer and the company.

Instead, we get a group that, while visually striking, feels like a missed opportunity to truly reflect the diversity of the WWE roster and its fanbase. To up the ante, the author of the SmackDown review teased the Wyatts’ true colors. They call for unity while undermining it through their conduct. This irony is further underscored when you look at who makes up the group, themselves. How can you preach innovation and collaboration while systematically removing a large segment of your talent pool from consideration?

Hurting Black Viewers, WWE's History

This isn't just about representation for representation's sake. It's about the impact on Black viewers. What does that say when the only message they see is themselves constantly getting left out of other big storylines. Does it make them feel valued? Does it convince them to keep putting their talent and their dollars in the WWE’s backyard?

The WWE has an abysmal record of how they have portrayed Black wrestlers. Whether you enjoy the artform or not, there have been times of honest to goodness progress like Kofi Kingston’s win of the WWE Championship at WrestleMania 35. There have been missteps, cases of stereotypical portrayals and missed opportunities. The Wyatt Sicks case is an example that fits neatly into the latter category.

That’s why we, as fans, have a responsibility to stand up and hold the WWE accountable. Change doesn’t just happen, we can’t wait and let it be the status quo. We need to demand better. We need to make our voices heard. LGBTQI representation matters—tell WWE to embrace it! Black wrestlers are entitled to headline WrestleMania, just like we expect Sasha Banks or Bianca Belair to headline WrestleMania, and we will not settle for anything less.

It's time for change. WWE has to show more diversity going forward! Together we can — and should! — build a wrestling world that better embodies the one we live in. Share your thoughts. Let's make some noise. Let's make them listen.