.png)
Greatest Broadcasters | Roundtable
- PWMusings Collaboration
- 1 day ago
- 18 min read
Updated: 13 hours ago
Welcome to the #PWMRoundtable, a discussion where PWM contributors weigh in, this week on the greatest broadcasters in pro wrestling history, both at the desk and holding the interview mic. Roundtable conversations will range from the serious to the silly and from the latest controversy to questions from deep in wrestling history. Anything pro-wrestling related is fair game, the only limitations being that the debate remain friendly and that we bring some insight that makes it worth your time as a reader.
This week’s contributors are Sam B, Peter, and Sam P each giving us their take. This week, our moderator organizing it all (as well as writing a section) is Sergei.
A page of links to prior installments may be found here: #Roundtable
We'd love for this and any and all of our content to be the beginning of a conversation with our readers. To interact with any and all of our contributors please accept our invitation to join the Pro Wrestling Musings Community Discord.
The Broadcasters Roundtable
moderated by Sergei.
Here at Pro Wrestling Musings we talk a lot about the performers and performances that make a pro wrestling show. For example, in #AEWeekly we talk about the most noteworthy Match, Interview, Story Beat & Moment of each week's All Elite programming and the performers who create those performances, along with an overall MVP. But that perspective tends to put all the focus on the wrestlers and managers and give short shrift to some hard-working and ever-present performers who are arguably at least as important to creating a great show: the broadcast team.
The job of the broadcasters is usually to fade into the background, and yet… in retrospect, who is the real star of a wrestling show? Take the Rock 'n' Wrestling era – obviously Hulk Hogan was the star of the show, and yet who was all over almost every segment? Mean Gene Okerlund. Or (for better AND worse) Good Ol' JR and the King were the voice and soundtrack of the Attitude Era.
So, for this week's Roundtable, we are going to make up for some of that benign neglect and talk about some of our all-time favorite broadcasters: the play-by-play announcers who call the action, the color commentators who help put that into context, and the interviewers with the thankless job of acting as mic stand for the performers. Let's get into it!
Who was the Greatest (or at least your favorite) Play-by-Play Announcer?
Jim Ross
by Sam B.
For so many wrestling fans, when they think of pro wrestling, they hear Jim Ross. He is a play-by-play announcer who could do it all: call moves like lightning, convey the story the wrestlers were telling, bring additional emotion to the match, and wrap all of it in an intangible aura of integrity and authenticity.
Even before his most well-known run in the WWF through the Attitude Era, Ross was one of the best to ever do it, calling matches throughout the ’80s and early ’90s for Mid-South, where he stayed as it evolved into Jim Crockett Promotions and eventually WCW, before jumping to the WWF in the early ’90s.
A lifelong wrestling fan brought into the business under the iron hand of Bill Watts, Ross has always taken what happens in the ring with the utmost investment in the drama in front of him, calling it as he saw and felt it. This passion and dedication to sincerity meant that when Ross was full-throated, putting his foot to the floor, no one could match how he elevated the drama.
All that distilled into the countless times he matched the perfect tone, with the perfect tone of phrase. Think Mick Foley’s, “As God is my witness, he’s broken in half!” How you willed Jeff Hardy up that ladder, “Climb the ladder kid - make yourself famous!” How you felt “that son-of-a-bitch!” like a gunshot to your chest. Or how he matched the energy of the exploding crowd when Stone Cold made a run to the ring.
Even in his later years, he has still had some signature moments of levity and sincerity that few others could touch. The one that immediately springs to mind is his incredibly touching call of Dustin vs. Cody Rhodes: two men he had known as children, now grown up and bleeding together. There have been times when he has rightly been criticised for not moving with the times. However, I don’t know if we would have got the greatness we did for so long from someone who didn’t hold authenticity and the integrity of his craft as core attributes.
Jim Ross: the voice of wrestling.
Joey Styles
by Sam P.
When drifting your eye over the wrestling landscape of the last thirty years, when it comes to wrestling commentary, one change that has become prominent is the regularity of a three-person commentary team. Whether on WWE Raw or WWE Smackdown, usually with Michael Cole and a version of Corey Grace or Pat McAfee and a third, AEW’s habit of Excalibur in lead with two in support, or even at times in NJPW, the preference seemed to be for a minimum of two, more likely three individuals on the announce table.
This isn’t something just modern companies do, WCW Monday Nitro during the 97-99 period was renowned for having a three-person booth, often Tony Schiavone in lead, Bobby ‘The Brain’ Heenan and Larry Zbyszko alternating for colour commentary, and a Mike Tenay-esque figure for play-by-play. The reason for the usage of a three-person booth seemed designed to have specialist set roles, the first as a play-by-play / lead announcer to push the stories in and outside the ring, a colour commentator to provide support, to bounce off of the lead and provide unique perspectives / heelish thoughts on the story, and a third will often be a former or current wrestler to give context to certain moves or actions. When done well, a three-person booth can provide flexibility, chemistry, and a wealth of knowledge that serve the overall story, the action in the ring, and help connect the two.
Even without a three-person team, a two-person team is often considered the minimum requirement in order to successfully support the show. And it’s in that context, I want to bring attention to the underappreciated career of one Joey Styles. Arguably as instrumental to ECW’s success as Paul Heyman himself, for many, Joey is the voice of ECW. For seven years, he was the solo narrator / commentator for ECW Hardcore TV, at a time when it was voted the Best Weekly Television Show three years in a row by Wrestling Observer (94, 95 and 96). From 93-99, he was predominantly the solo commentator for all ECW PPVs, entrusted to lead the entire show single-handed over a three hour period at a time when ECW was threatening to go national. And during that three year period of 94-96, he was voted the Best Television Announcer by Wrestling Observer voters.
What made Joey that good was his range of talent. He was consistent and reliable through the 8 years, his play-by-play was extensive in knowledge, demonstrating his research into Japanese and Mexican wrestling, breaking down the moves being utilised, all with an initial calm, measured tone that could match pace with the action. On top of that, he was a fantastic storyteller, able to balance a respectful approach of giving complete focus to the action occurring in front of him whilst laying the groundwork for the ongoing storylines through the event or even other shows. His reactions could be large and demanding, to match the occurrences in the ring. He was more than a commentator, he was an orator who helped weave the story the wrestlers and Heyman were crafting, without distracting or making himself the center of attention.
Joey’s biggest curse might be a mixture of not only having accomplished this on a relatively smaller network in ECW, thereby negating the masses at large getting to appreciate his talent, but also the fact he made it look ridiculously easy, a cherry pick of the great skills of legends such as Lance Russell, or Jim Ross. But if you watch the video below, you’ll see how vital he was for many of ECW’s greatest moments, and to truly appreciate, next time you watch a show, try doing all the commentary, storytelling and play-by-play by yourself. You’ll quickly realise what a difficult task it was, and how much more impressed you should be with “The Voice of ECW”.
Excalibur
by Sergei.
“It's Wednesday night! And you know what that means!” is the cry from the familiar voice of Excalibur that kicks off the AEW Dynamite program every week for over six years now. To many fans, he was already the familiar face and voice of Pro Wrestling Guerilla long before All Elite, but for others who encountered him for the first time watching that first All In or the first episode of Dynamite, the immediate question was: who is this guy and why is he wearing a wrestling mask with a business suit?
The answer is revealing in its simplicity. He wears a suit because he's an announcer and announcers wear suits. He wears a mask because he was a masked wrestler and the tradition is that they don't take off the mask unless they lose a lucha apuesta. Had Excalibur ever competed in a “Mask vs.” match when he was an active competitor? No, but that also meant he had never lost one. And that gets to the core of Excalibur's appeal: he takes kayfabe seriously (in other words, he takes storytelling seriously) but he doesn't take himself seriously, which makes him the perfect chemistry counterpoint to his hilarious but sometimes prickly broadcast partner, Taz.
From Day One, Excalibur has been the calm, knowledgeable, and affable core of AEW programming, and that's enough to count him as one of the greats at the announce desk. But he's also a person who is deeply relatable – someone who seems to see himself as just a very lucky wrestling fan with a truly excellent reserved seat. As he said just this week in reaction to the stunning and emotional Mistico entrance at Grand Slam in Arena México: “sometimes you got to just take a moment and realize we've got the coolest job in the world.”
But maybe the biggest reason that Excalibur is my #1 guy is his staunch ally-hood. A couple months ago, he quoted another very normal weirdo David Lynch for a special Pride Month sign-off to Dynamite: “fix your hearts or die!”
Who was the Greatest (or at least your favorite) Color Commentator?
Chris Charlton
by Sam B.
So often the position of colour commentator has been called on to be the base level emotion of the broadcast. The lowest common denomination of base desire, effort and thought, think Jerry Lawler screaming “PUPPIES”, JBL telling us for the twenty thousandth time how Randy Orton was what you'd get if you created a pro wrestler in a lab or whatever the fuck it is Booker T is trying to grunt in NXT.
That man could never be Chris Charlton.
An author who started working for New Japan Pro Wrestling as a translator, he penned one of the most complete tributes to Japanese wrestling in his tomb The Big Egg and moved over to the country because of how much he loved the culture. To put it straight, Charlton is the kind of pointy eared, wet, nerd that guys like JBL would mercilessly try to bully out of the industry. However he is also the kind of nerd that spends hours thinking of the most epic way to tell a wrestler's story, working out how he can best convey all the history, stakes and emotion present in a match. Where the most prominent colour commentators of this generation drag things down and remind us this is all fake so we may as well have a laugh, Charlton seeks to elevate wrestling into epic moments etched in history.
You only need to hear how he called Hiroshi Tanahashi's G1 win in 2018, Tetsuya Naito's entrance to the Dome at Wrestle Kingdom 14 or even the controversial spice he added to the Kenny Omega v Gabe Kidd match to understand how his knowledge and passion for wrestling elevates even the best wrestling. While he doesn't have a conventional voice for broadcast and he was tentative when he first sat in the chair, (probably even by his own admission) he has taken the job of NJPW colour commentator and not only made it his own but transformed himself into the best colour commentator I have ever had the pleasure of listening to.
Paul Heyman
by Sam P.
At the risk of possibly making many enemies and antagonising my colleagues, a majority of the time I cannot stand colour commentators. Individuals like Jerry ‘The King’ Lawler, Pat McAfee, Joel Gertner, Mark Madden – so many of them find me wanting to stab pencils in my eyes or turn off the television, and sometimes it’s 50-50 which one is my preference. My frustration is often that they are relatively redundant and one dimensional, (Lawler especially, and Gertner) or I find the individual absolutely horrendous and the equivalent of an irritable haemorrhoid (Madden, McAfee). But even worse than that is when they and the lead commentator are friends, so they seem too relaxed and smug with one another (Lawer and JR from ‘01 onwards especially, or Richard Keys and Andy Gray for non-wrestling examples).
So imagine what a breath of fresh air it felt, when Paul Heyman suddenly appeared on an episode of WWE Raw in the run up to WrestleMania X-7. Suddenly, JR was no longer leaning back, chilling with a colleague, able to take it easy. Instead, they had a volatile, opinionated genius who was renowned for being one of the best speakers in the business. Whereas previously the heel commentator had cheered on the villains as an expectation, Heyman did it because he was perverted and twisted, enjoying the violence and a suck-up to the bosses. Instead of just random interjects of “puppies”, Heyman was accentuating positives and hiding negatives, helping build stars.
From March ‘01 to November ‘01, that eight month period was less of a refresh and more of an IV straight into the audience’s bloodstream, bringing energy, chemistry, and an edge to a show that at times threatened to stagnate. In fact, Jim Ross – who admitted to hating Heyman with a passion before and during that period – was seemingly at his most inspired, his legitimate frustrations pushing him out of his comfort zone, along with his refusal to be shown up. Even though this coincided with the WCW / ECW Alliance Invasion, one of the most disappointing storyline arcs in WWE history, it actually featured possibly its strongest commentary team of the entire decade, a team that perfectly encapsulated the vitriol and desperation of both sides of the war.
And yes, I appreciate some will question my choice of a commentator who was featured, predominantly, over only an 8 month period – but maybe it’s because during that brief period, for me, the commentary team never burned so bright, and as the decades have passed, I have found myself reminiscing about it more. Because Heyman didn’t just rock up to the table and acted like he belonged, he made his colleague have to reprove himself as being his equal, and you never saw two commentators so impassioned to prove themselves the best.
Taz
by Sergei.
Taz – TAFKA (the legally distinct!) “Tazz” during his WWE years – is my favorite color commentator because he is maybe the most fully realized and thought-out character in any broadcast booth he's in. Admittedly, some of that is undoubtedly just Taz being Taz, but I would argue that he is deeply underrated because a lot of what he does is designed to seem unintentional – but isn't at all. And that rich character he portrays works incredibly well both for highlighting and deepening the context of the action on the screen and for developing chemistry and bringing out the best in broadcast partners – from the already-great (Excalibur) to the somewhat mediocre (Michael Cole, imho.)
You see, Taz has a very common story for a wrestling color guy – like many of them, (but notably, not the other two picked as favorites in this Roundtable) commentary was a second career for the man known as the Human Suplex Machine. Taz was forced to retire from the ring in 2002 due to the lingering effects of a devastating neck injury he'd been working through since 1995. And when I say that the commentator Taz is a thoughtfully realized character, I'm referring to all of the ways that he plays into being a meathead athlete struggling to make words his livelihood. Taz makes an art of malapropisms to a greater degree than anyone since Mrs. Malaprop. And it fits his character perfectly – the man who had always been silent and violent and let a manager speak for him suddenly finds himself needing to develop his vocabulary, so he gets a word-of-the-day calendar… Except for some reason, every day is the same word of the day for Taz. Plethora.
My God, the way that man has abused that word over the years! For any reader who perhaps only knows that word from Taz's overuse, “plethora” can be used to mean “a large amount” of something, but its more common usage is to express “a wide array of options.” But for my favorite color-man, any large amount or big thing is a “plethora.” I don't believe I've ever watched two hours of wrestling with Tazz at the desk that he didn't use the word at least once, and it makes me smile every time.
Another of Taz's characteristic constructions has an awesome story behind it that I've been looking for an excuse to tell since I learned it when researching the Learning Tree series. Taz will call anyone by a one-use-only joking nickname at the drop of a hat by combining some associated trait or situation they had just mentioned with the name “Jones”. If someone gets hit in the balls, they are “Yambag Jones,” etc. So, the story: proud New York City native Taz was trained to be a wrestler in 1987 by the legendary New York trainer Johnny Rodz. Over a decade earlier, the WWWF needed an enhancement talent to face Nikolai Volkoff on short notice due to a cancellation and called up Johnny. Rodz sent over a young man he had recently trained going by the name Roosevelt Jones. Afterward, the office complained to Rodz that his wrestler had been green, to which he replied: “what do you want? He was Special Delivery Jones!” and the name “SD Jones” stuck for the rest of his career.
Now, I don't know for a fact that Taz heard this story from Rodz and it tickled him so much that he ever since made subtle tribute to his trainer by calling everyone “fill-in-the-blank Jones.” But I choose to believe it!
Taz is an incredibly funny performer and his humor adds to every broadcast he's involved with, but that's not the only tool he has. Because within the story, he takes himself completely seriously and the humor is supposedly unintentional, which allows him to also fill the serious role of a color commentator: explaining the rationale behind what a competitor is doing – both the moves in the ring, and the motivation of the villainous characters. (I only wish the babyface announcers did as good a job taking up for their side!)
In Sam P’s section, he makes the point that entirely too many color commentators have been insufferable, and I would make the case that that's because they misunderstand their role as a heel commenter. Normally a heel’s number-one job is to garner heat – to get the fans mad at them. But that's so that the fans will pay to see them beat up! Which just doesn't apply to a broadcaster! Taz, contrariwise, is fantastic at calmly and rationally explaining the antagonist’s perspective while keeping the focus of the ire off of himself. A heatless heel would be the worst case in any other context, but it's perfect for Taz’s role.
By all rights there ought to be a supercut of Taz saying “plethora” and/or calling people “Jones,” but I can't find any such thing. But another great example of Taz's humor and amazing chemistry with broadcast partner Excalibur (honed in the early days of AEW on the C-show Dark) is when he cracks Ex up singing along to wrestlers' theme songs. Taz CANNOT sing, and it's wonderful:
Who was the Greatest (or at least your favorite) Interviewer?
Renee Paquette
by Sam B.
So far I’ve spoken a lot about seriousness and authenticity when discussing presenters, that is not what makes a great interviewer. Sure, they should take what they do seriously and they should still be authentic in their presentation, but they are far more part of the (often silly) world of wrestling kayfabe, as opposed to sitting slightly outside it as the commentators do.
As such the best interviewers are believable people but also characters in their own right, people with their own quirks and charms, different relationships with the wrestlers and believable reactions to what is said and how they are treated.
In my opinion, no one has done that better than Renee Paquette. As a base, Paquette may be the most charming person I’ve ever seen in wrestling. Combine that with a real sports-broadcasting background, plus she manages to convey so much in so little time – be it a sly smile, the odd quick turn of phrase in a question or rebuke of a heel… but always genuine concern on her face for what is happening and the wrestlers around her.
Even when working as an interview-bot for the WWE in the 2010s her personality still shone through but in AEW she has managed to elevate her game to be amongst the greats. Take her relationship with Orange Cassidy and the conglomeration, the dynamic of support and concern for Hangman Page, her constant air of disgust with MJF or the twinkle in her eyes that showed she knew exactly what Timeless Toni Storm was putting down.
Lance Russell
by Peter.
It’s hard to pigeon hole Lance Russell. Great commentators such as Jim Ross and Gordon Solie might have been able to conduct interviews in the studio wrestling format that had become the bread and butter of how territories up and down the USA presented professional wrestling but WCW and Florida would have been fine if someone else held the stick for interviews.
If we were to compile a Mt. Rushmore of pro wrestling interviewers, the majority of them didn’t make for great announcers. As much as I think Renee Pacquette is the last great interviewer, her time at the announcers table on RAW was disappointing.
When Mean Gene Okerlund put the headset on for MSG, Maple Leaf and Philly Spectrum shows and was the soundtrack for those shows, you did pine for Gorilla Monsoon.
But Lance Russell was the decathlete of wrestling broadcasters. He was a very good commentator who could explain what was happening in a big Jerry Lawler Mid-South Coliseum main event. He could interview a wrestler and help get over their actions. His dismay when a heel was being a heinous git has never been matched. The way he helped the fans watching understand the motives of a team who had returned to the territory and had a change of attitude is something that should be studied by today's broadcasters.
When Lance left Memphis to join WCW in 1989, he was greatly missed. As much as Corey Macklin was a laugh to listen to, he just wasn’t Lance. Dave Brown had a go at being the host and he was still the lovable Dave Brown who you sit down with and talk about life with but he wasn’t Lance Russell.
I mentioned in a previous paragraph that he had that ability to help the fans understand a wrestler's motives. The best example of that was in 1995 when back to Memphis after his four years in WCW where he had been part of a Murderers Row of wrestling broadcast joining the squad that included Jim Ross, Tony Schiavone and Jesse Ventura and therefore was never going to get the chances to lead a team on the No.1 show.
The Rock n’ Roll Express had come back to Memphis as part of the Smoky Mountain Wrestling vs USWA feud in ‘95. Coming in as heels, something that they rarely did in their peak. Lance in conversation with Dave Brown, talked about their PG-13 match and how Ricky Morton and Robet Gibson had got a case of “rabbit ears” when the fans were cheering for PG-13 and how it affected their egos.
His indignation at a heel trying to BS the fans or disrupt proceedings was something that only Lance can do.
Lance would also sell brilliantly. While his horrified reaction when Jose LeDuc took an ax to his own flesh to make a blood oath for a future match against Jerry Lawler might have simply been the Programme Director of the station that aired the CWA promotion that showcased wrestling at the 11am slot on Saturday morning reacting to a human maiming himself on morning television, Lance’s reaction makes the segment.
When a young wrestler came to Memphis and struggled on promos, Lance would hold the hand of that person and guide them through the promo.
Lance was the jovial host of Memphis wrestling on a Saturday morning and would be that comfort after a busy week of work/school. It made moments like Dream Machine manhandling him in 1981 and Bill Dundee slapping Lance in 1986 so visceral and made for great heel heat before a Mid South Coliseum main event.
All told, Lance is in my opinion, the greatest broadcaster in wrestling history. He is the one that should be studied by today's generation. He was the glue of one of the longest lasting territories in a system that was demolished by the WWF. Why was that? Because he was Lance Russell, one of a kind.
David Marquez
by Sergei.
Up until right before publication, I was planning to give this one to Mean Gene Okerlund, the interviewer at the core of 80s WWF programming. But at the last minute I decided to talk about a guy cast in a very similar mold who practiced his craft at a much smaller scale: Dave Marquez. Marquez was the interviewer at the core of the Championship Wrestling from Hollywood program and then later the NWA POWERR show.
The core of what an interviewer does is be the last sane man in the asylum, a surrogate in many ways for the audience. The old adage attributed to acting teacher Stella Adler is “acting is reacting” and that's exactly what makes a great interviewer, and Marquez (like Okerlund and Russell and, more recently, Paquette) is a master at this. His astonishment or amusement or anger makes everything the wrestler or manager says or does feel more real. Not less ridiculous, but like a ridiculous thing in the real world we live in, because we are seeing a real normal person reacting to it.
And I think that practicing a craft at the highest level for a somewhat smaller audience is something worth praising just as much as doing so on the superstar level. So much of what we call “success” is luck and coincidence, and there are so many amazing talents who are worth your time to seek out their work, and David Marquez is definitely an example of this – a worthy heir of great “human mic stands” like Russell or Okerlund.
Here's one of my favorite examples of the sort of natural and good humored reactions he'd bring to add to an anarchic segment: the fondly-remembered “shoes of a champion” promo:
Thank you, dear reader, for being a part of this journey of exploring what greatness means on the broadcaster side of pro wrestling. Follow Pro Wrestling Musings on BlueSky (or Twitter, I suppose) to get updates whenever we put out something new. Or for a weekly overview, you can subscribe to our weekly email newsletter.
We always appreciate your continued and ongoing interest. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be here! (Well, maybe we would – but nobody would know!!)
Comments