Brock Lesnar Is Still the Greatest

Look at Brock Lesnar, stumbling off the ropes like a boxer with a brain hemorrhage. The former MMA champ spent enough time getting punched in the head for real, that when a fake shot lands, he knows how to mimic the feeling. Lesnar is notorious for wrestling a "stiff" style—he forgoes soft landings and stomped punches for urgent forearms and suplexes that lift his opponents clean off their feet. But while he doles out real violence, he's also remarkably committed to selling the effects of the fake violence. After all, if he didn't act a little bit, could anyone believe he was vulnerable?

Lesnar is the best professional wrestler in the world. There's no one more believable at hitting people, and at pretending to be hit. When he takes a beating, his whole body gets splotched and sweaty, and he begins drooling like a dog in the summertime. He talks as much as he needs to, which is very little, given that he has Paul Heyman, who's one of the best speakers in wrestling history, in his corner. (Lesnar does scream sometimes, and his voice cracks to an endearing and very human pinched yelp.) Even with a tiny post-MMA paunch, his body looks like it was 3-D modeled off an Incredible Hulk doll.

And that face. Man, he knows how to look like an asshole. When Lesnar upended expectations by defeating the Undertaker at last year's WrestleMania, he let out this smug, relieved laugh as he slumped in the corner—the mirthless chuckle of a serial killer who was just acquitted.

So as fans booed the ascendence of Roman Reigns, a long-haired male model who has no charisma to speak of despite being actually, literally related to the Rock, it was partly because they couldn't believe this jamoke was the guy about to out-Lesnar Lesnar.

Being the best professional wrestler in the world is a strange honor, given that Lesnar was once paid to actually throttle people to an inch of their life. As far as masculinity goes, it's the difference between being a trucker and winning an Oscar for playing a trucker. But as Lesnar told ESPN's Michelle Beadle after officially retiring from MMA this past week: "I'm an entertainer." He also said he was a "smarter caveman"—recognition that when you have a wife and kids, and are brushing up against 40 years old, you don't have to prove your toughness by almost getting murdered in the octagon several times a year.

Besides: His presence, sparse as it is, is WWE's most potent currency. This is surely why Vince McMahon made him a reportedly preposterous financial offer to come back to the sport. Throw Lesnar into any match, against any opponent, and there's your main event. Sometimes my friends and I text each other hypothetical wrestling plots, which is fun if not a little sad—we're basically creating the storyline that least insults our intelligence, so that we know at least tried when the real product ends up being disappointing. It's impossible to do with Lesnar, though. He doesn't need any fantasy booking—he is the storyline.

On Sunday, after Lesnar and Reigns pounded at each other in the Wrestlemania main event, another heel named Seth Rollins appeared to cash in what's called a Money in the Bank contract and steal the title. Essentially, Rollins got the belt without fighting and Lesnar lost it without losing. We were ecstatic. The champ wasn't pinned. His status as the sport's video game final boss was intact. His aura of invincibility remains.

Eventually, there might be an opponent credible enough to beat him clean. Until then, Lesnar can sit confident on his pile of cash, knowing that if the powers that be want him to lose to some scrub, the fans will riot. He may no longer be the champion, but he's still the best.