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Photography Is a Fake Sport

Female pro wrestler Aliss Ink The Scandinavian Dragon (Sweden) doing the famous 619 move on England's Heidi Katrina in 2025. In the article "Photography Is a Fake Sport," Marko Simonen explores the physical peril and high-stakes athleticism required to photograph professional wrestling from the ringside. He dismantles the notion that the person behind the lens is a passive observer, instead positioning the photographer as a participant in the "controlled chaos" of the event. His perspective is deeply rooted in his history as a creative professional and a former pro wrestler and referee. This background gives him a "sixth sense" for the geometry of the ring, allowing him to anticipate moves before they happen. The narrative centers on the physical consequences of pursuing the perfect, dynamic shot. Marko describes a personal philosophy of "getting close," a drive that often places his head and equipment directly in the trajectory of high-flying maneuvers. He recounts several "close calls" and literal hits, such as taking a boot to the skull during a modified forward roll or having a hat kicked off by a "619" kick. These moments are not merely occupational hazards; they are the price of admission for an artist who refuses to settle for safe, distant angles. His creative ambition often overrides his instinct for self-preservation, leading to a gritty, hands-on style of documentation that mirrors the intensity of the professional wrestlers themselves. Marko’s background as a referee and wrestler provides a layer of professional irony to these mishaps. He understands the mechanics of "the Miz-line" or a TLC match, yet he describes the humbling experience of being caught out of position. He highlights the necessity of "doing one's homework" on visiting talent to avoid becoming an accidental part of the choreography. Ultimately, the piece serves as a reminder that capturing the "fake" sport of professional wrestling requires a very real level of physical commitment. Marko argues that the photographer’s role is a blend of artistic vision and awareness. By merging his ring-tested reflexes with his dedication to wrestling photography, he demonstrates that the most compelling pro wrestling images are often forged in the danger zone. For Marko, the bruises and near-misses are simply part of the narrative, proving that the story of a wrestling match is told as much by the sweat on the lens as the action on the canvas.

I recall a couple of occasions when a visiting photographer, unfamiliar with pro wrestling, quite literally got squashed like a bug when a wrestler suddenly came over the top rope. I’ve also had lots of close calls myself, and a few good hits.

My personal philosophy about pictures is that I always want to get close. Maybe it’s arrogance, ambition, or overconfidence, call it what you will, but instinctively it becomes a thing of pushing the envelope a bit, just to get some of those dynamic camera angles.

This doesn’t feel invasive with our local talents; they know how I work, and it’s easier to keep myself safe when I know what they do. But, being greedy about my camera angles hasn’t always played in my favour.

During a match between “Back Breaker” Dylan Broda and Big Mikk Vainula, I was reaching in under the bottom rope with my camera when Mikk was about to throw Dylan out of the ring. There was a stumble, it turned into a ‘modified forward roll’, and Dylan’s boot stomped right on the top of my head with full force.

It felt like the vertebrae in my neck got squashed, and I was feeling its effects for the rest of the night. That stupid little hard button on top of my baseball cap dug into my skull like a spike. Happy days.

There was also the time when I had not done my homework on “The Scandinavian Dragon” Aliss Ink, and her 619. Me being the dumbass, I came in close to get a shot of Mila Schmidt on the ropes, and my head was right in the trajectory of Aliss’ leg. She smacked the hat from my head a good 5 feet.

Luckily, it wasn’t anything that ruined her move, and it still looked great. Mostly, I felt embarrassed about it, and learned my lesson. Because the very next night we were in another town and, again, my thick head was in the wrong place at the wrong time. This time, I was quick to duck out of the way, and I can only imagine how funny it must have looked.

One particular move you might want to watch out for is known as the Miz-line. Northern Ireland’s athletic superman, Tucker, is one who likes to do it. If you’re by the corner post with your camera, you better be aware of what’s up. Even though I can react quickly, his foot bumped into the lens hood of my camera. That was a close call.

I’ve also had a couple of close encounters with a steel chair. The first time when I was still refereeing. We had to sneak in to the main entrance early, through the upstairs. The makeshift curtain was in the back corner of the ring, “The Rebel” StarBuck and I were there ahead of time. All of a sudden, a speeding steel chair flung through the curtains and missed us by a couple of feet. We looked at each other and knew we had just dodged a bullet.

Another time when shooting pictures, it might have been a TLC match many years ago. A folded steel chair fell on the side of the apron and bounced high speed straight towards me. Simply reacting to it, I was somehow able to block it with my forearm. The bigger risk could’ve been, however, if the chair had actually hit someone sitting in the front row. So, luckily, it was just me.

At ringside or not, I can have my moments. After a show one time, as I was carrying our camera gear to the car. Two camera bags on my back, a tripod around my neck, and two more bags in my hands. I tripped on my shoe laces like a fool, and it must have looked like a flawless Ric Flair face bump right on the street. Lucky for me and our gear, it was winter time, with some snow to soften my landing.

This time, not learning my lesson at all, I simply got up, grabbed the bags, and neglected to fix my laces. I managed two more steps and tripped again – exactly the same way as before. I fell down like a tree. I’m grateful nobody was there to have a laugh.

“If a photographer falls on the street and no one is around to hear it, does he make a sound?” Well, he does.

Stay safe!
Pro wrestling photography is not without its risks.

Photographing professional wrestling can have its dangers.