WWE’s LFG Is Their Best Wrestling Show, And It’s Not Even Close

I’m not here to bury RAW, SmackDown, NXT, AAA or Evolve. But let me drop a lil truth bomb on ya. WWE’s LFG (Legends & Future Greats) is the best show WWE’s got in 2025, and it’s not even close. This A&E reality series is a love letter to wrestling’s past, present, and future, and it’s got me hooked with it’s blend of in-ring action, promos, and behind-the-scenes drama.

I never liked Tough Enough. It sounds strange in the world of aggression and machismo, but Tough Enough felt mean. Maybe that was just Bill DeMott. But it felt like a place to hurt newcomers, not coach them.

LFG follows green but hungry talent like Jasper Troy, Tyra Mae Steele, and Shiloh Hill—battling for NXT contracts under the tutelage of Hall of Fame coaches like The Undertaker, Booker T, Mickie James, and Bubba Ray Dudley. But to me, it’s not just a competition; it’s pro wrestling re-invented. Seasoned pros, out of the ring thanks to Father Time, reignite old rivalries via proxies, and compete for the LFG Gold at the end of the Season. Every promo, every match-planning segment, every guest coach is a window into the blood, sweat, and creativity it takes to make it in WWE.

Before I proceed, I must address the elephant in the room after the end of season one. Booker T was robbed. Undertaker, as wise as he is, did not win that season with Tyra Mae Steele. Zena was the Female Winner—not Tyra Mae. You want proof? Watch her promo with AJ Styles. She turned Oxymoron into a catchphrase I didn’t think could work. She gave me Wade Barrett’s “Winds of Change Promo” vibes. Tatyanna was declared the Female Winner so that Undertaker could nab the final point to win.

I said it: Season One was booked to crown Taker as the first-ever champ, a feel-good moment for the Deadman’s legacy. But let’s keep it 100: Booker T, with Jasper Troy’s fire and his own coaching swagger, was the true winner. I’m calling Booker T the real champ here, and if you disagree with me, you are wrong.

LFG doesn’t just show you wrestling; it teaches you how it works. Take episode eight, where Sirena Linton, a former gymnast, wants to use the “Molly Go Round,” but first has to ask Molly Holly for permission. I loved that moment. I loved it so much I wanted that moment to be an entire episode. It wasn’t, but it showed me something I couldn’t get on any other wrestling program.

Or Shiloh Hill’s oft-cited blow-up promo that came from his real frustration after failing to step forward and answer CM Punk’s challenge (Jasper Troy did—and knocked it out of the friggin’ park). Shiloh’s ‘discovery’ felt real, and it couldn’t have come out on any other kind of wrestling show. We saw him fail to do a promo, then cut one hell of a promo.

But LFG is dangerously close to jumping the shark. I wanted new coaches in Season Two, but instead it’s a rematch of Season One. I’m a mark for the format, so I’m watching the second season, but with the return of Season One losers, I’m wondering if the WWE realizes what they have with the show.

To stay cutting edge, LFG needs new potential stars and new coaches who bring different points of view on the craft every season, not Shawn’s buddies hiring family for favors (I’m looking at you Undertaker and Michelle McCool—don’t ruin this for everyone else, please).

Here’s my dream crop of new coaches for Season Three. Not all of these need to be squeezed into one season either:

Gail Kim: TNA legend, seven-time Knockouts Champ, and a producer who’d bring insight with a fresh perspective. Also feels edgy because whaaaat if she says something about successfully working outside of WWE? My inner wrestling fan is seated and ready to eat.

William Regal: NXT’s godfather, a technical wizard whose promo masterclasses could unearth the next mic god. A watermark for international talent looking to establish themselves. I don’t think this needs anything more said, honestly. I’m surprised he wasn’t in Season One.

Rikishi: His school with Gangrel is a well-known stomping ground for West Coast talent, and he mirrors Booker T’s and Bully Ray’s legitimate background as mentors to students outside of the show. He’s well-versed in the byte-sized talking points required in our modern era (we all know his stance on his son’s booking because of this skill).

Kevin Nash: I love his podcast. He’s a slow, methodical talker, but every word is golden. His point of view on the business set the table for wrestlers of today’s age to eat. He doesn’t have a school, but like Undertaker proved, just being an established veteran comes with libraries of wisdom to pull from and imbue on younger talents.

Kurt Angle: The Gold-Standard Coach for any and all NIL athletes. He’s mastered wrestling, psychology, character, and comedy to an art. He knows what to do and what not to do. He’s a treasure trove of stories, wisdom, and practical advice for new signees. If anyone can relate to competitive athletes transitioning to pro wrestling, it’s him. If you disagree with this selection, just know I am staring at you like Kurt does in that one TikTok. You know the one.

Bret Hart: Teaching pro wrestling is in his blood. Literally. He’s a two time HOF-er, and the model most current superstars based their careers on. Plus, I get that extra tingly feeling seeing Bret and Shawn in the same space. Could I get a moment where Shawn advises one thing, then Bret takes students back and tells them to forget that and do the opposite. Again, I’m seated and hungry for this kind of storytelling.

If you haven’t watched LFG, I recommend it. It’s an easy watch, with no filler, and you can see the moment someone shows that they have It. I saw it with Jasper Troy, and I saw it with Zena. I hope you will see it, too.

To get my weekly column delivered to your inbox a day before it appears on NoDQ, drop me a line at aaronrights@gmail.com with Subject: “Add me to your newsletter please.”