Why Anthony Bowens’ “Pride of Pro Wrestling” Gimmick Isn’t Getting Over with Fans

When Anthony Bowens debuted his "Pride of Pro Wrestling" persona in All Elite Wrestling (AEW), it seemed like a natural evolution. Bowens had become one of AEW's most visible LGBTQ+ stars, using his platform to champion inclusivity while maintaining the charisma and in-ring skill that helped make The Acclaimed one of the promotion's most popular acts. Yet as the "Pride of Pro Wrestling" gimmick has taken center stage in recent months, fan reaction has cooled. Once a reliable crowd favorite, Bowens now draws polite applause instead of raucous cheers. The problem isn't Bowen's talent or message; it's how AEW's creative presentation has framed it.

Authentic Representation, Forced Execution

Bowens' identity as a proud gay man has always been integral to his public persona, but earlier iterations of his character balanced that with athletic credibility, humor, and emotional honesty. In contrast, the "Pride of Pro Wrestling" gimmick feels overly branded—an identity reduced to a slogan rather than a lived experience. AEW markets the persona as a progressive statement, complete with rainbow gear, entrance graphics, and scripted references to representation. While the intent is noble, the execution has felt corporate, even condescending.

Fans respond to authenticity, not messaging that feels like a PR department designed it. When Bowen celebrates inclusivity in his promos but the creative direction lacks emotional depth or genuine struggle, it comes across as hollow. Compare this to when Bowens and Max Caster—the rap-spitting other half of The Acclaimed—organically built a connection with the audience through humor, underdog energy, and subtle nods to their individual identities—that version of Bowen was human. The new version feels like a brand ambassador.

The Disconnect Between Message and Momentum

Professional wrestling thrives on momentum—on stories that evolve through conflict and payoff. Bowens' current arc, however, lacks a compelling antagonist or meaningful narrative. The "Pride of Pro Wrestling" moniker positions him as a symbol, but symbols alone can't sustain a wrestling character. When WWE introduced similar identity-driven personas in the past—such as Darren Young's brief "Great Again" push—those characters faltered because they lacked a solid foundation in storytelling logic. Bowens faces the same issue: he has a message, but no story.

AEW has also failed to build around his strengths. Bowens is an expressive, athletic performer who connects best when the spotlight isn't forced upon him, but rather earned through his actions. During The Acclaimed's tag title run, Bowen's fiery comebacks and comic timing carried matches. Now, in singles segments emphasizing speeches over struggle, the energy falls flat. Wrestling fans are not rejecting Bowens' pride—they're rejecting creative stagnation.

Audience Perception and Gimmick Fatigue

Fans admire Bowens as a trailblazer. He has been transparent about his journey and vocal about representation in an industry that has historically marginalized queer performers. Yet the "Pride of Pro Wrestling" slogan risks oversimplifying that narrative into a one-note identity. Social media responses often show fans praising Bowens personally while criticizing AEW's booking. On Reddit threads and YouTube comments, fans describe the gimmick as "too performative," “underdeveloped," or "a marketing move rather than a movement."

In wrestling, the difference between representation and tokenization is razor-thin. Audiences can sense when a promotion uses social identity as a shortcut for character development. For example, when Sonny Kiss debuted with a flamboyant yet defiant style, reactions were mixed until Kiss showed vulnerability and intensity in feuds that emphasized respect and struggle. Bowens' arc could benefit from the same dimension—letting his pride manifest through conflict and perseverance rather than branding.

The Path Forward

Bowens doesn't need to abandon pride; he needs to reframe it. Fans will embrace "The Pride of Pro Wrestling" when it feels like a battle cry, not a marketing tagline. AEW could reposition the gimmick by giving Bowens a storyline that pits him against discrimination, hypocrisy, or even complacency within the industry. A feud that challenges how other wrestlers perceive him—as a competitor first, symbol second—would ground his message in wrestling logic.

Anthony Bowens remains one of AEW's most valuable stars: a skilled worker, articulate spokesperson, and genuine role model. But until "Pride of Pro Wrestling" becomes more than a catchphrase, fans will keep seeing the gimmick, not the man behind it. In an industry built on emotion and authenticity, that's the difference between getting booked and getting over.