Goldberg’s recent comments claiming he’s “still better than 99% of the WWE roster” have certainly sparked heated reactions across the wrestling world—and it’s not hard to see why. His remarks, dripping with bravado and nostalgia, seem to ignore the reality of the modern wrestling landscape and the incredible depth of talent currently active. While Goldberg’s legendary 176-0 streak and dominant WCW run etched his name into wrestling lore, his defiance of time, form, and fan perception borders on delusion for many observers.
Let’s address the elephant in the room: Goldberg is 58 years old. In a business that relies heavily on physical performance, timing, and ring psychology, that matters. Professional wrestling isn’t just about the big pops or signature moves—it’s about telling stories in the ring and keeping pace with an evolving product. WWE has never had a more athletically gifted and well-rounded roster, from Ricochet’s acrobatics to Gunther’s brutal precision, Seth Rollins’ consistency, or Cody Rhodes’ storytelling. To suggest that an aging part-timer could outperform “99%” of that talent pool, without stepping foot in the ring regularly for years, feels incredibly disrespectful—not just to the fans, but to the wrestlers who put in work every night on house shows, RAW, SmackDown, and pay-per-views.
Of course, Goldberg has a right to be confident. He carved out a niche that very few could replicate—a wrecking ball of intensity with unmatched presence in his heyday. But it’s one thing to be proud of your legacy; it’s another to cling to it as if time stood still. The industry has changed, and many fans feel that wrestling legends who overstay their welcome risk tarnishing the very legacy they built. Goldberg’s return matches in the 2020s, including outings against The Fiend, Drew McIntyre, and Bobby Lashley, received mixed reviews. Critics pointed out limited move sets, sluggish pacing, and an over-reliance on nostalgia rather than substance.
Then there’s the controversial matter of Bret Hart. Goldberg’s infamous kick in 1999 that led to Hart’s career-ending injury is a stain that continues to follow him. Hart has been vocal about the incident, and many fans haven’t forgotten it either. Goldberg’s refusal to accept full accountability over the years, paired with his recent braggadocio, only reignites resentment from those who see him as a symbol of style over substance.
As for the notion that he shouldn’t “have to stand in line” for a title shot—how out of touch can one be? The WWE, and wrestling at large, thrives on merit, momentum, and storytelling. It’s not 1998 anymore. If you want a title match, you earn it through compelling performances and fan engagement—not just because your entrance once shook the Georgia Dome.
Perhaps the harshest truth Goldberg must face is that fans have moved on. The industry is no longer designed to revolve around one unstoppable powerhouse. It’s built around athleticism, depth, and evolution. And if Goldberg can’t evolve with it, then maybe his final match should’ve come years ago.
Say what you want about Brock Lesnar, but at least when he returns, he delivers with physical credibility. If that had been Goldberg’s true farewell, it might’ve been best—for his legacy, and for the fans who once chanted his name.
