The wrestling business has always been notorious for its “adapt or get left behind” mentality, but Terri Runnels’ recent revelations paint a picture of WWE’s creative process that goes beyond demanding—it was downright ruthless. The former manager’s candid discussion with Ring The Belle exposes how the company steamrolled talent into roles they never wanted, turning what should have been career opportunities into anxiety-inducing nightmares.
From Manager to Reluctant Wrestler: The Transition Nobody Asked For
Runnels’ journey from accomplished manager to unwilling in-ring competitor wasn’t a natural evolution—it was corporate mandate. Between 1999 and 2003, she found herself wrestling matches despite having zero desire to step between the ropes as a competitor. Her passion lay in managing, an art form that was already becoming undervalued in WWE’s evolving landscape.
The lack of preparation WWE provided was staggering, even by the company’s historically sink-or-swim standards. Runnels wasn’t given weeks or even days to prepare for her televised debut—she got minutes.
Ten Minutes to Learn a Lifetime Skill
The reality of WWE’s approach becomes crystal clear through Runnels’ own words, describing the moment her world turned upside down:
“Imagine getting to TVs. You love managing, you love everything about what you do, and then all of the sudden, one day they go, ‘Tonight, you’re going to wrestle in front of millions of people on live television.’ Not to mention the thousands and thousands in the arena that are packed here. We’re going to teach you what you’re going to do in about 10 minutes from now. Yeah, it was brutal.”
This wasn’t just poor planning—it was a complete disregard for both performer safety and match quality. While today’s WWE developmental system requires months or years of training before television appearances, Runnels was expected to perform miracles with a crash course that barely qualified as instruction.
Direct Appeals to Vince McMahon Fell on Deaf Ears
What makes this situation even more troubling is that Runnels didn’t suffer in silence. She took her concerns directly to the top, pleading with Vince McMahon himself to reconsider the decision. Her efforts proved futile, as she explained to Ring The Belle.
“I begged Vince, please don’t make me wrestle. Yeah, it was pretty clear that I was going to wrestle,” Runnels revealed, highlighting the one-way nature of WWE’s creative discussions during that era.
The Irony of Wrestling Aspirations
Perhaps the most striking aspect of Runnels’ story is how it flips the typical wrestling narrative on its head. While countless performers spend years grinding in gymnasiums and high school cafeterias, dreaming of their WWE debut, Runnels represented the complete opposite scenario.
“All these women and people want to be wrestlers and train for years and years just to be able to wrestle and I didn’t want to. I loved taking bumps from the guys, Kane picked me up from the neck and tossed me to the front row chairs, Dudleys put me through the table, great. But I did not want to wrestle.”
Interestingly, Runnels found enjoyment in the physical aspects of sports entertainment—taking bumps and selling for the male roster. Her willingness to be launched by Kane or put through tables by the Dudley Boyz showed she wasn’t afraid of the physical demands. The issue was being forced into a role that required technical wrestling skills she never developed or desired.
The Ballet Analogy That Exposed WWE’s Limitations
Runnels’ comparison of wrestling to ballet reveals another layer of the problem. Matches weren’t just athletic contests—they were carefully choreographed performances that required precise timing and extensive memorization.
“I had to memorize it as if it were a ballet, which god forbid when they needed to go home early or stretch that match out, they’re like, ‘Terri is in the match, we can’t do either,'” she explained. This limitation didn’t just affect Runnels—it handcuffed the entire creative process, preventing natural adjustments that experienced wrestlers make instinctively.
The Final Chapter: 2003 Tag Team Match
Runnels’ in-ring career concluded in 2003 with a tag team encounter that paired her with Lita against Gail Kim and Molly Holly. By this point, she had endured four years of reluctant wrestling appearances, never finding the passion that drove her peers but fulfilling her corporate obligations nonetheless.
A Window Into WWE’s Creative Philosophy
This story illuminates a broader issue within WWE’s creative approach during the early 2000s. The company’s willingness to force square pegs into round holes reflected a one-size-fits-all mentality that often wasted talent’s natural strengths. Runnels excelled as a manager, yet WWE seemed determined to minimize that role in favor of in-ring competition she neither wanted nor was prepared for.
Today’s wrestling landscape offers more specialized roles and longer developmental periods, but Runnels’ experience serves as a reminder of how the industry’s demands can override individual preferences and natural abilities. Her story raises important questions about performer autonomy and whether wrestling companies should honor their talent’s strengths rather than forcing unwanted transformations. What other performers might have thrived if given the freedom to focus on their preferred roles instead of conforming to corporate vision?
