If Vince McMahon's deepest, most personal dreams had somehow come true, the Million Dollar Man would have been a good guy. He would have come out, waved money, ordered people around, made off-colour remarks and, ultimately, he would have been lauded as a hero.

It didn't happen that way for Ted DiBiase, but it's working for Donald Trump.

"Lemme tell you something, I'm very rich," he says. The crowd cheers.

"Women are pigs," he says. The crowd cheers.

"I own a lot of golf courses, lemme tell you, my golf courses, they're the best in the world, everybody loves them," he says. The crowd cheers.

And now he's going to run America.

There's one way to understand the Republican frontrunner, and as vaguely news-savvy young men with a cynicism-hardened interest in pro wrestling, we're uniquely qualified to look into it. Donald Trump is a wrestling character. Here's why.

If Vince McMahon's deepest, most personal dreams had somehow come true, the Million Dollar Man would have been a good guy. He would have come out, waved money, ordered people around, made off-colour remarks and, ultimately, he would have been lauded as a hero.

It didn't happen that way for Ted DiBiase, but it's working for Donald Trump.

"Lemme tell you something, I'm very rich," he says. The crowd cheers.

"Women are pigs," he says. The crowd cheers.

"I own a lot of golf courses, lemme tell you, my golf courses, they're the best in the world, everybody loves them," he says. The crowd cheers.

And now he's going to run America.

There's one way to understand the Republican frontrunner, and as vaguely news-savvy young men with a cynicism-hardened interest in pro wrestling, we're uniquely qualified to look into it. Donald Trump is a wrestling character. Here's why.

Hulk Hogan is alive. Roddy Piper is dead.

Hulk Hogan is bad. Roddy Piper is good.

Hulk Hogan was in that movie where he plays basically Hulk Hogan but wearing blue. Roddy Piper was in a John Carpenter cult-classic B movie that Slavoj Zizek featured in one of his documentaries about film.

Hulk Hogan is despised. Roddy Piper is beloved.

Hulk Hogan is the 1980s monoculture. Roddy Piper is the 1980s counterculture.

Hulk Hogan did not kick Cyndi Lauper in the head and remain lifelong friends with her. Roddy Piper did kick Cyndi Lauper in the head and remain lifelong friends with her.

Hulk Hogan essentially created the conditions for the first Gulf War. Roddy Piper did not create the conditions for the first Gulf War.

It's hard to make sense of these things sometimes, but we try, with the help of Sartre and shoot interviews.

Bray, County Wicklow, Ireland. Just south of Dublin, it’s the birthplace of Finn Balor, Hozier and, most importantly, Jumping Nothing’s Cathal.

Join us as we hear tales of his time in the community hall watching an 18-year-old Fergal Devitt crack open his head off a ladder in front of the world’s most casual crowd.

We also take in the new NXT champion’s time in Japan, the logic of his ‘inner demon’ gimmick and, most excitingly, we fantasy book his move to the main roster of the WWE. Will he defeat Cena clean under the Wrestlemania sign? Or will he become Wee Cousin Fergal, Sheamus’s Oirish partner in crime?It’s an Irish celebration (#nomacklemore) on the podcast today. Enjoy

The team head to the pub in blitz-wracked Bethnal Green, London to get soused and prepare for an evening of traditional greasy grapple in storied York Hall, as former WWE stars, indie darlings and THE CURRENT IWGP HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION fly in to take on the best the locals have to offer in Revolution Pro Wrestling’s Summer Sizzler.

We speculate on what’s about to happen in the lively Old George pub before reviewing events back at the studio.

We are SHOCKED by Matt Classic’s true identity.

We are IN AWE of Big Damo’s bigness.

We are ASTOUNDED by the feats of valour and athleticism shown off by Will Ospreay and Matt Sydal.

We are EMBARRASSED by Karl’s reaction to AJ Styles.

We are AFFLICTED by Stendhal Syndrome while watching Shinsuke Nakamura.

Find out why, and more, by listening to the podcast.

Daniel Bryan is finished. Injury has done for him for perhaps the final time. In this podcast, the team discuss whether this is their fault, and by extension your fault, for demanding so much of a preternaturally talented star.

There's a wide-ranging discussion, from a 25-year-old 5'8" indie wrestler being the best in the world to a man holding up the belt at the end of a Wrestlemania booked around him.

We talk Bryan the strong-style master, Bryan the artist, Bryan the child entertainer and more, finishing by fantasy booking the rest of his life. Join us.

The Irish and the Mexicans have links that go deep, from our shared affection for the Olé Olé Olé football chant to the disproportionately large number of Mexican fast good outlets in Dublin considering its population of ~8 Mexican people.

So it’s sure to be a joyful time when our team, renamed Carlos, Don Miguel and El Wogano for the occasion, take a look at Lucha Underground, the hour-long lucha libre show that popped up at some point last year.

Join us as we discover the wizardry of the luchadore, intergender wrestling and Alberto Del Rio doing great after the divorce.

[We watched: Several episodes of Lucha Underground TV]

Thanks to Tim for the music suggestion from the shadow of the Arena Mexico itself.

Brock Lesnar doesn’t seem like he enjoys wrestling all that much - but that doesn’t matter, because he is incredible at it.

In the first episode of the new series of Jumping Nothing, Karl and Michael are joined in their new studio (...not apartment) by new addition Cathal, recruited for his unmatchable virtue of being from somewhat near Fergal Devitt in Bray.

With the third man in place, they unpack the problem of Brock Lesnar, a man who doesn’t do anything smart fans like, but whom it is impossible not to enjoy. He’s made of ham. He sweats instead of selling. He won the title in the main event of his first Wrestlemania - and it wasn’t even his first title. But he was ready. He was born ready.

(We watched:

vs. Kurt Angle, Wrestlemania 19

vs. Eddie Guerrero, No Way Out 2004

vs. Goldberg, Wrestlemania 20

vs. John Cena, Extreme Rules 2013

vs. CM Punk, Summerslam 2013

vs. Undertaker, Wrestlemania 30

vs. Roman Reigns, Wrestlemania 31)

Bret Hart is the greatest professional wrestler of all time - this is a topic on which even implacable enemies Karl and Michael can agree. As a result, this episode is something of a celebration.

We begin at Wrestlemania 10 and conclude at Wrestlemania 13, covering the period of time during which the Hitman consistently failed to have hall-of-fame quality pay-per-view matches, selecting six to show that he could, at his height, do everything, with anyone.

The compilation takes in Bret making sense of Piper, Bret cutting loose with Bulldog, Bret having an athletic wrestling contest with Owen, Bret having a cage-climbing competition with Owen, Bret having Kevin Nash's only good match, and Bret keeping up with Austin as he turns into Austin.

We keep away from the stuff people tend to focus on - the Montreal screwjob, Bret-as-self-righteous, Bret as samey, Bret misused in WCW, Owen's death - and stick to what's really important: Bret as the first and last perfect wrestler in the WWF/E style.

He's not boring, formulaic or irreparably marked by a single dispute. He is literally the best there is, the best there was, and the best there ever will be. Enjoy.

INCIDENTAL MUSIC:

Igor Stravinsky - Sacrifical Dance of the Chosen Victim (Rite of Spring)

Das EFX - We Want EFX

Bobby Brown - Humpin' Around

Nas - One Time 4 Your Mind

Notorious BIG - Warning

GZA - Duel of the Iron Mic

Notorious BIG - Mo Money Mo Problems

Bret Hart's theme

Things take a turn towards Lovecraftian horror as Michael and Karl unfurl the hundreds of depressing things about the fan media that surrounds professional wrestling. From shoot interviewers who laugh at Roddy Piper getting raped to dirt sheets posting about Seth Rollins’ outfit as if it was ‘dirt’ like in the 80s, and from Mick Foley’s relentless Al Snow jokes to the WWE poptimists, we dig up the uncomfortable. Then we stare at it and go, “Jesus”, and sigh, and laugh in a macabre fashion. Then finally we have an existential crisis.

Enjoy.