Industry expert Keith Elliot Greenberg chronicles pro wrestling through the most memorable, controversial, and polarizing period of the last two decades As a new decade dawned, 2020 was supposed to be the best year to be a wrestling fan. Finally, WWE had serious competition in All Elite Wrestling (AEW), and there were viable secondary promotions and a thriving international indie scene. Few in the industry realized that in China, a mysterious virus had begun to spread. By the time a pandemic was declared in March, the business - and the world - was in disarray. For the first time, pro wrestling was no longer seen as escapism, as real-world events intruded on the fantasy. Still, when everything else shut down, wrestling never went away. Despite cancellations and empty arena shows, there were great innovations, like the cinematic match - battles shot to look like movies - and the "ThunderDome," which replicated the live experience with fan faces surrounding the ring on LED screens. On the indie circuit, matches were held outdoors with spectators separated into socially distanced pods. The entire time, New York Times bestselling author and historian Keith Elliot Greenberg was chronicling the scene, juxtaposing pro wrestling developments with actual news events like the U.S. presidential election and Brexit. The result, Follow the Buzzards: Pro Wrestling in the Age of COVID-19, captures the dread, confusion, and spontaneous creativity of this uncertain era while exploring the long-term consequences. Follow the Buzzards: Pro Wrestling in the Age of COVID-19 examines wrestling as an ecosystem - all the way from local community shows to those that are on national television - against the backdrop of real-world events like the American presidential election, the Black Lives Matter movement, Brexit, and the race to find a vaccine. Keith Elliot Greenberg is a New York Times bestselling author and television producer. A columnist for wrestling magazine Inside The Ropes, he previously co-authored the autobiographies of Freddie Blassie, Ric Flair, and "Superstar" Billy Graham. Follow the Buzzards picks up where Too Sweet: Inside the Indie Wrestling Revolution left off. He lives in Brooklyn, NY. The cars pulled into the parking lot of the Chase Center on the Riverfront in Wilmington, Delaware. Drivers exuberantly honked horns and passengers rolled down windows to wave flags, signs and mylar balloons festooned with the images of Joe Biden and California Senator Kamala Harris. Earlier in the day, following a long, bitter campaign, conducted in the midst of an international pandemic, the final projections came in, verifying that Biden would become the next president of the United States. To the television networks, Biden's triumph was a shoot - pro wrestling parlance for something authentic. But as the victor's supporters jubilantly surged into the streets, the sitting president - real estate developer and World Wrestling Entertainment Hall of Famer Donald J. Trump - holed up in the White House, brooding, refusing to concede. For the next two months - until his account was permanently suspended by the social media giant - Trump would take to Twitter, weaving voter fraud conspiracies. There were tales about dead people casting ballots, Republican poll watchers being banned from monitoring the count and voting machines somehow reprogrammed to log Trump votes for Biden. To hear Trump tell it, the election was a work - the wrestling term for a con - the biggest double cross since Stanislaus Zbyszko went against the script and pinned champion Wayne Munn in 1925, allowing the referee no option but to award the title to the Polish strongman. As I watched the broadcast of the president-elect's motorcade rolling down I-95 to the celebration, I was monitoring another auspicious event on my laptop. This one emanated from Jacksonville, Florida, and, like the Biden fete,

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