I remember the excitement coursing through our group chat when we first heard about the online GM mode in this year's wrestling game. We'd been playing GM modes for years, passing controllers around my cramped living room, arguing over draft picks and trading superstars like they were baseball cards. This year was supposed to be different - we could finally run a proper league with friends across different cities, complete with streaming our events on Twitch. The promise felt revolutionary, like we were about to become the Vince McMahons of our own digital wrestling universe. But then we discovered the catch, that bolded asterisk the developers never really emphasized in their marketing materials.
Here's the thing about online GM mode - you can't actually play or watch the matches. You're limited to simulating them, which feels like being given the keys to a sports car but only being allowed to push it around the block instead of driving it. Now, I know what you're thinking - many hardcore GM players simulate their matches anyway to get through seasons faster. That's true, and I've done it myself countless times in solo play. But there's a world of difference between choosing to sim and being forced to sim. It's like the difference between fasting by choice and having someone lock your refrigerator. The absence of choice changes everything.
Let me paint you a picture of what our league nights were supposed to look like. We had everything planned out - eight of us running four different brands, with monthly pay-per-view events where we'd actually play the championship matches live while streaming to our small but enthusiastic Twitch audience. We'd created custom championships, developed ongoing storylines, even assigned commentary roles to friends who weren't participating as GMs. The anticipation was electric. Fast forward to our first scheduled streaming night, and we found ourselves just... sitting there. One person would sim the matches while the rest of us watched spreadsheet-style results populate in real-time. The magic was gone, replaced by the clinical efficiency of watching numbers change.
The irony is that there are so many good quality-of-life improvements in this year's GM mode that make the experience better in other ways. Having more GM character options actually matters more than you'd think - I've probably spent a good twenty minutes just cycling through different appearances before settling on a grizzled veteran GM look that matched the brand identity I wanted to create. The cross-brand events add genuine strategic depth too, allowing for surprise appearances and special match types that break up the monotony of weekly shows. These aren't just minor tweaks - they're meaningful upgrades that show the developers understand what makes GM mode compelling.
But here's where my frustration really kicks in - the developers had all the pieces to create something truly special. They improved the foundation while forgetting to build the house. I estimate that adding the ability to play or spectate matches would have increased our engagement time by at least 60-70%. Instead, our eight-person league that was supposed to last months fizzled out after about three weeks. We went from daily messages planning our streaming schedule to complete radio silence. The social aspect, which was the entire point of online GM mode for us, evaporated because we couldn't share the actual wrestling experience together.
What's particularly baffling is how close they came to perfection. The simulation engine itself has clearly been refined - matches tell more coherent stories through their ratings and outcomes. I've noticed that rivalries actually build organically now, with back-and-forth contests that create natural narrative arcs over multiple shows. The draft system feels more balanced too, preventing any one player from hoarding all the top talent right out of the gate. These are the kinds of improvements that show genuine understanding of what players want from a management simulation.
Yet without the ability to actually experience the matches, either by playing them or watching them unfold, it all feels somewhat hollow. It's like reading a detailed summary of a movie instead of watching it - you get the plot points but none of the emotional impact. When my mid-card champion unexpectedly won a match against a main eventer in our league, the moment should have been electric. Instead, it was just a line of text that appeared in our group chat, followed by a series of confused emoji reactions.
I've been playing wrestling games since the late 90s, and GM mode has always been my favorite way to engage with them. There's something magical about building your own promotion from the ground up, crafting stories, and watching your created universe evolve. This year's iteration comes so close to being the definitive version that it almost hurts. The improvements they made show that the developers listen to feedback and understand what makes the mode special. Which makes the omission of playable/spectatable online matches even more confusing - it's like baking a perfect cake but forgetting the frosting.
Our group still checks in occasionally, sharing screenshots of our solo GM modes and reminiscing about what could have been. We're holding out hope that next year's game will finally deliver the complete online experience we've been dreaming about. Until then, I'll keep playing solo GM mode, appreciating the genuine improvements while feeling that persistent twinge of disappointment about what might have been. The potential is there, shining brightly - we just need the developers to unlock it completely.