In 2008, Scott Steiner delivered one of a TNA show’s most classic and hilarious promos. He was preparing for a three-way match at the Sacrifice pay-per-view against Samoa Joe and Kurt Angle.
Steiner instead uses math to “prove” why he would win instead of all the bullshit. First, he says how, in a one-on-one fight, everyone has a 50/50 chance. However, because he is a “genetic freak,” the odds change to 75%. Then, he factors in Kurt Angle being in the match, making his opponent’s odds “go down drastically.” However, Steiner figures it out and confidently states that he has a “141 2/3 chance of winning.”
What made it unforgettable was the surprise. It was priceless. Instead of the usual tough guy talk and challenging guy promo premise, Steiner went full math mode (the math makes absolutely no sense). The delivery was so over the top that it turned an ordinary promo into a piece of wrestling history.
The “math promo” became a legend over time, not at the moment. It did not go viral the day it aired in 2008 since TNA had a smaller viewership then. However, as clips started popping up on forums or early social media, fans could not get enough of a wild combination of Steiner’s intense delivery and bonkers math.
Wittgenstein argued in Philosophical Investigations and Remarks on the Foundations of Mathematics against the Platonist idea that mathematical truths exist, awaiting our discovery. To him, mathematics is more of a human invention, innovation, and technique that we have developed and agreed upon over time.
Think about how we study basic mathematics, like 2 + 2 = 4. We are not revealing eternal truths floating in a mysterious abstract realm. We are showing students how to use symbols and follow the rules established by our society. Wittgenstein would say it is more like teaching someone the rules of a game than introducing them to an independent reality.
One of Wittgenstein’s ideas was that mathematical necessity is not about matching some abstract truth but obeying the rules of a system we have created. When we say, “2 + 2 must equal 4,” the “must” arises from our adherence to the rule, not a metaphysical necessity. It is like in chess: a bishop must move diagonally, not because of some universal truth about bishops, but because that is the rule we have agreed upon.
Wittgenstein’s idea of “language games,” introduced in Philosophical Investigations, is closely related. Different kinds of mathematics are like games with rules and goals, such as counting, measuring, or solving equations. What works in one game may not work in another, just as the rules of chess do not apply to checkers.
When someone makes a mathematical mistake, we do not act as if they have misunderstood reality (as if they said “it is raining” when it is sunny). Instead, we treat them as if they have broken a rule, like making an illegal move in a game. That is a key part of Wittgenstein’s perspective on mathematics.
He also highlights the social nature of mathematics. Mathematical certainty does not come from private mental processes, collective practices, or agreements. That is why Wittgenstein’s idea of a “private language” applies here: just as there is no private language, there can be no private mathematics.
Context matters, too. The rules for counting apples are not the same as for measuring water, and what works in one situation may not work in another. For Wittgenstein, the meaning of mathematics is not fixed; it depends on how we use it in different contexts.
This view changes the way we think about mathematics. Rather than seeing it as the discovery of eternal truths, Wittgenstein argued that mathematics is more like a set of tools we create to explore the world. These tools work because they reflect abstract reality and have been honed and refined over centuries.
In Wittgenstein’s terms, a wrestling promo is a form of communication that follows an entirely different set of rules than everyday conversation. Just as mathematical proofs have their way of reasoning and presenting ideas, a wrestling promo has a structure that makes sense in its world.
Think about the basics of a wrestling promo: a wrestler looks directly into the camera or the audience and talks about how they will dominate their opponent. Anywhere else, saying something like, “I’m going to destroy you this Sunday!” would sound like a serious threat. However, in the language game of a wrestling promo, everyone understands that this is all part of the show.
There are a few key “rules” in the game: exaggeration is not only allowed but required. You do not have to back up your claims with facts. Threats of violence? Pure show. The audience plays along by cheering, booing, or chanting, all in a way that fits the unspoken rules of the game.
Steiner’s promo is so interesting because it combines two language games: wrestling promos and math. Usually, saying you have a “141 2/3 chance of winning” is just plain bullshit. Making up statistics is misleading in most situations. However, in wrestling promos, using math like this works.
The point of a wrestling promo is not to be logical or factual. The audience’s expectations are key here. Fans know that when a wrestler says, “I’m the greatest of all time,” they are not making a statement to be fact-checked. It is just another move in the game, like calling “check” in chess.
Steiner’s pitch works by taking the usual elements of a wrestling pitch (bragging, swearing, and character development) and running them through a wild mathematical filter. The result is a unique mix that works on multiple levels.
For starters, Steiner uses fake math to achieve a classic pitch goal. When he opens with, “You got a 50/50 chance of winning,” he sets up a relatable, logical starting point. It is a standard pitch opening with a believable claim before escalating it. Then he flips it on its head, calling himself a “genetic freak” and turning it into a numerical advantage (he has a 75% chance of winning). What would typically be just a brag suddenly feels “scientific.”
The math talk is at play here. It gives Steiner’s claim a false sense of authority, making it sound official even as it gets crazier. When he yells, “The numbers don’t lie!” he leans into the respect that math has for him while ignoring its rules entirely. It is perfect for wrestling, where asserting dominance comes from cleverly bending convention.
What is brilliant is how Steiner sticks to his twisted mathematical logic. Each step of his calculations builds on the last, even if the numbers are entirely made up. This image suggests how wrestling promos traditionally construct on their audacious claims but do so with a mathematical twist.
The promo remains assertive, which says it all. It is a fair personality juncture, delivering Steiner’s vehemence, insolence, and purified amusement. That mixture of gravity and levity serves so pleasingly with the across-the-board sense of wrestling.
It gets crazier when Kurt Angle enters the mix. Steiner says that in a three-way match, everyone should have a 33 1/3% chance of winning, which is technically accurate. However, Steiner claims that because Kurt “knows he can’t win,” Steiner’s odds jump to 66 2/3%. Then, he adds his genetic freak factor to that and ends up with a jaw-dropping 141 2/3% chance of victory—completely ignoring the rule that probabilities cannot exceed 100%.
The genius of Steiner Math lies in how seriously he delivers this nonsense. He presents it as unshakable logic, but the math is hilariously flawed. However, in the world of wrestling promos, accuracy does not matter. The numbers are not there to predict anything; they are tools to excite Steiner’s dominance and entertain the audience.
It is like a wrestling version of a Lewis Carroll riddle—completely nonsensical but oddly consistent in its logic. Fans love it because it captures wrestling’s over-the-top essence: a place where reality bends to fit the drama. Moreover, Steiner’s absolute conviction seals the deal, turning bad math into iconic entertainment.
Steiner starts with something familiar—a 50/50 chance of winning—which everyone understands. It anchors the promo in basic math before it goes off the rails completely. When he claims his “genetic freak” status gives him a 75% chance of winning, fans do not demand proof. Instead, they go along with the ride because they know the numbers are not about accuracy but entertainment.
Then comes the infamous leap: adding probabilities to end up with a “141 2/3%” chance of victory. It would be nonsense in any other setting—like a math class or sports analysis. However, wrestling is iconic because fans agree that numbers here are not about logic but storytelling. It aligns with Wittgenstein’s point that meaning comes from shared rules within a specific context.
The promo uses math as a dramatic tool, not a precise one. Just like wrestling exaggerates physical feats, Steiner exaggerates math for effect. His confident delivery sells the absurdity, making it feel logical within the over-the-top world of wrestling.
Ultimately, Steiner Math shows how language, even mathematical language, can shift meaning based on its purpose. In wrestling, numbers are not about predicting outcomes—they are props to build character, tell a story, and entertain. That is why fans still love and quote Steiner Math: It is a perfect mix of absurdity, drama, and shared understanding.
References
- TNA. (2008). Scott Steiner’s math promo [Video]. YouTube.
- Wittgenstein, L. (1953). Philosophical investigations (G. E. M. Anscombe, Trans.). Blackwell Publishing. (Original work published 1953).
- Wittgenstein, L. (1983). Remarks on the foundations of mathematics (G. E. M. Anscombe, Trans.). MIT Press. (Original work published 1956).
Comments
Sorry to be a pedant but TNA’s viewership was much higher in 2008 than it is today. They were still on Spike TV in the US and were drawing 1 million a week; today on AXS they barely get over 100,000 viewers.
Author
Thanks for the correction! I appreciate the clarification, and thank you for taking the time to read this essay!
No worries!