Wrestling might be fixed, but it isn’t fake. In his autobiography, Mick Foley questions how fake a frying pan in the face can ever be: my own early memories of late night American wrestling include a moment when a chain wielding Russian stereotype slipped and swung his opponent into the ropes. His immediate temper tantrum – and the look of abject terror on the face on his prone victim – put wrestling in the same category as theatre or dance, where careful choreography and dramatic scenarios play out deep themes. If the comparison with ancient gladiators has been overdone, the connection to classical Greek tragedy is evident, especially in the increasingly complex network of grudge matches and personal conflict that dominated the US circuit over the last decade.

Rob Drummond – hot from his success with the National Theatre of Scotland as Mr. Write – seems to have spotted the same analogy. If he has been noticed around Glasgow of late looking exhausted, and nursing a dislocated elbow, it is because Drummond has trained himself to become the world’s first sports entertainer and playwright hybrid.

Sitting in the gap between childhood memories – either of the brutal British bouts adored by usually placid grannies, or the glamour shows of the US – the more respected martial arts and the fundamental battle between good and evil (baby faces and heels respectively), wrestling revealed its iconic potential in the recent Mickey Rourke return to form. As theatre strives to expand audiences and include new formats, Drummond's decision to merge combat and script is imaginative, simultaneously immersing himself in the world of the wrestler and following the contemporary performance practice of using personal experiences to fuel performance. 

In a recent article, he named Foley (the artist formerly known as Cactus Jack) as a hero, praising his courage and intensity, while playing down Foley's second career as respected author and political activist. So while Drummond might appear to be aiming for an easy, lowest common denominator topic, does he recognise that wrestling, perhaps even more so on the back of Aronofsky’s career saving movie, has more depth than the casual observer might imagine?

What attracted you towards wrestling as a subject for a play?

I could try to intellectualise it but the truth is that when the eight year old Rob first saw wrestling he just thought the fact that these massive men were fighting was cool. Maybe it's something inherent within us that leads men and indeed a lot of women to be drawn to a simpler way of solving problems. It's embedded in our DNA right back to before we became sentient.

Are you hoping to cross audience boundaries with the show and maybe attract some of the punters who'd rather see a punch up than hear poetry?

There's something for everyone in this show. If you like wrestling you might be surprised to find yourself enjoying the theatre and vice versa. And the documentary will give a unique insight into the behind the scenes world and what it takes to be a pro wrestler and a theatre maker too.

As far as your work goes, you have certainly moved away from the traditional approach to script writing - all to the good, I feel. Are you acknowledging that theatre is in need of an energy injection, to escape from its rather tired reputation as a middle class, yet ultimately meaningless, diversion?

I think you're putting words into my mouth there, Vile. I am writing two traditional plays just now including one for the Òran Mór. Good writing is good writing in whatever form it comes and the best theatre has a well crafted script or carefully devised narrative at its core. Middle class? Meaningless? I think that's offensive. There's nothing wrong with a nice gentle piece of theatre if people enjoy it. There's also nothing wrong with an action packed adrenalin fuelled night of wrestling. You always try to boil things down. You're too prescriptive. I don't label things – I just try to entertain whatever audience is in front of me.

Does this show rely on a carefully devised narrative alongside the adrenalin inspired subject? And how did you devise that narrative – any particular process?

There’s a script. And I've sat down and written that script. In a room. On my own. It's based on my experiences with watching and training for wrestling and on conflict, masculinity and reality. It's not as tight and careful a script as I would create for a traditional play – that process will happen in rehearsals. There will be other unscripted elements of course, but at the heart there's a story. Because people like stories. It's why wrestling evolved into pro wrestling. The story is king.

I like the idea that wrestling – once upon a time the domain of serious sportsmen, American author John Irving and dubious "Graeco-Roman" style enthusiasts – evolved into WCW because storytelling is so crucial to human pleasure. But as part of this process, you have put yourself through some serious training. Has the impact of that training on your body altered the way you approach writing?

It's still a serious sport and if you don't believe me ask my doctor. It just has an entertaining slant – like the way football has become on Sky Sports. It's influenced the angle at which I approach the keypad as my back is frequently sore, but it hasn't affected my writing much at all. It's the same process as any play – research (whether physical or mental) then write. What these guys and girls do is no more strange than what you or I do for a living. It's certainly no more strange than people who sit behind a desk all day hating their job wishing they could be home. To even imply it's not serious is disrespectful.