What if, entertain me for a second here, we reframed "Throwing Stones" to be about any act of antagonism amongst individuals? What lessons would be gleaned from this exercise, and how can we apply them to the communities we all share?
Fighting games are at their core a competitive exercise. Much like any other competitition, trash talk related to the confines of the game itself is permitted while attacks on the identity of the participants is not.
Repeated out-of-game asshole behavior is justified by some as the asshole simply "being a heel".[1] Even some more more well meaning fighting gamers that extol the virtues of banning people who are actually dangerous (like bigots and sex pests) would still like there to be "heels" that display a more humane out-of-game antagonism.
I understand where the desire for pro-wrestling style angles in the fighting game community comes from. There is a substantial demographic overlap in fandoms after all.[2] If you scour the hotel rooms at a given major, at least a few will have current (or former) PPVs on. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention all the fighting game-related signs that get brought to live pro wrestling events.[3]
Here's the thing about pro wrestling that lends itself to the concepts of angles, feuds, and the face/heel dichotomy: it is scripted. Trying to manufacture "heat" like a wrestling heel would just makes you look like an ass. This is especially true in smaller games where the only incentive to play is love of the game; this behavior can and will disrupt the good vibes the community wishes to foster.[4]
What's so special about trying to lift narratives that would only work in fiction to real competitions? Why not embrace the fact that competition allows for plenty of avenues for narratives to grow organically? The "villain" can just be anyone who has a reign of dominance that people are motivated to try and end. Rivalries can be forged by constantly running into one another in high stakes environments. Underdog stories can be celebrated all the same, whether they be a Cinderella run pieced together by someone coming out of nowhere or an established competitor working to finally get the albatross off their neck.
All that being said, it's perfectly fine if the level of play alone succeeds in captivating you, informing an opinion that narratives as a whole are unnecessary.[5] Variety is the spice of life, and reasons for enjoying the things we enjoy is no different.