Me too.
Ricky Steamboat’s larynx changed my life. I’ve been a wrestling fan ever since.
(Source: professionalwrestling)
Me too.
Ricky Steamboat’s larynx changed my life. I’ve been a wrestling fan ever since.
(Source: professionalwrestling)
Much has been made about the possibility of WWE following the Rock-Cena blueprint and establishing the WrestleMania XXIX main event up to a year in advance — you know, sometime between now and the end of Monday’s Raw. With Twitter being what it is, plus the excitement of former WWE stars arriving in Miami to be a part of WrestleMania weekend, there’s rampant speculation about which stars could be named within the next three days to headline the most risky WrestleMania in recent memory.
One popular option is a CM Punk-Steve Austin showdown, which could follow essentially the same blueprint as Rock-Cena, in terms of one half the match being a regularly active superstar and one a retired legend who would only make scattered appearances throughout the year with little actual wrestling.
Another possibility is Cena-Undertaker, something that would only make sense if Undertaker extends his streak Sunday. However, this is a lot less similar to Rock-Cena than it might appear on the surface. Rock has been on WWE TV far more than Undertaker this year — and actually wrestled a pay-per-view match. I’m not sure I object to Undertaker only showing up once a year to fight at WrestleMania, though it would be harder to suspend disbelief about the sanctity of his streak with each passing year. As much as I love the guy, I’m hoping for a win Sunday to run the record to 20-0, a retirement ceremony and a Hall of Fame induction in 2013.
Yet another option is doing something with a returning megastar, with the hot name du jour being Brock Lesnar. (Yes, Batista is confirmed to be in Miami. But why should we think that’s for anything other than to hang with Ric Flair during his second Hall of Fame induction? Also, if you think Batista is anywhere near the star Brock Lesnar is — think big picture here — then take off your Titan Tower blinders.)
If Lesnar comes back, it would seemingly be to rejoin the active roster, which makes setting a match a year in advance much more complicated — unless of course Brock takes over the Cena role in the Cena-Rock feud. I’m pretty sure Brock vs. Rock at MetLife Stadium is exactly the kind of showdown Vince McMahon could use to print money.
Failing that, what’s to stop Lesnar from pulling a Jericho — coming back at the turn of the year to get involved with the Rumble and the Road to WrestleMania? Jericho, with no clear end date on his current run (unlike Rock, whom we know will be back to Hollywood by mid-April, and we’re OK with that) is free to perform at the top of his game as he pleases. Of course, he’s earned that right far more than Lesnar, from a WWE standpoint. And Lesnar has the kind of transcendent star power befitting a year-long build.
What if, as Geno Mrosko speculated on Cageside Seats, WWE writers are able to put together a card with Rock, Austin, Lesnar, Cena and Punk, not to mention working in Triple H, Undertaker and perhaps Shawn Michaels? Doesn’t leave a lot of room for Dolph Ziggler, Randy Orton, Daniel Bryan and the like, although there will be World and WWE title matches on the WrestleMania card regardless of legend involvement.
While some have said they prefer the main event to be reserved for two guys who deliver in the ring every week, it’s starting to feel like WrestleMania is simply moving in a different direction. Frankly, there shouldn’t be anything wrong with that.
WrestleMania XXVII is more or less utterly forgettable. As much as I love The Miz, his main event title match with Cena seems barely worth of a SummerSlam, let alone WrestleMania. It’s the kind of match you expect to see at Backlash or Vengeance. It’s not Miz’s fault (and the fact he pinned Cena at Mania will serve his career well, from a storytelling standpoint, for the foreseeable future). Even those who said CM Punk was rushed back this summer can’t say they’d prefer Punk-Cena this Sunday when we’re on the brink at the alternative.
Simply put, WrestleMania needs to stand apart from the rest of the WWE calendar. While a lot of that is structure — giant stadium, a four-hour show, Axxess and the Hall of Fame ceremony — we need only to look one year in the past to see what happens when a show is layered with decent matches with passable talent yet devoid of anything other than one seemingly epic encounter. The stage is so much grander than every other WWE event of the year, it simply cries out for star power.
While WrestleMania events in the past have been fairly derided for relying too heavily on celebrity, the good news is with Rock-Cena that WWE has stumbled upon (or carefully devised) a new plan: the celebrity main eventer who is actually a wrestler. Rock is the prototype. Lesnar, with all his mixed-martial arts success, is a workable facsimile. There may not be another clear-cut option as of yet, but if the WWE can find a hook for WrestleMania XXIX a year out, it can somewhat rely on WrestleMania XXX being a must-see event based largely on nostalgia.
Projecting as far out as WrestleMania XXXI in 2015, who’s to say what stars might be possible headliners. That’s far enough in the future that John Cena could have been gone long enough to “come back” for a main event showdown with some current talent who has made the A list by then.
Regardless of the major players, count me firmly in favor of having WrestleMania be the one show each year where a major match is established far in advance. Such a convention will continue to set the event apart and give the active roster all that much more reason to fight like hell for a place on the show. I want guys like Bryan, Ziggler, Miz and so on to make “the leap” as much as anyone. But they have a long, long way to go to be transcendent stars on the order of Austin, Rock, Lesnar, et al. But rather than complain about legends taking the spotlight, we should be happy those legends are willing to come back around and put on another show — hoping that some of their time back in the fold is spent showing the stars of tomorrow the path to glory.
Please take some time, if you haven’t already, to look over Issue One of The Atomic Elbow, a professional wrestling fanzine, since it includes a lengthy piece, by me, in defense of WrestleMania IX. One thing I did not notice until after I submitted the article — that show is the first WrestleMania to include match that could be considered a gimmick match of any kind. Anyhow, please follow the link and consider ordering the ‘zine!
I mentioned this video during my appearance on the Wrestlespective podcast covering Royal Rumble 1991. I thought I’d post a link of the video for anyone who wants to see it, and also use this as another chance to plug my appearance on the podcast, which you should totally listen to if you have two hours to kill.
I was thrilled to make my first appearance on the Wrestlespective podcast. The topic was in my wheelhouse: Early 1990s WWF, my favorite era, and a Royal Rumble, my favorite match. No big shock we talked for almost two hours. Enjoy — and let me know what you think!
The 1991 Royal Rumble match is discussed by Jason Mann and Scott T. Holland of Star of Savage in this marathon show. They discuss what was going on with many of the cast of characters in the Rumble, including “The Model” Rick Martel, Mr. Perfect, Earthquake, Bret Hart, Saba Simba, Jake Roberts,…
John Cena needs to go away — for his own good. I made this argument in a Fair to Flair guest piece way back at the end of November, and while we clearly missed the boat for a pre-WrestleMania absence, I think the sooner Cena takes an extended vacation the better.
The idea of a wrestling star using absence to make the fans’ hearts grow fonder is by no means new. In the old days (pre-Internet) you could simply fake an injury. My personal favorite example is the Earthquake-Hulk Hogan Brother Love Show rib-squashing incident that gave the Hulkster time to film “Suburban Commando.” I was about 10 when that happened, and I’m pretty sure I was still buying everything the WWF was selling. I never sent Hulk a get-well card like all the other little Hulkamaniacs, but I was fairly well convinced the man’s life was in danger.
In the modern era, plenty of stars miss significant time for legitimate injuries. If we don’t see the injuries happen on live TV (Sin Cara, Wade Barrett), the house show reports quickly make the rounds (Ted DiBiase). WWE is part of this process, letting people know when stars will be out of action for medical reasons. That’s fine, as it is important to let people know these performers are actual athletes putting their lives in jeopardy for our entertainment. But it also takes the fake injury out of the writers’ toolbox.
For one thing, it’s in pretty bad form to stage a serious injury (Zack Ryder) for dramatic effect when there are legitimate, life-threatening circumstances at play. Perhaps this could be mitigated by doing away with referees using the “X” sign for fake injuries. The Chris Jericho concussion angle at Elimination Chamber is a good example of going a hair too far in selling a worked injury.
Another problem is the fact you can’t keep a star off TV, especially one like Cena, for the purposes of story. Not only would Internet “news” sites be abuzz with exposing the injury as a “work,” but you’d have to manage the whole thing differently in 2012. If a guy, especially Smiling Superman Cena, is healthy enough to do Make-A-Wish or Jay Leno or whatever, he has to be in the ring competing. He has to be on Raw, has to be at every pay-per-view.
In his Twitter war with the Rock, and during his in-ring promos, Cena has blatantly stated he’s never going to leave the WWE. And he’s proven that to be true. With one notable exception, Cena has avoided the kind of serious injury that has shelved many other top stars for extended periods during his run at the top. That, as much as any booking strategy, is what contributes to the perception he is being “forced” on fans.
But really, what are the writers to do? He’s a huge star. If he’s healthy, he’s in the title picture. Sure, you can put him in the center of the Nexus story, but none of those individuals could match his star power. You can run him with Kane, and then the fans who claim to love the Attitude Era remember how absolutely ludicrous some of the stories from that period proved to be.
His story with The Rock should be a breath of fresh air for the anti-Cena crowd. It’s given CM Punk room to breathe for a WWE Title feud with Chris Jericho. The only reason it works for Cena (as compared to the Kane story) is there is no one on the active roster who is on the same star level as Cena. Not Randy Orton, not Punk, not anyone. Cena transcends, as does the Rock.
(The list of transcendent, bigger-than-the-business stars is very, very small. It also includes Austin, Hogan, Savage, Flair and Andre the Giant. And I put Cena at the very bottom of that list, based on this criteria: find 10 random people, and ask them, “Who is John Cena?” Find any other 10 people, and use the other five names I listed, and see which name gets you a better success ratio.)
The larger point is we can’t miss Cena if he won’t go away. And with no other natural foils, all we’re going to get is the same stories we’ve already seen, albeit with different wrestlers filling the role of the litany of Cena opponents (physical beast, scheming cheater, authority figure, mind games, etc.). He will deliver great matches. He may offer impassioned speeches. He probably will find his way back to the title picture again — what could be more inevitable? But because he’s proven so durable, so willing to be on TV no matter what, he’s simply going to grow stale.
Maybe the kids don’t see it that way. I sure wasn’t ready for Hulk Hogan to walk away after WrestleMania VIII, though revisionist history says we were all tired of his shtick by then. You could argue Ric Flair had a similarly remarkable streak of good health, allowing him to remain at the top of the card far longer than many peers, but he also had the option of switching promotions, not to mention the game-changing shift in the way wrestling was presented in the late 1990s.
What has changed about the way we take in wrestling during Cena’s run? Is the TV and pay-per-view schedule from 2012 as different from 2002 as 2002 was from 1992?
I’ve long argued against a conventional heel turn for Cena. And I don’t wish for him to suffer a legitimate injury. But the more I listen to him promise to never leave, the more it seems like staying around is the worst thing for his character.
One of my favorite thing about amateurs who write about pro wrestling online is how quick we all are to say we don’t want to get into fantasy booking, only to be followed with a paragraph on this one great idea we have for how a certain story should play out or what ought to be done with a given character. (My current contribution is hoping The Miz, currently on a noticeable slide, will bottom out, adjusts his priorities and once again ascend to the top the mountain, only this time with the fans in his corner).
In a similar vein, there has been much discussion of late regarding the WWE calendar (and yes, I have contributed). Specifically the issue has been both the right number of pay-per-view shows and the themes of those shows, but also the role of the promised WWE Network (and the current YouTube channel). A Wrestlespective Twitter conversation today about favorite “free” TV (network and cable) matches sparked lots of great feedback, including nostalgia for Saturday Night’s Main Event and the legendary Clash of Champions series.
Also informing my thoughts are the recent International Object podcast, which included a discussion on the relative value of wrestlers to their company, seating capacities of large arenas and a few awkward but informative comparisons to the NFL and NBA.
With all that in mind, I’m going to ask a question with an obvious answer, but it makes discussing the topic no less fun. Why doesn’t the WWE (no other company is relevant to this conversation) take its “lesser” pay-per-view events and shift them to “free” television? While WWE has the Saturday Night’s Main Event legacy, what I’m really talking about is reviving the Clash. SNME, after all, came from an era where weekly free TV amounted to squash matches and recorded interviews promoting either the next pay-per-view or the next house show at, in my case, the Rosemont Horizon.
SNME was a jobber-free environment, but title changes were rare. Viewed now in retrospect, they are an essential link in the story arcs of the era. Remember, this is a time when there was no big show between WrestleMania and SummerSlam. Even the months between the Royal Rumble and WrestleMania were a huge gap compared to what we have now with Raw and Smackdown every week, not to mention Elimination Chamber.
The Clash series, on the other hand, were rife with cards similar to NWA/WCW pay-per-view shows. In fact, the event started as part of the pay-per-view war between Vince McMahon and Jim Crockett. Why couldn’t the WWE take a leap of faith on putting a lower-tier pay-per-view show, such as Extreme Rules, set for four weeks after WrestleMania, and air it Sunday night on USA? (That show, by the way, comes to you live from the building we used to call the Rosemont Horizon.) Take the same card, same three hours, and just sell commercials. (You know, more commercials than you see on a pay-per-view, formerly a commercial-free viewing experience.) The live gate, merchandise and concessions would presumably be identical.
As I wrote earlier, the answer is obvious. Someone at Titan Towers has done the math, and the buyrate for a show like Extreme Rules, while paling in comparison to WrestleMania, must bring in more revenue for the company than an ad-supported cable special. Though what kind of ratings such a show might generate can only be speculation, since the concept hasn’t been tried for years, it’s obvious the pay-per-view method remains more profitable. Think about it — when have you known a McMahon to take a pass on a money-making idea?
Now, will the advent of the WWE Network change the game? Will people not otherwise inclined to pay a subscriber fee for such a channel be tempted to do so if it gives access to six or seven shows that at present cost about $50 to order via PPV? WWE has been loath to offer anything that would jeopardize PPV buy rates. That’s why the web stream costs the same as the TV broadcast, why there is no audio-only option online and why the replays cost the same as the live show. Again, the current pay-per-view model (12 to 14 shows a year) must be profitable, because otherwise the company would shift directions. There is no direct competitor — not TNA, not UFC, nothing. WWE could consider these moves without losing any of its fan base market share. But presumably such shifts would come with a loss of revenue. That, as we all know, is the real bottom line, which is why we’re unlikely to see major changes unless entertainment industry evolution forces the issue.
TH:
Regardless of what anyone says, I still think Miz has it as a performer for me. He’s still awesome. Yeah, missing Truth on that dive was bad. And yeah, I honestly know that Miz is not everyone’s cup of tea. Regardless, I still look forward to his presence on the show, whether he’s got something to do or not.
I definitely agree with TH on this one. As an avid fan of the Real World/Road Rules challenges, and to a lesser extent “The Real World” itself, I’ve been following Mike Mizanin on TV since 2001. So when I see him living his dream — be it in the main event of WrestleMania or absolutely killing on Conan — I’m just happy for the guy. I bet one of the biggest thrills of his life was taking the Rock Bottom in the middle of the ring during Survivor Series at MSG.
(Let’s put it this way — you could have offered 8-year-old me the chance to grow up and be a wrestler and take even one flying elbow from the Macho Man or a Hulk Hogan legdrop and I would have emptied my piggy bank right there on the spot.)
Furthermore, Miz reminds me of what Brandon Stroud wrote about CM Punk this week:
I may have figured it out — Punk’s character only works for me when I feel like he’s in the right. When he tells Vince McMahon that he’s out of touch with his audience, I understand and agree. When he’s chastising Jeff The Slack-Jawed Yokel or yelling at Raven for pissing away his opportunities with drugs and alcohol, I’m like “yeah tell ‘em Punk you ARE a monster!” When he’s telling John Laurinaitis to take his balls out of his purse or taunting Alberto Del Rio for being Mexican by saying “you’re mexican” over and over, not so much.
But I agree with him here. Jericho’s claims are of the “I’m Glacier and I invented the standing side kick! Nuh uh, I’m Perry Saturn and that’s MY move!” variety and he should be called on it. That can allow Jericho to make Doggy Ate My Owse-Cweam face, and pro wrestling matches can occur. Best in the World vs. Best in the World in a ring at Mania, with their Twitter beef long ago lost in the ether.
When Miz comes out and says it’s BS he won the WrestleMania main event last year and can’t even sniff the card in 2012, he has a fantastic point. Not only do I like it when the show acknowledges even its recent past, I appreciate a guy with clear motivations. Miz wants to fight for his spot in the company. He is a moth for the TV cameras and yearns for relevancy. It’s not Dostoyevsky or anything, but at least it’s logical.
(Another obvious example at the moment: Big Show wants to win at WrestleMania. We’re acknowledging his horrible track record, going so far as to beat fans over the head with it — not that I disagree with how it’s being played out. Point is, no matter how his match at that show ends, the fans will be heavily invested in the outcome. A story is being told, and isn’t that the point?)
Is Miz that much different from Zack Ryder, at least in terms of motivation? Yes, Miz has been to the mountaintop and is looking to re-ascend, while Ryder was trying to break through, but the message is the same: I belong here with all these other guys. I deserve a shot. Where’s mine?
Maybe I’m just longing for a Shawn-Michaels-at-WrestleMania XII-type moment for Miz, where he has both fan support and the spotlight he craves. I know it’s easy for any moron to say “face turn!” or “heel turn!” as the solution for everything, which is not my point. But where others look at Miz’s current place and see irrelevance or burial or just a casualty of too many guys and not enough TV time, I see a character evolving, the building of layers and the potential for a big payoff if ever his number is called.
Plus, the guy is living his dream. And while that doesn’t make him unique, my knowledge (filtered by reality TV) of him when he was just a dreamer is part of the reason I remain invested in seeing him succeed.
TH:[Cena is] the guy who stayed, and that contrast against the movie star is more important than worrying who the one who gets to nominally be called “the babyface” is. If that character gets booed out of the building? Then so be it. At least people are reacting to him. I think WWE sees this, and it’s not a mistake that Cena’s tone has gotten more and more homespun, authentic, charitable and kid-friendly than Rock’s almost insular counterpart videos. They each reinforce the image of coolness in the fans’ heads. Cena is trying too hard to get people to like him, and no matter what, he comes off as lame. Rocky doesn’t need anyone to tell him he’s cool, so his videos can be about his family or just showing him filming on the set of his next movie. They each inform the roles the specific characters are going to play in Miami.Cena’s bragging vis-a-vis his time in WWE also comes off as arrogant, as if fans should automatically respect Cena for showing up and disrespect Rock for not coming back until now — but given WWE’s cloudy creative direction regarding Cena (and his status as de facto heel in this feud), it’s hard to tell if this is intentional or not.
If you are a Rock fan, you probably see Cena’s speech Monday as sour grapes. The Rock went on to Hollywood and got famous; Cena made some crappy movies. He’s not “always here” because he puts wrestling above all else, it’s because that’s his ceiling. He craves the love The Rock gets so effortlessly. He is hurt personally when fans turn on him to shower The Rock with adulation.
If you are a Cena fan, of course, you buy in to his logic that The Rock abandoned his fans, that Cena is to be revered for his persistence and perseverance. You love when he calls The Rock “Dwayne” because it brings the prima donna down to Earth. You love Cena because he loves the WWE as much as you do.
Like most, I much prefer Cena in this type of program, which reflects the ongoing reality era, instead of his horror movie saga with Kane, which called for both characters to ignore reality and play to cartoonish archetypes, the kind of angle fans were fed regularly years ago but are loathe to accept today.
We know wrestlers are portraying characters. But characters that are an extension of reality carry an air of believability and aid the audience in suspending its disbelief. Ziggler is a showoff, Miz is a glory hound and so on. No one believes Ron Jacobs is insane, that Glen Jacobs is mentally disturbed, etc. And then we have guys like Kofi Kingston, who is undefinable because he simply has no character, save smiling and jumping high. I’m not going to break down the whole roster, but you get the picture.
Long story short, it is good to have Cena back in “reality.” I’m no more inclined to cheer him than I was last week, but I do appreciate his character having layers and texture that allow him to interact logically with the other characters.
The biggest example is, as we all should figure, Chris Benoit, a man who exists with two absolute parallel truths: he was perhaps one of the greatest wrestling performers in history, and he murdered his wife and son. Your stance on how much you compartmentalize those two truths is an interesting thing to discuss, because it forces you to take a stand on personal morality, the importance of cultural output, and how well or poorly we treat and are treated by the people who are paid to entertain us.
It’s agreed Benoit is Exhibit A in this discussion. But what can’t be overlooked is the cause-effect relationship, in that many of the very things that led to his (justifiable) reputation as “one of the greatest wrestling performers in history” are very likely the same things that robbed him of his sanity/normal brain operation and led to his unspeakable crime.
You take a guy like Scott Hall, whose peak performances rank with anyone, but clearly the guy has made a mess of his life and is in no way a role model. But with Benoit, you go back and watch his matches — see the bumps, the chair shots, etc., — and with each one you wonder about the concussions, the rise of CTE and the gradual wasting of his brain until he reached the ultimate abyss. And we cheered for those performances, we ALL did.
He was a hell of a wrestler, and you can (and, I would argue, should in most cases) appreciate the art without beatifying the artist. But what happens when the pursuit of that art is what led to the artist’s destruction?
(Source: internationalobject)