Hey there, it’s your much-missed columnist James “I’ve got a headache, and it’s THIS big” Carter back with more My Pinterest Is Piledrivers. Sorry about the unplanned skip week last time, but the body is a helluva mistress, which is awkward because I’m a boy. We can never predict the various vagaries of human existence, and furthermore my MacBook is feeling and sounding like the Millennium Falcon more by the minute (in that it’s kinda old and raggedy, not so much being an awesome futuristic spaceship) so what I might do since this column isn’t really time-sensitive is to stockpile drafts to avoid any more unplanned vacancies. Actually, it’s what I did this week… until I forgot to email myself the draft from work. Ha ha ha! Ahhhh, starting over.
Before I get started on this week’s topic… apparently there’s a-doings a-transpiring with the latest episode of Z!: True Long Island Story. I guess WWE edited out two minutes from the video. What was left was kinda controversial enough, with Ryder once again seeming to comment on his stalled push due to the fact that… he got over on his own and was doing Creative’s job for them? I forget the reason. I know I already kind of touched on this last week, but if someone could remind me why the WWE is so petty and spiteful as to punish their own people, the same people that are bringing them fans and merch money, I’d be eternally grateful. There’s a really smart business reason why this happens and I’m just not Ivy League enough to know, I’m sure of it.
Speaking of guys who know what it’s like to be buried for no apparent reason, this week I want to present the next smart move the WWE should make that they invariably won’t. Hiring CM Punk to a lifetime contract. Lifetime. From now until he shuffles off this mortal coil. With a bonus clause to use his casket in a match between Undertaker Jr versus Dewey Foley.
Yes, obviously everyone who’s ever written for, been on, or heard of the Internet has a boner for Punk. But why? Well, he says he’s the Best In The World… because he is.
He’s the best worker in the world. Not only is he good at getting a decent match from almost anybody, but he has something all the flippity floppity guys and eager bleeders don’t. People care. People care about his character. He sells, he has facial expressions. He can do more with one simple elbow drop than any indie guy with a double reverse avalanche powerbomb through a flaming table ever could.
He’s the best on the mic. Definitely now, and i’d easily rank him top five all time. Sure, other people have catchphrases that are fun to say all at once and then clap and cheer like you’re seven… but there’s a cunning and intelligence to Punk’s promos, as well as a cheerful willingness to insult the audience.
And yes, he’s even the best at commentary. Bonus points for sneaking in references to A-Ry’s DUI and the King’s age of consent woes…
But it’s more than just that. Should he stay injury free, he’s probably got a good ten to twelve years left as an active competitor. After that? He can be the Best Manager In The World, able to draw heat to all manner of future Superstars that barely know which end to hold the mic (ahem, guys like Brock, ahem). After or during that? He can sit at the booth and provide both color and actually be a knowledgeable straight man who might even know his wrestling history and the names of moves! Imagine! And that’s just in front of the camera. Just think of the ideas and storylines this guy could pitch as the new head of Creative or, at least, a powerful member of the office. He’s openly criticized the overuse of the Montreal Screwjob finish/tease, so he’s obviously aware of the need of originality in wrestling. As well as the need for wrestling in wrestling.
He’s a proud professional wrestler, not one who’s looking to just make the jump into movies or record deals, but one that actually likes coming up with ideas for WWE-themed desserts and WWE Films that won’t debut directly in the Wal-Mart dollar bin. The kind of company man that cares about the business but doesn’t care about money enough to blindly go along with whatever jackass idea the McMahons or one of their cronies will come up with.
Which is exactly why this probably won’t ever happen. Sigh…