Wrestling News, Opinions, Etc. 6.25.02


Dear Abby,

I’m a young editor of a small newspaper without too much experience.  Recently, we had a problem where two celebrities passed away on the same day (ironically, in the same city).  One was a moderately-popular sports figure who died young in the middle of his career.  The other was a very famous and very popular newspaper columnist.  We in the newsroom were uncertain about which obituary should be given “more play”.  I said to go with the sports figure, while one of the senior writers said that the newspaper columnist was the more appropriate choice, and I found that cnn.com agreed with me.  We’ve got a pizza riding on who you say is right.

                                                       Confused In Cucamonga
Dear Confused,

The pizza’s on you.  Obviously, the instinct among newspapermen is to “play up” the death of the sports figure, since it’s the bigger story.  However, it’s more appropriate to give more column space to the person who contributed the most in his or her life, and that would be the newspaper columnist.  Especially if it’s my sister, you little pissant.

In Memoriam:  Ann Landers and Darryl Kile

Okay, here’s a confession:  most of the time, I spend Sundays prepping this column and even doing a little work on the Wednesday column (mostly in regard to Mailbag).  This Sunday was spent almost entirely in bed for me as my body finally told me, “Okay, that’s enough stress for you” and went into shutdown mode.  It was such an effort getting up to take a piss that I thought that the oldsters had the right idea when it came to chamber pots.  Yes, very unsanitary, but the convenience balances it out.  So I’m ending up doing a little prep on this thing at 3:15 in the morning on Monday before heading out to do things for people who (under)pay me.  Of course, there always has to be the cosmic joke attached.  What did my alarm clock start blaring out at 2:30?  “Enter Sandman”.  The radio stations around Chicago seem to have a habit of playing the wrong material at the worst possible times.

What any of that has to do with anything is beyond me, but I found that it pisses people off when I start talking about my life instead of wrestling, so I’ll keep doing it.  Now, let’s get on to the pimps…


Memo to Flea:  Not with my work schedule, man.  It all boils down to a choice between sleep and spending a Tuesday night in Rosemont with thousands of screaming marks.  Sleep wins, because there’s not enough Paxil in the world to stop that anxiety attack from happening, nor enough Vicks Vap-o-rub to spread under my nose to block out the collective body odor and beer belches.  Proof that Chicago has rednecks?  Any WWE visit to the Rosemont Horiz…goddamnit, Allstate Arena, and any daytime Cubs game provide all the proof you need.

Just another musing on the column:  If Russo/McMahon are the Beatles and Steph/Gewirtz/Heyman are the Dave Clark Five, does that make the Revivial of ECW “Glad All Over”?

There are certain guys who can pull off the Spandex bike shorts thing.  Unfortunately, I’m not one of them, and apparently neither is Daniels.  More pity to us.  Just remember that in Greek statuary, all of the gods were depicted with normal-sized genitalia.

I’m perfectly allowed to pimp Bower, being ex-Smarks and all, so he gets one.

Too lazy, cheap, or exhausted to watch King of the Ring, like I was?  Hell, Keith and Widro have that sucker buttoned up completely.


What makes me think that the merger of two wildfires in Arizona on Sunday is going to be more successful for their purpose than HP and Compaq’s merger?

The head of household for the King of Swaziland said that any women who wore trousers in the capital would have them “ripped off by soldiers” due to the fact that trousers on women was disrespectful to tradition.  You know, if the US Army offered perks like this, I might still be in.

So Osama bin Laden and Mullah Omar are still alive, huh?  What a huge surprise.  That’s the hallmark of military operations led by a Bush:  long foreplay, premature ejaculation, and an extended period of “Sorry, Honey, I Guess I Was Too Nervous” afterward.  Panama, Iraq, and now Afghanistan, all major credits on the combat leadership capability of the Bush family.  And people wonder why no one’s afraid of the US military anymore.  Speaking of the previous statement…

I’ve received a couple letters lately wondering where the political attacks have gone.  Well, that’s a fair question.  They’ve been here and there, but I’ve reduced the frequency on purpose (and, yes, the big green happy pills and my work problems have had something to do with that as well).  I’m reserving a lot of my energy for September and October, when I start kicking into overdrive for mid-term elections.  So, in a couple months, I’ll start detailing the evils of the Dubbaya Junta and the fact that only a Democratic congress can stop them from taking away our precious civil liberties.  Be patient.  Timing is everything, you know.


On Saturday, for the first time in dog’s years, Cartoon Network broadcast a cartoon featuring Speedy Gonzales, banished from the airwaves due to Political Correctness Run Amuck.  Looking over their schedule, I notice that they’re planning broadcasts of cartoons that were judged to be offensive to women and Native Americans.  Has the insanity really ended?  Or is it that Brad Siegel just doesn’t give a f*ck about anything?  We wrestling fans already Siegel’s near-infinite capacity for not giving a f*ck, so it definitely is a possibility.  However, I’d like to take the optimistic view for once and declare the Age of Political Correctness over and done with.  So don’t get pissed off if I offend you about some remark that I make concerning September 11th or Dubbaya or things like that, because it’s not fashionable anymore.  I said so.

Some sports quickies?  Sure!


The World’s Greatest Tennis Tournament is turning into a dull-fest even as it’s just beginning (especially since Little Miss I Make Ten Mil A Year And Have Never Won A Damn Tournament has taken her usual first-round gas pipe).  All of the airwave time devoted to it seems to concentrate on two questions:  1) Can anyone prevent another Venus/Serena final? and 2) Other than Agassi, who are the people in the men’s draw and where did they come from?  The answers to those are as follows:  1) Only Jen-Jen, if she’s at the top of her game and 2) Who gives a f*ck?


So Lefty pulled one out.  Big deal.  You Know Who wasn’t there, so it doesn’t count.  You can win all of the Greater Whatever Opens you want in your career, but if the Man isn’t there, no one’s watching.  Wait until you get your ass across the pond, Phil.  Then you can smile again coming off the 18th and get your second-place check, all while cursing the fates that He lives at the same time you do.  Just ask Karl Malone, Charles Barkley, et al.

Speaking of things made uninteresting by lack of competition, let’s turn to Raw and the Short Form.  As usual, Scott and PK have more details, but I’m more fun to read.


Match Results:

Billy Brass Knucks and Chris Harvard over Bradshaw and Spike Dudley (Pinfall, Harvard pins Bradshaw, rollup):  Here’s the problem:  they’re so desperate to prove the Reuters article (and every wrestling writer on the Net) wrong by creating new stars that they’re beginning to push them down our throats.  You want to cause more alienation among the fans?  This is the way to do it.  Of course, I’m not the best judge of this particular push, being a graduate of a university that has more Nobels than Harvard, as good a reputation in economics, almost as good a reputation in law, and a damn sight better rep in science, so I’m not impressed with the whole Harvard mystique.

Eddy Guerrero over Buh Buh Ray Dudley (Pinfall, rollup):  Okay, complete crap for a match, but the Benoit run-in was worth all of the shit moments.  Hell, any appearance by Benoit is worth all of the shit moments on Raw…well, not all of them, but a good portion.

Tommy Dreamer over Raven, Loser Leaves Raw Match (Pinfall, DVD):  I dunno, it just doesn’t seem the same without Beulah.  God knows that Raven wishes he was back in ECW.  He never had to suffer through the indignity of being punked out by Matt Hardy.  Or, for that matter, getting pinned by Dreamer.

The Undertaker over Jeff Hardy, Non-Title Match (Pinfall, Last Ride):  Next.  Well, next week, actually, for the Ladder Match rematch…oh, this is too sick to talk about.  Let’s move on to the tits, shall we?

Trish Stratus and Linda Miles over Molly Holly and Jackie Gayda (Pinfall, Trish pins Molly, Stratusfaction):  I’ve admitted a number of times that I’ve never seen an episode of Tough Enough, so I didn’t know anything about Linda or Jackie before this.  However, let me admit this:  they meshed really well with Trish and Molly.  In fact, the whole match was of damn good quality considering how green half the competitors were (and how female all of them were, if you want to be snobbish about it).  The women in-ring performers seem to be the only ones who are obviously displaying the fact that they’re having fun right now.  That’s one thing that makes women’s matches on Raw a favorite of mine right now.  They’re not going through the motions or mailing it in.  It’s easier to overlook technical deficiencies when that much joy in competition is displayed.

The Big Show and X-Suck over Booker T and Goldust (Pinfall, TBS pins Goldust, chokeslam):  This match should be included in the textbook for Heat Preservation 101.  It’s a near-archetypal example of a match booked in a proper manner to preserve and extend the heat of participants on the edge.  Booker isn’t involved in the decision.  The NWO B-Team gets a much-needed win.  Goldust gets lots of crowd-popping moments.  The match wasn’t the greatest, but it successfully did what it was designed to do.  You can’t say that about much in WWE these days.

Rob Van Dam over Brock Lesnar, Intercontinental Title Match (DQ, Heyman-ference):  Ugly mismatch, but not offensive.  And if anyone complains about this being the main event of Raw, you’re a brainwashed idiot.  Just the fact that this match was the main event of Raw is something to be happy about.  They might be finally seeing the light and realizing that they can’t keep sucking off the dead tits of their so-called “money superstars” forever…nah, this is Vince we’re talking about.  He’ll keep sucking away.  But it’s the aberrant moments like this that give me joy.

Angle Developments:

Ruthless People:  Another bizarre opening promo courtesy of Vince, Shawn, and Nash deciding to play “Who’s The Heel Now?”.  It’s a very common problem in WWE promos right now, switching from heel to face and back multiple times in the same promo in an effort to become an “edgy tweener”.  However, I don’t think it’s been done at such a fast pace as this before.  I thought their heads were going to start spinning like Linda Blair.  Actually, that would have been more fun than that promo.  Thank God Booker was there to save the day.

The Crock ‘o Shit Hunter:  It could have been worse.  He could have dressed up as Stitch.

Lesnar Talks!:  So the man has a voice after all.  He’ll be ready to cut his own promos soon.  That should end the Goldberg comparisons nicely, since Goldie couldn’t cut a good promo to save his own ass.


Well, jack shit, really, after the double whammy of the last ten days.  There are some Heat results, but I’m sure Ashish already has them up even as I type this.  I can’t even get on to the site right now to refresh the pimps I did earlier and check what’s been posted, so I hesitate to put anything here in case it’s already been put up.  I’ll catch up on the pimps tomorrow, so don’t feel slighted if you didn’t get mentioned.

As for what else is going to be here tomorrow, there’s definitely going to be You’re a Moron and, due to massive requests, a guide to basic piracy, along with Smackdown spoilers and commentary and various and other sundry things depending on what happens in the news today.  Until tomorrow, enjoy yourselves.