Wrestling News, Opinions, Etc. 12.09.03

Oh, it’s another one of those days.  I had one technician out with the flu, so it was “stick around until everything ended” time yet again, thus leaving me less than a half hour to scribble something before Raw gets on.  My paperwork is slowly driving me batshit (okay, not a long trip as things go, but still).  Fucking Fleabag quotes from the Paul Simon songbook, and it happens to be the exact damn Simon song that was playing when I pulled into the parking lot at my apartment, which scares me to no end, because if there’s one person I don’t want programming my life, it’s Flea (and, yes, I’ll have a goddamn column in this week, I promise).  And I just found out that a good friend of mine back in Chicago has been diagnosed with the very, very early stages of breast cancer (early enough that the biopsy actually took most of the cancerous cells out).  So, I am not in a pleasant mood at this moment, not to mention rushed.

I’d be doing a Pimp Section here, except that Nute disqualified himself.

Let’s check out some of this shit before I do Raw, okay?


My Beautiful and Beloved told Playboy no.  Therefore, glimpses of her true charms are still restricted only to me.  You’ll have to get your masturbation fantasies elsewhere, you pathetic losers.

However, if you think about it, she’s not really the Playboy type, is she?  Yeah, the legs are absolutely perfect, but she’s a little light in the ballast section for one of Hef’s models.  When I think “Playboy centerfold”, my thoughts go to the ultimate in that area, Candy Loving, the woman who appeared gatefolded twenty-five years ago this month.  37-24-34, blond/blue, 5’7″, 110 pounds of Midwest Farmer’s Daughter, most of that in the breasticle area.  Of course, twenty-five years ago this month, I had just turned fourteen and would have crawled through a shag carpet composed of broken glass and Albert’s back hair to be within twenty feet of Candy Loving.  But she’s still one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen pictorialized.

It’s strange how, for a good portion of American men, our ideals woman-wise come from Playboy.  Yeah, it’s objectification, but it’s objectification in a good way, if you understand what I mean.

Okay, back to My Beautiful and Beloved.  She’s a little too tall, a little too flat, definitely not the Playboy type.  I’m sure that Hef would have loved to get another sales figure like he had with Chyna, but that’s not the woman to do it with.  The ideal Playboy type on the WWE roster is, of course, Trish, but she’d never do that (imagine Star 80 with Hyatte as Eric Roberts’ character…that’s where that’d go).  Torrie’s already done it, so she’s out unless she gets another boob job or something.  Aw, hell, who else could there be that would be appropriate?  I’ll let all of you think about that one.  Unlike you, I’m not obsessed with this subject or anything.


From the Torch’s ultra-secret VIP section:

WWE management remains very high on John Cena’s look and charisma, but feel he has a lot to learn as a wrestler. Despite that, WWE plans to work around his average wrestling ability and push him as a hot act since they believe he can bring in good money now.

This is news?  WWE’s had their best business taking marginally-talented people and exploiting their charisma, from Hogan to UT to Austin (WWF/E-era Austin, not the talented-with-infinite-potential WCW Austin) to Flex to Foley, with many others between.  So the fact that they’re doing this with Cena boils down to ramping up the old formula rather than being some sort of revelation that we should all bow down and worship Keller for bringing us.

Besides, Cena is more talented as a wrestler than any of the people I mentioned above.  His problem is that of perception.  He has a gimmick that encourages a brawler-type rather than a ring scientist.  He’s also on the same roster as Chris Benoit, Kurt Angle, Eddy Guerrero, Rey Misterio…you know, great ring technicians (although Misterio’s being used more and more as a spot artist, just as he was in the latter WCW stages).  He suffers in comparison to them.  If he was on the Raw roster, he’d be one of the better ring technicians there, definitely on the level of a Christian or a Booker T.

John Cena shouldn’t be pigeonholed into that “tons of charisma, no talent” path that this piece of complete crap implies.  He’s a lot more than that, and the moment that WWE gives him the opportunity to show that he does have some technical ability, it’s going to happen.  So don’t read anything into this; it’s just another leak to Keller done for some unknown purpose (motivation?) that sends a message to Cena and reassures his fan base that he’s not going anywhere.


Here’s another masterpiece from the Torch’s VIP section:

Paul Heyman is said to be much more diplomatic with agents and talent backstage since returning to WWE TV. While he remains just a “creative consultant,” he has definitely been involved in the creative process especially regarding his own character.

So, a guy’s in a better mood because he’s given something to do at his job instead of being stuck with nothing.  So, a guy’s in a better mood because he has undeniable talents in certain areas that weren’t being utilized by his employers, and now they are.  What a big surprise!  Well, maybe it’s a surprise to you if you’ve never held a job in your life.  I can tell you this:  I know what Heyman’s going through better than most people.  Despite the fact that I’m being treated the way I am here, I’m happier now than when I was working back in Chicago at a place where my job description changed in full five times in a year.  That’s because I’m working in a job where my talents are better suited.  Also, because I have a pissload of power to go along with it, which is another factor in Heyman’s happiness.  Let’s face it, Paul E. and I are alike in a lot of respects.  Except for the fact that I have a full head of hair and my sexual tendencies don’t tend toward Chinese boys.


This time from the Torch newsletter, another waste of money that I don’t participate in:

Despite strong rumors a few weeks ago, it does not appear as if EA will be making NWA: TNA video games anytime soon. EA had signed a deal with WCW to make their games shortly before WWE bought out the promotion. Even though WCW games won’t be made now, the wording of the deal likely prohibits EA from making any non-WCW wrestling games until 2005.

That is a weird exclusivity clause, to say the least.  Actually, it’s a mixture of weird exclusivity clauses.  WWE has its contract with THQ for its console crap, so EA can’t do WWE video games, or even games based on WWE-owned properties, like WCW is.  Acclaim would have been in the same boat viz. ECW.  But wouldn’t there have been an out clause in the contract(s)?  If not, wouldn’t it have been in the best interests of EA and Acclaim to negotiate with WWE for a release from the contract when WCW and ECW ceased to exist?  Yes, we all know that Acclaim management has the brains of marmosets, but EA is a little bit different.  They’re venal, amoral, and avaricious (in bad ways), but they know the value of sports properties.  They also don’t have an aversion to blowing money away on getting jack shit back in return (see ea.com and the hundred million down the toilet).  So why haven’t they done a little table talk with anyone from WWE over the past two and a half years to get this contract off their backs and their books?

The only thing I can think of is that EA somehow believed that THQ would make a miscue and come out with a complete dud.  This way, WWE and EA could have pulled a little legal ledgermain to get WWE out of the THQ contract and transfer the WCW contract provisions over to EA.  However, that hasn’t happened.  Now, with TNA established enough for EA to take a chance on developing for them, WWE will make them pay out the wazoo to get out of this.  Better for Johnny R.’s boys to sit back, wait for 2005, and see if TNA survives that long.  If so, they’re in a great position, since TNA will be a much stronger property and less of a risk than it is now.  Plus, with the new generation of consoles scheduled to appear roughly at that time, EA might be in the position to have a wrestling title as a release-date game for the PS3.

Then again, Links 2004 is out for X-Box, so you console freaks don’t have to suffer through Tiger Woods anymore.  Keep your head in the present and don’t speculate.

And speaking of keeping one’s head in the present, let’s see what happened on Raw…


Match Results:

Buh Buh Ray and D-Von Dudley over Chris Crass, Tag Titles Match (Pinfall, Buh Buh Ray pins Christian, 3-D):  Goddamnit, Buh Buh Ray’s still wearing those shorts.  That pretty much ruined the entire match for me.  No matter where he is on the screen, and he’s always there, your eyes just can’t get themselves off of those shorts.  Not even with Trish and Lita involved.  Too bad about the booking; a title switch could have provided the impetus to get a little more out of the Canadian Horndogs angle, or maybe given them a way out of it that could have provided a little dignity to all parties involved.

Dave Batista over Rob Van Dam, Soften Him Up For Randy Match (Pinfall, powerbomb):  Another bit of idiocy ruined this match for me:  Ross attempting to sell Rolling Thunder as a finisher.  Since when?  Rolling Thunder has always been regarded by everyone, going back to ECW, as a Van Dam set-up move or a transition move into yet another one of his numerous spots.  It just provides more evidence in the “JR is Senile” file.  As for the match…hey, look, it’s a match between Batista and Van Dam.  Who cares?

Mark Jindrak and Garrison Cade over Val Venis and Lance Storm, Last Lance Standing Match (Pinfall, Jindrak pins Venis, rollup):  What is it, Canadian Tag Teams Must Job Night or something?  If the story above about Cena is true, then Cade and Jindrak are Cena’s polar opposites:  talented wrestlers who don’t have one iota of personality between them.  Their push is completely out of desperation to create a tag team that can be a viable alternative to the Dudleys.  But, damn, it’s painful to listen to Cade trying to be a heel.  He supposedly learned his craft under Shawn Michaels?  Too bad he couldn’t borrow Michaels’ promo skills for a bit.

Mark Henry, Test, and Big Sump Pump over Poor Booker T, Novocaine Helms, and His Pet Bitch (Submission, Helms submits to Henry, bearhug):  When was the last time you saw a six-man end in a submission?  Weird booking to say the least, but typical of the chaotic mess that they feel every mass match has to turn into.  You kinda get the feeling that this is what trios matches in lucha would be like if Vince bought EMLL.  All in all, nothing much about the match, but since I don’t give a f*ck about five of the six guys in it, I didn’t expect myself to care.

Molly Holly and Victoria (the faces) over Trish Stratus and Lita, Coco Chanel Would Be Proud Match (Pinfall, Molly pins Lita, double-team suplex):  You know, it’s complicated enough having to swallow this Battle of the Sexes match.  But throwing Matt Hardy into the mix just to remind everyone that he was the whole catalyst behind the Evil Bet?  Overkill, especially since this angle was executed without prejudice last week.

Goldberg vs. Kane:  Blew it off.  I was trying to get this column done.

Angle Developments:

Say It With Flowers:  Well, they f*cked the angle over last week, now they f*cked up a way to continue it.  After getting a beatdown with roses, a reconciliation is just…well, hollow, not to mention the fact that it’d make Trish and Lita both seem like brainless bimbos for sticking with those two.  At least My Beautiful and Beloved has the excuse of a contract forcing her to hang around that other Canadian Horndog in the cast.  She’s definitely no bimbo, nosiree.  Aargh, it’s so frustrating to watch something you had so much hope for get pissed away for nothing.  Okay, for a stupid, imbecilic tag match at Armageddon that cannot make Jericho and Christian look good in any way, shape, or form.

However, there’s always someone willing to look on the optimistic side, like the Ravin’ Cajun:

Say what you want about the stupidity of the angle, but the silence of Trish Stratus and Lita during their confrontation with Christian and Jericho combined with holding that one dollar (Canadian) coin up was pretty much perfect for the angle. I sat there watching and thinking that they didn’t need to say anything, and sure enough the writers were smart enough to let one simple action counter the entirety of Jericho’s “heartfelt apology.” Plus, the look on Stratus’ face actually managed to convey everything she could feel in that moment. Take a look at how her expression of disgust never changes when she holds up the coin. Unfortunately, it was combined with the One Face of Doom from Amy Dumas. Now, had they ended it with the two women walking away without a word that might have been dramatically more interesting and would have left the ending open a bit. 

Too bad the entire thing was wasted with a Dudleyz match.

Okay, I’ll give it to Stratus for her facials, but she overdid the disgust a little.  What a f*cking drama queen she is.

Memo To The Guy In The Third Row:  “Bell’s Palsy 3:16”?  A masterpiece of bad taste.  I commend you, sir.

What’s Wrong With A Little Salute?:  You know, there were ways to approach the whole “salute the French flag” situation that wouldn’t have been a gratuitous insult to the French.  How about if Foley pulled out some history lessons?  Salute the flag for Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity, maybe.  How about saying that he’ll salute the flag in tribute to the real French Resistance, true heroes who fought for the freedom of their country under conditions that Americans know nothing about (namely occupation and domination)?  Or would that have been too subtle for the audience?  After all, according to Foley, at least a half a million of them are complete retards who want Austin back.

Well, He Was In The Neighborhood:  Fuck you, Flex, for interrupting a perfectly good beating, especially of Foley, who can make being beaten into a work of art more true than any of your shitty movies.  It did give me time to get some of this column done, though.

Slick Rick tuned into Battlestar Galactica Instead:  Brave man, that Slick One.  Personally, I decided not to destroy the ol’ childhood memories, especially with the Cylons turned into Sevenesque Borg types.  However, he did have a great wrestling comment:

PPV in my home town coming up, and I have no desire whatsoever to attend in person. I attended the last Bash At the Beach to be held in Daytona, and enjoyed the hell out of it (the Russo shoot on Hogan had more than a little to do with that, as did staying in the same hotel as the Nitro Girls). This time, It’s just not worth drivng across town, much less to the coast.

Not with that lineup that they’ve got.  There’s just no reason to care about this one, is there?

And there’s no reason for you to care either.  Haley will soothe your egos tomorrow, while I head over to Black (yes, it will be up, and yes, it does exist).  Something at Flea’s this week, definitely, then on to whatever else.  Until the Round Table, see ya.

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