I have a simple question that may not have such a simple answer. Why is there hardly any managers in pro wrestling anymore? Some of the managers of the past where legends because of what they added to the show like: Bobby Heenan, Jimmy Hart, Mr. Fuji, Slick, Captain Lou, Sherri Martel, Elizibeth, Fonzie, and Paul Bearer. There are almost no managers left in WWE and TNA now and back when wrestling was getting popular you had stables of wrestlers managed by one of the above mentioned managers and it added to the show and made it to where we didn’t have to suffer through interviews with wrestlers who have no mic skills like Bobby Lashley, Kahli, Davari, Kenny, Chuck Palumbo, and the list could go on and on with others in the WWE no to mention some of the TNA wrestlers.
Some of these interviews or “spots” are so bad that I mute the TV instead of listening to them attempt to speak in complete sentences. The WWE even still includes the “with manager” option in its video games but there are no managers to choose from.– Dennis Kiekens
GRUT’s Response:
First of all Dennis it’s “Why ARE there hardly any managers in pro wrestling anymore?” Secondly The Great Khali (h before a, moron) has a manager. You can mince words and call him a translator but we both know he’s a manager. We’ve got that voodoo lady with VKM, translator guy with Khali, Miss Jackie with James Storm, Gail Kim with a bunch of different guys, Christy Hemme with some douche bags, James Mitchell with that new guy who just got hurt, and I could go on forever but I’ve run out of managers currently working.
The reason why more old or skinny guys who know how to cut a promo aren’t used is because they aren’t pleasant to look at. When I for one turn on wrestling I expect to see taut young bodies glistening with oil, both male and female. It’s bad enough I need to see JR and King from time to time uglying up my screen, but I’m pretty sure I’d kill myself and you if I had to look at Captain Lou for more than three seconds at a time. When I was handling my snake during an Abyss vs. Lance Hoyt match I can’t tell you how many times I came close (or close came) when suddenly pasty old James Mitchell and his messed up fingers appeared on my screen. Total turn off.
I don’t care what Bobby Lashley has to say. I could give a damn what Kenny wants to pontificate on. I don’t need to mute the tv not to hear a work, I just get lost in their bulging muscles and soulful eyes. Anyone who watches professional wrestling for anything other than sexual gratification is mentally challenged.
Oh, and Davari gives fantastic promos. Jerk.
