Before I get started…
Actually, before I get started, let me answer some questions my loyal readers might have:
Yes, I hate the new comments section too.
Yes, We found the power adapter thingy for the laptop.
Yes, my chest does itch from when I shaved it two weeks ago.
Yes, I really did shave my chest two weeks ago.
The gym is going well, thank you.
Kind of hungry, but good overall.
A Florida Gators t-shirt.
I can’t believe those bastards at NBC are thinking of shelving Community either.
Okay, now onto the usual preamble.
You know what? The rest of what I have to say would work better in the column. Let’s go.
Suspension Of Disbelief begins… Now!
I kind of hated The InVasion.
No, wait.
I really hated The InVasion. I’ll explain:
2001 really, really sucked for me. It sucked bad. The suckeditude started in late 2000 when I got booed off the stage along with my buddy Jeff during a “talent show” that specialized in hip-hop and R & B acts. We performed a song over The Notorious B.I.G.’s “Hypnotize” called, “Eye Contact,” in which my verse went:
I’m trying to fight but homegirl’s shirt’s too tight
Make me wanna get to know her now I’m talking real right
Trying to avoid her man and possibly a real fight
Cuz if I can’t I’m gonna hafta catch a mean flight
Tonite’s the night baby girl so tell me what’s up
Cuz this NYK fan wants to get to know your d-cups
(i forget the next part)
Something something “feenin’ for your valley cuz your mountains showing thru”
(the next part is fuzzy)
then it ended with (and this is where it relates to wrestling) “But we ain’t gon’ sleep together, we’ll be UP! ALL! NIGHT!”
So yeah, that was my verse, and if you couldn’t tell, the entire song is about how, back in high school and the first couple of years afterwards, I was awful at making eye contact with nice-racked (breastly endowed? mammarily gifted? i don’t know which one to use and i just know I’m hemorrhaging readers the longer i debate this) girls. I blamed the condition not on a lack of couth, but rather a lead plate in my forehead that caused my head to drop.
We got booed off the stage.
That was how I ended 2000 and went barreling into 2001. The Giants lost Superbowl XXXV to Ravens in a lopsided ass-whoopin’, the Knicks lost to the Raptors…
(hang on a second, I have to stare bitterly into the distance)
(still staring…)
(…still staring…)
(…and we’re back)
…not to mention how bad rap sucked for the first maybe 8 or 9 months of that year. I was sick to death of the godawful Swizz Beatz/Mannie Fresh digital crap synth “bounce” sound that was omnipresent.
My then-girlfriend and I had a lousy year, going on a “break” (that I’m pretty sure turned into one of those Ross’n’Rachel, screaming fight, “BUT WE WERE ON A BREAK!” breaks), and we broke up in late August with a whimper.
Our backyard wrestling federation had hit the skids something fierce for a variety of reasons. Also, our house was foreclosed on and my father had to file for bankruptcy in order to keep our home.
So there was that.
Through it all, or through the majority of it, I had wrestling. The WWF was still there, Stone Cold was back from Rikishi running him over, The Rock was there, HHH was there, The Undertaker was still surprising everyone with his skills, and the first 2 hours or so of WrestleMania X7 was espectacular.
And then Vince McMahon handed Stone Cold a steel chair.
It was at that point where the curse of 2001 found its way to the World Wrestling Federation. Stone Cold attempted to turn heel by bafflingly joining forces out of nowhere with Vince McMahon (nonsensical) to hit his rival of four years, The Rock, with a steel chair (annoying and cluttering up a good match, but no reason to hate him), in motherfucking TEXAS, where Stone Cold was a friggin’ GOD at the time (anything short of him slapping a paraplegic war veteran in the front row would be cheered and accepted).
Those are not ideal conditions for your most beloved anti-hero in company history to try to get the fans to turn on him.
So that sucked, and teaming him up with Triple H instead of having Hunter take up the fight against Austin sucked even worse, and then in the middle of him being all bad and junk, they kick off The InVasion.
And here’s where we start the stream-of-conscious rambling on The InVasion.
1- The two biggest stars WCW had, the two stars they had that could be inserted in main event feuds when the time was right–Diamond Dallas Page and Booker T.–were immediately thrown to THE ROCK AND THE UNDERTAKER. Lopsidedly thrown, at that. DDP got destroyed by ‘Taker, and Booker T. was almost irreparably damaged by The Rock’s verbal arsenal (“Booker T., what’s 2+2? THOMAS JEFFERSON, SUCKA!” was absolutely brilliant and may wind up engraved on my urn after I die, just so you know).
2- The ECW Curse was in full effizect. “What ECW curse?” you ask? The ECW curse where I had been hearing and reading how incredibly amazingly awesome ECW was for years and years only to see them in a WWF ring and, when they got the chance to shine, do… not much at all. R.V.D. is the best example of this. It was RVD this, that, and the other thing, but when he made his Federation debut I couldn’t have been less impressed–and ya’ll should know by now that I’m not That Guy who pretends to be underwhelmed just to be a douche. The crowds at live events went nuts, and maybe they were familiar with his ECW work, but my guess is they were people who had seen or heard how incredible he was and just went with it despite visual proof of the averageness.
3- “Let The Bodies Hit The Floor.” Um, no. The song was really mean and way too aggressive and I hated it for the Alliance’s entrance music.
4- Evil Stephanie McMahon. Stephanie… *sigh* I’ve never gotten over her marrying Triple H. Never, ever. I loved her so much during the “Referring to Test as ‘Andrew'” days, so for her to get a boob job and pal around with that snotty bastard Hunter, I was crushed. Then this fake-boobed villain got all growly and sounded like a loud alley-cat. No thanks. Also, yes, I know I just posted lyrics championing big boobs, but I was talmbout real boobs, not the fake kind. I’m not knocking the hustle. I’m just a purist.
5- Stone Cold and Kurt Angle fighting to take Vince to the prom. That’s what that was, right?
6- The lack of clearly defined stakes. This is what infuriated me to no end. WCW and ECW together represented some kind of threat, right? What was it, exactly? The only time I remember them even trying to say why the InVasion was bad was a hastily done speech given by Farooq (that, if I recall correctly, had him start one beat after the cameras were on with a jarring “Uh, Okay guys, listen up…”) that only vaguely touched on how their jobs were at stake. So, again, what in God’s name were they fighting for? And how the hell would the potential outcome been any different from what they did a few months later with the Brand Extension?
And there you have it.
The InVasion ended, mercifully, at Survivor Series 2001. I was happy to see it go, and shortly after that Stone Cold returned to being awesome, ending that whole series of nonsense. Looking back, I wish Vince and everyone involved would’ve treated it as a launching pad for a few more months of feuds and the impetus for the brand extension rather than treating like 8 months of developments and storylines as a giant “WE GOT THE BASTARDS!” victory lap in the faces of everyone who worked for WCW.
You know who I really feel bad for now that it’s all over?
La Parka, who remains, to this day, the most underrated performer in the history of professional wrestling.
Call Reynolds, Cuz it’s a Wrap.
Alright kids, that’s it for this week. I hope you enjoyed the post.
If you have a specific memory that stands out from The InVasion angle, or if you want to tell me about some awesome move R.V.D. did back at a Hammerstein Ballroom show in 1998, or if you want to give me mad props about my dope lyrics, g’on and do that in the new and…
…
…uh, “improved” comments section.
Thanks for checking in.
This has been Suspension of Disbelief.
–Rey
Rey Mundo gets a kick out of these signature things. He also thinks the cute girl at the movie theater should totally hang out with him.
