Before I get started…
You remember that scene in American Pie 2 where Jim is getting it on with a girl and he says, “This is my first time… since my first time… So if this isn’t good…?” Then eventually he finds the holiest of holeys (that’s TWO movie references in the first paragraph, kids) and goes, “Ohh yeah. Now I remember?” Well, that, but in Inside Pulse Writing format.
That’s right, kids. The Rey to the miggity miggity Mundo is back for this year’s RumbleMania season. I might’ve missed the lead-in to Rock vs Punk at the Royal Rumble, and then the lead-in to Elimination Chamber, but in my defense, I also missed way more since last year’s WrestleMania exorcism.
But we’ll get into that.
Here’s a short version on where I’ve been, in handy dandy number order!
1- Transferred to a new department at work and subsequently got my ass handed to me. I’m good at what I do, but that was a whole new animal and said animal asserted its dominance, and then feasted on my entrails.
2- For a couple months during the summer, I actually had a girlfriend. Yep, a real live girlfriend, with accessible boobs and everything. You’d think this would be a major coup (*salutes Major Coup*), but we ended up being a lousy fit.
3- The muse had just plain left me. It’s not like Rocky won down in Miami and I just dropped the mic like I was Randy Watson. I just didn’t have anything to say about most things. I’ve always written, from elementary school straight through until now, at 32-and-a-half years old (yes, I’m still counting the halves. Keep it up and I’ll start saying my age in months), but the last couple of years have seen me at a very demanding job and I think the way I deal with the stress is to avoid everything else that is considered a “Have to.” Gym, Writing, and my poor room. Seriously, my quarters look like a truck delivering Star Wars paraphernalia slammed into a Big and Tall store and exploded.
So yeah, all that stuff converged and that’s why you guys haven’t heard from me in like 9 months. I hope nothing has changed around here. I can, however, tell you one thing that has NOT changed: Kelly Floyd. Hey. Hey girl. How YOU doin’?
Suspension of Disbelief begins… Now!
All right, so let’s set the scene. It’s the night after WrestleMania. The Rock has celebrated his victory over Equensu Orcha John Cena. The crowd just WON’T STOP YELLING YES, and Brock Lesnar (aka Cock Loser, aka Bork Laser) comes out and F-5’s the leader of the Chain Gang into next Thursday…
…and that was about it for me until pretttttyyy much the fall.
Sure, I checked in and kept up and junk, made sure I saw most of the pay per views, but for the first time in years and years, I wouldn’t bother watching Raw or Smackdown. I just plain didn’t like what they were doing.
I didn’t care about Daniel Bryan and his stupid Yes chant.
I didn’t like C.M. Punk, who seems to have the mutant ability to be completely insufferable when trying to play a role. He was great as Pipe Bomb truth teller, but then he became a pandering face. Even worse, when he turned heel after pearl harboring The Rock at Raw 1,000, he became a pandering “YOU PEOPLE” style baddie. The guy is at his best when he truly is indifferent about your reactions to him. Boo, Cheer, whatevs, bruh.
I didn’t care about Team Hell No (at first).
I didn’t care about A.J. – Wait, check that. I still don’t care about A.J., even though her bra was totally shown on an episode of Smackdown a few weeks ago. #Shameless
I didn’t care about a lot of the product, and as anyone even remotely intelligent about the viability of a Pro Wrestler, indifference is the kiss of death. It’s the “Friend Zone” of Sports Entertainment. You’re just there, sorta, but the moment someone comes along that provokes a reaction, you’re gone faster than my best friend’s hairline.
(Sorry Joe, had to be done)
So what did I do then? Simple. I stopped watching.
I didn’t watch and complain. I didn’t watch and fire off angry tweets, touts, notes, blogs, Facebook statuses, or whatever the 19 people on Google Plus do. I just didn’t watch. I did other things. I went to bed early, I made plans on Monday nights, I studied up on Faye Reagan’s oeuvre… I just plain took a break from the WWE.
(A real break, not a crazy Rachel Green break where you are or aren’t allowed to bang other girls.)
This seemed like a good idea. Overall I enjoy pro wrestling for the escape and the entertainment and for those moments where it inspires and motivates. I don’t get too caught up in Where This Is All Going, I tend to not freak out when a bad finish happens, and I almost always give the benefit of the doubt that the story will unfold in satisfying fashion, even if I have to fill in the logic gaps with frog DNA.
(I’m on reference overload. Don’t worry, I’ll go with alliteration in the next column.)
The thing is..
The reception of the Royal Rumble and the anger over The Rock winning the WWE Championship and the preemptive bashing of WrestleMania XXIX (an event I will FINALLY get to be at – tweet me at @ElKatook if you’re gonna be there and we’ll take pictures and Touts of us doing the Prime Time Players “Millions of Dollars” shuffle) really bugged me. It’s not that I thought the match was great and I was annoyed no one else did. It wasn’t that I was upset that people didn’t like that The Rock was the WWE Champion. It bugged me because the Spoiler Alert crowd had already decided that they didn’t want Rock vs Cena II, and were absolutely going to shit all over it in a fit of petulant belligerence.
Mind you, I know this is because people are so very sick of John Cena being John Cena and doing stupid and illogical and corny John Cena things and not so much about The Rock, but it still leads me to my point: If you are THIS angry… If you’ve made up your mind that you’re going to hate something TWO MONTHS AWAY… If you’re so disillusioned and disappointed…
Why are you still watching?
This isn’t an unfair question, and I’m sure the snarky snarks are already preparing their oh-so-witty comeback of, “I ask myself that question every Monday night! OH HO HO HO HO HO!” like they’re those two old muppets in the balcony, but yeah.
Why are you still watching?
Me? I got tired of the product for a bit. I got burned out. I don’t even remember what happened between, say, Brock vs Cena at Extreme Rules and maybe Hell in a Cell. I know Bork Laser broke Triple H’s arm. I know AJ became more annoying than… I don’t even know, the analogy well is dry. I know things got really stupid for a while and I just plain checked out.
So now we’re on The Road To WrestleMania. We are headed to MetLife Stadium and hopefully the rumored and teased now triple threat match between WWE Champion The Rock, Royal Rumble winner John Cena, and 400+ day scorned former champ CM Punk. I can get behind this match and think that, if each man plays up to their strength and to their segment of the audience, the build up can be fantastic to the point where each wrestler’s fan base will provide the necessary allegiance and emotion to really enjoy the match. Take a gander:
- CM Punk has the snarky smarks – those super cliche internet dudes that hate stuff that gets popular, that championed Zack Ryder until he became a thing, who stream pay-per-views illegally and don’t support the stuff they do like forcing The Powers That Be to go with lowest common denominator nonsense and last second changes because they piss and moan about rumors and scare the office. Yeah, those guys.
- John Cena still has the kids, the military dudes, the south, and the women folk that want some and will most definitely come get some.
- The Rock has the casual fan, the people that loved him from back in the day, and the folks like me who admire and appreciate his reinvention as a motivator.
That’s pretty much every type of fan WWE has, the three ring circus approach that will hopefully all be represented in the main event of WresteMania XXIX in New Jersey. I will be there with some of my most cherished and closest friends. I will be there with my younger brother, who will be flying out from San Diego to be there with me when I cross ‘Mania off my bucket list. I will be there because it’s a lifelong desire come true, and I am incredibly grateful to be able to go.
As for the rest of the people there, I hope the acronym goes from We Whine about Everything…
…to We’ll Watch and Enjoy.
This has been Suspension of Disbelief.
Rey Mundo is 390 months old.
