Spain’s SmackDown Report and Review for April 2nd 2015: Post-Mania Begins Now

Hello all. Again, yes, again I come to you with another late article. My reason for doing so this time is that, yesterday, I was transformed from the tender, naive 23 year old that you have all come to love to a gruff, magisterial 24 year old. Actually, it was a quiet relief to realise that, as I become more of an adult, getting older hasn’t become something for me to fear and despise. I was a pretty awesome 23 year old; I aim to have just as much fun at 24.

Anyway, with excuses out of the way, it’s time to Down some Smack.

Wait, no…

The show kicks off with Seth “Motherfuckin'” Rollins, who has earned, oh, I’d say a briefcase full of goodwill from me over the last week, mainly because I was genuinely surprised at the cash-in, considering how much they’d kept telegraphing it. Seth’s flanked by the Authority and oh, bless, they’ve got Big Show’s stupid golden voodoo trophy at ringside. At least none of us have any expectations for Big Show, so it’s not like there’s anything to crush.

And Tom, my sweet, sweet Tom, is back in an announcing position, alongside Byron Saxton and Jerry Lawler. There is such an age gap between those two guys and King that I’m just waiting for Lawler to start flirting with them.

Seth gloats on the microphone, and says that he’s the new Face of the WWE. Careful, Seth: that’s some godawful company you’re putting yourself up there with. Seth suffers from a condition known as ‘unable to sleep on a plane’, so had to unfortunately pass on having his nards ripped off and fed to Lesnar’s pet dragon on Monday. If Brock had kept his cool, Rollins insists, the two of them might have had a title match right here, tonight. There’s not a descriptive enough word to detail just how gigantic of a lie that is, so I’m settling for ‘pefj3ffpo’. My television actually loses signal right then which is, I’m convinced, mute witness to the enormity of Seth Rollins’ bullshit.

When we resurface, Randy Orton’s materialised, and he’s still on about how Seth tried to murder him that one time, and how Orton then tried to murder Seth right back and then the two of them giving the boys in the truck the greatest RKO ever to work with for all future video packages. And, he says, since Lesnar is suspended indefinitely and as Randy Orton never got his one-on-one rematch for the title, he should be first in line. Wow, that is some CM Punk-levels of recollection right there. Seth tells him that he shouldn’t live in the past, despite how Vince wants to run his company, and that he decides what the next title match is, and where, and against who, despite the fact that is literally Triple H’s only job.

Orton makes disparaging remarks about the Authority, culminating in demands for Kane to tell them all what exactly his job description is. Kane responds by putting Orton in a match against Big Show, with a possible title shot on the line. So…Seth definitely isn’t the only guy with a say in title matches. Huh.

Was Sort Of Hoping Lesnar Was Going To Arrive And Murder Everyone

The match kicks off immediately, and Orton gets taken down with a shoulder block. Show puts him in the corner, charging right into him, but on his second attempt he runs into a dropkick. Big Show wants out of the ring, but Randy catches him, hitting his Vintage DDT from the top rope. He calls for the RKO immediately, and J, J and K swarm the ring, creating the DQ.

Well, I was expecting something approaching, you know, a match, so that was a shame. They probably just didn’t want to create any definitive distance between the number one contender and the winner of the Dead Employee Battle Royal. 1.5 Stars, with half a star given solely to Orton’s elbow pads.

So, I guess Seth’s going to be that sort of heel champion: the only sort of heel champion. The boys beat Orton down, although he does rally for a moment before Kane chokeslams him. Ryback, in an ungodly-coloured leotard, makes the save, and the two guys clear the ring, with Ryback Shell-Shocking Noble and Randy RKO-ing Mercury and Kane.

Naomi’s Teeth Are Insanely Bright

Divas action now, and the Bellas are here to awkwardly flirt with the guys on commentary, who really should be more afraid that their multi-time world champion lovers might not take kindly to that sort of thing. And we shall be watching…oh hell yes: Natalya vs. Naomi. Finally, they’ve been told they can’t just hang out with their husbands and wrestle little people; they have to fulfil their contractual obligations.

Apparently, Naomi is going to be presented as our new number one contender, and it’s nice that this didn’t develop into Nikki, Paige and AJ just trading the title between the three of them. By all means, keep Cameron, Summer Rae and Eva Marie out of this, but there is room for more competitors.

Natalya immediately gains control of the arm, which Naomi reverses. Natalya reverses it back; Naomi ducks out of it; both girls hit each other with dropkicks at the same time and both kip-up. Noice.

Headlock to Naomi now, much rougher, and Natalya backs her into the corner before hitting some kind of modified atomic drop off the ropes (I hate it when I have to make up move names), then hits a running dropkick to the face. Punches to Naomi, who covers up and weathers it. Natalya then applies an abdominal stretch; Naomi starts to reverse it, but Natalya’s wise to that, and throws her with a hip toss. Miss Neidhart manages to get Naomi out on the apron, but then eats a roundhouse kick to the side of the head, staggering her.

Beautiful sunset flip by Naomi, but Natalya rolls right out it, aiming for the sharpshooter, only to get small-packaged for two. Naomi then…God, this one doesn’t even have a name: okay, she gets her ankles around Natalya’s head, then spins around so that she can slam the woman’s head off the mat. And that is apparently a finishing a manoeuvre, because that finishes things.

Very well-wrestled match by two of my favourite Divas. Natalya hopefully will get her chance soon, but I’m happy that Naomi’s stepping up to the plate. She’s a talented gal and I’d be interested in seeing more of her personality if she became champ. 3 Stars.

Kane is backstage, wearing his shirt like Mr Darcy and his facial expression like Winston Churchill. Seth comes in to have a giggle about Kane fake-promising Orton a championship match. Kane says that he wasn’t joking; Extreme Rules is a month away and they have, like, no main event, man. Rollins says that the office stinks and leaves, and you just know that Randy’s shit in everything the Authority knows and loves. Rollins leaves, his exit precipitating Ambrose’s arrival, who cheerfully admits that he’s the Mad Pooper (or, alternatively, the Buttler). Kane puts him in a match with Harper, and Dean seems pretty chipper. Yep, it’s not even the end of our post-WrestleMania week, and the WWE is already at the toilet humour stage. Enjoy the next 365 days.

Oh Jesus, Byron interviewed Roman Reigns. See, this is why I don’t love what they’re doing with this guy. Lesnar showed up at the top of RAW, said that lawyers can eat his brobdingnagian penis and that he was going to get the title back from Seth Rollins if he has to kill every single person in the world and hurl Vince McMahon’s withered frame into the sun (I’m paraphrasing, but that literally was the gist). He then attempted to murder Rollins and, when Seth buggered off, he transferred that murder-lust onto anyone who’d been almost sort of near Rollins at the time. Roman is sitting here, doing an interview, saying ‘yeah, Lesnar kicked my ass, but I’m sort of into that now, I guess, and I punched him really hard a couple of times, so go me. And it really sucks that Seth screwed me over in so majestically dickish a fashion, but I get why he did it, and I can and I will beat him, so go me’. It lacks a certain…anything.

I Don’t Like Truth As Much When He Isn’t A Klepto

Aw, here’s Miz, without his bearded life-partner/stalker/impersonator. He’s also facing R-Truth, in a battle of dudes with nothing to recommend them post-Mania. Miz takes control, wrenching the arm, slapping on a headlock and hitting a shoulder-tackle. He runs into a hip toss, and then a big kick to the face. Stinger splash from Truth, but the Scissor Kick is avoided by Miz, who returns a Skull-Crushing Finale pretty much immediately.

I like this, because it was really short and I didn’t have to suffer through it for long. For that reason, it gets 2 Stars.

Suddenly, MizDow is behind Miz, and Skull-Crushes him for a pop before putting on his sunglasses. Man, I’d try and steal his girlfriend, not his eyewear.

Joy of joys, the Champ Is Here. I thought we already sat through this whole thing on RAW. And by ‘sat through’ I mean ‘fast-forwarded past’. He says that he told the world that the US Title will get the respect it deserves. Because Cena will probably pin Rollins in the next few weeks. He says Rusev is the American Dream, and I would pay good money to watch Rusev do a Dusty Rhodes imitation. Cena says America doesn’t suck and…nah, too easy: just watch your news. Or whatever bit of your news isn’t political propaganda or blatant lies. Also, John Cena is your country’s champion, so there’s also that problem.

Cena’s still proud of your country, but he’s also proud of the US Title, which is a joke unto itself. But he’s charitably going to successfully defend his championship against all of our favourite wrestlers. Hah, have fun whoever reviews RAW: you get to report on a John Cena victory every single week.

Lana shows up to protest a weekly John Cena squash, and apparently she and Rusev have made up. Now, there’s a man who knows he’s batting far too much above his average…oh wait, no he doesn’t. You fool, have you seen your hair? Rusev’s getting a rematch at Extreme Rules, and Cena calls him a dumb alcoholic, which seems to do the trick; Rusev approaches the ring and then tries to SUMMON THE FLAG…which doesn’t work. Well, one in every five patriots actually cannot summon the flag. Then Cena summons the American flag, and everyone screams and swoons like they just shared in a mass orgasm. Is that what patriotism looks like?

I Actually Don’t Know Who’s More Likely To Become A Serial Killer Here

Luke Harper and Dean Ambrose make their way to the ring, and Dean starts as the aggressor, punching Harper into the corner and laying him down with a back elbow from the top rope. He lays down some elbows and clotheslines, but gets pushed away and Harper’s right on him, slamming some fists and uppercuts into his face. Ambrose fires back, hitting a kick to the face and launching himself at Harper in a crossbody, but Harper catches him and flings him out of the ring!

Back from the break, Harper has Dean held, but Ambrose breaks out. Harper tosses him into the corner and wants a big boot, but Ambrose ducks, and Harper falls out of the ring. Dean dives out onto Harper, who shoves him away, but Dean reverses direction on the ring apron and hits his clothesline! Ambrose throws Harper back into the ring, and hits his standing elbow drop from the top rope for two. Ambrose stays on Harper, right until he runs into a huge big boot. Harper wants a powerbomb, only for Ambrose to reverse it and low-bridge Harper out of the ring.

Dean follows Harper out, but gets tossed into the timekeeper’s area. The big bearded man clears off an announce table, only for Ambrose to jump him, try to put him through the table and get slammed into the steel ring post, right before he gets put the fuck through the table. Damn.

Awesome match, with lots of move-countermove going on. Exciting and at a good pace, with a hardcore ending. 3 Stars.

We get a talk from the Prime Time Players, who seem to want a feud against with the New Day. I think it’s safe to say that there’s very little that I could care about less than this.

Sheamus Is Living Proof That There Are Irish Men Out There You Don’t Want To Sleep With

Alright, it’s time for our main event. And, hell, they gave Sheamus some kick-ass new music, although I’ll admit to missing ‘lobsterhead’ already. The crowd chants ‘You Look Stupid’ and that’s probably because ‘You Look Like Our Local Crack Dealer’ is more complicated a chant. Sheamus says that he attacked Bryan on RAW, because he can. Apparently he’s a ‘real man’, which in this context means ‘taller than other guys’. Sheamus says that he’s not here for us; he’s here to crush our hopes and dreams. Wow, he’s either way more capable than I assumed, or he doesn’t really have a handle on ‘my hopes and dreams’. He’s going after the small guys, which I guess will last for all of a month before he becomes another generic heel.

Bryan then shows up, and when we come back from the break, Bad News Barrett’s at ringside, yelling ‘bugger off’ at the ring crew. I refuse to not like this man, despite what BD tells me. Sheamus and Bryan approach, and this a singles match now, due to Ziggler being unable to compete. Daniel kicks Sheamus in the corner, but Sheamus overpowers him, hitting some blows himself before Bryan comes back with some kicks. Sheamus throws Daniel into the corner and then takes his head off with a clothesline. Uppercuts keep knocking Bryan down, and then he takes some knees to the chest. Sheamus keeps calling him ‘Danny Boy’, which is both smart and funny. Bryan whips Sheamus to the ground via the leg, and then slams fist after fist into Sheamus’ face. The Irishman cools his heels on the outside for some time before coming back in, and takes a lot of kicks to the chest when he comes back, before hitting a huge backbreaker.

As we come back from the commercial break, Sheamus is in control of Bryan, getting him up in the air for a suplex and then just dropping him onto his legs. The Irishman yells ‘are you not entertained?!’, and if he keeps doing these references, I’m going to have to almost like the guy. Big uppercut leaves Bryan slumped in the corner, but when Sheamus talks smack, Bryan fires back up, laying hands on Sheamus as he comes out of the corner, backflipping off the turnbuckle and putting Sheamus down with a clothesline. Both men reach their feet, and Sheamus is elevated over the top rope to the outside. Bryan dives through the ropes onto him, and then comes off the top in a missile dropkick to knock Sheamus down in the ring.

Big kicks to the chest of Sheamus, but he catches the last one, looking for White Noise. Bryan himself counters into the Yes Lock, and when he can’t apply it, he drop toe-holds Sheamus into the turnbuckle, face-first. Bryan goes up top again, but Sheamus catches and crotches him before he can do anything. Sheamus hits uppercut after uppercut to Daniel before bringing him down to the mat, hitting a wild-looking neckbreaker. Ten Beats of the Whosit is blocked by Bryan, who returns the favour with some headbutts. Sheamus finally creates separation, shoving Bryan off the apron and in front of announce tables.

Bryan’s bloody when he gets up, and he either bladed or legitimately broke the skin of his own forehead whilst headbutting Sheamus. Bad News takes advantage, laying Bryan out with a Bull Hammer as the referee’s distracted. Upon picking up his headset again, Barrett tells the commentators, ‘stay cool, lads’. Oh my God, this guy. The trainer arrives to look at Bryan’s head, and where were you when Brock was bleeding?! Sheamus tries to drag him back into the ring, realises that that’s just creating more work for himself, and goes back inside to claim the count-out victory.

Sheamus’ new moves are interesting, although I’m still reserving judgement. Last thing I expected was for anyone to get colour here; I can only imagine it was an accident. Decent match. 2.5 Stars.

We had a great RAW to kick off the new wrestling calender, and it’s a shame that this show couldn’t have been of that standard. It was fine and all, but it was a lot of talking and not that much to write home about. Seven.

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