Colette Arrand

Tag: Alberto Del Rio

  • Wrestling Review: Lucha Underground (2/18/15)

    Wrestling Review: Lucha Underground (2/18/15)

    It’s been awhile since I checked on Lucha Underground in this space, but that train has kept moving just fine. Their finely crafted blend of plot, action, and background has served them well and continues to as they take on new roster members like Texano, former AAA Mega Champion, and Alberto el Patrón, the man formerly known as Alberto Del Rio. They’re well past the stage now where they have to keep explaining what makes their brand different (the luchadores, the rules, the fact that men can fight women) and just keep pressing on. It’s really impressive, seeing what they do with an hour of television every week, and given the storylines that’ve been simmering since Prince Puma won the Lucha Underground Championship, I wouldn’t at all be opposed to something like an NXT Takeover special out of them, to see how Lucha Underground functions as a live show where all the stories converge and resolve.

    That won’t be happening anytime soon, though, so it’s best to appreciate what we have. Matt Striker and Vampiro don’t have much time to talk, as the first match is part of a bookended main event, Chavo Guerrero, Jr. finally facing Mil Muertes over Guerrero’s betrayal of the man of 1,000 deaths some months ago. It’s fortunate for Guerrero that it took so long for this match to happen, as Muertes is without Catrina, his second, who has in her possession a stone that is capable of controlling the big luchador in a way that’s similar to The Undertaker’s urn. Where Muertes was a big, bruising destroyer a few months ago, he’s more vulnerable now, and the crafty, youngest Guerrero is able to pick his spots throughout. He spends the majority of the contest working on Muertes’ leg, which is smart little guy vs. big guy strategy, but Muertes, distracted or not, is still a hulk. Something I like about him (about Lucha Underground in particular, as well as NXT), is that something as simple as a punch is still treated with respect. The referee doesn’t reprimand Muertes for using them, but each one he lands on Guerrero is a bomb.

    The story of this match is less about what Chavo Guerrero did to Mil Muertes (who once threatened that all of Mexico would be coming for him, a prophecy that is thus far untrue) than it is about Muertes’ seeming aimlessness without Catrina. So she comes out to the ring, carrying Muertes’ stone. He doesn’t notice her for awhile, powering Chavo around the ring, but when he does he can’t look away. This lets Chavo go to his pal, the steel chair, and nail Muertes with it, causing a disqualification. This does not, however, faze Muertes, who now easily dominates his opponent, hitting him with a flatliner on the chair. He wants Catrina to get into the ring to lick Chavo, which was once their post-match ritual (instead of calling it the “kiss of death,” they’ve decided to stick with the much more literal “lick”), but she refuses. This makes Mil Muertes angry enough to grab Catrina by the hair and bring her into the ring, where it looks like he is going to hit her with the flatliner until Fenix rescues her. His reward is a kiss from Catrina. Look at how jazzed he is for that kiss:

    Catrina Fenix Lucha Underground

    That is one hype dude. Matt Striker speculates that “where the tongue goes, the loyalty goes.” And, yeah, that’s the way it looks. Good broadcast journalism, Matt Striker.

    Lucha Underground does a fair amount of its storytelling via these backstage vignettes that are filmed in hilariously “grimy” television sets. The Temple itself is a set, but they do a fair enough job of rotating new audience members in and out that the studio setting never feels too distracting, even if nobody in the crowd cares about faces or heels, rudos or technicos. Some of the backstage promos, usually ones featuring Dario Cueto, are pretty good. Some, like the ones featuring a sneaky woman sneaking around the Temple in clothes she lifted from The Matrix, are what they are. Angela Fong, who has yet to be given her official Lucha Underground name, gets two segments tonight. Previously, she has been seen hanging out in the audience. She picks locks. She kicks doors in. She sees a cage rattling and is excited because she swore, as a girl, to kill whatever’s inside. Then she gets bagged by an unseen assailant. Lucha Underground is trying something new here, filming wrestling angles like they’re scenes from a film or a television show. It worked well, I thought, in introducing Prince Puma, but here I’m not so sure. What does shooting from the point-of-view of whatever’s in that cage accomplish, beyond preventing us from seeing it? And what do you do with someone like Fong, who is not a wrestler and is not really an actor and who is being asked to deliver some stilted, Saturday afternoon movie dialog? When the monster debuts, will Striker and Vampiro know about it from watching the show on television later, or is this one of those closed universes that exists entirely outside that plausable realm? And, if that’s the case, then how does Matt Striker know about New Japan Pro Wresting’s Wrestle Kingdom 9 if he’s been locked away in the universe of the Temple? I’m overthinking this, especially since this story has gone nowhere so far, but I think that pondering the implications of a somewhat limited, but open, universe is valuable four months into a show like Lucha Underground, which has recently taken to calling itself a league. What’s the wrestling/film ratio, and how much can the show handle away from the ring before it becomes too much? I’d like to know.

    The other backstage segment takes place in Dario Cueto’s office. Evil authority figures are overdone in wrestling, but Cueto is a pretty good one, a man who appears to not care about anything but making money, but who is into some pretty heinous stuff. Case in point, his meeting with The Crew, who now wear matching basketball jerseys with that distinction so that those unfamiliar with the three can tell Cortez Castro, Bael, and Mr. Cisco apart. Cueto is a fan of what they did to Big Ryck a few weeks back, putting out his eye with a cigar. He loved it so much that he’s going to tell his grandchildren about it, when he has grandchildren. Evil stuff. He wants to see The Crew in more main event spots, but feels that they need to prove that blinding Ryck wasn’t a fluke. They’re in the main event tonight, against a trio of “freaks”: Sexy Star, Mascarita Sagrada, and Pimpinela Escarlata. The Temple is open for anybody, but he’s not happy that a woman, a mini, and an exótico are so over with the crowd, and he wants The Crew to take them out. He makes a no-disqualification trios match between those two for later.

    In the ring, Ivelisse lectures her boyfriend Son of Havoc for being a loser and figures that they’d be better of if she fought his battles. She’s not wrong, considering Son of Havoc’s abysmal win/loss/draw record. Ivelisse’s opponent is Angélico, a fellow from South Africa who previously defeated Son of Havoc. I’m all for intergender wrestling, and Ivelisse is an impressive woman whose work I’m not as familiar with as I’d like to be, but this kind of intergender contest, where the man makes like he just can’t hit a woman though she’s hitting him pretty goddamn hard, is more problematic to me than those where the man just destroys the woman. Underdog narratives are one thing, but Angélico’s strategy is to work Ivelisse into a series of dance moves, attempting to kiss her. It’s supposed to be cute, but whatever. Once Ivelisse hits him with a springboard rana, that should get Angélico out of the blocks. It almost does, as he pops Ivelisse into the air with a flapjack, but he plays the role of chivalrous man until Son of Havoc kicks him in the jaw. This sends him stumbling head over heels over a recovering Ivelisse, who takes the win from there with a roll-up. Lucha Underground has constantly touted itself as believing in the equality of men and women in the ring, but the action in its intergender matches thus far has shown that it only goes so far. If Angélico’s refusal to engage with Ivelisse resulted in him getting his head kicked in and a clean victory for her, so much the better. But Ivelisse, despite getting 90% of the offense in this match, can’t win without the help of a dude. It’s the same pattern that’s been established in most of Sexy Star’s matches, the difference being that Ivelisse is a rudo. Equality becoming more of a fact than a talking point would be a nice step forward in the coming weeks.

    Last week, Alberto el Patrón arrived in The Temple, but his debut was spoiled by Texano, who whipped the stunned AAA champion with his bullrope. Before his match against Super Fly, we’re given more of Texano’s story via a pre-taped interview by Vampiro, where he says that he is here to crush Alberto el Patrón and take back the championship he feels was stolen from him. It’s a good interview, showing off Texano’s intensity. Also, they splice in a good amount of footage from Texano’s time in AAA, where he is shown running roughshod over a number of luchadores, and from his feud against Patron. Most of Lucha Underground’s hispanic viewers are already AAA fans and are familiar with his work and the ongoing issue he has with Patrón, but the interview is very helpful to a stupid American like me, who knows Patrón from his “exile” in the United States and knows of AAA, but doesn’t keep up with it. It’s very well produced, as is much of Lucha Underground’s show. His match against Super Fly is short and to the point, showing off Texano’s size, speed, and agility. He’s an impressive athlete, and he absorbs some solid shots from Super Fly. In the end, though, Super Fly eats Texano’s double neckbreaker combination, whatever momentum he once had now all but lost. This brings out Patrón, who is the best in the world at ripping off a suit jacket and looking real angry. They fight, and it is Patrón who comes out on top, grabbing Texano’s bullrope and whipping his rival with it. Referees and security guards separate the two and Texano takes a powder, so Patrón whips the referees instead. It’s simple, effective wrestling storytelling, and I’m looking forward to seeing Alberto el Patrón wrestle mean against a guy who might be able to match him.

    In the office, Dario Cueto takes a meeting with Cage, a big ‘ol white dude who debuted not too long ago, smashing Prince Puma and his championship. He demands to be named the Lucha Underground champion, but Cueto, as impressed as he is with Cage, says that it isn’t that easy. While he’s certainly beaten up Puma in the past, his last match against him ended in defeat. He’ll need to actually beat Puma to prove that he deserves a shot. That’s fine with Cage, so long as Cueto makes a belt that isn’t Aztec garbage. Chavo Guerrero busts into the office next and says that he doesn’t need Lucha Underground anymore; he just wants to go home and be with his family. Cueto wishes him the best in all his future endeavors, which is a line that gets Chavo angry because that’s what WWE puts in all of their press releases when they fire guys, and they have fired Chavo in the past. It’s a good, subtle dig since it’s dickish regardless of the viewer’s knowing that. Cueto tells Chavo that the doors of his Temple are always open, then figures that the gods won’t be happy about what happened to his strap made of leather and Aztec gold. Look at how much they’re able to do there, in that short segment!

    The main event is, as promised, a no disqualification match. Interestingly, despite El Ray being a network that plays grindhouse films on Friday nights, the level of violence in no disqualification matches has thus far been below what is presented on WWE’s fairly sanitized product. This match, pitting The Crew against Sexy Star, Mascarita Sagrada, and Pimpinela Escarlata, is really no different, though it works as a good showcase for both the diversity of Mexican lucha libre and the budding star potential of Sexy Star. The Crew work to take out each of their opponents one after the other. The first is Pimpi, who makes the mistake of kissing Cortez Castro. Castro takes Pimpinela Escarlata out with a kendo stick. Mascarita Sagrada does better, but when he dives out onto The Crew, he is quickly swarmed, powerbombed into the ring apron, curbstomped on a chair, and left for dead. That leaves Sexy Star. She finds herself in the ring alone with Mr. Cisco, who takes the opportunity to check her out. Matt Striker uses this as an opportunity to say that he’s not as sexist and misogynistic as Cisco, which is a) debatable and b) not exactly a stirring defense in the face of fan complaint.

    Pimpinela Escarlata Lucha Underground

    Sexy Star is able to outsmart The Crew for much of the match, making it seem like the three made a mistake by leaving her in last. Star is a really compelling character, one of the best in wrestling at the moment. Though she’s a rudo in Mexico, Lucha Underground recognized from the start the value of an equality fighter. Mascarita and Pimpi are great, but they’re more like representatives from very specific niches in lucha libre. Sexy Star, upon her debut, made it clear that wrestling was her life, the thing that saved her when she had no hope, and the thing she continues to fight for. While the results of her matches haven’t exactly propped her up as well as they should, everything up until someone comes to her rescue is usually quite good. Here’s another case in point. After The Crew take out her teammates, Sexy Star takes each one of them out until it’s a one one one match. Bael takes a tornado DDT to the floor. Cortez Castro goes down to a fisherman’s neckbreaker. That leaves Mr. Cisco, the leader of The Crew, and while he’s initially able to stop a super rana, he takes too long with his powerbomb counter and is eventually taken up and over. Sexy Star gets a two count for this and The Crew reassemble, ready to put the evil on her, but that is Big Ryck’s cue to reenter The Temple. Cisco and Castro exit the ring, leaving Bael as easy pickings for Sexy Star, who wins with a roll-up. Again, that pattern. It’s noticeable because I’m no stranger to intergender wrestling, and because of how common this finish seems to be in Lucha Underground. They get away with it because Star was fighting alone and it makes sense for an exhausted Crew to run from a gigantic man whose eye they put out with a cigar, but if the only guy who can lose clean to a woman is El Mariachi Loco, a man whose character is that he quit his dishwashing gig around the corner from The Temple and found a lucha mask, then what does that really say for that aspect of the product?

    Results:

    1. Mil Muertes def. Chavo Guerrero, Jr. via disqualification. GRADE: B-

    2. Ivelisse (w/Son of Havoc) def. Angélico via pinfall. GRADE: C

    3. Texano def. Super Fly via pinfall. GRADE: C+

    4. Sexy Star, Pimpinela Escarlata, and Mascarita Sagrada def. The Crew (Mr. Cisco, Cortez Castro, and Bael) via pinfall. GRADE: B

  • Wrestling Worth Watching (4/2/12): Raw is Jericho & Tensai & Henry & Punk & Rock & Cena & & Del Rio & Brock Lesnar & YES & YES & YES

    Wrestling Worth Watching (4/2/12): Raw is Jericho & Tensai & Henry & Punk & Rock & Cena & & Del Rio & Brock Lesnar & YES & YES & YES

    The long and short of Sunday’s Wrestlemania is this: The matches that were meant to deliver, delivered. The matches that were going to be OK, were OK. The match that was going to suck, sucked. The only thing I had against what may possibly be the WWE’s biggest show (and perhaps its best) since Wrestlemania X7 was that Daniel Bryan lost his World Heavyweight Championship in 18 seconds, and, to be honest, I can’t complain about that either, given how that turned out. But, no matter how successful any given WrestleMania is, the RAW following is just as important, if not more so. While Wrestlemania is the cumulative blow-off of an entire year’s worth of build and anticipation, the Raw the night after serves as a platform upon which the company launches its new year, usually by bringing in new faces, re-debuting old ones, establishing the upper-echelon going forward, at least for the first quarter of the year.

    I don’t have a crystal clear memory of every post-Wrestlemania episode of Monday Night Raw (or Wrestling Challenge or whatever), so pardon me if there are several hidden gems out there that go unaccounted for with this statement: Last night’s episode of Monday Night Raw might be the best one in a decade. For all I know, it may be the best episode of Raw ever. That’s not hyperbole; Raw, with nary a mention of the classic encounter between The Undertaker and Triple H that took place the night before, was better than all the hype, speculation, and drama leading up to or coming out of any Wrestlemania I can remember watching. It had, as its hook, the re-debut of a much maligned former WWE superstar, the return of a main event wrestler from injury, and a return so mind-bendingly improbable that I saw a picture of him in Miami hours before the show and kind of assumed he was just there to go on vacation. This was a Raw so good that I’m writing about it right now, as opposed to writing about it at the end of the week or, like every Raw this year, simply letting it dissipate, like mist. So yeah, here’s how everything went down:

    The Crowd Was Insane

    The crowd at Wrestlemania 28 was great, but the thing that happens when you take a roof off a stadium and put a wrestling crowd in there is that there’ll be long stretches of time where the crowd seems silent. The opening stretch of Chris Jericho vs. CM Punk, for example, seemed quiet, but in any other arena there would have been a fairly audible buzz. With 50,000 fewer people, the American Airlines Center seemed like it was going to explode the whole evening, as the fans chanted “YES! YES! YES!” for Daniel Bryan the entire night, even when The Rock was out there, even when John Cena was out there, and changed it to “SI!” for the return of Alberto Del Rio. I’ve watched a ton of wrestling and have heard a lot of crowds, and few compare to the sustained bombastics of tonight’s bunch. They were absolutely high on wrestling, making everything that happened seem important. That’s good, because most everything that did happen was, indeed, important.

    Johnny Ace and “People Power”

    Ace’s team won at Wrestlemania and, as such, he’s the GM of Raw and SmackDown! His speech opening Raw was brief, but it let us know exactly the kind of guy Ace was going to be, without the fear of losing his job hanging overhead: Smug and vindictive. Those are the two qualities that make the whole general manager thing work, and it gives guys like Zack Ryder and Santino a smarmy jerk to work with when, previously, the only thing they had working in their favor was how well-liked they are. It’s a good move with the potential to be made better, should the split between the two shows be brought to a merciful end. There’s been little distinguishing the two for years, and now, there’s even less. Do it! Pull the trigger.

    The Rock Once Again Has My Hopes Up

    The Rock won at Wrestlemania in a match that didn’t quite live up to the Once in a Lifetime hype, but it was still a good encounter and, hey, nothing was going to live up to the expectation placed upon it. And on Raw he came out and said exactly what I wasn’t expecting him to say, which was that Wrestlemania 28 was under no circumstances The Rock’s match. No. He want’s more. Specifically, he wants the WWE Title.

    I’m not sure why “Christ” is a bleepable word or why “JHC” wound up being chanted (other than that the crowd was up for anything), but The Rock, once again, seems serious about this whole wrestling thing and is looking for an eighth reign atop the WWE. Something I didn’t mention while writing about Wrestlemania 28 is that The Rock, simply by being in the building, merely by being on the show, gives every wrestler on the roster more exposure than they’d receive were the Rock merely sipping bloody Marys in his trailer on the set of G.I. Joe. John Cena, as we’ll later learn, is pretty much occupied, leaving The Rock with some slim pickings when it comes to worthy championship opponents: Should The Rock go one on one with CM Punk or Daniel Bryan, for example, I will absolutely lose my mind. Moreover, a feud against a guy like CM Punk would probably elevate him to the sort of godhood only reserved for men like John Cena and The Rock himself, particularly if Punk does what Cena couldn’t and wins the thing.

    That being said, The Rock will probably end up in a feud against Randy Orton or something, but a man can dream.

    Funk Is In A Feud

    I love Brodus Clay, to the point that his five minute dance number with Mamma Clay and the Bridge Club wasn’t an unnecessary intrusion on a night where I really didn’t want unnecessary intrusions. But if there’s something that Clay needed, it was a chance to expand beyond the three minute matches he’s been exclusively featured in since his re-debut. At the conclusion of a triple threat match for the United States Championship, Brodus came out and rescued Santino from the combined forces of Jack Swagger and Dolph Ziggler (Swaggler, as the kids say), absolutely leveling Ziggler with a headbutt that Ziggler made look like the very image of death. If that’s a one-off, for shame. If Clay ends up being part of an extended angle with either Ziggler or Swagger, that’s good. Santino, I’m convinced, will never be a useful figure to me again, but if he gets Brodus a seven minute tag match on Raw or a pay per view, I’ll do him a solid and pretend that his stellar heel run ended before the whole Santina farce.

    LORD TENSAI

    Re-debuts of old characters rarely work, as wrestling fans have a longer memory than promoters believe and, usually, when a wrestler is making his second or third reappearance on the main show under his second or third gimmick, fans tend to know and are merciless about the past. As an example, fans still chant “Sexual Chocolate” at Mark Henry, despite how awesome he is as a giant, unstoppable monster. To my mind, there’ve been very few good redebuts in the history of wrestling. Two spring to mind immediately: Umaga, a drastically new look and style for a guy who was formerly a member of a sibling gangster Samoan tag team, and Kane, who had to suffer stints as a more popular wrestler’s doppelganger and as an evil dentist before settling into the role that will define his entire career. It’s early, but I’d like to add Lord Tensai to that list after one match, if only because the basis of the gimmick is so surprisingly unique. Look at this teaser video:

    For the past few weeks, I’ve been under the assumption that A-Train (the artist formerly known as Prince Albert, he of the team T&A, both things being about as “Attitude Era” as you can get while still being forgettable) was returning with the gimmick that he was Asian, which would probably have been one of the worst ideas ever considering just how white he is. But Lord Tensai, who was once only distinguishable from other monster wrestlers by the fact that he had a ton of hair on his back, comes out to the ring dressed like an early 90s Great Muta and Michael Cole flat out acknowledges what everybody knows: That this guy used to go be in the WWE and that he went to Japan. Not only did he go to Japan, but he adopted the Japanese lifestyle because, get this, it made him a better wrestler. It wasn’t the sort of praise I was expecting. It was exactly the sort of praise this character deserves.

    The match itself is simple brutality; one guy roughing up another. Brodus Clay was probably pushed into a feud because they can’t have two guys out there indiscriminately squashing the Alex Rileys and Heath Slaters of the world, but this here is one of the more impressive squash matches I can recall seeing. As opposed to just being a few moves leading to the star’s finishing move, Riley pretty much takes everything Tensai has to offer, to the point that he literally can’t continue. How good was this, as a re-debut? The fans, initially torn between making fun of A-Train’s past and cheering for Daniel Bryan, come around for Tensai’s butterfly suplex and are firmly in his pocket as he drills Riley with the fatsplash and his old Baldo Bomb finisher, which will surely get a better name. Also, Tensai appears to be bringing Asian Mist back to the WWE, which is amazing because I really love Asian Mist, and it’s unprecedented that a white guy can do it without looking stupid. A promising start, to say the least.

    CM Punk vs. Mark Henry

    This was just a good match, which is important, because that’s pretty much what wrestling is about. Punk and Henry really have little reason to be fighting, but Mark Henry has established himself as a solid title threat and, after calling Johnny Ace a “toolbox” (hard to believe that’s the best Punk could come up with), what other means of punishment would be more suitable for a WWE Champion with a hurt back than a title defense against a huge dude whose whole game is crushing spines?

    There’s more to the match than the above, but you get the picture: Punk looks like a valiant champion, Henry looks like a killer, and the world keeps turning. The way the match ended, and with rumors that Chris Jericho was going to take time off (already!) to do a Fozzy tour, I was actually thinking that this’d be a good way to get a short, meaningful feud between the two started. But things didn’t turn out that way, and Mark Henry looks to be part of an angle to bring back Abraham Washington, who might end up being—shock of shocks—a manager in a managerless era.

    Chris Jericho Forces CM Punk to Drink

    Yes, Punk and Jericho continue to re-do one of Punk’s seminal indie storylines—the feud with Raven that ran through Ring of Honor and several other promotions—but to me, it’s different because of the essential difference in Raven and Chris Jericho’s characters: Raven was always looking to bring his opponent down to his level; Jericho is always seeking to elevate himself above his. Jericho failed in his Wrestlemania bid to prove to the world that he was a better wrestler than CM Punk (that not really being one of Raven’s objectives), and, as such, is resorting to prove that he’s the better person, if only because he won’t compromise his moral values, whatever those may be. With Punk down and out because of his match against Henry, Jericho has the opportunity to do what he said he was going to do and make Punk drink:

    Call me crazy (or an apologist), but I like that Jericho slipped in the booze on the ground. Most dudes, given that situation, would freeze. Jericho pivots and starts beating on Punk. I won’t go as far as to say that it adds a shade of realism to the segment, but it’s nice to know that these things can’t flap some people. And Jericho’s promo was really quite good. The only thing totally unbelievable about the whole thing (beyond the fact that the second bottle of Jack Daniels breaks in Jericho’s hand) is how much booze Jericho felt was necessary to be a dick. I mean, Punk is pretty freakin’ straight edge. A travel-sized bottle of Jack from the airplane probably would have been shameful enough. But I guess if we’re going to have metaphors on Monday night, they need to be as big as possible.

     

    ALBERTO DEL RIO

    Literally the only bad thing about Alberto Del Rio returning on Raw is that it might mean pushing Daniel Bryan out of the title picture. Sheamus is still a big, oafish Irishman despite carrying around the World Heavyweight Championship, and, in order to establish himself as a true championship level face, he needs an opponent who is both talented and decidedly a heel. Outside of the American Airlines Center, where the crowd booed Sheamus because he was in that eighteen second match against Daniel Bryan—an eighteen second match that might have done more to get the Bryan over than anything he’s done in his WWE career—Del Rio will play exactly as he’s meant to, and will give SmackDown! a needed shot in the arm.

    The return of Del Rio also meant the return of Ricardo, whose introduction of Del Rio, complete with the blaring trumpets, the cars, and Del Rio’s scarf, has been sorely missed. The guy has been doing breathing exercises, too, as his “RIO” lasted almost a full minute. If we end up getting a Del Rio/Sheamus feud, it’ll be pretty good. If Daniel Bryan is somehow still involved, it’ll be utterly fantastic. Better, Christian’s momentary return before Wrestlemania hints at him being ready to make a return, as well, meaning that both brands (should brand distinctions somehow continue to matter) carry a rich assortment of top guys for the first time in awhile.

    BROCK LESNAR

    I mostly know Brock Lesnar as a video game character, an action figure of freakish size and strength. I saw him debut, a whole ten years ago, the day after Wrestlemania X8, and it was obvious that he was going to be something special. I just never got to see most of his significant matches, as they mostly took place after the dreadful Kane/Triple H Katie Vick angle that chased me away from wrestling for four years. I don’t know if it’s my lack of interest in a bald Kurt Angle or my fear that much of Brock’s run may have been overrated or hasn’t aged particularly well, but Lesnar’s reign atop the WWE is one that I haven’t gone back and visited, despite really liking his match against The Rock at Summerslam 2002. I’d rather have him be an exaggerated figure of other people’s memories than another in a long list of potential disappointments I’ve faced as a fan.

    But when John Cena asked the Rock to come out for a handshake and Lesnar’s music hit instead, I nearly leaped out of my chair. This was big. This was huge. The crowd, who had been loud all night, somehow got louder. And Cena, usually so cool in the face of danger, looked like he was cracking, even if only a little. The beauty of this segment is its simplicity:

    Lesnar says nothing to Cena, at least nothing he can hear. He gets into the ring, points to the name on his shirt, offers Cena a handshake and, before Cena has time to react, Lesnar puts him in the F5, which remains one of the coolest finishing moves ever devised. The fans, no longer able to express their joy with mere chants of “YES! YES! YES!” resort to the now little-heard “HOLY SHIT” chant. Michael Cole claims that the entire landscape of the WWE has changed, and for once he’s not lying.

    This was a great swerve. A GREAT swerve. I was expecting Cena to ask for a rematch against The Rock, an opportunity to redeem himself in the face of failure. After Wrestlemania, he doesn’t like The Rock; he wants to show the respect he has for him, and hopes The Rock will do the same. Instead we get Lesnar. Lesnar who so obviously does not respect anybody. Lesnar whose mere presence tells the fans that things have very much gotten real. Brock is wordless, but he doesn’t need words when he’s got the F5, when he can get up and kick Cena’s stupid little hat across the ring like he was toying with a child.

    This is a challenge, the sort of thing John Cena can’t remain stagnant against. The Rock and John Cena were opposites, sure, but The Rock didn’t hate Cena and certainly didn’t hate the WWE. Brock Lesnar hates everything and is the WWE’s prodigal son, leaving for the NFL, for a stint in Japan, for a successful-if-short run in the UFC. He hated the traveling, hated the life, hated everything about professional wrestling. Cena, by contrast, loves the life and loves the WWE more than anything in the world. Brock is a world-destroyer, a man built of pure rage, and it’s not the gimmicky rage of Kane. This is real. This is a threat. This is a guy who is either going to kill John Cena or turn him into something he doesn’t want to become.

    When I was complaining about the build-up to Cena’s match against The Rock, I said that, in terms of clear, effective storytelling, the feud between Rock and Steve Austin pretty much encapsulated everything that’s great about wrestling, and that’s true. This, too, is clear and effective storytelling, and in one short, deafening utterance. Music. F5. Hat kick. Brock Lesnar hates John Cena. Brock Lesnar wants to fight John Cena. Brock Lesnar can destroy John Cena. What does Cena do? Where does he go from here? I have no idea, and that’s exactly why I love professional wrestling: Even when things seem clear as day, it retains the capacity to shock, it still manages to surprise.