Randy Orton

Wrestling Review: WWE Raw (2/23/15)

February 24, 2015 by Colette Arrand Leave a Comment

This week, Raw was a mix of everything wonderful, weird, and awful about World Wrestling Entertainment. After an underwhelming pay-per-view redeemed by a fantastic main event that still left people wanting the other guy in the WrestleMania main event, Raw finally started moving towards its usual killer January-March pace. The show was bookended by two very good wrestling matches. There is some intrigue at the top of the card, depending on how one reads the post-Fastlane interaction between Daniel Bryan and Roman Reigns. Despite that, and despite some offbeat, enjoyable stuff from unexpected contributors, Raw is still a two-hour show trying and failing desperately to fill a third hour. Writing that third hour, according to Triple H, is the hardest job anybody in the WWE has. It’s also one they routinely, consistently fail to achieve. I’m hardly one of those “It says wrestling on the marquee!” kinda guys (though I do cringe whenever they refer to me and my ilk as “sports-entertainment” fans), but when certain members of the roster are in the ring watching a music video that has nothing to do with them longer than they’re in the ring wrestling, then there are big, big problems with pacing that not even the most cheerful advertisement for one’s place in the zeitgeist can patch up.

The opening promo, at least, felt fresh, if only because Randy Orton hadn’t been in it for about four months. At Fastlane, Orton returned to exact his revenge upon Seth Rollins, who purposefully injured Orton because he, as the “face of the WWE,” felt that The Authority were trying to push him out of the picture. Orton says that he’s not the type of dude to talk for twenty minutes (not true) and gets right to the point: He wants Seth Rollins’ ass. Out comes The Authority—Triple H, Stephanie McMahon, Kane, and Big Show—without Seth Rollins. Triple H is all sad, besuited muscle, his tuff guy leather jacket having led him to an ass kicking at the hands of the old man called Sting. He doesn’t say anything during the segment, which is actually pretty great. Stephanie McMahon thus takes charge of the situation. She, for one, is really excited to see Randy again, and in the killer mode The Authority was begging for last year and didn’t get. She’d be glad to welcome Randy back into The Authority, provided he can find forgiveness in his heart for Seth Rollins. But this is Randy Orton, and he has no heart. All he wants is to bash Seth Rollins’ brains in. But Stephanie, she thinks things can still be smoothed out. Big Show tells Randy that joining The Authority again is the right move, the best one he ever made, and that was after a year of Stephanie and Triple H making him cry and threaten to foreclose on their house. Besides, Stephanie says, it’s not like Randy Orton is a nice guy. As a matter of fact, he once physically assaulted Stephanie in order to get to Triple H. But she can forgive him for all of that, because this is business. Stephanie McMahon is such a great heel. Everything she says is logical and true, and is thus absolutely heinous. And that’s why, when she offers Randy a business meeting with Seth Rollins, he takes it. The crowd, obviously, would have loved for Orton to RKO the hell out of everybody in that ring, but we’re all about delayed gratification for the moment, even when it doesn’t make much sense for Orton to reconsider joining a group that’s been largely useless without him.

Because the opening promo didn’t go twenty minutes, we head straight into a non-title match between Intercontinental Champion Wade Barrett and Dolph Ziggler. Barrett is without his title because Dean Ambrose stole it after being disqualified at Fastlane. Dolph Ziggler is without a feud after losing cleanly to The Authority in that show’s opening match. Oh, and R-Truth is out there doing guest commentary because he beat Barrett in a non-title match on SmackDown! and he wants a shot at the championship. This is the most significant microphone time he’s had since 2011. And you know what? He’s pretty good when he’s not being asked to play a heartless stereotype. He tries and succeeds in getting the hashtag #GiveTruthAChance trending, which will become important later in the evening, too. Meanwhile, Ziggler and Barrett have a good match, which is only something of a surprise since Barrett has largely struggled to find himself since his return. At this point, Dolph Ziggler can be trusted to have a good match with just about anybody. This, and his undeniable charisma, are why the crowd react to him as though he’s being booked much better than he is. There is no good outcome here: Either Ziggler continues losing or Barrett continues losing, and both, honestly, deserve better. Ziggler continues to be one of the best on the roster at picking up a match’s pace towards the end. After taking a hideous looking powerbomb, he avoids Barrett’s finishing elbow and nearly scores the win with a roll-up. He misses a fameasser, ducks Barrett’s boot, then gets taken out with a huge slam. Ziggler gets the Zig Zag after moving out of the way of a charging Barrett, and gets the win. Now, it seems, there are three contenders for the Intercontinental Championship. And hey, here’s Dean Ambrose with the title. He just shows up, taking Ziggler’s spotlight, and seethes in Barrett’s general direction. Barrett continues to do his whiney big man routine, deadpanning “That’s my title!” from the corner. Ziggler checks the title out, and Ambrose mean mugs him before leaving. R-Truth doesn’t get involved at all, so he’ll probably lose to Barrett on SmackDown! and shuffle off to the Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royal by the time WrestleMania comes around.

Backstage, we’re privy to The Authority’s business meeting with Randy Orton. This, if you’ve never been in a business meeting before, is what they look like:

Everybody gathers in the corner of a tableless, chairless room, squeezed together and standing at a three-quarter turn to the camera that must, of course, be there to document the business. A good negotiating tactic is to show up to these things in a t-shirt and a pair of briefs. Try it at your next job interview. Seth Rollins is thrown off by Orton’s gambit, interrupting Stephanie to say that he doesn’t want him back. Stephanie goes on a tear once Rollins interrupts him—what he wants is not the issue. The Future and the Face of the WWE can and should coexist. Kane isn’t too convinced, but Stephanie doesn’t care what Business Kane thinks. She wants Randy and Seth to bury the hatchet. She throws Rollins under the bus while Triple H pouts about his fateful meeting with Sting, who is pretty much the templar from the end of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Orton doesn’t think too long about rejoining The Authority. It’s a good business move, this is a business meeting, and it’s all business. He shakes Rollins’ hand. Stephanie is so hyped up about this that she books the reunited Authority against Roman Reigns and Daniel Bryan for the main event. Orton isn’t exactly a character actor, but man is he good tonight, smugly lording it over Rollins while making it pretty clear that he’s going to drop him and The Authority the first chance he gets.

The Prime Time Players reunited last week on Raw, the formerly promising tag team coming back together because The Ascension needs more mid-card tag teams to make them look worthwhile. Michael Cole says that there’s a reason the two are back together, but never gets to say it. Oh well. The reason why they broke up wasn’t that good, either. Meanwhile, The Ascension heard that The Bushwhackers got inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame, and they’re pretty sure they could destroy those guys. They’re totally right, but oh man is it hilarious to see two painted-up weirdos in terrible leather gear cut a straight 1980s promo on a couple of goofballs who wandered around the ring during their matches to like people’s heads. “HALL OF FAME?” one of them yells, setting up the other for “MORE LIKE HALL OF SHAME!” They should do this on every old tag team, every week. This match is nothing, really. The Ascension beat up Darren Young, who has gotten beaten up exclusively since making his return from an injury. Titus O’Neil gets involved for a little, which lets his partner score a roll-up win. This is The Ascension’s first loss, but that’s not exactly impressive since they got their asses kicked by JBL a month ago.

Roman Reigns’ victory over Daniel Bryan was the expected outcome at Fastlane. It was also a very good match, showing a side of Reigns that I honestly didn’t know existed, which is that he could remain interesting and look good for the duration of an entire match, not just when he punches and spears his opponent for the win. The bigger problem with Reigns, though, is that he can’t speak. He just can’t do it. And the only thing that’s made him seem interesting in the space beyond his matches was The Shield, which he already leans on so heavily that it’s like the group ended for him. All Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson had for his cousin was “Roman I make it Reigns in this bitch” and the look of a man who would rather be anywhere but next to the albatross of a forced WrestleMania main event push.

But Reigns is going to have to learn how to speak for himself to really make it as a top-tier draw, so here he is with a hot mic in front of a live crow. And you know what? He does pretty well. After a month of being booed in favor of Daniel Bryan, he has a nice, organic talking point to go through, and before he can go on for too long, Daniel Bryan comes out to address his loss. Obviously, he’s there to put Reigns over, which is not what the crowd wants. Until that point, he really tears into Reigns’ shortcomings as a title contender, in this vicious, mean way that reminds one of how great Bryan was as a heel and would be again if he wasn’t so universally beloved. But that match at Fastlane made Daniel Bryan a believer in Reigns, regardless of what he felt beforehand. Honestly, it’s pretty depressing watching Daniel Bryan just roll over and die for Roman Reigns, but maybe it’s going somewhere unexpected. Bryan, after all, is still without an obvious match at WrestleMania, and maybe knowing that he gave it his all and came up short will make him desperate enough to interject himself in the main event in some fashion. Bryan’s effort to put over Roman Reigns isn’t enough, so Paul Heyman hits the ring and really goes over the top. In a match, he would have picked Reigns over Bruno Sammartino. He would have picked him over Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant. He would have picked Roman Reigns over Steve Austin or The Rock, John Cena or Randy Orton, Daniel Bryan or his brothers in The Shield. Heyman lays all of this on so thick that he has legitimate heat with even the smart fans in the crowd. His point isn’t so much that Roman Reigns is a smart bet, but that all of those men were just that… men. Brock Lesnar, his client, the WWE World Heavyweight Champion, isn’t a man. He’s a beast. It’s the same promo Heyman has been cutting since Brock Lesnar defeated The Undertaker at last year’s WrestleMania, but it’s a really good promo and continues to be, even with Roman Reigns at its center. Reigns tries to get sassy with Heyman, but after a heartfelt promo by Bryan and the cold, harsh light of Paul E. Dangerously’s truth, all he’s got is his catchphrase. Whatever. I am in for whatever physicality there will be between Lesnar and Reigns, especially given Lesnar’s ability to flip the switch between merciless destruction and awe-inspiring superhuman selling within the same match. Still, if Reigns’ victory at WrestleMania is etched in stone (and I’m not convinced that’s the case), he’s going to need to figure out how to look good even when he’s being outshined on the microphone.

Every WWE championship has, buried within the unseen contract the champions sign upon clinching the title, a rematch clause. It’s a bit of lazy storytelling that allows an ongoing championship feud continue without having to stop and think of what a title change really means, the faux-strategy often being that cashing in on that clause early will give the former champions a mental advantage over their rivals. That’s why The Usos used their clause on Raw, one presumes, and hey, the story plays out that they really do have an advantage early, befuddling Kidd and Cesaro with their high impact, tag team offense. It’s immediately a better effort than at Fastlane the night before, as the chaos that let the match down at the pay-per-view actually comes to define this contest, both teams throwing caution to the wind because they really want that pair of big pennies. There’s a lot of good double-team stuff here, even if what’s happening isn’t tag team wrestling in its classical sense. And, as Naomi and Natalya finally got physically involved, there’s a chance that this issue may evolve into a showcase for them, as well. Natalya shoved Naomi to the ground for stopping Tyson Kidd from cheating, then got her team disqualified by getting involved in the match. The post-match altercation between the two women, while brief, got a good reaction from the crowd. If this becomes a six-person tag team situation in time for WrestleMania, and if Natalya and Naomi aren’t kept to their own corner of the ring, this might yet become the interesting Tag Team Championship feud the division has been sorely lacking.

The tag team match is a spike in a show that begins to drag pretty severely. The Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royal from last year’s WrestleMania has not been forgotten, so The Miz and Damien Mizdow’s ongoing will-they-or-won’t-they over their odd partnership is part of that match, now. Stardust and Goldust appear to be moving towards another singles match, but now they’re in the mid-card singles feud holding pattern where the way to continue things is to distract somebody with your music. Curtis Axel still hasn’t been eliminated from the Royal Rumble some twenty-nine days and counting, which rules. He is going to put his experience in not losing battle royals (and not entering them, either) to good use in the Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royal. His old buddy Ryback comes out and says that he and the AX-MAN were one of the greatest tag teams of all time, which is legitimately hilarious. RyBaxel explodes…in a thirty-second squash match. Ryback is a good pick for that battle royal. If you put Roman Reigns against Ryback, my money is on Ryback.

Raw has to deal with a lot of Fastlane fall out. Bray Wyatt fooled the crowd in Memphis when he came out with The Undertaker’s druids and music. I can’t say that his promo that night or any of his pre-tapes about vaguely defined dark forces were anything that much better than Wyatt’s usual schtick, but with his intentions finally public, he cuts a scorching promo about how the evil that once possessed The Undertaker was now calling on Bray Wyatt to put him down. I wish there was more faith in Wyatt to deliver without the use of spooooOOOOOoooOOooooky props (tonight: a smoking funeral arrangement—oooooOOOOOoooooOOOoooo), but it’s not like Bray Wyatt is the only guy being given unnecessary props. His opponent at last year’s WrestleMania, John Cena, is now ALL ABOUT AMERICA, JACK after his loss to Rusev. Though he hit all of the expected John Cena beats, he actually did a tremendous job playing the role the announcers discussed during the actual match during Fastlane, an aging master of wrestling coming to terms with the fact that he really can’t win them all anymore. He was cheated, but he failed. Rusev, though, has nothing to be proud about, winning after a low blow, and if he’s the kind of person Russia props up as a hero (he isn’t), then, well, everybody there should be ashamed. This brings out Rusev and Lana, the best full-time act in wrestling. After his victory, what he wants from John Cena is an admission that America is inferior to Russia. That really gets Cena’s dander up. “Watch your ass when you run down the United States of America,” warns the star of The Marine, before praising the men who took Iwo Jima as heroes to Rusev’s garbage. That… that’s a fair point, maybe, but Russia also did stuff in World War II. Like, they exhausted Nazi forces on the eastern front and eventually took Berlin. Compared to that, John Cena is garbage, too. He challenges Rusev to a WrestleMania rematch, but the burly Bulgarian says no. Then he drops his flag from the ceiling and leaves John Cena standing there like he just found out he was grown in a lab and his memories are a lie. That’s what you get for shameless patriotism, John. Oh, and the Rollins/Orton thing continues to play out, with the two having a meeting where they hash things out. Orton hasn’t put anything behind him, but he’s willing to give Rollins a chance, if only to show that Roman Reigns and Daniel Bryan were lucky he wasn’t in the Royal Rumble. They’re going to have to compress this a lot with their destined singles match just over the horizon, but an Orton/Rollins team could be quite compelling over a long stretch. It seems like Orton is playing his rejoining The Authority much straighter in this segment, which is a confusing narrative decision, but all roads lead to him finally landing an RKO on Rollins.

Because Triple H vs. Sting is happening at WrestleMania, and because many of WWE’s most passionate fans weren’t alive when WCW folded, they play a Sting highlight package. It is quite good, as most WWE highlight packages are, but man, it is not encouraging. The last great Sting match happened in maybe 1994, and his biggest year, 1997, was him not talking and not wrestling. A lot of people you’ve heard of do their best to put over how great Sting is and was, and it’ll be really great when they play this again in the context of inducting Sting into the WWE Hall of Fame. Maybe by then we’ll be past the new World order being the primary narrative engine of professional wrestling and we can look back on the year Sting laid everybody out with the Scorpion Death Drop more fondly than we do now. Maybe the hero, whoever that is, will be allowed his triumph over The Authority, which will then fade away and never return

The problem with the Sting video, the Bushwhackers Hall of Fame Video, and the newest version of the Seth Rollins/John Stewart video is that they exist on live television in an era where a YouTube video (or a 24/7 online streaming network/on-demand service) could present this information at any time. TMZ did WWE’s job of playing that John Stewart video. Some website in New Zealand announced The Bushwhackers. Meanwhile, the sequence of events on the live show is this: Paige’s music hits, and she does her entrance. Sting video. Emma is suddenly in the ring with Paige. The Bella Twins enter. The bell rings after Emma keeps Paige from attacking Brie. Nikki knocks Paige from the apron, kicks Emma in the gut, delivers a facebuster, and wins. Paige and Emma spent more time in the ring watching a video about Sting than they did wrestling from bell to bell, or continuing to develop the Paige vs. Bella Twins storyline. This did nothing for nobody, and, at the risk of sounding like I’m overreacting, reflects rather poorly on a company that is supposedly in the business of promoting strong women. This did not go unnoticed on social media, where R-Truth’s hashtag became #GiveDivasAChance and trended, of course, without mention. The fact that I gave the match an F isn’t a reflection upon the performers involved, but on the way the situation was presented. It suggests either a belief that what the women are doing isn’t valuable, or that they don’t have faith in their ability to perform up to a television standard. I’d suggest that both are wrong and misguided and, if the fault lies anywhere for the lack of a reaction the Diva’s division is getting this early in 2015, then it’s on whoever decided to shutter the program between Nikki and Brie from last year, re-teaming them without explanation, and moving them into yet another storyline that’s a mashup of the Bellas’ usual we-look-better-than-you angle, the challenger’s usual I-don’t-look-like-your-typical-Diva angle, and liberal doses of both the Crazy Chick gimmick and a character’s insistence that her rival(s) can’t wrestle. Last year, Brie Bella and Stephanie McMahon had a match that was practically one of the main events of SummerSlam. It was good, it told a story, and, when it ended, the earth upon which the loser stood was not salted. Live audiences popped huge for that angle, were engaged with AJ Lee and Paige, and so on. But you don’t even have to look that far back in history (or to the alternate universe that is NXT) for an example of a women’s match on the main roster that was good: On the 1/6 edition of Main Event, Nikki and Paige had a very good match that should be used as the measuring stick for the division. Instead, it’s an exception, a thing that’ll happen once every few months for a couple dozen people who look for that kind of thing. #GiveDivasAChance is a warzone (predictably), as trending on Twitter doesn’t equate to unanimous support. But the main arguments against the division, at least when I dipped into the feed, is that the workers aren’t good and the product won’t draw. Well, you can’t prove either with a kick and a facebuster, and you can’t improve on it, either. Regardless of their function as Vince McMahon sees it—eye candy, a rest between big matches and angles, or a trojan horse for a lucrative reality television show—the potential is there for so much more. It’s not about women being given a chance. It’s about giving them a platform.

That being said, the main event was great, full of character development and worked at a similar level as Fastlane‘s main event. Seth Rollins is out first with Kane, Big Show, and J&J Security, and he gives Randy Orton a custom ring introduction befitting a prodigal son. The Authority hang around outside the ring, clapping and cheering Orton, giving his fragile, permanently bruised ego as much of a lift as they can. Meanwhile, Bryan and Reigns continue their own fragile partnership, something that’s a staple of WrestleMania season though not at all stale since this partnership is entirely new. They’ve got some good ideas as for how to work together as a unit, too. Daniel Bryan starts by putting Rollins in a surfboard, then tags in Reigns, who throws his former Shield ally to the mat from that position. The announcers seem to mostly forget that Reigns was in the middle of a program with Rollins when he was lost to a sports hernia, and Reigns wrestles Rollins like nothing too bad happened between them, but Rollins is a smart heel and tags out to Orton as soon as he can. When Reigns tries to outpower Orton, Orton responds to his veteran savvy. He takes a shoulder tackle and responds with a dropkick. During a commercial break, The Authority take over, running a distraction on Roman Reigns that allows Rollins to sneak in a few cheap shots. They work in a rolling series of hot tags and outside interference spots from The Authority that keep the crowd engaged. Though they’ve both been back for a few months, Bryan and Reigns seem much fresher than before, and Orton, in this weird, in-between space where the fans want him to crush The Authority but he’s still just thinking about it, feels like a wrestler worth watching for the first time since he and Evolution feuded with The Shield. Rollins, feeling pretty good about himself because he has a tag team partner who moves a bit quicker than the glacial titans The Authority usually sticks him with, makes a blind tag on Orton while he’s in the middle of a DDT. Orton bails and complains to Kane and Big Show, sitting the rest of the match out. Rollins takes too long to hit the Curbstomp and gets a Superman punch from Reigns. Bryan tags in while Reigns is setting up the spear, and, for the first time in the history of blind tags, Reigns laughs it off and lets Bryan take the victory with the running knee. When Orton gets back into the ring to confront Rollins, J&J Security try to get between the pair. Jamie Noble takes an RKO, and then nothing happens. Seriously. The announce team recaps what just happened, complete with replays, and that’s it. Good thing they only gave the women two moves, because that post-match angle was hot.

Results

Dolph Ziggler def. Wade Barrett via pinfall. GRADE: B
The Prime Time Players (Darren Young & Titus O’Neil) def. The Ascension (Konnor & Viktor) via pinfall. GRADE: C
WWE Tag Team Championships: The Usos (Jimmy & Jey, w/Naomi) def. Tyson Kidd & Cesaro (champions, w/Natalya) via disqualification. GRADE: B
Jack Swagger def. Stardust vis submission. GRADE: C
The Bella Twins (Nikki & Brie) def. Paige and Emma via pinfall. GRADE: F
Ryback def. Curtis Axel via pinfall. GRADE: C
Daniel Bryan & Roman Reigns def. Randy Orton & Seth Rollins (w/The Authority) via pinfall. GRADE: B+

Wrestling Review: WWE Fastlane (2/22/15)

February 23, 2015 by Colette Arrand Leave a Comment

World Wrestling Entertainment decided to re-brand their February pay-per-view event Fastlane to play off the fact that they call the long stretch between Royal Rumble and WrestleMania the Road to WrestleMania. In every documentary I’ve seen about the event, the 31st edition of which takes place on March 29, a member of creative or a wrestler, perhaps Triple H or Vince McMahon, even, will claim that the Road to WrestleMania starts the day after the show, when the exhausted crew gathers in the basketball arena adjacent to the stadium they’d just occupied and begins plotting out the next episode of Raw. This was true once, perhaps, before World Wrestling Entertainment was the only game in town, before it had to fill five hours of broadcast television and yet more for their online outlet, but the days of WrestleMania being plotted out a year in advance have been over for some time. If anything, it’s called The Road to WrestleMania because that’s when the pieces for the show really start to fall into place. The fallout from the big show may string things along until SummerSlam, but everything from that August show until about the Royal Rumble is about the promise that WrestleMania will be worthwhile.

This year, unable to promote an Elimination Chamber event because the titular construction is expensive to set up in arenas that can’t easily accommodate it, Fastlane held the promise, due to its punning title, of accelerating the company’s storylines heading into WrestleMania. One problem (the problem) is that the WWE hasn’t had much in the way of success with many of its storylines of late. Really, they’ve been treading water since Daniel Bryan, fresh off his triumphant double header at WrestleMania XXX, suffered an injury that took him out of the picture for nearly a year. There were glimmers of hope, here and there. Brock Lesnar destroying John Cena at SummerSlam. The finish to Team Cena vs. Team Authority at Survivor Series. Daniel Bryan’s emotional return to Raw and his declaration that he would not have to retire. But 2014 was something of a lost year for World Wrestling Entertainment, and the Road to WrestleMania has been a hard one thus far. Last year, Raw was must-see television. This year, one had to pin one’s hopes to this new, generically-titled pay-per-view to kickstart the build necessary of a show that’ll be held at Levi’s Stadium, that glittering beacon of publicly subsidized, corporately overseen athletic carnage. And, on paper, Fastlane looked like a great card, the sort of show that would get lost because it was between Royal Rumble and WrestleMania, but that would be discovered again and again by those curious enough to put in the time on the WWE Network. To be blunt, that’s exactly what this show was not.

The crowd at the FedEx Forum were pumped for Fastlane for about the first three seconds of Dolph Ziggler’s theme song, then dead from the minute Erick Rowan’s theme hit to the closing stretch of the main event. I can get over a bad crowd (the way WWE has paced their shows over the last year, one has to get over a bad crowd), so I settled in for the expected sleeper classic. And the opening six-man tag team match, with a muddled storyline dating back to November, had me hopeful. Ziggler/Ryback/Rowan vs. Big Show/Kane/Rollins looked like it had no reason to be on this (or any) card, despite how much I dig Ziggler, Ryback, and Rollins. After Ziggler’s win at Survivor Series over the Rollins-led Team Authority went nowhere, another meeting between these two teams in any configuration was the last thing I wanted. Ryback, a physical freak who won me over by being a physical freak, may be the most improved wrestler of the calendar year. Erick Rowan, himself a huge man, may prove to be the most surprising. The story of any match involving The Authority is that they always have the numbers advantage and have more of a reason to stay a cohesive unit. Seth Rollins is on another level when it comes to his ability to put together creative, amazing sequences. Early, he rolls out of the way of a Ryback splash and has his curbstomp countered into a big powerbomb. Later, he looks to hit Ryback with a blockbuster, but is caught in the Shellshock. These are big, impressive spots to be landing in what’s essentially a throwaway match to end (hopefully) a long stagnant feud, but Rollins is so good that he’s able to elevate whatever material he’s given. In the end, though, it’s a nice bit of double teaming from Kane and The Big Show that gives The Authority a somewhat surprising win. After the match, a five-on-three assault (J&J Security are involved, of course) is too much for Ziggler, Rowan, and Ryback. Just when things seem hopeless, Randy Orton finally returns, dispatching the majority of The Authority with his RKO. Waaaaaay back in November, Triple H officially chose to back Seth Rollins over Orton, leading The Authority to injure his former Evolution running buddy. This is his revenge, though it’s hardly complete. Rollins was pulled from the ring by Big Show, and he ran at top speed to the parking garage. Orton vs. Rollins seems like a lock for WrestleMania, and it should be a good one. Where it leaves Ziggler, Ryback, Rowan, Kane, and Big Show is a mystery that’ll either be solved over the next five weeks, or during the catch-all battle royal that exists to eat 20-minutes of time at the show.

Backstage, Dusty Rhodes is with his son Dustin, garbed, as he customarily is, as Goldust. It’s been hard times for the Rhodes family of late, what with Cody going crazy and figuring that he really is the cosmic entity known as Stardust, but Dusty doesn’t want Dustin beating up his youngest son too badly. Love, Dusty Rhodes believes, is what will heal this freshly developed rift. Goldust, however, doesn’t think so. To bring Cody Rhodes back, he’s going to have to beat Stardust out of him. This match, Dustin Rhodes vs. Cody Rhodes or Goldust vs. Stardust, is what I’ve been waiting for since Goldust came back for yet another WWE run, and in the best in-ring shape of his career. It seems to be the one Dustin wants to retire on, too. This match, then, was crushed somewhat by the weight of expectation, as well as by a serious error on the part of referee Rudy Charles. Everything is good, at least in the early going. Stardust’s new gear, essentially his Goldust tribute gear without a top, was a nice, weird twist on his brother’s most famous look, and the psychological aspect of the contest—Stardust getting distracted by “CODY!” chants, Goldust using his experience to outsmart his brother, Stardust taking advantage of Goldust’s reluctance to cause any serious damage to take control—was quite excellent, especially as a first chapter. The WWE’s dead crowd problem plagued it, though, as did the finish, which saw Goldust roll Stardust up and the referee make a two count before calling for the bell. Usually, mistakes that happen during the course of a match can be worked through. The referee forgetting how to count to three, however, is egregious. That’s the function of a referee. The look of confusion on Goldust, Stardust, and even Dusty Rhodes’ face at the end of the match was not good. Stardust was able to redeem things a bit afterwards with another killer promo on his family and how Cody Rhodes died when Dusty sent Goldust to fight Cody’s battle against The Authority. His beatdown of Goldust, complete with one last no-look kick after the promo, saved their night.

The WWE Tag Team Championship, like everything that isn’t the World Heavyweight Championship, are albatrosses, title belts that are spoken highly of on commentary but which doom their owners to the relative obscurity of four or five minute matches on Raw and SmackDown!. The “art” of tag team wrestling has largely been lost (Vince McMahon reportedly isn’t a fan, and most teams don’t stay together long enough to build anything like real chemistry), but The Usos are a solid enough foundation for a division that always seems to be in the midst of a rebuild. Cesaro and Tyson Kidd are “the best new tag team we’ve seen in awhile,” meaning “the tag team we are focusing on this month.” This match stems from the scripted marital drama of Total Divas, where Natalya is seemingly always on the verge of ending things with her husband Tyson Kidd, and Naomi is enjoying her new marriage to Jimmy Uso. Natalya thought it would be fun to have a double date with Jimmy and Naomi, but Tyson Kidd invited Cesaro along (their relationship being an interesting one, too), and the ensuing altercation at a “restaurant” gave us this match. Kidd and Cesaro are still a new team, but they seem to be meshing well. Cesaro’s power and Kidd’s speed are impressive when combined, particularly on moves like Cesaro’s deadlift superplex and Kidd’s slingshot elbow drop. They spend most of the match working on Jimmy’s leg. Cesaro even alters his swing so that he whips Jimmy Uso around by the damaged leg before sinking in a single-leg crab. It’s good stuff, then it falls apart when The Usos go into their comeback. It’s hard to explain why, but it just does. The flying Uso stuff leads to some convoluted action at ringside highlighted by a Samoan drop into the crowd barricade, and then Kidd manages to win once the match moves back inside the ring with a fisherman’s neckbreaker. The Kidd/Cesaro/Natalya character work continues when Cesaro pulls his partner away from a celebratory kiss with Nattie, but it’s tough to say where any of it is going. Tyson and Natalya have been playing a will-they-or-won’t-they game since Kidd re-debuted on Raw last year, and the Cesaro stuff gives the angle the appearance of a love triangle with Kidd being pulled between the affections of his wife and his tag team partner. That can’t be where they’re going with it, though, so we just have this weird angle where one member of a tag team was trying to respect dinner and the other brought his angry, well-dressed friend as a third. Now we enter the period of title feuds where the former champion talks about automatic rematch clauses. How exciting.

The face-to-face meeting between Triple H and Sting existed as a means of setting up their match at WrestleMania. Really, the whole “confrontation” was had on Monday, when Triple H shoved his sad, old mentor Ric Flair to the ground after Flair insinuated that Triple H was perhaps taking Sting too lightly. We got the gist of Triple H’s issue right there: Sting’s a WCW guy. WCW has been dead since the year 2001. But in 2014, Sting finally showed up to a WWE event, temporarily causing Triple H to lose control of a company that he sees as his and his family’s legacy. So he came out to Fastlane not in his suit and tie, but in his tough guy leather jacket, with his hands taped so heavily he could hardly make a fist. He went through those talking points again, which brought out Sting. Without his WCW music and with 18 years between him and his 1997 peak, all silent, “Crow” Sting accomplishes at this point is to give us a match between Sting and Triple H without being given a reason for the guy’s reemergence. WWE is calling him “The Vigilante” because Batman, but really? The injustice Sting chose to fight was the off chance that some big dude in a sheep mask might be fired for losing a wrestling match? Triple H tries to catch Sting off guard, but his play to grab his customary sledgehammer allows Sting to grab his trademark baseball bat, which he backs Triple H up with by sticking it to his throat. Sting says that he wants a match at WrestleMania, which he gets. Triple H’s second attempt at attacking Sting ends with him getting hit in the gut with the bat and dropped with the Scorpion Death Drop. This segment existed to give Sting a reason to point at the great WrestleMania logo in the sky with his baseball bat. Even today, it seems the general consensus is that Sting vs. The Undertaker is the preferred match-up, but this overlooks two crucial facts: Sting’s last great match probably happened in 1994, and The Undertaker wasn’t having great matches until around 1996. Of any “marquee” guy who can still have the occasional match, Triple H, garbed as Ric Flair’s protegé, is the one most able to do something with a 55-year-old man whose shine and mystique were largely wasted through a decade spent in TNA. Of all the “realities” wrestling has to face now, the biggest one is that a name like Sting’s “disappearance” can be explained by Wikipedia. Sting’s “legacy” has long been tarnished, and a match against The Undertaker at WrestleMania, even without The Streak on the line, is not how one rebuilds a legacy. I don’t have much faith that a Sting/Triple H match will be any good, let alone coax Sting into wrestling without wearing his goddamn t-shirt, but Triple H is smart enough and driven enough as he ages and starts to write his own legacy that he’ll get out of Steve Borden whatever he has left.

Sting and Triple H were going to be a hard act to follow even if the crowd was feeling it, but after a revisionist history of WCW lecture and a 30-second brawl that left two middle-aged men winded, the FexEx Forum was practically somnambulist for both the WWE Diva’s and Intercontinental Championship matches. To be fair, it’s not like they were given much reason to care about either, beyond the cult charisma of Paige, Bad News Barrett, and Dean Ambrose. While I am bone tired of women’s storylines centered around one woman or another not looking like a supermodel, the Bella Twins are rather natural heels, so it makes sense that they’d try to embarrass the pale “Anti Diva” by spray tanning her, stealing her mall punk gear, and so on. Tiresome but sensible is not high praise. The two had a great match on Main Event last year, and Nikki is nose-to-nose with Ryback for most improved wrestler, but nothing clicked here. Just a pile-up of moves until the Raw women’s match finish of a surprise roll-up. They tried to use a GoPro camera to show that Nikki had Paige’s belt, but a) if she cheated, she barely cheated, and b) if you’re going to wear stupid stuff in the ring, expect to have it used against you. Really, 90% of any Paige/Nikki Bella match should be Nikki trying to rip out Paige’s body piercings. Over on the men’s side of inadequate championship matches, Dean Ambrose wanted him some of Bad News Barrett because he thinks that the Intercontinental Championship should be worth something, and Bad News Barrett, on his fifth reign, hasn’t done much to raise that title’s prestige. That’s a fair enough critique, I suppose, though it really doesn’t help the previous few years of booking to point out how poorly the Intercontinental Championship has fared. Barrett’s a talented dude and Ambrose remains one of the more fascinating guys on the roster, but this match had nothing going for it. Nothing. Dean Ambrose is an UNHINGED LOOSE CANNON, but his spots are so routine you could compile a supercut of John Bradshaw Layfield saying that dropping an elbow on a standing opponent is crazy. Rudy Charles, already the goat for his performance during the Goldust/Stardust match, looks pretty bad again when he disqualifies Ambrose for beating Barrett up too much in the corner, ignoring the count which skips from three to five without much drama. That finish, I swear, is the worst thing the WWE has come up with over the past 10 years. What does it accomplish? Ambrose looks about as confused about the disqualification as Goldust was by his victory. He continues to stomp at Barrett, hits him with Dirty Deeds, then leaves with the title. Did he steal it, or did he give it back to Barrett backstage? I guess we’ll find out on Raw. Speaking of which, Bray Wyatt cut a live version of his pre-taped Raw promos on The Undertaker, this time employing the Deadman’s entrance music, druids, and casket motif. I really like Wyatt in the ring, but after a few years of hearing him speak I’m past the gimmick, which is pretty much listening to a sophomore in a dumb hat talk about Nietzsche. That’s not exactly Wyatt’s fault and he does it well, but he’s in a situation where they really need to pull the trigger on his winning a big, meaningful match or two, something to build on the following he’s managed to build and sustain despite every obstacle. A classic against The Undertaker at WrestleMania would help. Whether or not The Undertaker is capable of one at this late stage will remain unknown until March 29.

This was a wasted show until the United States Championship match. I say that as if the title matters, but really, it’s just the garnish to John Cena vs. Rusev, WWE’s spin on Rocky IV where Cena, fifteen time champion of the world, must play Apollo Creed first before he can become Rocky Balboa. John Cena has been the end game for Rusev since the Bulgarian debuted on the main roster during the Royal Rumble, and his rise serves both as a crucial ray of light in an otherwise dark period of WWE storytelling, and as proof that wrestling’s oldest formula’s still work. Cena, throughout this contest, is treated as an aging fighter whose best years may be behind him, as if he roundly crushed every wandering monster who passed his way. That’s not necessarily true, but the thought of Cena as a less than sure bet because he’s an old-model heavyweight against a guy like Rusev is appealing and works very well. Rusev and Cena hurl themselves at each other for nearly twenty minutes—even Rusev’s rest holds look snug enough to cause some damage. Where plenty of Cena matches lately have made his Attitude Adjustment finish look like an automatic two count until the twenty minute mark, Rusev’s strategy is to effectively avoid the move altogether, to counter out and hit Cena with one of his big, bruising strikes. Cena, meanwhile, needs to avoid Rusev’s Accolade. That a camel clutch works as a finish in 2015 is nigh miraculous, but Rusev and his opponents are able to make it look like a struggle. Mark Henry managed to shed a single tear for America before tapping out to it, and here John Cena pays a tremendous amount of respect to the big stomp Rusev uses to set the move up, rolling away or countering it into his own submission, the STF. John Cena’s character is never going to pull an about face and the boos he gets are never going to be the WWE’s intent, but its interesting to see him grow as a character in other ways. Getting older, for example, or the way he’ll add a new move to his arsenal because he knows everybody expects two shoulder tackles, a power bomb, a five knuckle shuffle, and an Attitude Adjustment. Here, it’s a tornado DDT that catches Rusev off guard, not to mention the rarely seen Crippler Crossface. Rusev is able to break that with his bare hands. He’s actually able to effectively counter or kick out of most of Cena’s bombs. When Cena finally lands the AA late in the match, it’s a triumph. When Rusev kicks out, it’s a surprise. The Accolade that finishes the match is great, due largely to Cena’s positioning and facial expressions. When Cena digs down deep and manages to stand with Rusev on his back, gets into the ring, United States Championship in hand, and argues with the referee. This gives Rusev an opening to kick Cena between the legs, kick him again in the face, and reapply the Accolade. Thus compromised, Cena is unable to fight back, and the referee has to call for the bell. This is a great match, one that leaves a little left in the tank for WrestleMania. I see criticisms of Rusev’s storylines all the time online, usually with the hashtag #RusevIsAFace, that say Rusev is either a bad heel or the folks who book his routine are stupid because he’s a proud immigrant with a smart woman by his side who wins most of his matches cleanly, and so on. That’s a fine argument for a smart fan to make, and there may be some merit to it, but most of the folks packed into a 15,000 seat arena aren’t “smart,” or, if they are, then its in the sense that they know this proud immigrant is a super athlete whose every action is meant to glorify the regime of a political figurehead who has committed a good number of human rights violations. Against John Cena, Rusev has moved beyond the tenants of Cold War wrestling storytelling by attacking the institution of John Cena. He’s a heel all the way, from the lack of respect he shows John Cena at the start of the match to the way he kicks him in the dick at the end. Cena’s Rocky moment is coming, and I can’t wait.

For most, however, the prospect of a good WrestleMania began with and was ended by Fastlane‘s main event, Daniel Bryan vs. Roman Reigns with a shot at Brock Lesnar and his WWE World Heavyweight Championship on the line. During the pre-show, Paul Heyman, interviewed by The Miz, said that his client didn’t care who won the main event. Daniel Bryan has the adulation of the crowd and Roman Reigns has the family pedigree, but Brock Lesnar has an inhuman desire to destroy every human he sees in a wrestling ring. Paul Heyman’s suggestion that the entire WWE roster line up to fight Brock Lesnar for the title was no joke: Lesnar is an otherworldly presence, and he is here to destroy the WWE Universe. It’s been obvious from the start that Roman Reigns would be the one to challenge Lesnar for the WWE World Heavyweight Championship, but Bryan was thrown in there to complicate things a bit by insinuating that he deserved a championship rematch, which, considering the circumstances under which he was stripped of the title last year, he certainly does. In my opinion, Daniel Bryan hasn’t been written too well since his return. He was booked poorly during a very bad Royal Rumble match, then came out on Raw as a man who felt so entitled to a championship match that he’d play The Authority’s game just for a shot. Reigns hasn’t been done any favors either, but he needed something to further validate him in the eyes of a die hard audience of Daniel Bryan fans who are never going to cotton to him and will go into WrestleMania chanting “YES!” until they’re blue in the face. So we’re given this match, its outcome dreaded and certain. What happens?

Well, first off, Daniel Bryan returns to the throne he abdicated to Seth Rollins as the best overall wrestler in WWE. Seriously. This is his first match of true consequence since returning, and he kills it, leading Reigns to what will likely stand as one of his best matches at the end of his career, but that probably isn’t even top 20 for Bryan. Too many times in “wrestling” matches, the competitors go through the motions of chain wrestling, working through wristlocks and hammerlocks and headlocks until some dude in the crowd yells “WRESTLING!” to get the crowd clapping politely. From the start, this is a fight. Daniel Bryan is the wrestler. Roman Reigns is the brawler. Bryan can and does outwrestle Reigns, but the Royal Rumble winner makes the former champion fight for everything. Daniel Bryan claims to have mastered over 100 submission moves. Focusing on Reigns’ legs, he breaks out more than a few, but those often bring him close enough to Reigns that one or two stiff shots are enough to cause a break. Reigns can live with Bryan that close, but needs space so that he can land his big moves, the spear and the Superman punch. The first time he goes for the punch, Bryan is able to sidestep Reigns and kick him in the stomach. This staggers Reigns for the rest of the match, as Bryan’s more pronounced mean streak comes out and his kicks move from trying to charlie-horse a leg to trying to make a man vomit. Reigns stays on his power game, though, powerbombing Bryan after blocking an attempted top rope rana and stopping a suicide dive with a belly-to-belly suplex. Despite that, Bryan is always a step ahead, always the veteran wrestler. He moves just in time to avoid a spear, sending Reigns into the ring steps. He counters a spear with a small package after being knocked for a loop by the Superman punch. Bryan seems to clinch the match with the running knee, but Reigns is the first to kick out of it. From there, the two take it into another gear. Daniel Bryan kicks Reigns in the face until Reigns catches the foot and dares Bryan to do something. Bryan responds with a number of slaps, but Reigns is having none of it until Bryan goes for a cross armbreaker. When that doesn’t work, Bryan transitions into the YES! Lock, which Reigns manages to slip before laying Bryan out with some nasty forearms. The sequence gets even better from there, with Reigns over a seemingly prone Bryan, as the wrestler manages to surprise the brawler with a triangle choke attempt. Reigns uses his overwhelming power advantage to pick Bryan up off the canvas with a sit-out powerbomb. After an eight count, they exchange punches and kicks from the ground until Bryan gets the advantage and hits his big kick to Reigns’ temple. This is the set-up for a second attempt at the running knee, but Reigns recovers while Bryan is mid-sprint and manages a spear, which sends him to WrestleMania. Nobody is happy about this finish, but that does nothing to diminish what is a great effort on the part of two men. One found his footing again and is in good position for another chase at the championship depending on what his WrestleMania program is. The other pulled his weight, too, so much that any doubt about his ability to perform at a high level on a big stage should be assuaged. Should be, but who knows. Reigns is still wrestling with the crutch of The Shield supporting him. He’s still got their music, their entrance, and their gear. What he doesn’t have, even at the end of the night, is the crowd’s support as a WrestleMania main eventer. The WWE has five weeks to make that happen. Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you see it), every move the WWE has made since WrestleMania XXX goes to show that, in wrestling, even just one week can feel like an eternity.

Results

Seth Rollins, Kane, and Big Show def. Dolph Ziggler, Ryback, and Erick Rowan via pinfall. GRADE: B-
Goldust def. Stardust via pinfall. GRADE: C
WWE Tag Team Championship Match: Tyson Kidd and Cesaro (w/Natalya) def. The Usos (Jimmy and Jey, w/Naomi, Champions) via pinfall to win the titles. GRADE: C+
WWE Diva’s Championship: Nikki Bella (w/Brie Bella, Champion) def. Paige via pinfall. GRADE: C-
WWE Intercontinental Championship: Bad News Barrett (Champion) def. Dean Ambrose via disqualification. GRADE: C-
WWE United States Championship: Rusev (w/Lana, Champion) def. John Cena via referee stoppage. GRADE: A-
Roman Reigns def. Daniel Bryan via pinfall. GRADE: A

Wrestling Review: WWE Raw (10/22/14)

August 12, 2014 by Colette Arrand Leave a Comment

Last night, I watched wrestling. This is admittedly nothing new. Since the advent of the WWE Network, I watch wrestling every day, sometimes for hours. I’m writing a book of poetry about wrestling, I run a few Tumblrs about wrestling—it all comes with the territory. But last night I watched Raw, which I haven’t gotten a chance to do much this summer because the work that I’ve done this summer and the reason I do it often leaves me scrambling to bask in the warm glow of nostalgia. Though I can’t imagine a scenario where my friends and I don’t gather in my new house to watch the WWE Network’s less-than-stellar stream of Summerslam this Sunday, anything going on right now serves as a less-than-welcome reminder that soon enough I’ll be sitting down in front of a computer to listen to the rich talk about the problems inherent with having only a million dollars put away in an IRA. But it’s Hulk Hogan’s birthday, and even though The Hulkster now exists largely to talk about the virtues of the WWE Network (which, at 700,000 subscribers paying $9.99 a month to watch video footage Vince McMahon acquired for pennies on the dollar, is somehow considered a failure because the world of business has rules as made up, impenetrable, stupid, and fake as professional wrestling), I love the big orange bastard and always will. True fact: I went to WrestleMania XXX this year mostly because I wanted to see a 60 year old man rip his shirt off and flex his ancient muscles. When he messed up and called the Superdome the Silverdome (where he body slammed Andre the Giant some 27 WretleManias earlier), I was the only person in the arena not booing, because that was my WrestleMania, brother. The one in Detroit. The one that set the records. The Greatest Night In the History of Our Sport.

I had to get through three hours of Raw for Hulk Hogan’s birthday celebration, which, frankly, is insane. Exactly zero things on television this side of a holiday marathon of The Twilight Zone should last three hours, but that’s exactly what Raw does: It lasts. It staggers. It lurches. It finishes, out of breath and somehow overtime, maneuvering its various pieces around in an effort to hide the fact that nothing is happening. The recurring theme of an episode of Raw these days is the price point of the WWE Network, where, oddly, you can’t watch Raw, because even though Vince McMahon has cast his lot with the future, he still finds his business shackled to the mediums of the past. 700,000 is, to me, an impressive number of human beings who are willing to pay for access to a staggering number of frankly mediocre wrestling shows, but the last I checked, the average episode of Raw manages to pull in 3,000,000, and they sit through ads for things like Juicy Drop Pops and Sonic Chili Cheese Dogs. They’ll sit through the not-infrequent advertisements that air during an episode of Raw, too, where the comedic wrestlers on the show shill food or beverage in a way that makes me wish I couldn’t ingest things. But I can, and I do. Often during wrestling. Tonight, it was curry. Sunday, when my $9.99 will allow me to watch Summerslam? Who knows? Summerslam was the focus of tonight’s episode of Raw, as all of the men and women who will have matches on the show did their bit to advance their storyline to the point where that match would take on some semblance of meaning. Some of the matches on Summerslam, you can tell, are just there to eat the clock. While I know a lot of people are looking forward to Dean Ambrose vs. Seth Rollins, and while I suppose it makes a certain amount of sense that a feud based on one man’s quest to hunt down another who keeps running away would come to a head in a lumberjack match—that’s a match where the ring is surrounded by the wrestlers who will not be wrestling that evening—Ambrose and Rollins work much better when they have the arena as their playground. Similarly, an old-school Russia vs. USA Flag Match—the winner is the man who retrieves his flag from a pole that rises high above the ring—seems like a fun idea, but the WWE writer’s room stopped having interesting-if-poorly-informed things to say about the current political situation in Russia a few months ago, and Tea Party Patriot cum hirsute manager Zeb Coulter (picture Yosemite Sam on a fly fishing trip) constantly making reference to Rocky and Bullwinkle isn’t going to make Rocky IV feel any fresher in 2014.

But WWE can do a remarkable job of promoting a big match, and that is the axis upon which Summerslam revolves, the WWE World Heavyweight Championship clash between 15-time champion John Cena and unleashed Kraken Brock Lesnar. I like John Cena. I really like John Cena. I think the first John Cena match I saw was against Rob Van Dam at a WWE-produced revival of Extreme Championship Wrestling, a 90s entity that is responsible for revolutionizing wrestling in a number of ways large and small, one of which was to turn every professional wrestling fan over the age of 25 into an overly-entitled rage monster. I wasn’t watching wrestling much in 2006, but I remembered and liked ECW, so I went to a Buffalo Wild Wings in Taylor, Michigan to watch the somewhat local ECW legend Van Dam (from Battle Creek, MI) finally ascend to the WWE Championship (something I’d “borrowed” my mom’s credit card a few times to see in 2001, though Van Dam never clinched the title). ECW One Night Stand took place in the Hammerstein Ballroom in New York City, which was a major hotbed for the organization when it was a real thing and not a marketing tool, and which remains a magnet for large independent wrestling events to this day. When John Cena’s music hit, 2,460 adult human beings really got on John Cena’s case for daring to be a professional wrester. He wore jean shorts, sneakers, and useless sweatbands, sure, but watching Cena go to work in that environment, 2,460 human adults chanting things like “Cena swallows” (a “hardcore” addendum to the time-tested chant of “Cena sucks”), I was won over by him immediately. By the time the people in the Buffalo Wild Wings, several thousand miles from New York City, started joining in on the chants emanating from the Hammerstein Ballroom, I knew I had a new favorite wrestler.

And so it’s been for me since then, which is a decision that’s treated me well. I’m into wrestling for the wrestling matches these days, and more often than not, on big shows, against big opponents, John Cena has one hell of a match. My favorite John Cena match in the past few years was the one that he had against Brock Lesnar at Extreme Rules in 2012, a stupidly named and often poorly booked show of “hardcore” matches that exists as a way to get a few thousand extra orders on a show that isn’t WrestleMania or Summerslam and that should go away post-haste, since the WWE Network exists, and, for $9.99, I’d watch WWE Singles Match if that’s what they wanted to call the damn thing. Cena vs. Lesnar had happened before, when John Cena was new and Brock Lesnar was thinking about quitting wrestling to try out for the National Football League, but I wasn’t watching and neither man was the symbol they’d become by the time 2012 brought Lesnar back to the world of fake fighting. Cena was the face of the WWE. Lesnar had gone legit, capturing the UFC Heavyweight Championship and maneuvering that sport towards an atmosphere that looked and sounded a lot like WWE, just without the benefit of goosed narratives. Diverticulitis took Lesnar out of the UFC, and a gigantic contract brought him back to a limited schedule of dates for the WWE. Now he functions much like Godzilla: When a major event comes around, he surfaces, wrecks a bunch of stuff, and leaves. He is the closest thing we have on this planet to a legitimate movie monster, and he is a glorious thing to behold. I love John Cena, but I want to see Brock Lesnar break him in half. I want him to make it look easy, like he’s hanging out on his ranch, shooting rifles with his brother, and eating a pile of terrible submarine sandwiches. Because John Cena is at his absolute best against guys like Lesnar, who are so good at the work they’ve been put here to do that they hate that work and the people who’d pay to witness it. Cena is great when he has to work for something, and ridding the WWE of the guy who crushed The Undertaker at WrestleMania, whose 21-0 streak going into WrestleMania XXX was the only thing in wrestling that could be said to mean more than any given title, is the only something left.

This episode of Raw presented something of a debate between Lesnar—represented by his advocate, Paul Heyman—and Cena; two extended interview segments that were both quite good. Heyman rapped, which, when you’re a 48-year-old man who was once prominently billed as “The Psycho Yuppie,” sounds more like Dr. Seuss than N.W.A., and Cena spoke largely about passion, how he has it, and how Lesnar’s lack of it means that he doesn’t deserve the WWE World Heavyweight Championship. Heyman hit his peak a few weeks ago when he brought Lesnar out as the man who would conquer John Cena’s 15th reign as champion and has been coasting a bit since—making fun of Cena’s origins as the horrible white rapper from the mean streets of West Newbury has been a thing since Cena was that character—but that’s kind of the point. He’s the dude standing behind King Kong. He doesn’t need to try very hard, because even a subpar effort from Paul Heyman on the microphone is museum quality compared to anybody else in the game.

This was made painfully obvious by the evening’s other large piece of non-physical storytelling, the ongoing saga of Brie Bella and Stephanie McMahon. An offshoot of last summer’s program that saw the rise of bearded populist hero Daniel Bryan in the face of a heartless corporate power structure that didn’t get why arenas across the country were making a big deal out of a guy they’d branded “goat face,” Bryan’s triumph at WrestleMania XXX (he beat Triple H, the head of the Authority, and then defeated Randy Orton and Batista to become the WWE World Heavyweight Champion) quickly turned sour, as his father died and he suffered a severe neck injury. This has caused him to relinquish the championship and largely disappear from television as he rehabs en route to an eventual return. Since, they’ve shunted the Bryan vs. Authority storyline to Brie Bella and Stephanie McMahon, the wives (in reality and in wrestling) of Bryan and Triple H.

Sometimes, when Stephanie McMahon is leading Brie through segments, everything is fine. Stephanie McMahon has grown considerably as a character over the past 15 years of her being in the spotlight, and is perhaps the second best Evil Boss character in the history of the medium, behind only her father. Brie Bella…is not good at talking. That’d be fine in a reality television show, where she actually thrives, but in a storyline that requires her to garner sympathy from an arena full of angry dudes, it’s going to take more than blackmailing the boss and calling her a bitch every week to get people invested. So this week, Stephanie brought out Daniel Bryan’s personal trainer, who awkwardly admitted to having an affair with the former champion, Brie’s husband, etc. This was, I guess, supposed to embarrass Brie Bella, but the segment was mostly terrible because, for starters, the woman playing the physical therapist was an atrocious actor even by wrestling standards. McMahon intimating Bryan’s cries “Yes! Yes! Yes!” in a tone suggesting the fake pornographic moans of an Herbal Essences commercial was funny, and I guess it makes sense that a heel would resort to slutshaming (the poor physical therapist is there in the corner watching McMahon imitate her during sex) in an effort to make the live fans cheer for Brie, but I checked out on this angle around the time McMahon was thrown into a gigantic kiddie pool of human waste, and whatever loyalty I have to Daniel Bryan doesn’t automatically transfer over to his spouse, because that isn’t how well-developed characters are created. Still, McMahon vs. Bella is the second most important match on the second most important show on the WWE calendar, and the crowd absolutely eats it up whenever the two get into a physical confrontation. There’s probably something to be said about the fact that these confrontations have been built around the signature moves of their husbands, but I’m not swimming through the kiddie pool of human waste to retrieve it. Therein you’ll probably also find a salient point about the biggest insult hurled by McMahon or Bella, beyond “bitch,” is the insinuation that Brie Bella is not good at sexually satisfying Daniel Bryan, which is, I guess, the job you sign up for when you get married.

Finally, Brock Lesnar crashed Hulk Hogan’s birthday party, because of course he did. “Party’s over, grandpa,” he said, leering like the villain of an 80s film. Brock Lesnar is there to beat up the collective childhoods of everybody in that arena—beyond Hogan, the ring had filled with Roddy Piper, Ric Flair, the nWo of Scott Hall and Kevin Nash, “Mean” Gene Okerlund, Jimmy Hart, and “Mr. Wonderful” Paul Orndorff. John Cena saved the day, because of course he did, but that doesn’t matter much. Nothing happened between he and Lesnar, because that can wait until Sunday, until Summerslam, until you’ve given up $9.99 for it and the rest of the card. Before those two had their final confrontation, and before all of the old-timers came out and Scott Hall had a bit of fun running through his old nWo catchphrases and Hogan ripped off his red and yellow Hulkamania shirt to reveal the black and white New World Order shirt beneath, Gene Okerlund directed Hogan’s attention to the video screen, where a legitimately touching tribute to Hogan played. It was set to Bob Dylan’s “Forever Young.” Hulk Hogan is 61 now, and while he can come out and run through the catchphrases and rip his shirt off and do the same bodybuilding poses I saw as a four-year old, he’s never going to wrestle again. Time has officially caught up to Hulk Hogan, and seeing clips of him dropping leg after leg to Dylan was strange at first, somehow dissonant to what Hogan was, until it hit me that, well, it kind of fit. The Ultimate Warrior died this year. Randy Savage died in 2011.”When you turn 61-years-young,” Hogan said, bringing down the energy after mustering a bit of that vintage Hogan hype, “you start to reflect back on a few things.”

Nothing Hogan could say on a night that ended with him cutting into a birthday cake festooned with candles spelling out “9.99” was going to reach the zenith of what turned out to be the final public appearance of The Ultimate Warrior, but last night, The Immortal Hulk Hogan pondered his mortality. And while the footage of his staring down Brock Lesnar will likely be replayed over and over for the next year, if not longer, the fact that there was no physical altercation between the two—not even Lesnar shoving Hogan to the mat, which would have blown the roof off of the building—speaks volumes about what Hulk Hogan is capable of in 2014. Hulkamania may be willing, brother, but all the training, prayers, and vitamins in the world can’t stop time. Beyond a paycheck, this is why someone like Hulk Hogan might be interested in forking over $9.99 for the WWE Network. Not for Summerslam, which will be there regardless, but because he’ll be dropping legs and shredding t-shirts on it forever, immortal, as promised. For a wrestler—for the wrestler—that’s not a bad legacy.

Results:

Paul Heyman addressed Brock Lesnar’s upcoming match against John Cena by “rapping.” Since he did so without a beat, one could even say he freestyled.
Roman Reigns def. RybAxel (Ryback and Curtis Axel) via disqualification.
Bray Wyatt and Chris Jericho had a face-to-face confrontation that was lifted entirely from The Silence of the Lambs.
Seth Rollins def. Rob Van Dam via pinfall. After the match, Dean Ambrose emerged from a giant gift box to attack Rollins, who ran away through the crowd.
Stephanie McMahon interviewed Daniel Bryan’s physical therapist, who admitted to having an affair with Bryan. This led Bryan’s wife, Brie Bella, to slap the therapist and attack McMahon, putting her in Bryan’s signature finishing maneuver, the Yes! Lock.
Jack Swagger def. Cesaro via submission. He then stared down Rusev, their inactivity a metaphor for the Cold War.
Eva Marie def. WWE Diva’s Champion AJ Lee by pinfall due to a distraction by Paige, who then read a terrible poem to mock her “frienemy,” which is an awful word to hear a trio of middle-aged men repeat seven or eight times in six minutes.
John Cena called out Brock Lesnar, who did not respond.
Brie Bella vs. Stephanie McMahon did not occur, as Brie Bella was arrested for assaulting Daniel Bryan’s physical therapist.
Heath Slater def. Dolph Ziggler via count-out, as The Miz was distracting Ziggler from the announce table.
Randy Orton def. WWE United States Champion Sheamus by pinball.
Hulk Hogan’s birthday party was interrupted by Brock Lesnar. The assembled old folks there to celebrate Hogan’s 61 years of Hulkamania running wild were saved from a beating by John Cena. Rather than fight, Lesnar ditched the ring, saving the inevitable clash for this Sunday’s Summerslam.

Rating:

For no reason other than that they played him down to the ring to it last night, be sure to listen to Paul Orndorff’s brilliant theme song: