It’s strange how a change of scenery can change yer perception on something eh. I remember a few months back when I first got back intae watching TNA, and I saw Hogan try tae steal the spotlight every fuckin week, chattin aw sorts of shite, gettin folk’s names wrang, forcing his bawjawed daughter on us and just generally ruining TNA from within. He didnae belong there. It’s as simple as that. TNA wis a company known for innovation, and being a viable alternative to the WWE. Never in danger of overtaking it in terms of market share, but a true alternative for wrestling fans. There’s nae space for a deluded auld cunt wae a misplaced sense of importance in a place like that, but in the WWE? Theres always a place. That’s why we’re gonnae continue tae see Triple H work dire WM matches when hes well intae his 50s, and fuds like Batista are tolerated. Cause the WWE is aw about makin that cash money ma man, and for aw his problems, and the current apathy a lot of wrestling fans have for the withered auld toad, he still sells t-shirts. His theme music could still pop any crowd in the world, and I don’t limit that tae wrestling either. Ye could play that fuckin thing at a Lionel Ritchie concert, n ye’d have middle aged wuman tying their blouses roon their heids and grilling youngsters aboot their vitamin and prayer intake. My point wae this wee ramble? Is there ever wan? Anyway, the point is. Hogan opened the show. Hogans theme opened the show, and whilst on the outside I kept the usual calm demeanour thats show me win numerous games of online checkers; on the inside I wis screamin like a wee lassie. A wee lassie who’d just been told she got tickets tae go n see The Singing Kettle no less! (or whitever the fuck weans are intae these days..Clifford The Big Rid Dug or suhin) Ye see when I wis a youngster, all I ever wanted tae be was Hulk Hogan. I thought that wis a real job. When Hulk retired, they’d be haudin vest ripping auditions for his successor. Me.
Pittin this up cause its funny and he’s ma pal, but I refuse tae make anything bold. Nor do I endorse any of the blatantly antagonistic patter towards myself..and you, the audience.
Ahhhh Minneapolis. The city that gave us the greatest musician of all time, now gives us the greatest PPV of February 2014. I say that as if it’s a great city, but these are literally the only 2 significant things to occur in that absolute shitter of a city. I’ve never been, and I widnae want tae. Welcome to my Elimination Chamber review.
Sometimes it disnae matter who emerges from a PPV with the big belts. Even if thats the PPV that shapes the Wrestlemania card more than any other. The belts didnae matter a fuck when this yin ended cause the next generation lets us aw know that they were ready. Its time for the next batch of genuine stars tae take over and lead us intae an era of cunts who captivate us. Cunts who understand the art of storytelling. The type of characters who get on that fuckin mic, and makes ye put down yer Tuna Melt, roll yer chair right next tae the tele so its like he’s cuttin the promo right in yer face. I’m talking about Bray Wyatt. I’m talking about Dean Ambrose. I’m talking about the walking spearing orgasm known as Roman fuckin Reigns. I’m talkin about Luke Harper. I’m of course talking about the shimmering man chest Big E is sporting. I’m talkin about the whole lot of yees. The Usos, Rowan, the selling machine known as Seth Rollins. Yer aw ready troops, and I know I’m no only speaking for myself when I say…we’re ready for ye. Ready for ye tae main event the rest of our fuckin lives, tae yer sons n daughters get auld enough tae take over.
So aye….wrestling show.
So Edinburgh got pumped again. In perhaps the most chaotic way yet. Admittedly I missed the first show ICW ran in Edinburgh, but unless there wis a tank and an incredibly hungry Lion involved somewhere, there’s nae chance it matched the carnage that came wae ICWs first ever Edinburgh Street Fight. Glesga’s been tore enough new arses, it wis time tae show the capital how orchestrated violence can look so convincing sometimes, it leads tae the polis being phoned. I reckon the polis showing up is a sign that yer doing it right more than anything else, so I’m sure everyone involved wurnae bothering their arses when it occurred. Before that utter mayhem got under way, we had a stoater of an undercard tae get through, so I’ll try n walk ye through it eh. I know the Square Go review wis a wee bit sketchy on the details, but I have various personal excuses fur that naecunt will really gie a fuck aboot, so we’ll move past it eh. Water under the bridge.
I got in 5 minutes late, so unfortunately I missed most of the bold Billy Kirkwoods patter, but I didnae miss him introducing his broadcast colleague for the evening and I didnae miss how much of a hilarious cunt he is. It wis yer DCT, retired ref and 2 time Square Go entrant (totalling about 3 seconds of action) and he wis now apparently a PIMP, as he came strollin oot shirtless, wae Leah Owens in tow, and the maist baw huggin tights on ye’ll ever see. Tae cut a ong story short, if ye ever need DCT, just dial 69-69-0-0-0. Also, if ye were in the crowd, you’re carrying DCTs wean noo, and it already has a tash.
Another pilgrimage tae Edinburgh aye? Would love tae tell ye I’m sick of the sight of the fuckin place, but I actually grow to appreciate it more and more with each visit. If ye can look past the cunts bumpin intae ye, and looking at yer withered Glaswegian face and sighing to themselves, its actually a nice city. Aesthetically pleasing, and the roaster-to-ride ratio burd wise is far more favourable than it is in Glesga (Talking about the City Centre there eh, I assume as ye move towards Tynecastle, the landscape becomes more dense wae those of the snaggletoothed persuasion) Anyway aye. Wrestling! Thats what we’re aw here for eh? A wee streetfight, some titles on the line, a couple of fractured tag teams going head to head, and eh….Mikey Whiplash quite possibly reducing oor Yum Yum tae something resembling the baked good he shares a name wae. So without further ado, lets preview.
For those of you who don’t know me personally, its important that you’re made aware of how much I admire Mick Foley. I was going to use the word ‘love’ there, but I’ve come to learn over the years that you should only utter that word when you’ve really thought it through, or if the context you’re using it in is regarding drenching a Bacon Double Cheeseburger in BBQ Sauce sauce and devouring that shit. So for now, I’ll hold off on telling Mick I love him.
Imagine sitting doon tae preview a WWE PPV and ye find yersell with nothing but hope and a tingling in the testicles for it. A unique proposition tae say that least. Not that I anticipate this being any less arse bursting than most of the PPVs from the tail end of last year, but d’ye know whit? It has the Wyatts vs The Shield, and a wee chance that either Daniel Bryan or Antonio Cesaro could stroll oot wae aw the belts, so for those reason I’m gonnae allow that pure, unfiltered, rarefied optimism tae flow aw the way from ma chest pubes, right down tae ma ball fro.
TNA In Glesga mate. TNA in Glesga and I’m no talkin about legs n co. Its Glesga, its TNA. Did I mention it wis TNA in Glesga? Hydro. Wrestling. TNA. GLESGAAAAAAAAA.
Fuck knows what’s in store. I’ve reviewed TNA once in about 2 months. It fuckin broke ma spirit tbh, particularly reviewing it in plain english without swearing, but see since its in Glesga, and I’m fae a wee toon just outside Glesga, I’m gonnae make a point to be saying a lot of Glesga things throughout this piece. Early reports on the twitter are suggesting problems with the big screen, and to that I say this….so fuck. Assuming its like most episodes of Impact, there’ll only be about 4 matches anyway, and ye dont need a big screen tae hear Dixie Carter screech at cunts.
Because why the fuck not? He might not have been the most significant guy in wrestling, nor wis he ever a particularly brilliant wrestler, but for the best part of 15 years he was a fuckin workhorse for WWE. A super heavyweight who could be relied upon for at least half decent matches. The man who paved the way for wrestlers wae magnificant man diddies, tae whap them oot and wave them aboot.
Haud oan. Did I just see John Cena run doon the ramp tae open RAW and he DIDNAE have any patter for the camera guy? did that happen? is this real life? Aw christ, I hope they huvnae fell oot or anything. Life can be tough on the road sometimes. Squabbles are commonplace when overfamiliarity leads to contempt. Contempt eventually becomes indifference and all of a sudden the Cena and Stu story is at an end. Infact..is his name even Stu? I cannae mind. Why are we even talking about this guys, there’s wrasslin tae be reviewin.
As much as I respect and admire Cena, the promo he cut here has been redundant for aboot 10 year. Somethin about bein on the road tae wrestlemania, but some folk want tae kick him oot the motor. Ye whit? Unless yer daein incredibly eggy farts in a tin and smashin folk over the heid wae it, I really dunno why folk would want ye out the car John son. Cesaro comes out and ends the monotony wae some patter about Cena not being the only one tae beat Orton last week. Cesaro is so confident of becoming the new champion, that he completely obliterated his first name. Didnae need it anymore. When yer the perfect physical specimen fae heid tae toe, and ye can cut promos in 17 different languages, there is no real reason for any sort of reliance on a first name. Sheamus came oot next and said things. Somethin about Cena and Cesaro lookin mega silly when he kicks their teeth in. Christian comes oot on a micro scooter and gies it some patter about how he’s gonnae knock Sheamus’ snaggletooth oot wae the killswitch and Cenas’s like “dude, micro scooters are so 2004, whats the matter with you?” and Christian’s like “so’s yer fuckin haircut” and he wheeled off intae the night. Orton came oot, wedged his two belts together between the top and middle turnbuckle, coated them in butter and made sweet tender love to them while the rest of the competitors took overly detailed (but vital) notes. Then I stopped making shit up, cause Daniel Bryan came oot next, and when Daniel Bryan speaks…ye listen.
He talks about how aw the other guys have done a lot of talking (and christ, he wisnae wrang…shut the fuck up troops) but the crowd are daein his talking for him. He tells us aw the whole arena will be chanting YES! at Elimination Chamber. Know where else that’ll be happening? Right here ma man. I’ll be staunin oan ma chair, baws oot n swingin them aboot, YES!’in so hard I forget tae breathe. Thats how Kofi Kingston got that concaved chest btw. Sittin in the hoose watchin the 1995 Royal Rumble, and when Max Moon came oot he couldnae stop screamin “MAAAAAAAXY!” and eventually his chest just gies up bein of a normal human shape. Know whit else? Kane came oot and announced Cesaro vs Cena for later and Christian vs Daniel Bryan, which would be taking place…RIGHT NOW!