Unless you’ve been living under a stone, or a particularly heavy-set human being over the past couple of weeks, it won’t have escaped yer attention that our very own Drew McIntyre had his reign as WWE’s token Scottish guy that folk can understand ended at the merciless hands of Vince McMahon. Or Triple H. Or whoever the fuck handles releases. Point is, some cunt, or a collection of cunts had a wee chat about it, and decided that they didnae need any incredibly talented, dashing Scottish bastards entering their prime. That’s no the kind of thing WWE are looking for at the moment Drew. We’d rather have ye job to tiny Mexican bulls, and go about with a kid on band, whilst we tease Triple H becoming a main eventer again, and seriously consider giving John Cena is 50021th World Title reign at Money In The Bank this Sunday. Whilst Drews boaby got him in the bad books in the first place, the fact that he remained in the bad books for so long is nothing short of negligence on WWEs part. Simple as that. It’s a case of people who are paid to spot and nurture talent properly just not doing their fucking jobs.
When Drew was initially brought in to WWE programming, he was pushed as “The Chosen One” . Yees aw know that. Of course ye do. I’m bringing it in as important subject matter for the point I’m about tae make awrite? Bear with me and we’ll get there. The Chosen One angle wis a bit of a groundbreaking thing in WWE, and it was one of the first things to blur the lines between conversations that have been going on backstage for decades, but never acknowledged on TV, and the finished product that we all see. WWE always have a guy. The guy who they have big plans for. The next guy they’re gien the ball tae. Right now that guy is Roman Reigns. So he goes over strong in the bigger moments. Think about it. Every single big moment The Shield have been involved in over the past year, no matter if its them emerging in triumph, or all three of them lying in a heap, after seeing their collective erse toed by Evolution, The Wyatts, or aw the spare heels fae the locker room. He’s the guy. The Chosen One angle was the first time the concept of WWE having “a guy” was brought tae our attention. Even if that angle didn’t necessarily mean Drew was “The Guy” backstage, he was still someone they wanted to appear in that role, which is hugely significant in its own right.
That was followed up by a decent Intercontinental Title reign, and some properly evil heel work in an angle wae Smackdown GM Teddy Long, where he often called Teddy out for his abject speckiness, having nae spine, and having “Really fat weans”.
He pretty much bullied our Teddy until his brain entered a trauma induced loop, where all he could dae is run out and make impromptu tag matches and tell folk they were about go “ONE on ONE with the Undertaker playas”
The point is Drew was the big man on campus. Drew was a big fuckin deal. Drew was the right age, and had all the ingredients WWE look for in their stars. Wrestling ability, mic skills, having a sexy accent, having a great finisher, and lets face it, the cunt’s fuckin handsome. He alluded to it himself on Jerichos podcast, but it disnae take a genius tae figure out that he has an aesthetically pleasing coupon. He also happens to be 6 foot 5, making him the tallest man in the history of Scotland. The rest of us are wee fat pies in comparison. Cause scrannin chippies, and smoking through the wee air vent in yer grannies spare room seemingly stunts yer growth. Who fuckin knew eh?
So what the fuck happened? When did the fall from grace begin. Well it began the same way as it does for most red blooded Scottish males. It began at the hands (and face, erse, tits and other desirable body parts) of a temptress. A temptress named Taryn Terrell. It was a whirlwind romance which saw Drew propose to her whilst bawdeep in her for the first time. So transfixed on her beautiful bouncing soulfulness, and her shapely conversational skills, he had tae lock that personality down for keeps. Drew was quite taken with Taryn, and had to make her his right away. They got married in Vegas and were all set tae chase the WWE dream together. Less than a year later it all fell apart for the young lovers, as they were forced to go their separate ways. The reason separation was forced upon them varies depending on whit scurrilous rumour ye trust, but the reasons don’t matter a fuck. The reason could have been Drew wiping his boaby on Taryns favourite towel after he had a sly bathroom chug. The reason could be Taryn found that sullied towel, tied it roon Drews neck and threatened to ‘Kill him with the same gene ridden man mist that created him’. It disnae matter a fuck why that ended or why it derailed Drews push to the top, what matters is how he would react when that push was taken from him. Even amidst further personal troubles, namely the death of Drews beloved mother in late 2012, Drew remained dutiful. Drew gave his all to what some would deem as a punishment, being placed in 3MB alongside the original One Man Band Heath Slater, and Jinder Mahal.
When 3MB first came about, I’ll no lie tae ye, I fuckin hated it wae every fibre of my being. Not only did it lead tae the destruction of Heath Slaters one man band gimmick, which I thought he was doing to perfection, but it marked the dawn of a new era for Drew (If I refer tae any more new eras dawning, I’m gonnae say “Dawn of a Drew Era” fae now on, cause I just thought of that, and its money baby) and that era wisnae about being The Chosen One, or being really nasty tae Teddy Long. It wis about jobbing. Or as it was put on Jerichos podcast “Eating mountains of shite, and pretending they’re smelly Freddos” Or words tae that effect, I may be paraphrasing there. Point is, Drew and the boys were fed aw the shite. Unimaginable piles of dung. Heaps of it. And somehow they made it work for them. Somehow amidst aw the jobbing to wee bulls, and jobbing to any tag team, singles competitor, or particularly lifelike inanimate object that had ay relevance, 3MB gained a following. They turned the unheralded practice of jobbing intae a fuckin artform, and considering they’re all talented enough wrestlers, that merits a push for all three if ye ask me. Jinder isnae the most charismatic of cunts like, but ye could do SOMETHIN wae him. Heath was already established as a move selling genius and could quite easily provide comic relief and believability to a big time heel, so that would leave Drew tae re-take his spot on the road to stardom, cause we’ve been over it before eh. He has all the things THEY tell ye they’re looking for. Big strapping bastard, wae a great finisher, cool accent and btw, in case ye didnae know, he can clear the top rope. 6 foot 5, great at wrestling, even better at jumping, whit more do yees need exactly?
Apparently they needed a lot more. Cause after a glorious failure ridden 2 years with 3MB, our Drew was released along with Jinder (Hindering him in the process) and with that, the dream died. For now anyway. Ye have to ask yersel’ why its dead though. Is Drew still being punished for having his mind elsewhere and thinking wae his boaby for a while? By Vince McMahon? Vince mate, the kettle phoned, told me “Vince McMahons a pot” I said “Whit?!” He said “You’ll get it eventually” and hung up. I still don’t get what the kettle wis trying tae say, but I will tell ye that Vince McMahon should stop being such a fuckin hypocrite. And don’t think we all don’t know yer wee shaky legged walk ye dae for yer entrance is bumped from Jimmy Calderwood (A Scottish Football manager for those reading this not clued up on the managerial history of Dunfermline Athletic)
Is he being punished for being pre-occupied with thoughts of his sick mother? Did he give Linda McMahon the Sandow treatment, and no phone her the next morning after a night of eye contactless, passion free lovemaking, or did they just forget he was positively brimming wae talent? Either way, for now, Drew McIntyres WWE dream lies in tatters. For reasons which don’t make sense on the wrestling front, but it might be the best thing that’s ever happened tae him. Its been about 3 years since he was working singles matches where ye might consider him a candidate to get the odd win. He insists he’s as sharp as ever, but there’s nae way he could be. How can ye keep that edge when all you’ve been handed in 3 years is platefuls of shite? Athletes need variety in their diet. Athletes need protein shakes, steaks and marshmallows wae caramel in the middle. As The Big Guy will happily tell ye, athletes need FEED.
Effectively that’s what Drew will get as he returns to where he started on the indie scene. A right good feeding. He’ll have a variety of opponents, in various different settings, and he’ll be the main man. Every fuckin night unless somecunt books CM Punk. He’ll be the guy. He’ll be the one expected tae win. He’ll be the one with a degree of control over his own destiny. Some might see it as backwards step, but I see it as the a necessary one. If Drew’s ever gonnae get another shot at the big time, he needs tae become known for the things that got him noticed in the first place. He needs tae be that scary big bastard, who intimidates his opponents, and unsuspecting weans in the crowd. He needs tae be that striking big dreamboat that makes aw the lassies flutter in the fandan. He needs tae get a buzz about him again, and whilst he would have had every right tae expect another shot at a run in WWE after taking aw the shite they could sling in his direction whilst in 3MB, it didn’t come, and he’s not going to sit about feeling sorry for himself in the meantime.
Already confirmed for a booking wae FWE in America, and also confirmed for a homecoming tour with dates announced for BCW, and Wrestlezone back in Scotland, with rumours rife that he might make an appearance with ICW at their next show in Glasgow also. It’s time for oor Drew to dust himself down, survey the landscape and make his mark on professional wrestling all over again. It’s time for him to be Drew Galloway. For me he’s tailor-made for Japan, with his size, image and most importantly his style in the ring. Imagine him heading up a Bullet Club type faction full of the cream of the crop in Scotland? The Coffeys, Noam Dar and Wolfgang or suhin. Imagine that shit. I’m away getting excited about unlikely stuff here right enough, but its all there for Drew. He just has tae reach out and grab it once again. With 15 years experience under his belt at the tender age of 29, there’s nae reason why he can’t come back stronger than ever in a year or two. Futureshock DDT’ing cunts so hard, they wind up no even in the picture.
Since we’re Drew daft the day, the video is of course a Drew match. A wee match between him and Daniel Bryan before one got a really huge push, and the other got pushed oot the door.
Long Live 3MB.