I don’t think the news about Warrior really hit me until RAW kicked off this week. I know that’s daft, but I think it kinda went by in a haze for me personally. He’s no been a lasting favourite of mine. I remember being daft on him when I was wee, but as things started tae emerge about how he wis as a person, I found myself soured towards him. Ye’d like tae think a lot of that anger and resentment built up from his acrimonious relationship wae a business he once loved, but it still disnae excuse some of his more radical comments as a public speaker. That being said, its unquestionable that The Ultimate Warrior was a huge influence on professional wrestling, and pop culture in general. I know this’ll sound daft, but the reason I know that for certain is the simple fact that my maw remembers him. She remembers 3 wrestlers from back in the days when I used tae sit in the living room, watchin Summerslam 90 every other day, and the three are Hulk Hogan, The Undertaker and THEEEE ULTIMATE WARRRRRIOR. That says a lot tae me. A wee wuman wae nae interest in pro wrestling whatsoever. Sees it as a joke. But Warrior stuck in her mind. I don’t think ye could fail tae notice the boundless energy and enthusiasm he injected intae his work, and whilst he wis never a very good wrestler, he was involved in some of my favourite matches of the early 90s. Obviously that stoater wae Hogan where he won the WWE Title, but my personal favourite is the Steel Cage match wae Rick Rude at Summerslam 90. A beauty of a match, underrated as fuck. Anyway, I went away on a tangent there, but the point is. Warrior is clearly an inconic figure in wrestling history, and to see him pass away days after he finally made his peace with WWE after being inducted into the HoF…its saddening. More importantly he leaves two young daughters and a wife behind, so no matter what you thought of him as a person and a wrestler, that’s the main thing ye need tae remember. His family need tae adjust tae a life without him in it. The roster gathered on the stage tae watch a beautiful video package detailing his life and career, including the part of his HoF speech which seen him bring his two young daughters on stage and tell them that being their da will always be his greatest achievement. 3 days later he was deid. Fuckin…..there’s nae words. Wee Nattie and Cody Rhodes bawlin their hearts oot on stage anaw. R.I.P Ultimate Warrior.
Sometimes I litter these wee intro’s wae shite talk. A wee long winded joke or suhin. Lets ye settle in and sets the tone for whits tae follow, but this show needs none of that. This show spoke for itself, and it spoke loudly and proudly. It spoke wae its baws oot, and it spoke whilst waving them aboot. This is the post Wrestlemania RAW, and as usual, it was a wee bit special.
We start off wae a stunning wee video package for Daniel Bryan. WWE always fuckin nail these things eh? The VT for the Wyatt vs Cena feud was magical anaw, and this yin pretty much filled ye in on the whole Daniel Bryan story for anyone who might not have been in the know. Shows ye aw the heely goodness that we’ve had fae Triple H n Stephanie McMahon, and builds it up beautifully tae the moment he finally took the belts for keeps at Mania. I shed a wee tear. Nae shame. Wrestling has me again. In its fuckin clutches, and I think if ye call yersell a wrestling fan and yer no in the same boat, its probably best that ye stop kiddin yersell on. This isnae for you if ye haven’t found yersell totally invested, and on the verge of emotional wreckage after something that happened at Wrestlemania. Its over for ye. Deid fae the soul up. Pointless going on really int it? Can ye even taste food? Dae ye even crack a smile when birds chirp a merry tune while ye walk? I don’t think this is for you. This ‘life’ ye claim tae be living. Cause whit is life without the wee things that make yer heart race, and get lost in dalliances wae shirtless antics. Whit is life without the moments that send aw yer blood, sweat, tears and spunk spillin oot every orifice. Whits the point? whit is life without wrestling?
Sorry I got a bit carried away there, but I’m sittin here watchin Daniel Bryan lead a packed arena in a thunderous YES! chant, and I’m gettin emotional mate. Its been a turbulent few months for me personally anaw, and I feel like me n DBry have emerged fae it aw together. Climbed oot the wreckage as bearded brothers in arms….triumphant. He lets them chant his name for a gid 2-3 hours, before we eventually hear fae the champ. The champ is here. He lets us know about the stuggles he’s faced having tae raise his arms wae that YES! chant wae a title in each haun. Too heavy. Then…aw man, I cannae greet again. I’m aw cried out. Tear ducts are wilting. A fuckin “you deserve it!” chant? Come on tae fuck. I couldnae handle it. Too much emotion. Too much everything. If ye were losing interest in Daniel Bryan and his pursuit of the belt, the emotion involved in this promo must have brought ye back. Surely it did. It had tae.
Then the Beak came oot wae his delectable wench in the wee black dress. Guys I’m mildly obsessed wae the idea of seein these two pump. No gonnae lie tae ye. I think it would be refreshing tae sit down and watch a celebrity sex tape that ye don’t feel a deep sense of shame about chuggin yersell daft tae it. Aw I really need is tae see if Steph is as flexible as I imagine. Basically I envisage a scenario where she can wrap her legs roon a Range Rover and no split hersell in two. That’s aw I need tae see, anyway..they’re out tae shout at DBry for a while, but Hunter vows no tae get in the ring incase he does something tae DBr he might regret. DBry stauns right in his coupon and hoists they belts towards the sky as they aw bathe in another magnificent YES! chant. Trips announces that his wee moment is just that…a moment, its his show, and he’ll dae whit ye wants, and dye know whit he wants? a title shot. So he went n gied himself wan in the Main Event TONIGHT. Cracker of a main event tae be announcing right enough, but it also made yer erse clench up real tight cause there wis a very real concern that it might end before it even gets started. A wee part of me has a right chubby over the prospect of Trips in aw his beaky heely glory, staunin over stricken DBry n lifting the belts towards the sky as he toasts World Title reign number 14 wae his most proficient burial of all, but see at the same time? naw. Lets no dae that. Yer time’s been and gone Trips ma man, Daniel Bryan is here tae be at the forefront of the new era, and the futre’s bright. The future’s beard.
Nothing’s the same.
No matter how hard ye try tae sugar coat it, explain it away with logic and clear thinking, and even explain it away wae conspiracy theories if that’s yer thing (it shouldn’t be btw) there’s nae words for it ataw, ye just wake up wae this unshakeable feeling that the course of the world have been altered for good. Yer children will watch something inherently different fae the thing you watched when ye brainwash them intae (not optional) wrestling fandom, yer children’s children probably wont even know about the way it was before ataw, cause by that the internet will become an environment ye can physically enter, and when that becomes the case, everycunts gaun straight for the porn, while the ghosts of wrestling past sit in a wee room. Ignored. Longing for hits. Longing for you to care.
It all changed last night. Nothing’s the same. It could never be the same again.
I ran intae a wall heid first earlier just tae see if I still bleed like mortals do. I looked at the gash on ma heid, and the blood pouring oot it, and aw the way down ma hairy chin, whilst an imaginary 50s housewife appeared over my shoulder and said “you’ve been in the wars eh!” I looked in the mirror and sighed. The blood wis real, but nothing else is. Its all different maaaaaan. Its all like…..weird n stuff.
Because as I sit here today, a man of 24 years and 362 days, 16 hours and 12 minutes, I sit here as a man who witnessed it end. A man who who looked upon the rubble like a slack jawed windae licker and couldnae comprehend whit he wis seeing. The horror still hasn’t wore aff. The lack of comprehension will never fade. That wee niggling feeling of “why?…why now…and why him” will never fully shift, cause as I type this words tae ye on this solemn Monday evening, I’ve got a bitta bad news for ye mucker. It finally happened. Strap yersell for some news that will change the way you see it aw….cause it happened….
David Otunga has returned to in-ring action.
I know! couldnae fuckin believe ma eyes either. For aw the predictions we seen tossed about for the 3 open slots in the battle royal, there’s wan we didnae anticipate. The lord of litigation himself, Davie Otunga returning, tae steal our hearts and minds. I cannae be the only cunt who missed big Dave surely? Think about it this way, of the two Daves who have returned tae WWE in recent months, who makes ye want tae fly kick the side of yer tele more? Davie O or Davie B? Exactly mate. Welcome back tae the fold Otunga ma man, and here…welcome tae this Wrestlemania 30 review. Strap yersells in and get comfy cause this shit is gonnae get intense baby. I’d love tae tell ye I dont mean hauf the stuff I’m about tae say, and its really not that serious, but trust me..I mean it aw. Every fuckin painstaking horrendous emotion. Nae half measures ma man, this is where the eyes of the world are on wrestling and this is when ye just cannae fuck it up. No in a big way anyway. So its far fae ideal when ye kick off wae Hulk Hogan saying words. A very real and very serious risk if his hauners arent fuckin stellar, and d’ye know whit? They were probably the finest hauners any man has ever had. I dunno if thats pure dumb luck, or they were only sent oot tae save the poor cunt cause he wis dying on his glaikit auld erse, but it didnae matter, cause they formed like Voltron. Before aw that we had some pre-show gidness fae some solid boayzies.
Its Mania. It’s the biggest show of the year. Its words about the biggest show of the year. Ye intae it? thats aw I’ve got tae ask ye ma man. Are ye intae it? Is Hulk Hogan gonnae be the hostess wae the mostest or is he gonnae slevver through everything he does and make the whole hing awkward as fuck? Whits Stone Cold gonnae be daein? will it be some backstage pish or is he gonnae stunner every cunt in that battle royal and win it for himself? Whits Brad Maddox gonnae be uptae, apart fae fillin jam jars wae the sweat he wrings oot his boxers? and last but not least, will we see CM Punk? Should we gie a fuck if we dae or no?
Aw these questions will be answered over the course of a 6 hour show. That’s right mate aye, 2 hour pre-show, 4 hour main card. 6 hours. 6 hours and we couldnae get a Cesaro vs Ziggler 60 minute iron man match in there somewhere. It’s a fuckin travesty.
Awrite Taker? I’m no wan for ripping the pish outta legends or that, cept for aw the other times I’ve done exactly that, but Taker gies it the “old guy fawin aboot at the front door while he looks for his keys” stumble on the way in the ring, and gies it the typa patter yer mad uncle hits ye wae when he pulls ye aside at a family party. Haverin some shite here wis he no? jesus fuck man. I hink he bumped this promo straight ootae the wee bin Bray Wyatt keeps in his locker room wae the word “SHITERS!” on it. Apparantely the only things ye can be sure of in life is death, taxes and the streak. The fuckin Undertaker said that. The phenom. A guy I’m sposed tae fear and respect, gien me da patter. Da patter that’s even worse than my ain da’s shite patter.
I cannae even kid ye on, I fuckin hated this for the most part. Its the first angle Heymans been involved in during this run as a manager where I’m no intae his words, and of the 3 folk involved, Brock Lesnar is by far the most entertaining. Screechin aw err the place, and lookin like he’s shat his skants. Heyman gies it some patter, before Brock teases gaun intae the ring. There’s a lot of bobbin aboot ringside and tae me this shit wis draggin fuckin errrrrrrse. Its the last RAW before Mania ffs, lets rumble boayzies! Eventually efter tap dancin for a bit, a Heyman distraction gies Brock the opening tae get in amongst it. He sneaks behind Taker, but Taker is wise tae it and gets a jab or two in, but Brock isnae tae be bested this time. Knocks the auld bag ah bones doon wae a double sledge, before hoisting him up for a quite magnificent F5. Once again Brock fuckin Lesnar is the guy I care the most aboot, which is quite a remarkable turnaround considering I didnae have a minute of time for the cunt a year ago. He wont end the streak, but he left me kinda hoping he does here, so fair play tae the big boulderheided cunt.
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.
So why do we love wrestling? when it comes down to it, its appeal lies on two levels. The first one is the competitive element. Everyone has their favourites, and they want them tae win at all costs. They break their wee hearts when they don’t. It’s an injustice! CM Punk should be the World Heavyweight European Hardcore Champion, forever and ever. Daniel Bryan should share the rest of the belts wae Cesaro, and Big E can keep the IC strap. PUSH DREW MCINTYRE! Aw that shite. We have our favourites and we support them like they’re members of our own family. Like they still suckle on the teet. In reality? its all make believe. Its no more spontaneous than a last minute script change on a sitcom. There’s plenty of improv of course. During matches, promos and anything CM Punk ever does. But its aw rigged. We’re all being played and we know it.
So where’s the appeal if we all know its a work? for me the second level is the storytelling. For me there is nothing more captivating than watching people who are the very best at what they do, telling us a wee story with nothing more than a set of wrestling moves and a particular way of putting them together at their disposal. Like all good stories, the ending has to be fulfilling though. If it doesn’t bring closure, that’s when unrest starts. When Cena takes someones finisher aff the top of the Empire State Building, and still kicks out at 2, that’s when cunts start throwing shit, and making incredibly embarrassing youtube vidoes of themselves burning an effigy of Randy Orton, drying their tears wae an auld Nexus t-shirt. Wondering where it all went wrang. It’s all Triple Hs fault. This company will always be corrupt as long as it’s the house McMahon built. Jack Tunney did it!
All these wee cliches wee aw churn out to make ourselves feel better for becoming too invested in a story.