Apologies for going AWOL, but one does not simply walk into Mordor. Sorry, not Mordor...London.
Without dredging up the past, I feel I should mention a couple of things before normal broadcast resumes.
Wrestlemania was not the best or the worst. I had a very wordy draft about this and could go on, but I feel there were enough critiques of the event without me sticking my splintered oar in. Highlight: Cody Rhodes' new entrance (comic book villain extraordinaire) and The Miz's pre-match trail package. Awesome. Lowlight: Lawler/Cole. Well...just Cole. The less said about the subsequent JR humiliations and knighthoods the better. It was bordering on Boogeyman/Lillian mole territory. Not suitable for vegetarians or royalists.
The Hall of fame was really very good. Drew Carey getting inducted by Kane was swell, the partially posthumously awarded Road Warriors were gracious and Hunter and Shawn had a right old love-in. As did everyone else at the party. And and and...The Miz was sitting next to Maryse and possibly grazing her thigh *snicker*.
Edge retired and it was like cry-a-long-a-wrestling for a while. But it nicely segued into a Christian/Del Rio feud. Christian deserved that title for longer than it took Orton to run away with it. Again.
CM Punk has a plethora of coloured pants. The PPV ones match his Nexus t-shirt. I don't know why this is important.
R-Truth turned heel on the UK dates, perhaps in one of the most awkward exchanges between humans ever witnessed. Jo-Mo is taking a break, possibly to abscond the Prince of Parkour throne. Some British bird by the commentary table was screaming, ''THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!'' when Truth was waving his naughty naughty cigarette everywhere. well done that woman.
Something Bella won the Diva's Championship and guerilla style backstage footage seems to suggest a little hostility between some of the ladies in the locker room. To me, it appeared that Gail Kim, Tamina, Beth and Natty were consciously separating themselves from the others (by way of punching them in the face and telling them to learn how to wrestle)...but I might have been dreaming. Fingers still crossed for the re-introduction of the women's belt though. I wonder which road the recently estranged LayCool will take. Kharma's a b*tch ain't it! NB: I will run out of Kharma puns eventually.
Mr Vince came out of his coma to wish The Rock a very happy birthday. Everyone else was almost put into a coma because some genius decided to book some godawful popstrels to perform. And Paul Walker. Ron Simmons saved everything.
The draft didn't help those brand confusion matters.
Kane and Big Show are tagger champs, but Mason Ryan is quite scary too and may adopt the Orton-inspired 'Way of the Psycho'. I fully expect him to have a rabid animal inspired moniker in the next month or so.
Dolph Ziggler is serious now and therefore has dark hair to prove it. I liked his old persona, but the man's a great asset, so I hope the new one works for him.
One final thing...if you are a bully, then the WWE hates you. This is no way ironic.
On with the music.
Showing posts with label el capitan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label el capitan. Show all posts
19.3.11
23.2.11
We're Getting The Old Band Back Together!
RETURN (r-tûrn)
v. re·turned, re·turn·ing, re·turns
1. To go/come back, as to an earlier condition or place.
2. To revert in speech, thought, or practice.
3. To revert to a former owner.
4. To answer or respond.
There is little that has happened in the last few weeks of the WWE that doesn't want to make me behave like a small child who is first in line at the new all-you-can-scoff-for-a-dollar sweetie shop that just opened up next door to a bouncy castle. Somewhere in this analogy there is also a free bike and a Playstation (other consoles are available). Okay Okay, so there have been the odd forgettable match-ups and oddlier (?) thought out promos, but I'm willing to forgive because I'm saintly like that. Plus, I'm feeling sprightly after that nostalgic twang that's been giving me a bit of jip seems to have settled down a tad. Of course, this might have something to do with the company going year 2000 a go-go on its talent roster. Anyone complaining?....Nah, didn't think so.
But seriously now, without beginning a rousing chorus of Simon and Garfunkel's 'Hello Darkness My Old Friend', I would like to welcome you all back, neon gods and sensible idols of mine...
Trish Stratus - brunette now, and less booby than last time we saw you. Women's champ at a time when boys and girls were allowed to play together. Bad catchphrase.
Christian - came to help your brother (wait...are they still using that?) and kept touching your pectoral boo-boo. You helped put del Rio over and we thank you greatly for it. You look good.
The Undertaker - oh Phenom birthed from parts unknown, come back to claim your 'Mania throne. Silenced those rumour mills that kept chanting for Sting. Fedora in tact, but no Mcwifey on arm. They probably won't work that in. Probably.
Triple H - a spanner in the bloody works aren't you sausage! Five minutes of ovation and lots and lots of staring (at the Wrestlemania sign/The Undertaker/the sign/the crowd/Taker/the sign). Good god man! Didn't you see what happened to your buddy last year? Great to have you back...better to hear Lemmy's gravelly, death rattle, demon inducing vocals.
Couple these ring-leaders with other exciting figures from my misguided youth i.e. Booker T, Kevin Nash, The Rock and that Stone Cold chap, and this year looks like it's shaping up to whoop rather a substantial amount of arse. Yay.
v. re·turned, re·turn·ing, re·turns
1. To go/come back, as to an earlier condition or place.
2. To revert in speech, thought, or practice.
3. To revert to a former owner.
4. To answer or respond.
There is little that has happened in the last few weeks of the WWE that doesn't want to make me behave like a small child who is first in line at the new all-you-can-scoff-for-a-dollar sweetie shop that just opened up next door to a bouncy castle. Somewhere in this analogy there is also a free bike and a Playstation (other consoles are available). Okay Okay, so there have been the odd forgettable match-ups and oddlier (?) thought out promos, but I'm willing to forgive because I'm saintly like that. Plus, I'm feeling sprightly after that nostalgic twang that's been giving me a bit of jip seems to have settled down a tad. Of course, this might have something to do with the company going year 2000 a go-go on its talent roster. Anyone complaining?....Nah, didn't think so.
But seriously now, without beginning a rousing chorus of Simon and Garfunkel's 'Hello Darkness My Old Friend', I would like to welcome you all back, neon gods and sensible idols of mine...
Trish Stratus - brunette now, and less booby than last time we saw you. Women's champ at a time when boys and girls were allowed to play together. Bad catchphrase.
Christian - came to help your brother (wait...are they still using that?) and kept touching your pectoral boo-boo. You helped put del Rio over and we thank you greatly for it. You look good.
The Undertaker - oh Phenom birthed from parts unknown, come back to claim your 'Mania throne. Silenced those rumour mills that kept chanting for Sting. Fedora in tact, but no Mcwifey on arm. They probably won't work that in. Probably.
Triple H - a spanner in the bloody works aren't you sausage! Five minutes of ovation and lots and lots of staring (at the Wrestlemania sign/The Undertaker/the sign/the crowd/Taker/the sign). Good god man! Didn't you see what happened to your buddy last year? Great to have you back...better to hear Lemmy's gravelly, death rattle, demon inducing vocals.
Couple these ring-leaders with other exciting figures from my misguided youth i.e. Booker T, Kevin Nash, The Rock and that Stone Cold chap, and this year looks like it's shaping up to whoop rather a substantial amount of arse. Yay.
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