It took a month of sleeping past noon (I don't get along with alarm clocks), but I finally woke up in time to catch Saturday Morning Slam. Yeah, I could watch it online. As I said in one of my video updates, I felt that it was important to watch this show as it was meant to be seen. Besides, this gave me an excuse (albeit flimsy) to relive my childhood. I miss taking in cartoons and wrestling on Saturday mornings. Who doesn't? Being a kid is fucking killer. The question is, did I bother with cartoons or did I forge ahead to the feature presentation?
Dumb question! I was committed to this semblant experiment, so I watched Iron Man: Armored Adventures and Justice League: Unlimited. The latter was a tad clumsy, but the former? I must admit, Iron Man is tense and well-written (relatively speaking). I imagine that it's popular with superhero votaries. It should be anyway. Okay, on with the program...prepare for flank speed because I'm about to revivify the pro/con format. That's right; this is serious goddamn business.
~ Slam started out on the right foot. They listed the Top 5 Intercontinental Champions. I'm fine with Randy Savage being numero uno, but no mention of Bret Hart or Mr. Perfect? Bullshit. And you can expurgate The Honky Tonk Man. Fuck his long reign. That guy is one of the worst champions in WWE history, IC or otherwise.
~ Honestly, I'm on the fence as it relates to the half-hour time slot, but I'm listing it as a pro. This show is part of a zippy, bustling block of programming aimed at children with sugar coursing through their veins. At 30 minutes, you might be able to entertain a few brats who aren't necessarily wrestling fans. Ideally, Vinnie Mac would dump Superstars (seriously, why does it still exist?) and extend Slam to an action-packed hour.
~ I'm cool with a kid-friendly show. With the exception of the Attitude Era, WWE/F has always been kid-friendly. However, Slam is too kid-friendly. You've probably heard that the matches comply with a rule interdicting any and all moves/holds that pinpoint the neck area. Yeah, that's fucking ridiculous. Hulk Hogan's finisher targeted the neck area. Y'know, the dude who said prayers and inhaled (injected) vitamins ("vitamins")? Christ, if The Undertaker was still working a full schedule, he wouldn't be able to wrestle on Saturday mornings! My first memory of The Undertaker took place - you guessed it - on a Saturday morning. Oy.
~ This week's exclusive match pitted Zack Ryder against William Regal. I won't fault them. They tried. Unfortunately, the match was dull because of the aforementioned rule. Boy, nothing excites wee Cena marks quite like grappling and stalling tactics! Get this...they cut to the commentary booth when Ryder hit his finisher (a leg-drop bulldog). I swear to Allah. By the way, Santino Marella was the guest color commentator. Insult. To injury.
~ The Miz got his own segment.
Saturday Morning Slam is rough around the edges, but I suppose it serves its purpose. I doubt that I'll tune in next week, unless The Uso's are allotted screen time. So basically, I won't be tuning in next week.
Posted by Dom Coccaro at 11:48 PM