I swear to Buddha's balls. If it's not one thing, it's another. I've been sick for several days, though I seem to be trending upwards. At least Smackdown will be on in eighteen minutes. I'll keep you posted...with posts.
Papa Shango's finisher was a shoulder breaker? I don't remember him even having a finisher. I'm already off-topic. I wanted to wait until now to comment on this week's wrestling because that seemed like the thing to do. Did I enjoy the Royal Rumble? On the whole, yes. Did I enjoy Raw? On the whole, no, but the final segment redeemed it. Samoa Joe debuted and injured Seth Rollins. Ugh. Did I enjoy Smackdown? Yes. Did I enjoy NXT? On the whole, it depends. I read the spoilers, but I forgot to fucking watch it. And I still haven't watched it, but I've shilly-shallied long enough.
Randy Orton would not be my first choice to carry the day, as it were. It could have been worse, Larry. Roman Reigns didn't win; Goldberg didn't win; The New Day didn't win (I dig the act, but that wouldn't have worked). I really, really wanted my Undertaker to win. Really. It just wasn't meant to be, I'm afraid. Here is how I see the next couple of months playing out. Roman slowly, methodically turns heel and feuds with The Undertaker. Consider this. 'Taker is still pissed about being joggled over the top rope. I recall Roman proclaiming, "This is my yard now!" Feud. There it is.
Raw was mostly forgettable. The tag team division is worthless (with the exception of the champs), and the cruiserweights need to be developed properly. That's a rant for another diurnal course. But Samoa Joe! The Destroyer! I'm felicitous and tickled goddamn pink that he has belly-flopped onto the main roster with two caveats. 1) I was hoping for Smackdown. 2) Seth is apparently crippled. Personally, I'm holding out hope that his boo-boo is a work. "But they said it was real." Of course they said it was real. What better way to build up a Wrestlemania main event? Now, I don't know for a fact that it's a work. I'm merely postulating. I have the same amount of information as you do. Or Larry.
As per usual, Smackdown was wall-to-wall awesome. Folks, we are on the precipice of a full-bloom Luke Harper face turn. John Cena may be champion, but let's be honest with ourselves. Doesn't he deserve it? It's not as if he won it out of a vacuum. Styles and Cena have tight chemistry, the latter pulling out moves I've never seen him execute. If any modern day WWE superstar merits eclipsing Ric Flair's record number of title reigns, it's John Cena. The fucker made me a fan. Speaking of Smackdown, did you know...should I start a new paragraph?
Did you know that Mickie James is back? Yeah, that Mickie James. She has befriended Women's Champion Alexa Bliss, which I deem as a smart call. Smackdown is not NXT. The crowd isn't packed with fanboys/fangirls who can list off the roster from, say, 2008 and prepare a chant for any wres--sports entertainer who walks that aisle. For the time being, Mickie is better suited for a villainous role.
If you'll excuse me, I gotta go watch NXT.
Posted by Dom Coccaro at 5:14 AM