 |
| Me after another episode of the best wrestling show in the world gif via Know Your Meme |
Forget being reasonable, so long to objectivity, and matriarch-fornicating neutrality: if you don't like NXT--especially this week's episode, I will fight you in the street. With everybody you care about watching, too. Do you understand me? Fisticuffs in the road with witnesses and I'll do it gleefully and lie, cheat and steal Eddie style to win, too. That is the exact amount of bothers I give.
There's been a popular meme going around that people should spend more time bigging up the things they like rather than the things they hate. That seems pretty myopic, especially given the fact that the average person has 8 tabs open on their browser at any given point (note: number not officially verified by science or facts but seems about right, so could you just be cool for once?). Hatred and love don't exist in vacuums, usually are justified, and both are wholly valid emotional reactions to have to things and events. That said, blind hatred is squirm-inducing; justified criticism is different. The "botching" of the main event angle up on RAW and Smackdown has left everybody in the net world frostier than usual, and rightfully so, assuming what they want is WWE Champion Daniel Bryan and not "WWE Champion Daniel Bryan for the next 1,482 days".
When I hear friends say they've given up on the product, it always makes me laugh and cock my head like a confused doggie's. Hell, my old favorite wrestler in the world offed his wife, his kid, and himself. That only kept me away for a few years. And for all the sturm und drang people offer up, what they're sick of is the big show (not the Big Show, though sometimes that applies as well). And you know what they always love despite the fact they've Cena nuff and they'd make RKZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ signs if they'd care enough?
NXT.
And why the hell shouldn't they? NXT seems to be the platonic ideal of a wrestling show: logical storylines, excellent announcers adding to the in-ring work, and quality-to-excuse-me-while-I-send-a-link-of-this-to-everyone-I-know-who'd-watch matches. Even the not-so-good stuff advances the plots, and at an hour long, nothing lingers in a painful manner enough to scar the smark soul long enough to want to form boycotts and make asides in a grumble under their breath.
We'll get to the meat of the show in due course, natch, but since it started off with something awesome that'll pay off and ended the same way, there's where we'll set up shop out of.
So, the #1 contendership match between Adrian Neville and Sami Zayn? Yeah, you should just watch it. This review'll keep, it's evergreen; go watch the match. It started off wrestling match, ended up with high spots, and in between was a dizzying exchange between both sides that started off raising eyebrows and might as well have ended up a series of hysterical noises indicating glee. The BCB has stated before that when NXT (esp. that Zayn fellow's matches) is at it's best it answers the persistent question of "If I'm an alleged adult, why am I still watching this?" and it's because to namedrop a promotion, wrestling is art. And the best art in the world can still take your breath out of your lungs.
Them having a good match wasn't a surprise; them having this good a match slightly was. It just told in every single aspect of the story told over two segments, the "Can you top this?" chain wrestling exchange - the fun interplay between Renee and the NXT Champion Bo Dallas capping off his night by taking William Regal's place and doing so very ably (delving into both of those statements a bit down the road) - the grown-ass man-sized Flair chop exchange - Neville outdoing Sami's crazy-ass dive by one of his own that got so much air he almost flew off-screen -- and that's not getting into the crux of why this needs to go high on the NXT Match of the Year Gordon list and why Zayn's fit for a callup two weeks ago. At one point my notes simply read: "There is no Earth. There is no America. There is only NXT." Crazy thought? Not so much once you've been on the rollercoaster ride of this match, the sort that wins over the un-Bo-lievers and reminds the ones already in the tent what they got their damn seat for in the first place.
Wanting a Dallas/Zayn II: Electric Boogaloo is logical, and would almost definitely be another one for the highlight reel called "Sami Zayn 2013 NXT matches". But when this was over there was another thing to add to the wishlist: Neville/Zayn II½: the Smell of Awesome. Oh, by the way, one of them won cleanly and the Code of Honor was adhered to. It matters who'll face Bo for the NXT Championship next week, but in a smaller but almost equal way when you're this good at the pro graps it almost doesn't matter who won. You want to find out who won, see the match and see how long your abhorrence of drinking any Stamford Kool-Aid lasts. Then chase down that deliciousness with a snack.
Circling back to the point earlier raised: it was great having the Champ at the announce desk putting over those high-flying Bo-lieving kids and being coquettish with Renee. But why was he there, especially given the fact earlier in the show he managed to burn C.J. Parker with a leading contender to Insult of the Stamford Year, Non Mark-Henry division ([highly sarcastic] "Whoaaaaaaa, maaaaaaaaaaaan, [/] I didn't realize you were still employed.") before disposing of the burnout easily in a title-free match in which he couldn't've possibly delivered the tornado bulldog hard enough for my liking? Not just me, either: the crowd could barely bring themselves to boo Bo's offense. This Guy is literally a better babyface than C.J. Parker is.
And the answer to that is simple: it's because William Regal has an overdeveloped sense of vengeance. And it's going to get him into trouble one day very soon (on air, at least) against Antonio Cesaro. Not only is he doomed, but he knows he's doomed. But this doom can send him out nobly, and it's better than the insomnia that a reformed former master villain has to live with. It all seemed so innocent to start, Regal was flirting with Renee and Yoshi Tatsu (speaking of people surprisingly still employed) was standing in the ring waiting to get goofed again by the Swiss Superman. All Byron Saxton did was attempt to pick up the black Gadsen that Cesaro had thrown in, and the former US Champion was in his face threatening to welcome him to Antonio Cesaro's America. All Regal did was come down to the ring and escort Saxton to the back, giving a disappointed/confounded look that had the highest levels of fatherly disappointment baked throughly into it to Cesaro. He didn't need to actually say the words "You're better than this; what the C.J. Parker are you doing?"
Unfortunately for Tatsu, somebody had to suffer for Regal's "sins", and that somebody was him. Regal kept his eyes down on his monitor no matter how many times a brusque "Hey, Regal!" flew out of Cesaro's lips, and given the absolute domination on display, that was plenty. Tatsu got powerbombed into a fine powder, and the rest was the usual Cesaro nastiness with an enzu European uppercut thrown in for good measure. The "You step in front of my path again, Obi-Wan, and I will eff you up" wasn't said, either. You don't need to when you can swing a guy around 22 times and should be the only person on the roster allowed to chinlock somebody, let alone when you can delay your finishing move to do it one-handed so you can wave bye-bye to the latest object of your ire. Even Renee supports Regal while knowing how BAMF Cesaro is, and the rest of it? It's only a matter of time. It's only a matter of time. Can I throw Cesaro/Regal into this NXT MOTY pile already or do I actually have to see it?
Speaking of flawless things, Tyler Breeze. And his win over Kaschris Herohno, to faux furry boot(s). Before the match could even start Alexander Rusev had straight up trucked KCHO to a villainous hello, then the lanky youngster had to muster together all his fighting spirit so he could get in the ring and let the match start proper. The King of Vain had to put down the TyPhone (who's case matched the ring jacket because of course it did), and faster than you could say "hold that!" Tyler had ducked an attempted strike and Beauty Shotted his way to a flawless victory not seen this side of Mortal Kombat II. Little girls were even cheering, that's how awesome T Beezy is. Let the Infinite Selfie roll on unabated!
Almost lost in the tidal wave of awesome unleashed by the main event and the imminent tidal wave building offshore from Regal/Cesaro? NXT has other divisions. And those're rolling along just fine, don't you worry your uggo face about it. Hunico and Camacho continued their triumphant return by besting the Ascension in a non-title match where the falling star of the team earned a name I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want down in what Master Regal calls the barry-oh: Señor Paquete Pequeno. Have you missed the Women's Champion Paige? Well, she doesn't play well with others. And by others, you can just substitute "other humans". This should come off heelish, perhaps, but some people're misanthropic and even worse, some of them are misanthropic, damn good, and throw knee strikes the way Gambit throws cards, so you kinda don't want to get in the way of their path of rage if you can help it. And yet Emma doesn't care.
A little more serious than usual, but not so much so that she won't throw out a dance move as a threat to get her own rematch on and win the gold once she's back to full strength. Paige, predictably set to murk anything in her path, was presumably disappointed she couldn't beat down the bubbly Aussie and settled for insulting Natalya and her Total Divas involvement with a barrage of Hollywood and big roster superstar insults that'll end up with the two of them fighting with the NXT Women's Championship on the line in the near future--maybe even on next week's show when the NXT Championship itself is on the line. Needless to say, certain authors were swaying back and forth with their hands over their heads saying "Testify!" as Paige found pretty much every justifiable G-rated way to state her own variant of "Hit 'Em Up" in order to satiate her kneelift bloodlust towards any and all flesh. Nattie can be disappointed in Paige's accusations and attitude all she wants, but it's pretty obvious the Champ hears her, and the Champ don't care. Maybe if she wasn't so busy she'd help Bayley against the BFFs, but even Summer Rae knows until Emma and Paige settle up their differences that Bay's an island unto herself less this mystery woman coming to bail her out in a tag match.
So that's it, that's everything. Now that we're done here, I've got a main event to rewatch. And possibly rerewatch.
And if you don't like that, the road's that way and I'll see you in it dukes up.
There's been a popular meme going around that people should spend more time bigging up the things they like rather than the things they hate. That seems pretty myopic, especially given the fact that the average person has 8 tabs open on their browser at any given point (note: number not officially verified by science or facts but seems about right, so could you just be cool for once?). Hatred and love don't exist in vacuums, usually are justified, and both are wholly valid emotional reactions to have to things and events. That said, blind hatred is squirm-inducing; justified criticism is different. The "botching" of the main event angle up on RAW and Smackdown has left everybody in the net world frostier than usual, and rightfully so, assuming what they want is WWE Champion Daniel Bryan and not "WWE Champion Daniel Bryan for the next 1,482 days".
When I hear friends say they've given up on the product, it always makes me laugh and cock my head like a confused doggie's. Hell, my old favorite wrestler in the world offed his wife, his kid, and himself. That only kept me away for a few years. And for all the sturm und drang people offer up, what they're sick of is the big show (not the Big Show, though sometimes that applies as well). And you know what they always love despite the fact they've Cena nuff and they'd make RKZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ signs if they'd care enough?
NXT.
And why the hell shouldn't they? NXT seems to be the platonic ideal of a wrestling show: logical storylines, excellent announcers adding to the in-ring work, and quality-to-excuse-me-while-I-send-a-link-of-this-to-everyone-I-know-who'd-watch matches. Even the not-so-good stuff advances the plots, and at an hour long, nothing lingers in a painful manner enough to scar the smark soul long enough to want to form boycotts and make asides in a grumble under their breath.
We'll get to the meat of the show in due course, natch, but since it started off with something awesome that'll pay off and ended the same way, there's where we'll set up shop out of.
So, the #1 contendership match between Adrian Neville and Sami Zayn? Yeah, you should just watch it. This review'll keep, it's evergreen; go watch the match. It started off wrestling match, ended up with high spots, and in between was a dizzying exchange between both sides that started off raising eyebrows and might as well have ended up a series of hysterical noises indicating glee. The BCB has stated before that when NXT (esp. that Zayn fellow's matches) is at it's best it answers the persistent question of "If I'm an alleged adult, why am I still watching this?" and it's because to namedrop a promotion, wrestling is art. And the best art in the world can still take your breath out of your lungs.
Them having a good match wasn't a surprise; them having this good a match slightly was. It just told in every single aspect of the story told over two segments, the "Can you top this?" chain wrestling exchange - the fun interplay between Renee and the NXT Champion Bo Dallas capping off his night by taking William Regal's place and doing so very ably (delving into both of those statements a bit down the road) - the grown-ass man-sized Flair chop exchange - Neville outdoing Sami's crazy-ass dive by one of his own that got so much air he almost flew off-screen -- and that's not getting into the crux of why this needs to go high on the NXT Match of the Year Gordon list and why Zayn's fit for a callup two weeks ago. At one point my notes simply read: "There is no Earth. There is no America. There is only NXT." Crazy thought? Not so much once you've been on the rollercoaster ride of this match, the sort that wins over the un-Bo-lievers and reminds the ones already in the tent what they got their damn seat for in the first place.
Wanting a Dallas/Zayn II: Electric Boogaloo is logical, and would almost definitely be another one for the highlight reel called "Sami Zayn 2013 NXT matches". But when this was over there was another thing to add to the wishlist: Neville/Zayn II½: the Smell of Awesome. Oh, by the way, one of them won cleanly and the Code of Honor was adhered to. It matters who'll face Bo for the NXT Championship next week, but in a smaller but almost equal way when you're this good at the pro graps it almost doesn't matter who won. You want to find out who won, see the match and see how long your abhorrence of drinking any Stamford Kool-Aid lasts. Then chase down that deliciousness with a snack.
Circling back to the point earlier raised: it was great having the Champ at the announce desk putting over those high-flying Bo-lieving kids and being coquettish with Renee. But why was he there, especially given the fact earlier in the show he managed to burn C.J. Parker with a leading contender to Insult of the Stamford Year, Non Mark-Henry division ([highly sarcastic] "Whoaaaaaaa, maaaaaaaaaaaan, [/] I didn't realize you were still employed.") before disposing of the burnout easily in a title-free match in which he couldn't've possibly delivered the tornado bulldog hard enough for my liking? Not just me, either: the crowd could barely bring themselves to boo Bo's offense. This Guy is literally a better babyface than C.J. Parker is.
And the answer to that is simple: it's because William Regal has an overdeveloped sense of vengeance. And it's going to get him into trouble one day very soon (on air, at least) against Antonio Cesaro. Not only is he doomed, but he knows he's doomed. But this doom can send him out nobly, and it's better than the insomnia that a reformed former master villain has to live with. It all seemed so innocent to start, Regal was flirting with Renee and Yoshi Tatsu (speaking of people surprisingly still employed) was standing in the ring waiting to get goofed again by the Swiss Superman. All Byron Saxton did was attempt to pick up the black Gadsen that Cesaro had thrown in, and the former US Champion was in his face threatening to welcome him to Antonio Cesaro's America. All Regal did was come down to the ring and escort Saxton to the back, giving a disappointed/confounded look that had the highest levels of fatherly disappointment baked throughly into it to Cesaro. He didn't need to actually say the words "You're better than this; what the C.J. Parker are you doing?"
Unfortunately for Tatsu, somebody had to suffer for Regal's "sins", and that somebody was him. Regal kept his eyes down on his monitor no matter how many times a brusque "Hey, Regal!" flew out of Cesaro's lips, and given the absolute domination on display, that was plenty. Tatsu got powerbombed into a fine powder, and the rest was the usual Cesaro nastiness with an enzu European uppercut thrown in for good measure. The "You step in front of my path again, Obi-Wan, and I will eff you up" wasn't said, either. You don't need to when you can swing a guy around 22 times and should be the only person on the roster allowed to chinlock somebody, let alone when you can delay your finishing move to do it one-handed so you can wave bye-bye to the latest object of your ire. Even Renee supports Regal while knowing how BAMF Cesaro is, and the rest of it? It's only a matter of time. It's only a matter of time. Can I throw Cesaro/Regal into this NXT MOTY pile already or do I actually have to see it?
Speaking of flawless things, Tyler Breeze. And his win over Kaschris Herohno, to faux furry boot(s). Before the match could even start Alexander Rusev had straight up trucked KCHO to a villainous hello, then the lanky youngster had to muster together all his fighting spirit so he could get in the ring and let the match start proper. The King of Vain had to put down the TyPhone (who's case matched the ring jacket because of course it did), and faster than you could say "hold that!" Tyler had ducked an attempted strike and Beauty Shotted his way to a flawless victory not seen this side of Mortal Kombat II. Little girls were even cheering, that's how awesome T Beezy is. Let the Infinite Selfie roll on unabated!
Almost lost in the tidal wave of awesome unleashed by the main event and the imminent tidal wave building offshore from Regal/Cesaro? NXT has other divisions. And those're rolling along just fine, don't you worry your uggo face about it. Hunico and Camacho continued their triumphant return by besting the Ascension in a non-title match where the falling star of the team earned a name I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want down in what Master Regal calls the barry-oh: Señor Paquete Pequeno. Have you missed the Women's Champion Paige? Well, she doesn't play well with others. And by others, you can just substitute "other humans". This should come off heelish, perhaps, but some people're misanthropic and even worse, some of them are misanthropic, damn good, and throw knee strikes the way Gambit throws cards, so you kinda don't want to get in the way of their path of rage if you can help it. And yet Emma doesn't care.
A little more serious than usual, but not so much so that she won't throw out a dance move as a threat to get her own rematch on and win the gold once she's back to full strength. Paige, predictably set to murk anything in her path, was presumably disappointed she couldn't beat down the bubbly Aussie and settled for insulting Natalya and her Total Divas involvement with a barrage of Hollywood and big roster superstar insults that'll end up with the two of them fighting with the NXT Women's Championship on the line in the near future--maybe even on next week's show when the NXT Championship itself is on the line. Needless to say, certain authors were swaying back and forth with their hands over their heads saying "Testify!" as Paige found pretty much every justifiable G-rated way to state her own variant of "Hit 'Em Up" in order to satiate her kneelift bloodlust towards any and all flesh. Nattie can be disappointed in Paige's accusations and attitude all she wants, but it's pretty obvious the Champ hears her, and the Champ don't care. Maybe if she wasn't so busy she'd help Bayley against the BFFs, but even Summer Rae knows until Emma and Paige settle up their differences that Bay's an island unto herself less this mystery woman coming to bail her out in a tag match.
So that's it, that's everything. Now that we're done here, I've got a main event to rewatch. And possibly rerewatch.
And if you don't like that, the road's that way and I'll see you in it dukes up.
