Thursday, January 9, 2014

Best Coast Bias: Smell You Later, Kaitlyn

Chickbusters 5eva
Photo Credit:
For me (and possibly you), this was a one-issue show. The Real Americans sprayed soda on the Sambo Voltron with a little assist from Fandango, not surprising. Alberto Del Rio basement superkicked Justin Gabriel so hard he might be looking for a Wiz Khalifa special shirt with the big N on it, unsurprisingly. The tag team Champions overcame the "challenge" of 3MB somehozzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Now, the last match between Kaitlyn and AJ Lee? Well, now -- especially on such a historic day for the WWE in both wildly positive and depressing ways -- now we have something to talk about.

I've said for some time that it was sad and depressing watching the former CBs go at it head-to-head, even when they were putting on awesome matches together and seperately over the making, strengthening, and then dissolution of a friendship. The E wanted to push Total Divas, and so did E! But here was something seperate from the herd of sexy cattle in Kardashianville, a pair of wrestlers who happened to be attractive women rather than the inverse. For a long time the potential cops by day and dancers by night were a walking Bechdel test that could've pulled down a GPA that'd make Damien Sandow shake in his boots. Like most of life, it worked beautifully, until it didn't. And as a result, AJ Lee is now the queen of a virtually empty kingdom.

Her last two predecessors? Poof. Vanished. Gone, daddy, gone. Past tense. Maybe they were tired of the road, the lack of attention, the fact they'd both improved from their fitness days to be viable in-ring competitors, to say nothing of what the backstage situation must've been like. Just because the defecating in bags has gone from instiutional to literal is nothing to be proud of. But Kaitlyn's sendoff was, and at the same time it gave her former biffle a way forward should they care to explore it. Almost in accordance with the universe, the same women who put on low-level warfare for the Lisa Frank Memorial Belt last spring put on Main Event's MOTN.

Something would've been in the water even if the Texan wasn't heading for the door, as Lee started the match off with a handshake. When Kaitlyn used her strength to knock Kee down -- and every time she slammed into Kaitlyn whenever they fought, it always looked like she was going to go Full Rollins sheerly off of the forces of physics -- she seemingly helped Lee up only to yank her into a side headlock. A peeved Champion then got the advantage with a hairpull, actually audibally yelled "You're serious?! I was trying to be nice for once!", and then feinted handshake and went to work the leg. Lee worked a sleeper and a guillotine in the match, and even survived the gutbuster to counter a press and get the three. Then things got weird, as they'd been for some time now. Lee skipped around the ring, and then gave Kaitlyn the full-body hug seen above. All the other longtime NXT heads probably would've shed a tear if the botched facelifts would've let them.

They both reacted shellshockedly afterwards, as if history's weight had Buffy and Angeled them into only having eyes for each other no matter the circumstances if even just for one last moment, and the final goodbye...and then Tamina superkicked Kaitlyn in the face and Lee laughed, blew a kiss, and left. Because, you know, Lee won, and she's still around and people should boo her because...stuff. So Lee won!

No, she didn't. Of course she didn't. The only person who won is Kaitlyn. She's off to get wifed up (tragically not by me or Big E. Langston) and do her own thing. The way her predecessor Eve did, the same way Maryse who's the longest reigning Divas Champion ever for just a heartbeat longer and on her way to being the Most Must-See Wife did, the way Kelly Kelly did, and the list, like the timeless movie playing in Steve Perry's head, goes on and on and on and on. If that tease for me and those like me and the superkick that followed was the price to pay for her having a bed to sleep on consecutive nights in a row and not to worry that all her self-improvement was only so much dancing in the dark, she should've paid it. There's few things worse than the joy of something you love slowly draining and being drained from you and I'd rather hang my hat on a faraway hope that she gets to do what she wants for a while and comes back Goldust-style to take on the Emmas, Summer Raes, Paiges and Bayleys of the world a few years down the line.

But hey, congratulations, AJ Lee. You're willingly dating a self-admitted jerk, languishing in obscurity headlining shows like these when your work both in-ring and character shows you're worth a lot more, and literally everybody who's followed your path in the recent past has thrown up their hands at some point, gone "Screw this", and left the confines of Stamford Junction for less money and better piece of mind, and not a one of them's come back in tears regretting the decision that they've made begging for 90 second sprints on RAW so they can lose to the popular girls. This isn't even the case of being a little fish in a big pond, or vice versa; what that wet stuff is isn't water. It's quicksand, and something about the culture has made every other single you of the last few years fashion a rope of their own making. You should've read Watchmen at some point at your awesomely nerdy life. You're becoming the smartest woman on the cinder. Hopefully you're working on your own psychic brained monster to level half of New York, but past history makes me doubt it. And as for your former biffle? All I can say is this:

See you at tha crossroads and safe travels, Celeste. Yours truly was a butt that wouldn't quit.