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| #KofiMania Photo Credit: WWE.com |
Seth Rollins vs. Brock Lesnar — To be honest, of the big three babyface challengers going into Mania, I had sinking dread that Rollins was the one not only most likely to lose, but a lock to lose and allow WWE to keep the Lesnar stranglehold on its co-top title at least until the next Saudi Fuck Money dalliance in May. WWE introduced the possibility that Mania would just be a stop on the road to the Greatest Royal Rumble or whatever the fuck the next show would be called last year, so it was too real a possibility that Rollins would be fodder until Arabia, which if history again showed out, he'd be fodder again. The fact that he did end up beating The Beast was, in a word, refreshing. The match, from Paul Heyman's spiel beforehand, to the final pinfall, was note-perfect, almost aggravatingly so. You have Lesnar, a meat golem who presents the paradox that his presence in WWE is wholly unwanted but that he goes out and almost never has disappointing or even below-average matches (outside of the one vs. Dean Ambrose of which I will never speak again). If this is how he exits WWE, then it's almost as perfect as when he came back seven years ago harassing and mauling John Cena.
AJ Styles vs. Randy Orton — I guess the best compliment I could pay this match is that if it happened five or six years ago, it could have been the best match on the card. Styles, although declined even from his first year or two in WWE, is still game to put on a spectacle, but the last time Randy Orton may have given a single solitary fuck is when he countered Rollins' curbstomp into a RKO at Mania XXXI. Then again, it's not like Orton has ever really given a fuck consistently in his WWE career, which is what makes him such a tragic tale. Here you have a guy whose fluidity in ring movement is almost second-to-none. He has a good body type and the most bonkers over finisher in WWE history, and if he even gave a tenth of the average effort John Cena gives even now that he's semiretired, he'd have been one of the greatest workers ever.
I also thought it was funny that this match featuring an avowed racist and a homophobe was followed by Lacey Evans' once-per-show walk-in. Racism: The Match gets Racism: The Chaser.
The Usos vs. Aleister Black and Ricochet vs. The Bar vs. Shinsuke Nakamura and Rusev — Before the WWE Championship match, I thought this was going to be, by far, the best match of the night. The thing about WWE is that its crazy multi-team tag matches have such a high average ROI, so it's not surprising that these guys rocked the goddamn house. What was surprising was that the biggest star in the match wasn't Black or Ricochet or Rusev, but SHEAMUS. The dude's been at work for 10 years in WWE maligned unjustly because Vince McMahon didn't know how to push him. But over that time, he's become one of the steadiest workers to the point where the only people in the company that I'd trust to be better than him are his tag team partner, Daniel Bryan, and Asuka. I mean, the stadium was poorly-miked all night, but you HEARD people reacting as he handed out Ten Beats of the Bodhran to everyone he could put his hands on. For longtime Sheamus fans like myself, that was one of the best moments of the night. I understand why Ricochet restrained himself (as if pulling out a 630° senton is restraint), or why Nakamura was quiet, but they still all brought it big. These matches are so fun and above all else show why WWE's roster right now makes these shows worth watching even when the booking sucks.
Shane McMahon vs. The Miz — The Miz's quest for revenge ending in an awful self-own would have been one of the most poignant stories in company history. Here The Miz, a man whose life is steeped in sinful levels of pride, shows his humanity when someone he looked up to not only wronged him but his father as well. Even in the course of this battle, he had to stand by and watch his rival lay hands on that father for the transgression of wanting to protect his son's honor. And so Miz unleashed inner fury like no one else had seen from him. His aura spewed violence where it once flowed braggadocio and self-aggrandizement. The Miz was not awesome this night; he was enraged, engorged with a thirst for revenge that was so burdensome that in the end, it claimed him. He wanted to destroy his rival so badly that he didn't think that the camera-tower superplex would leave him too broken to be able to roll over and cover the man for a pin. If any story personified the saying "If you seek revenge, dig two graves," it was this one.
Except that his rival was bloated, nearly-50 son of privilege, Shane McMahon. How much excellent storytelling has been wasted at the feet of past-their-narrative-prime McMahons that could have been utilized to get a full-time wrestler over? I can't reconcile how good the story was with the fact that it was in service of letting a dude who was well enough making DEALZ in China live out high risk fantasies that literally no one else can afford to. Once again, my class-consciousness has ruined a pro wrestling happening. Such is life as a leftist wrestling fan, I suppose.
The Iiconics vs. Pin-Up Strong vs. Tamina Snuka and Nia Jax vs. Sasha Banks and Bayley — WWE has come a long way that women's matches aren't supposed to be buffers, but I mean, when the wrestlers work like it's a buffer match, you can't do a whole lot about it. I mean, it's not like they didn't try. Even Snuka and Jax put their working shoes on, and Jax's tumble off the apron hitting her hip on the "hardest part of the ring" showed a lot of dedication. The Iiconics snaking victory from Phoenix was a brilliant booking touch as well. I just expected more from this match, y'know?
Kofi Kingston vs. Daniel Bryan — Daniel Bryan now has been involved in two passionate title victories at WrestleMania, ones that helped define the events they were on. The first one, five years ago, was his own, and it was the sea change in WWE philosophy, that the scrawny indie guy who wrestled better than he looked could not only succeed in WWE, but succeed with interminable fan support. This year however was far more important. Until last night, the only Black person to hold the WWE Championship was The Rock, and man, if you bring him up, you will get a bunch of people arguing about his Blackness in a debate I don't even want to be in the same hemisphere as. Booker T and Mark Henry held the World Heavyweight Championship, which at times was the top title or at least promoted on the same level as the WWE Championship. They count too, obviously. Still, three Black Champions in an over-50 year history of the biggest wrestling company in recorded history is shameful.
A lot of this story was hedged on Vince McMahon's overt racism as a character trope, which is kinda gross, but also par for the course for both him and his company. Bryan didn't so much revel in that part, even if by extension of his backing by the chairman was steeped in it, but he used a lot of the things the Authority used as cudgels against him during his rise to the top, most notably that Kingston was a "B-plus player." Therein lies the beauty of Bryan Danielson and his ability to get people to react to him, positively or negatively. He can go from underdog to hypocrite with the same efficacy, and trying to reckon him in either role while noting that he can do either one so well will cause you whiplash.
Putting it all on Bryan, however, feels racist since Kingston didn't get here because he's a token. He was ready last night. He was ready ten years ago before Orton pitched a bitch-fit in the ring over a blown spot and sent Kingston all the way into midcard obscurity before New Day quelled his desires to quit. He got this rap of being a subpar worker, and at times, yeah, his shit was sloppy. But last night wasn't the first time he rose to the occasion. He worked the match like he was an indie veteran despite spending those years where he would have absorbed fighting spirit in WWE's employ either as a student or a worker. He leaned into the moments. He adjusted when things looked to go pear-shaped. And when he hit the winning Trouble in Paradise, a move he's struggled to hit cleanly over the years, with picture-perfect movement and impact, it served as the ultimate exclamation point, almost a stark opposite of how the main event ended, for Kingston's deserved rise to the promised land.
Kingston and Bryan put on such a final act in their story that it's hard for me to imagine any match in WWE this year topping it. Like, yeah, it was a little loose early on, but wrestling is not really meant to be consumed analytically, where you judge the participants by checking off a sheet for every movement and reaction, but where you judge them on the broad strokes, the emotional movements, and the big set piece spots. By those latter metrics, how could any match hope to stand up to this one, a passion play acted out by two masters of the craft? Even above everything else, I sit in awe of what they did last night, and I get tears in my eyes just thinking about Xavier Woods and Big E and Kingston's children in the ring celebrating with him after he finally reached the top of the mountain.
Samoa Joe vs. Rey Mysterio — Mysterio is obviously hurt, which feels like it always happens when he's in WWE. It can't be due to the death schedule though, right guys? Either way, I'm glad they let him do his entrance, since he's THE KING of Mania-specific entrance gear, and that Joe got to murk him and add to his legend. Dude doesn't have a lot of time left. He deserves to be a destroyer in WWE just so everyone can see what they missed out on when WWE passed on him the first time because he wouldn't do the Umaga gimmick.
Roman Reigns vs. Drew McIntyre — The good news is that Reigns is probably back to 100 percent. The bad news is I'm not sure McIntyre is the guy that his look dictates that he is. C'est la vie, I guess.
Elias' Concert f/ John Cena — In terms of musical talent, Elias and John Cena are on the opposite ends of where they'd be if they were judged by WWE star power and tenure. Elias could fill in for Phil Collins on a future Genesis tour, and Cena makes Huff and Doback look like the Beastie Boys. Look, I know I wasn't around for Doctor of Thuganomics John Cena, but man, I don't think I could see myself liking that even 15 years ago. But hey, it made a lot of other people happy so, uh, I guess.
Triple H vs. Batista — I'm not going to lie. When Trips grabbed the needlenose pliers and yanked the nosering out of Batista's face, it was the perfect mixture of gruesome, violent, and quirky that makes a great spot great. It was the kind of violence that has been missing from WWE since it decided to go no blood, no gore. It shows how much Batista loves pro wrestling to do that, and it gave a glimpse into how Trips can do good stuff every once in awhile. I just wish the rest of the match held up to that one spot, because fuck, once again, Uncle Paul gave himself the most time on the fucking card. It wasn't cute when he and Undertaker did smark bait at WrestleMania XXVII. It wasn't cute when they JO'd inside hell in a cell the next year. And yet people heaped praise on those matches to give his Great Gazoo-lookin' head the validation to keep doing it year after year. The Bryan match at Mania XXX was fantastic, and the Sting match the next year was acceptable because it was just one long shitpost, even if it was in service of reminding everyone that WWE rulz and WCW drulz. WrestleMania didn't drag this year, but five-and-a-half hours for the main show, plus the two for anyone foolish enough to watch the preshow, is still a long fucking time to ask anyone to sit in one spot and watch only one thing. You can start cutting stuff by at the very least cutting the time of this fucker's matches going forward, if not cutting them altogether. Let the actual roster members shine and let Trips stick to taking selfies with the indie and New Japan/ROH guys he poaches for NXT, fuck.
Baron Corbin vs. Kurt Angle — I understand the angst. Baron Corbin is as close to a failed state of a project as WWE has. I didn't want his Applebee's-bartender-lookin' ass as the guy going over Angle in his last match. It should've been Cena, to be completely honest. It would've brought things full circle. That being said, sometimes, you're at the mercy of the whims of an insane septuagenarian. That being said, Angle probably wanted to go out staring at the lights, the same way Batista, who retired today, wanted to go out gettin' that three second tan. As a wrestler, you don't take your glories with you when you go, because everyone will love you afterwards anyway. You transfer your heat to the next guy, hoping they can run with it. It won't be Angle's fault if or when Corbin can't run with the ball. Also, I'm glad Angle made out of his active career alive. It looked hairy for a minute, and dude probably still has some things to work out. That being said, no matter how badly your heroes in sports or entertainment behave, you don't want to see them get caught up in some tragic shit unless they're completely unrepentant like, I don't know, Hulk Hogan. Angle was a mess and at times was probably not a good person. You extend the hope that he can find his way out and redeem himself though. You don't wanna see him end up like Eddie Guerrero or worse, like Chris Benoit. I just hope he can continue to heal and find peace. Not having to worry about working in the ring will probably help with that a lot.
Finn Bálor vs. Bobby Lashley — I don't know what else to say about this match without delving into full Hog Watch territory except that Lashley hitting that spear out of the ring was the hardest thing I saw anyone do all night. At that moment, I saw what everyone gassing him up from his TNA run saw in him.
Becky Lynch vs. Charlotte Flair vs. Ronda Rousey — Everyone is talking about the finish to the match, which is what happens when something unexpected happens. The main event of WrestleMania shouldn't end on a flash pin, well, at least that's what common logic dictates. However, if the finish happens the way it should happen, then it's brilliant. Fans are conditioned to think that any kind of "roll-up" pin is a fluke, and yet outside of perhaps a schoolboy, it takes a hell of a lot of skill to pull off these combos, like the crucifix. In that specific situation, Lynch countered Rousey's signature impact move, the Piper's Pit, into a pinning combination at high speed and big impact. If Rousey doesn't throw her shoulder up prematurely, that finish looks like a trillion bucks.
I can't get too mad at observers who thought Lynch needed to win off finisher-pin or Dis-Arm-Her tapout, because while wrestling literally can take any form and have any rules it wants, the way a crowd reacts to it has everything to do with how the producers condition them to react. WWE conditions its fans to react a certain way when a certain thing happens. So in a way, Vince McMahon reaped what he sowed here with some of these reactions. Wrestling is all about crowd conditioning, which I guess makes the stuff that happens outside of the norm so special. Mania has been, since XXX, an exercise in tedious finishes and heel dominance. Not for lack of trying with Reigns, obviously, but you know my thoughts about how his entire run was botched. So with the clean babyface sweep in the big three matches, if you really wanted to twist yourself into defending WWE (and honestly, it ain't me), you could say that the last four years built to this one. Again, it's an asinine leap of faith, but in a roundabout way, the last four years made this one feel special.
But back to the actual match, I have four theories for how to parse Rousey's premature shoulder jerk. The first is that it was a legitimate flub. Shit happens in wrestling, obviously. For it to happen in the finish of the main event is some disastrous timing. It should send a message to McMahon, but I doubt he'll take it as the right one. The one he should take is "maybe count on the wrestlers who are there every day every year to carry your big events," but I'm afraid he'll see it as "WOMEN CAN'T MAIN EVENT, FUCK YOU." The second option is that it wasn't Rousey who messed up, but the referee. Lynch was always supposed to win the match, obviously, but was she supposed to win at that particular moment? Some theorists suggest she was supposed to tap Flair. I feel like that would've been a cop-out, especially since Rousey is supposedly taking a family-starting hiatus. She should be protected, but not that much. The third theory is that Rousey went into business for herself and jerked her shoulder up so that she'd have the loose end to come back and tie up when she came back. That theory ties into the idea that her camp and her friends floated that Flair and especially Lynch were REALLY getting under her skin. That being said, of all the things Rousey is, I don't think "disrespectful to pro wrestling" is one of them. A lot of these aggro weirdos have terrible beliefs, but their loyalty to kayfabe is, well, something else.
The final theory, and the one that I'm afraid is true, is that the flub was planned all along, and WWE wanted to continue the feud along for a payoff down the road. If this is the case, then it's fair to throw out all the goodwill the company built with this show. WrestleMania is the kind of show where things end, at least the major things. Even if you wait for the cameras to stop rolling to start going all recursive (like at WrestleMania VII, when Sgt. Slaughter threw fire in Hulk Hogan's face in the locker room to start the build to SummerSlam that year), you still should probably let the big resolutions feel like resolutions and not continuances. That being said, it's not enough right now to dampen how satisfying Mania was this year, but I reserve the right to get indignant later if this is the case.
