The Best And Worst Of WWE Raw 1/9/12: Somebody Call My Mama

By: 01.10.12  •  130 Comments

Best: They Told Me I Could Be Anything I Wanted, So I Became A Funkasaurus

okay, so

I, like many of you, wanted Brodus Clay to return and be dominant. I love tough, hard to topple fat guy wrestlers, and with his preview commercials announcing him as the DOWNFALL OF HUMANITY I was expecting something philosophical and full of butt splashes. I, like many of you, assumed he’d show up and squash jobbers for a few weeks like he did during his run on Superstars and have a great showing at the Royal Rumble, eliminating a handful of guys before having one of those Big Guy Vs. Big Guy standoffs WWE loves in battle royales against Big Show or Mark Henry or Kane or maybe Sheamus. I didn’t allow myself to think far outside of that, because why should I?

And then

okay, so

I’m not sure I’ve got an indepth explanation of how I feel prepared, but I can’t remember a time when I was as hilariously surprised as I was checking my e-mail in the bedroom and hearing Justin Roberts say the word “Funkasaurus”. My brain went “wait, what” and then Ernest “The Cat” Miller’s entrance theme hit and my brain went WAIT, WHAT and I rushed into the living room with visions of Miss Jones and Lamont dancing in my head. At that exact moment, Brodus Clay moonwalked onto the stage dressed like Ari and Uzi in The Royal Tenenbaums and my brain started to smile, which affected my face, which affected my entire body. He had tearaway pants. He did a B-boy stance and FIREWORKS WENT OFF.

I sat though his squash of Curt Hawkins trying to process it, not able to type anything but “hahahahahaha” into Twitter, a reaction very similar to the one I had when Chris Jericho showed up last week in an LED jacket and trolled the audience. He danced through the match, hit a suplex and said “MY BAD”, and … I don’t know, I love it. I love the Funkasaurus. If they bait and switch us here and have him re-repackaged as a guy who we suddenly HAVE TO TAKE SERIOUSLY because HE DOESN’T NEED A GIMMICK BLERGH or whatever I’m going to pissed. Wrestling needs this. It needs a Funkasaurus.

This is a wrestling fan. He doesn’t understand why you f**ked up Brodus Clay. He doesn’t understand why you f**ked up Chris Jericho. He doesn’t consider much outside of what he expects to happen, and how what actually happens differs from what he KNEW would work. I don’t know how to properly explain to this guy how one f**king second of Brodus Clay dancing in a track suit has erased every preexisting thought or memory of Brodus Clay in my mind, and how excited I would be if I went to a show on Sunday and the f**king Funkasaurus showed up. I can’t explain to him the nature of spectacle, and how wrestling fans fall in love with the stupidest entertainment medium known to man and get so into it that they forget why they liked it and want it to stop being stupid. Wrestling is stupid. It always has been. It works best when it is okay being stupid without exacerbating it, or trying hard to be “good” (or “a movie” in Vince McMahon speak) and fails miserably.

The shorter version: a dancing fat guy who can kill you with his body > badly written melodrama. If Brodus shows up as Tough Fat Guy, he’s third place behind Show and Henry. If Brodus shows up as Earl from Toejam and f**king Earl he’s #1 on the list of dudes who are exactly like Earl. It’s a great call, and I want Funky Kong to take the Rumble.

Worst: Great Job With That Wrestling Career, Funkettes

Seeing NXT’s Naomi and “Melina vs. Alicia Fox is the greatest match of all time” Cameron Lynn as dancers for Brodus was a little disheartening, and without going too deeply into it I’ll say 1) it must be weird when you devote your life to pro wrestling and the product of your sacrifice is “we dance with the fat guy and don’t have names”, and 2) it doesn’t do a lot to help that whole “black people in WWE” problem, where you either smile and jump for the enjoyment of the crowd or you’re a robber or a militant or a crazy idiot.

Granted, this could be a way to get Naomi and Cameron into the show as a tag team, and with Eve/Kelly and the Bella Twins and Pin-Up Strong and The Chickbusters you’ve already got a deeper division than the men. This could also be the first step in Cameron Lynn’s meteoric rise to being the first ever female WWE Champion. I think the second option is more believable than the first.

Worst: Hey Curt Hawkins, You’re Doing It Wrong

curt-hawkinsAs far as I can tell, Curt Hawkins’ gimmick consists of three things:

1. Not being Zack Ryder

2. Making awful cartoons on the Internet in an attempt to be Zack Ryder and have them taken down

3. Carrying a staff

I might’ve missed the episode where they establish whether it’s a staff or a walking stick, but he carries a stick to the ring and doesn’t hit anybody with it. His WWE resume currently reads “teamed up with pre-Crisis Zack Ryder, Vance Archer and Tyler Reks”, which is reaching Marcus Alexander Bagwell levels of awful tag team partners. I’m just gonna go ahead and say I don’t like Curt Hawkins the wrestler, have no emotional attachment to him (even though I have a deep love for a lot of lowercard WWE performers) and wish, I don’t know, Sugar Dunkerton had his job. At least Sugar wouldn’t record his mark Internet cartoon dialogue over the phone.

Best: But No, Seriously, The Funkasaurus

I love you, Funkasaurus, don’t ever leave me.

Worst: Don’t Be Afraid, Zack, The Internet Will Protect You

See No Evil 2: The Heretic went from enjoyably bad to bad-bad around this point, when Zack Ryder and John Cena had another buddy-buddy discussion about how great they are to each other backstage. It gets a small best, however, for the ridiculously non sequitur aspects of their conversation. I’m paraphrasing here:

Ryder: “Last week Kane tried to drag me to Hell and you saved me, bro! You saved me! You saved me from traveling what I an only assume is some sort of astral plane and discovering that the theological idea of a Christian Hell full of fire and dead people and The Devil is real, and being trapped there and being burned to death for an eternity, you saved me from that by grabbing my wrist and dragging me across a wrestling ring, bro! I was going to literally die, substantiating 4,000 years of religious unrest and I didn’t all thanks to you.”

Cena: “that’s fine, but did you see you have a bunch of twitter followers now”

THIS would’ve been the time for Ryder to go “are you serious, bro?” and just stare at Cena until he walked away, then never talk to him again.

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