Before we get started with this week’s edition of the Guest and Worst of Raw, a couple notes to cover:
- To reiterate, the delightful Brandon is on vacation and has passed on the responsibility for this week’s recap to myself. Despite being a lifelong wrestling enthusiast, writer and most importantly, vegan, I’m fairly sure I was given this gig due to my ties to Kaiju Big Battel. Kaiju was a touring Vaudvillian show which combined the story structure and live performances of pro wrestling with the showy elements and characters of a Godzilla/Super Sentai movie. Sorta like Extremely Strange Wrestling if it was “watchable,” or Lucha VaVOOM with fewer whores.
- Although it doesn’t justify it’s own bullet point, my time with Kaiju was both as a writer and performer, most notably as the character of Dr. Cube through the majority of the Oughts. Yes, I’m a bit smaller than you think in person; Yes, I was also SuperWrong; and No, that was Chuck Taylor at that one Chikara show. MOVING ON!
- As always, comments are greatly appreciated as they’re a great metric for understanding what works and what doesn’t. That having been said, I should just be honest upfront and let you know that I’m terrified of criticism and will probably avoid the comments section for the next week like Mayweather avoids Pacquiao.
- (Full disclosure, that last sentence read “…like Julie Taymore avoids Gawker Media” until my girlfriend told be to change it to something “more accessible.” Brandon will be back next week, everybody!)
- I’d like to take a moment here to thank Casey Boyd and Andrew Johnson for their help with screen shots and art. Casey even Photoshop’d an image of Andrew “Test” Martin in a Polar Bear suit that I wish I’d gotten to use, but didn’t make the edit. Also, it should go without saying that I want to thank Brandon for the really great work he’s put into these columns. They’re hilarious, and I hope minimally to do right by this column while he’s away. Thanks for the opportunity, Brandon.
- Lastly, I’d like to apologize for the late post, but I’m West Coastin’ it, and was waiting for that Andrew “Test” Martin in a Polar Bear suit art to get back to me.
On to the show…
Worst: Oh Great, CM Punk
It’s not that CM Punk isn’t great on the mic, and it’s certainly not that I haven’t bought into what’s been going on the last couple months. Punk has been consistently the meat-and-potatoes of every episode of Raw for something like 12 straight weeks. The problem is no one wants eat the same thing for 3 months. Punk opening the show is starting to remind me of the days of Nitro when Tony Schiavone would start to tell you what was on tap for that night’s events, and as much as you were hoping for Super Calo and Ciclope and Silver King and… (looking it up) DAMIEN to come out and just do a solid curtain-jerk, the wah-wah of the nWo theme would crank up and you’d go back to doing your homework.
Listen man, everyone likes a well-cooked steak. But you gotta eat a salad every once in a while or you’re gonna get scurvy.
And if I have to watch another 3 months of Paul Burchill matches, I’m f**king done.
Worst: the Corporate Ladder of the WWE
It’s strange to give Spoiler Alerts for a recap of a show that you’ve either already seen, or that you’re reading this to get out of the due diligence of actually watching (my English professor just closed the webpage for this article in disgust, and then hung himself). After Punk came out and said he thought the head of the capital-C Conspiracy is someone higher than COO Triple H, my mind reeled. I actually turned to the people I was watching with and asked who could possibly be above a Chief Operating Officer. CEO? Chairman of the Board? President (more on that later)? Instead, we were treated to XVPTR John Laurenitas coming out in attempt to silence Punk and fire him. Maybe I’m just picking nits, but it’s this kinda mental lapse that takes me out of moments of general intrigue and makes me think that creative is leaning way too hard on a guy like Punk to improv his way through dialogue that they’re just trying to handwave through.
Best: the WWE’s (Classy) Version of a Murder Mystery
So Triple H doesn’t know what’s going on (just like the audience), but he does know that SOMEONE is responsible and SOMEONE is getting fired tonight. What intrigue! If Hercule Poirot only ended every case by hitting the murderer in the face with a sledgehammer, I think I might’ve made it all the way through 9th grade Lit.