The Best And Worst Of WWE Raw 9/26

Oh hi mark.

– For those of you who only show up to read Best and Worst (shame on you), I’m back from my nearly week-long vacation in sunny southern California for a mix of Dodgers baseball, Brady Bunch house visits and mark photos with SoCal Jack Skellington and have returned to my post as the Raw reviewer who is extremely positive about everything but only likes Alberto Del Rio. Before I start, I want to give another thank you to Andrew Johnson for filling in on The Best And Worst Of WWE Night Of Champions and to Diego “the only Dr. Cube that matters” McCafferty for The Guest And Worst Of Raw 9/19. They did a fantastic job filling in, and if you haven’t read those recaps yet, please do so.

– Like I said, this is my first column back in two weeks, so I am going to absolutely badger you to f’ing death for comments, Facebook shares, Twitter retweets, Google Plus plus-ones, Friendster wall posts (does Friendster have a wall? I can’t remember), Xanga rants and Diaryland entries in the support of Best and Worst of Raw. They are appreciated, and if I don’t get enough of them I’m turning With Leather into an indecipherable mass of misdirecting Stephanie McMahon Nude Click Here links and Free iPod announcements.

– In case you need to be bribed, and because last week nobody here liked her enough to include a gratuitous picture, here is Smackdown’s A.J. doing a split.

Enjoy the Best and Worst of Raw for September 26, because it’s all downhill from here.

Worst: Good Luck With Your Lives, America

Two weeks away from pro wrestling, and what’s the first thing I come back to? The very first thing? It’s Michael Cole introducing the ominous Hell In A Cell structure for a Hell In A Cell-themed pay-per-view full of Hells in Cells happening this Sunday by announcing its square-footage and declaring it larger than most American homes. Is that supposed to be awe-inspiring? I was homeless for a while as a child. I spent the rest of it in apartments and bad neighborhoods one step away from Section 8 housing. Thanks, WWE, for reminding me that instead of spending money to help somebody who isn’t a Troop or a Make-a-Wish, you spent x-thousands of dollars to build a 3,500 square-foot thing for the Spirit Squad to wrestle in.

All right, enough negativity. Maybe we’ll start off with a match, and I’ll be able t-

Best: In The Interest Of New Dynamics

I’m settling in to the reality that Theme From Triple H is going to start every Raw (and that it won’t suddenly be one of the funny ones, like Mystikal’s version from back when WWE made albums that sounded like rape threats, i.e. “Forceable Entry”) and that my continuous bitching about how he is Literally the Parasite from Superman and drains the life energy of anything he touches isn’t helping anybody. I wouldn’t have reacted well to Night of Champions. While I never seem to enjoy Raw’s 20-minute opening monologue, I did enjoy seeing and hearing some of the characters who never get to speak out of story air their grievances and act and react like people who might be doing this for a living.