Following Wrestlemania is a tough gig. If the WWE were a Hollywood red carpet, Backlash would be the poor soul who has to step on the velvet five seconds after Angelina Jolie arrived. After the most sought after ‘event’ has arrived, everything else is kind of a let-down.
But Backlash does serve a purpose. It serves as one of those wide janitor’s brooms, sweeping away the dead feuds and fights, and making way for a brand new year. Yes, you’re right, I AM feeling very philosophical today. Backlash turned out to be surprisingly good. Let’s see how it all panned out.
After an intro which sounded like an excerpt from a Tolkien novel, it was time to get down to the serious business of belt exchange. ECW kicked everything off with Christian/Jack Swagger. Yes, I am a peep. I was looking forward to this one. I’m ashamed to say that I don’t give ECW enough of my time, but at least I get to dip a toe in to extweem waters at the PPVs.
The match was very good. There was something very amateur about it. And I mean that in the olympic sense of two men spooning and flipping each other. I like submission moves only slightly less than the high-flying-jumpy nonsense. I think it’s all that long drawn-out touching. The match also produced some in-ring man-hugs, which you know make me all warm and fuzzy inside. They held each other so tight I started singing Johnny Logan’s Hold Me Now. Nothing like a bit of shit Irish pop from the 80s to really pep up a wrestling match.
Christian won and the peeps went wild, including me. Who’d have thought I’d get so excited about an ECW match? Time for Captain Charisma to take his new bling backstage and receive some love from his fellow ECW buds. But wait….someone else is waiting in the wings too. EDGE. Oh My God. Seeing the two of them together again was like opening an old photo album from a decade ago. Amazing. And I loved the whole ‘what happened to you? bit. You used to be…I dunno…fun?’ Edge you’ve chaaaaanged. It’s kind of early in the show for this, but hey, I’ve got plenty of capacity for multiple ones…… WRESTLEGAAAAASSSSSMMM! Oooof! That was nice. What’s next?
Uh-oh. I don’t know if I’m quite ready for another wrestlegasm yet. Chris Jericho’s on his way to the ring. Give me a minute……. Ok, so, on the Raw after Wrestlemania Ricky Steamboat made a big, dragon sized splash. And as the WWE has a penchant for milking a good thing for everything it’s worth, almost a month on they’re still wheeling the poor guy out against Jericho. Is it just me or did Ricky lose a few clumps of hair between Raw and Backlash? He looked extra old, making my earlier claim that he was kind of sexy even more vomit enducing by the day. Anyway….fight.
It wasn’t a great match. It was, however, very noisy. There was lots of AAAAAAAAAAAAH! OHHHHHHHHHHH! HUHHHHHHH! COME OOOOOOON! But if you think about the fact that this is a 56 year old man holding his own against a man young enough to be his son (just) it was quite impressive(ish).I suppose because the match was the end of a feud it didn’t really mean anything. It’s all finito. Jericho twisted Ricky in to the Walls of Jericho and forced him to tap out. Chris left the ring and let the ledge have his moment in the sun.
There was a backstage moment between Santino and Beth, but at this stage I was still boycotting their story so I closed my eyes and ears off to it. Back in the arena Kane and CM Punk were preparing for battle. I almost cut the next part out. My infatuation with ‘CM Punk’s Junk’ has been remarked upon elsewhere in unfavourable terms. But, well, who cares what anyone else thinks? My mission statement warned against this kind of sexual silliness so, legally, I’m covered.
Punk is wearing the lavender coloured trunks again. He obviously read last week’s Raw recap and wore them especially for me….being that I enjoyed them so much. Oh you’re such a flirt, Punky, but you know I love a flirt. Mwah! So, yeah, there was actually a match too. Gotta be honest, I can’t remember much. I really was too distracted. And it was another one of those ‘end of game’ matches, allowing Kane to avenge his loss in the Wrestlemania Money in the Bank match and move on. It was actually pretty solid throughout, and ended with Kane pinning Punk.
Much as I love the lavender shorts, they do have the disadvantage of being quite indescreet with regard to ass-sweat. Personally, I like to think the wet patches are physical symbols of effort, but you might wanna get some Right Guard down there if you’re going to continue wearing those shorts for me, hun.
Now on to Brother vs Brother in the ‘I Quit’ match. I was surpised how much I enjoyed this match. I had planned for boredom and planted Glamour magazine down the side of the armchair in case I needed some additional stimulation. But who needs to know how to recreate Miley Cyrus’ cover-look when you’ve got the wrestling equivalent of Joan Rivers in the ring, in the form of the referee. Armed with a big fluffy mic in his back pocket, he annoyingly shoved it in between Matt and Jeff’s lips at every possible opportunity. At least he didn’t call either of them a fugly bitch or frighten small children with his face.
It was all going as expected until proceedings took a sinister twist. Matt was rolling around in agony. Then came the table, which Matt was spread across. Then, by some magical coincidence, some duct tape and rope appeared. This doesn’t look good for Matthew. Jeff tied him up like a side of beef ready for roasting. All of a sudden I’ve got a hankering for gravy.
Then came the ladder. Uh-oh. Followed by the most hilarious thing I’ve seen in ages. Matt, tied to a table, pleading for his life. “JEFF. I’M SORRY, JEFF. I LOVE YOU, JEFF. MATT LOVES YOU. WE’RE BROTHERS. THE HARDY BOYS. WE CAN DO IT ALL AGAIN. DADDY WOULDN’T LIKE IF YOU DID THIS.” Oh my god, it was amazing, in such a bad way. See what I mean about the WWE being comical in all the wrong places?
Realising that Jeff wasn’t about to retreat, Matt shouted out ‘I QUIT’ and the bell was tolled. But that didn’t stop he of the purple locks. He jumped over the top of his ladder and planted his posterior on his brother’s breast-bone. There’s nothing like family, eh?
Randy Orton did a little piece to camera and back in the arena The Great Khali was carrying his colossal carcus to the ring. Christ, if I wasn’t reviewing this shit I SOOOOOO would have fast-forwarded this next segment. See all the pain I put myself through for my readers? I’m a trooper. Much as I tried to resist it, I did laugh. Even though in my head I was saying “Don’t laugh. It’ll only encourge them to keep churning out this bollocks.” Santino Marella, as far as comedy performances go, is actually really good. But the stories they give him are beyond irritating. The Rock managed to be funny without dressing like a lady. I tried not to laugh when Santina declared her love for Jim Ross, but I couldn’t help it. And when Khali ripped Santina/o’s top off, leaving her/him running out the arena clutching her/his boobs/moobs I actually LOL’d. What’s happening to me? Thank god my old-skool ECW DVDs arrived today. I need a reality check.
Next up we have the match I was kind of dreading. I was just so bored with the whole Macmahon-Family-Masturbation-Moments that I wasn’t sure I could bear any more. AAAAnd I’m pissed off that Shane ignored my advice to wear less clothes. Purely for wellbeing purposes, of course. You know, sometimes I wonder if Randy Orton is actually human. Remember when he first appeared on our screens with a bad haircut and slightly chubby in the face? I swear he went away and Vince sent him back as a cyborg. Seriously, did you see the way Legacy walked to the ring? I’m convinced if you sliced open Orton’s chest an array of sparking wires and cables would pour out.
Anyway, the match wasn’t that bad. In places it was pretty good, especially towards the end when it was just Hunter and Randy in the ring alone. In fact, when Randy jumped in the air, threw his arms around Triple H’s neck and dragged him to the ground I may have just leaped from my armchair and said “YESSSSSS!”. Not that I was involved or anything. A kick to the head later and it was all over. I always feel slightly uneasy when they bring the paramedics in. I know it’s all for dramatic effect, but still, it makes my tummy feel strange. And the way Lawler, Ross and Cole drop their voices down an octive. They do the serious-times voice. Don’t like it. Apparently Triple H is going to have a nice little holiday now. Good. He’s been getting on my nerves. It’ll give me the chance to miss him.
Ok, here we go. Last Man Standing. Edge. John Cena. I’ve been crushing on this match for weeks so it better not disappoint. It didn’t. It. was. awesome. Punch after kick after drop after count. Just when you thought they had taken their last breath, they stumbled to their feet again. It all really started kicking off when Edge cleared the announce table and set John up for a drop through the table. But in a counter move John flipped Edge in to the crowd, dropping his oily form on top of an ‘unsuspecting fan’. Notice how nobody helped the ‘fan’ up to his feet? ha.
Edge DID make it to his feet, so on we go. But not back to the ring……….they then started scuttling through the hyperactive crowd, followed by the referees. From the crowd they moved to the arena lobby, where there seemed to be an alarming number of people shelling out for overpriced nachos and hotdogs while this was going on. Errrrm. Hang on a minute here. I don’t know how much the tickets for Backlash cost, but who would go and buy snacks while the main event was going on? Even if you weren’t a fan of either dude, wouldn’t you at least want to see the headlining match? Strange people.
They re-entered the arena, conveniently finding themselves at the top of the ramp. John dropped Edge in to the hard stage and Edge cracked John with something that just fell in to his hand. It was a carefully positioned hard-hat. Don’t you just hate when construction workers leave their shit lying around? Anyway, Edge whacked John with a chair, but the babe made it back up again, picking Edge up across his shoulders as he went. But just as he was about to go for another drop, Big Show appeared. Whaaaaaa? Oh yeah, he was involved in the same Wrestlemania match. I forgot.
In more adventures in randomness, Big Show lifted John by the neck and slammed in to a large side-stage spotlight thing. I love the idea that someone was sat under the ramp with a big, red, GO button to press when John hit the sugar-glass, so that a big puff of smoke would fly up. And I love that it was set up to have flames coming out the back for authenticity.
The flames were extinguished and with “John Cena covered in shards of glass” he was counted out, giving Edge the much pursued title. See? Told you it was awesome.
And by far the best thing of all was when Christian, Kofi Kingston, Finley and CM Punk (so concerned at John’s condition) came out in their off-duty-wrestler-outfits to see what they could do to assist the medics. Thank god Punk was there to do up that final strap on the stretcher. I mean, seriously, what would the paramedics have done without Dr. Punk’s expertise? I love you WWE.