Backlash: sweeping the big janitor’s broom

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.

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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.

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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.

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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?

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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raw(lite): in my backyard

It has been a progressive week for those of us at wrestlegasm.com….and by ‘us’ I mean me. I made a triumphant return to my driving lessons, the pilates tutor came back from her Easter holidays making me feel all flexi again, it was close but no cigar with regard to meeting Rey Mysterio, and a girl flirted with me while she rubbed a promotional skincare product in to my hands. Yes! A Girl! I was spooked, but she rubbed me nice so I bought the product. Don’t judge. My other half is across the  Atlantic.  I’ll take any physical contact available.

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None of this has anything to do with Raw, so I’d better get started.

The WWE collective made their way over to my fair isle this week as part of their European tour.  I won’t tell you how much it made my heart ache that I couldn’t be in London for Raw and/or Smackdown but I’m still grasping at my chest at regular intervals.  The Cardiff events were house-shows and I doubt anyone that spectacular was there, but still, IT HOITS!

Raw was from the O2 Arena in London this week. Despite my sadness at not being there I was looking forward to being able to watch Monday Night Raw LIVE

  1. on Monday Night
  2. at a reasonable time of the day

Oh how wrong I was. Yes, Raw was in London but I had to wait until 2am for it to be broadcast so that Americans didn’t get annoyed that someone saw it before they did. Pppppfft! Americans. Gotta have everything their own way. Living in the future sucks. No wonder Marty Mcfly went back to 1985 at the end of BTTF 2. And just in case you were unsure whether  Raw was actually in London this week or not, the lame-ass set was there to help you out.

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They should have given me a call. I’m sure I could have come up with a more representative set.

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Anyway, time for some action. The week before they shift over to their new jobs on different brands is always a bit mixed. Welcome to the ‘tying up lose ends’ show. We begin with Mr. Jericho looking rather fetching in another snazzy suit, explaining that we’ve never really understood his brilliance. Honey, I hope you don’t count me in all that. I get your brilliance. I’m all over your brilliance like…ya know. Then we get a visit from Ricky Steamboat.  You know around Wrestlemania when I commented on his possibly hotness?  Errrrm, yeah, I’m gonna need to take that back. Thanks. It was the dad polo under his suit jacket that reversed his appeal. A step too far in to the aged-area.

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Ricky thanked Jericho for challenging the old duffers to a match at WM because it gave him the chance to return to his former glory, which Y2J beat down with a verbal stick, and challenged him to a repeat performance. Pause in the script and whooooooooooop here comes John Cena to put his arm around Steamboat and do a whole “Don’t pick on my mate!” schtick! But he didn’t. Chrissy-boy slinked out of the ring, Ricky Steamboat accepted the Wrestlemania rewind match and John Cena challenged Chris to a match that night. Yuuuuuuum! The two of them shirtless at the same time. Jericho didn’t seem too pleased, but I like to think that’s just because he was worried he wouldn’t look as hunky next to John. John being so enormous and all. It’s alright, sweets, I lust you both equally. Mwah!

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I have no idea what the Chavo Guerrero/Batista bit was all about. An odd comedy time filler. I’ll give it no more of my precious time. Backstage Shane and Dave were lined up to give me my first Man-Hug Moment of the Week but then Shane, like a complete pussy, pulled out at the last minute. Bloody hell Shane, it’s just sweat. It won’t burn your pale Connecticut skin. Doesn’t he realise I LIVE for the man-hugs?

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Next CM Punk Vs Kane. I had been crushing on Punk all week so I was looking forward to his appearance. Ummm, has he always worn those lavender coloured short-shorts, or is it just because I’m paying particular attention to his crotch now that he’s moved up in the hotness league. And why do the light colours seem so much more revealing?  I digress. Punk won the match, proving that wearing lady knickers is conducive to success.

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I’m still maintaining my Santino Embargo, so I won’t say anything about it. Melina beat Beth in her last match on Raw and we’re backstage again with Shane and Triple H. They DID have a man hug moment but I’m pissed off with Shane for retreating from the first one so I’m not giving him the satisfaction of being in another. Let that be a lesson to you, Sir.

On we go and it’s time for John Cena and Chris Jericho.  Good God – I think I died and went to meat-head heaven.  Speaking of meat…………ok I was gonna make a joke about me being the filling in their sandwich but it’s just too obvious.

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The crowd revealed themselves to be unmistakably British during this match. This country hates a good-guy. Seriously, when someone does really well the first reaction of this nation is to bring them down. No wonder we have national self-esteem issues. Maybe that’s why I loves me some USA. I like championing things. The crowd – they boo JC, then they love him.  They chant expletives at him, then they’re all “Ohhh yooou caaaan’t seeee meee!” Make your mind up, London.

In actual wrestling terms it was a pretty good match. Between the physical strength of JC and Jericho’s imaginative moves, it made for an entertaining dalliance, both chucking in their signature moves, both battling like troopers, even if it didn’t really mean anything. It all fell apart when Edge, the ultimate opportunist (thanks, Michael Cole),  interfered and left Johnny lying in the ring. He battered him some more before dragging in some of those special “steel” chairs. Instead of smashing John’s face in with furniture, he just counted him out for ten. Phew! John’s lips are safe!

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On to Rey Mysterio Vs Big Show.  You know what I love about wrestling? That logic plays no part whatsoever. Your educated brain says that the biggest guy in the company could not possibly lose to the tiniest, and yet your wrestling fan brain says “You go for it little-guy. We believe in you!” On this occasion Big Show won. It’s ok, Rey. You’ll live to fight another day. Actually he did. He was in Cardiff the next day signing encyclopedias. SOB!

We finish with our main event of the night.  Am I the only one getting fed up with the whole McMahon family Vs Legacy tripe? I loved it at first but when Triple H won the belt back at WM I started to lose heart. Maybe the peeps in charge have started to realise we’re getting bored because in the middle of Hunter’s entrance they paused to give us a random web-traffic statistic.

We interrupt scheduled programming for this important announcement: Boys like wrestling more than they like Oprah!

We interrupt scheduled programming for this important announcement: Boys like wrestling more than they like Oprah!

Why are they doing Triple H/Orton now? Aren’t we gonna see it ALL OVER AGAIN ON SUNDAY? Well, Monday for me. The match was fine but my storyline related grumpiness overshadowed the moves. It ended in a mass brawl with everyone involved in the Sunday main event knocking lumps out of each other.  Shane’s rolling punches and jabs are hilarious. He was most definitely born in the wrong age.

Randy pinned The Game and feigned a thigh injury to end the night. *bad sigh* Thank god this story comes to an end at the weekend. Sheesh!

FAVOURITE CROWD MEMBER OF THE SHOW

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This little dude. He has no idea what a sycophant is, but he knows he should be booing Chris Jericho when he says it. Awww.

RAW(lite) – the wrestling N.Y.D

So, this post is kind of late in the week, but what with the mammoth Wrestlemania post and setting up the new site and, you know, normal life, this is the first chance I’ve had to write it.  The first Raw after Wrestlemania is always a strange affair.  It’s like the WWE New Year’s Day. The day after the biggest party of the year. Some are full of regret about what went down the night before, and others are brimming with excitement about the future.

We begin with Randy Orton. Awwww. His face hurts. Yeah, well, you know what? My brain hurts from that rubbish ending to Wrestlemania. But that’s not your fault, honey.  Christ, I’m calling Randy Orton HONEY now. I’ve changed.

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But let’s move on.    Randy Orton is one of the best heels around. Seriously, he reeks of creepy badness.  I love it…. and a week ago I never would have said that.  Vince came out in a shade of blazer no man should ever wear, shouting the odds in that unhealthy gravel he calls a voice and punching his finger at Orton with such force I’m surprised he couldn’t feel it up there on the ramp.

Orton spouted a tirade of abuse and challenged Mr. M to fight him, alone, on Raw, without Shane or Triple H to prop him up.  NEVER has the word SIR seemed like such an insult. AMAZING! After much lip-trembling and eye-popping we got a big fat “YOU’RE OOOOOON!” Loverly.

One of the things I miss  during PPVs are the backstage conversations that are ‘just for us to see’. That’s the theatrical shit that makes it work for me.  So, back in the office a 60-something multi-millionaire is taking his clothes off to take on a man young enough to be his son. His actual son is none too chuffed at what his old man has set himself up for. Can I just take a moment to say how much I LOOOOVE Shane’s grey temples?  When I first started watching wrestling he was this irritating, uncool kid. Now he’s quite the distinguished gentleman. Me happy girl. Shane couldn’t persuade daddy he was making a bad move…..’cause Vince, just…just….WANTS ‘IM. hehe. A silly scene, but it made me laugh.

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On to the Divas.  Smackdown Vs Raw, to be precise.  With the Draft coming up tomorrow, a big wrestlegasm in itself, it’s important that anyone who might be in the frame for a change of office cubicle gets an airing the week beforehand. Just so you know who they are. They pulled off some pretty nice moves in this match.  And how cool is Mickey James? She’s wicked! I kind of want to BE her. And I kind of have a girl-crush on Kelly-Kelly. But you don’t wanna know about that, do ya? Well, maybe another day.  In the meantime,  enjoy his picture of my heroine. Luv yaaaaaa!

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Shane is still stressing behind the scenes, so he turns to his brother-in-law for assistance. God, I love watching them talk to each other. I know this is ‘for TV’ and they obviously have a lighter convo style in real life, but I like to imagine them talking to each other on Christmas Day like that. By the way, best man-hug-moment I’ve seen in AGES.

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On to the All Star Tag Team Match – Raw Vs Smackdown. Good Lord, I think I might combust. Chris Jericho, John Cena, CM Punk, Jeff Hardy, Matt Hardy, Edge, Big Show, Kane, Rey Mysterio and Ricky Steamboat all in one match. Shit. What a combo. My pants thank you.  By the way, I am TOTALLY falling in love with Punk. It’s the Chicago thing, I think. It tipped me over the edge. Also, one of my favourite moments of the night – Rey Mysterio giving his mask fringe to a random kid in the crowd. Awww. Bless. I predict that kid will be on Raw 15 years from now telling the story of how Rey inspired him to be a wrestler. I guarantee it.

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Only the day after Wrestlemania would we see this many main eventers in one match. That doesn’t normally happen. We don’t even see these boys all on one SHOW, let alone in one match. They usually spread the top talent out.  What a TREAT! Every time a new hand slapped that of someone in the ring, I got a lovely little buzz of eeeeeeeeee-xcitement. I gotta say, how freakin’ awesome is Ricky Steamboat? This man is older than my dad! He’s 56 years old, for god’s sake. I agree with the chanting crowd. “You still goooot it!!!!”. And I love how much everyone hates Jericho at the moment. I laughed out loud when Chris came in to do some damage to Steamboat and Michael Cole blasted “Here comes Jericho like a VULTURE! Chris Jericho’s a VULTURE.” But a really hot vulture, yah?

I can’t tell you much more about the match, other than it left me feeling very fulfilled. To be honest, they could have ended Raw right there and I would have given it a glowing report.

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On we go….Triple H, in a battle of the noses,  was unable to persuade daddy-dearest that scrapping with Orton was just silliness, and we were joined in the arena by Vicky Guerrero. I know it’s her job to be annoying, but bloody hell, that voice. Urgh! And the way she pronounces ‘Orton’ winds me up. Vicky, it’s OR-TON. OOOOR-TTTTTON. So, she has opted to be Raw general manager in preparation for next week’s draft. Curious.Veeery curious.  I kind of skipped the Santina thing. I watched it but tried to block it out.  It makes me want to punch my fist through a wall.

In no time at all (wow, that was a quick Raw) we’re at the main event of the evening. Mr. Vincent Kennedy McMahon against Randy Orton….or Randy Orrrun as Vicky calls him. I wasn’t expecting much of the match.  I figured Legacy would be back on the scene, having been so rudely left out of Wrestlemania. And I supposed that Triple H and Shane would retaliate. But what actually happened was totally unexpected…at least to me. I HATE spoilers with a passion. Maybe others knew it was going to happen, but I like to see things as they play out. Otherwise, where’s the excitement?  Oh, yeah, I haven’t told you what happened. Duh! Ok…….

As predicted, it was a complete mis-match. Shane couldn’t take it any more, flew in to the ring and started pummelling Orton. I love watching Shane fight. He still seems like a little boy to me. Cute little thing that he is. Rhodes and DiBiase joined in to save their leader from a further ShaneOMac-attack, Orton joined in and then The Game put his oar in. Of course. Everything’s going just as I had anticipated. With all the McMahon brood under the cosh, they needed some assistance. But who’s gonna be their hero?

Some VERY loud guitar chords blast in to the arena.  Only regular wrestling viewers will understand this, but you know when someone hasn’t been around for a while….maybe because they’ve been injured…… then they return unexpectedly. The music hits and you know the music, and the cogs in your brain start revolving to figure out who it is. It only takes a second. Maybe two. But I love that moment where you realise who it is. THEY are wrestlegasm moments.

So, who was it………..

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OH MY GOD! It was so amazing.  Even though I’m kind of in Orton’s camp since WM, Dave looked so bloody cool. He picked Legacy off one at a time and got all three to scamper off up the ramp. I repeat, SO. BLOODY. COOL. And a TOTAL wrestlegasm moment. Seeing him with his old pal and Shane up there in the ring made my week.

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But the best moment of all was when Vince, lying outside the ring in his black smock, said……………………………………………

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Randy Orton was beside himself. Devastated. So now we have a brand new feud on the go. Just like that. That’s why I love this nonsense.

FAVOURITE CROWD MEMBER OF THE SHOW

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This lady, who seemed absolutely MORTIFIED that Primo and Carlito had taken the Tag-Team belts. I cannot imagine how involved she got with the more interesting stuff. Now THAT’S DEDICATION!

FINAL THOUGHTS

I am super-excited about tomorrow’s draft. I loooooove the draft. A spot of Spring cleaning is always refreshing. And a few surprises are always very welcome.

I’ll do a quick Smackdown recap tomorrow morning (BST) to bring everything nicely up to do date. This long Easter weekend is proving to be very handy.

BLEARY EYED AND SATISFIED: DIARY OF A WRESTLEMANIA HANGOVER

[This post was originally posted on http://buymyown.wordpress.com and has been imported in to wrestlegasm.com by the author]

Ahhh Wrestlemania.  The highlight of the wrestling calendar. Trying to strike the balance between expectation and delivery is like walking a 50ft tightrope. It could swing either way with the tiniest slip of the heel. But from tightropes and heels to turnbuckles and, well, heels. But I’m not talking about the round bit at the back of your foot this time.  The hype surrounding the Triple H v Randy Orton match had reached fever pitch and promised to be the explosive culmination of not only their saga, but also the entire WM25 weekend. Did it deliver all that was expected? Well, you’ll just have to read on won’t you.

Sunday. Wrestlemania day. AAAAAAAAAARGH! The excitement was beginning to build and I set about baking my WM25 cupcakes. Yep. That’s right. I baked Wrestlemania cupcakes and spent almost the entire afternoon icing them in a suitable fashion. Ah what fun. Whaddaya think? Want one? Just don’t take the John Cena ones. I want to eat John all by myself. Aight? ;)

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Before anyone emails or comments to let me know that Hulk Hogan has nothing to do with this year’s event…. yes, I AM aware.  But my buddy Emma Monkey has love for just one wrestler. Hogan. Don’t even ask. I had to make her a Hogan cupcake or she would have beaten me up. Also take note of my Ric Flair WOOOOO! cake. I added some icing tears for him. Doesn’t Flair always look like he’s just finished watching The Notebook or something?

Anyway, let’s crack on. I took a one hour nap to get me through the long night ahead. I dragged myself toward the TV  in my new PJs  just as it was starting. Oooh the excitement.  WHOA! All those people. All those fireworks. All those MILLIONS of dollars in Vince McMahon’s bank account.

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Speaking of money in the bank (b0om-boom)……

The MITB match was brill. I was convinced that Kofi Kingston would win.  At some point, if he doesn’t eff his chance up, he will get a big push, you mark my words.  I love ladder matches.  They’ve got that sinister “anyone could break a bone at any moment” allure. My brother, who only watches wrestling sporadically these days, called it that CM Punk would do the double.  Good for him. Punk, not my flukey brother. Punk has potential as a  future crush if any of the others bid the ring farewell. And I do have a thing for boys from his part of the world.

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Time for a musical interlude. Kid Rock. Kid Rock? Really? Well. Ok, then. I don’t really get the choice of crooner and I’m not a fan, but whatever. It’s the early hours of Monday morning and I’ll take anything I can get to keep me awake.  What the hell was wrong with that crowd? Did I miss something? They reacted as if he had just announced himself as a serial killer or something. Did he? I was  a bit sleepy.  There is a possibility I could have dozed off. I’m don’t like his music but I would at least show some respect, fools. Maybe it was the NYC hipster glasses.  They say “I think (I’m cool), therefore I am.” No.

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His set neatly left the ladies of the WWE in the ring. Oh God. I want so much to respect this, but I’m struggling. I admire the women in the WWE. No, really. Let me explain. The majority are displayed as nothing greater than Playboy mansion rejects and yet to keep their bodies in that kind of shape they have to work bloody hard. They rarely get a decent storyline that isn’t based entirely on sex and often they only get a really mainstream push if they’re written on to the arm of one of the big boys. Oh dear. I’ve gone a little off topic I’ll have to come back to this in a future post, I think.

So, the match. I wasn’t paying that much attention until I realised there was a strange looking “Lady” in a Victoria Beckham wig in the corner. Urggggggh, no. Santino. I know he’s a comedy character and it’s all meant to be taken in jest, but I’m over this Santina thing before it even gets going. I thought it would end up with Beth and “Santina” in the ring with Beth winning. Nope. A MAN was Miss Wrestlemania.  I give up. *smacks forehead*

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On to a proper(ish) match. Lover numero uno, Chris Jericho, was in action against the legends and the prospect of a probable appearance from Mickey Rourke hung in the air. Incidentally, I know he made an awesome film about this industry that I love, but I can’t get over how awful he looks. The best advertisement for living a clean life if ever I saw one.  He looked about as uncomfortable as a Hollywood comeback kid could look sitting in the front row with all the rowdy wrestling meatheads.  NOTE TO SELF: Remember that actors are not the characters they play.

Jericho’s music hit and I got a funny feeling in my tummy. The first of many that night. Out he came  (cue gratuitous pants shot)……………..

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Mmm. Nice. He was closely followed by the legends. Piper is holding up well, despite his personal troubles, although, he’s the most American Scot I’ve ever  heard. Apart from maybe John Barrowman. Jimmy Snuka, bless him. Even pulling on his tribal threads can’t hide the fact that he’s rolling down the other side of the hill. Fair play to him for having a go though. Ricky ‘The Dragon’ Steamboat is in surprisingly remarkable shape.  If I were 30 years older……..no. That’s just wrong.  Then there’s the tearful pack-leader, Ric Flair. I hear that Flair was the life and soul of the party at the hotel, entertaining fans and colleagues alike. Good on ya, fella.  Naming no names, but maybe you could teach some of the more junior boys that skill. (I’ll name names later on…..don’t disappear before the end, k?)

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Jericho won the match, which surprised me. I was sure the old timers would bring it on home. But then, where could it have gone from there? Mickey Rourke was goaded in to joining my man in the ring, despite the reservations of the faux cronies, who he was flanked by in the crowd.  He smooshed Jericho in the chops and Flair encouraged the crowd to heap praise upon Hollywood. Bastards!

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I’d like to tell you all about the Hardy brothers match, but between making some tea, gathering my snacks and rescuing one of my cats from a mishap, I missed a lot of it. Sad but true. But I did end up with a happy cat and sustenance for the rest of the night.

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Then on to Rey Mysterio v JBL, which was so short it’s not even worth a picture. Oh yeah, and JBL quit. A week before the draft? Hmmm. Interesting. Not really.  Who cares? I was starting to feel a little disappointed with WM25. It was all………..fine, but I wasn’t feeling blown away.  My hypothetical tightrope walker was looking wobbly. Very wobbly. But that was all about to change.

Last week I was feeling fairly uninspired by the Undertaker/Shawn Michaels match.  In fact, I believe I said that Michaels was….kind of…MEH! Ouch! I’m sorry. Sometimes I get caught up the in matches that involve the boys I fancy the pants off and forget the others.  This match was not just the best match at Wrestlemania this year, it was one of the best freakin’ matches I’ve EVER seen. That’s in ten years of wrestling. I am in TOTAL AWE. Move after move, after move, after move……. it was a beautifully choreographed dance between partners who seemed to know each other so well it flowed without so much as a second thought. Oh yeah, after many a count-out saved by a last second raise of the arm, Undertaker scooped up the win. Urgh! My cupcake lied. But how could it lie to me when it was so delicious?  Kind of reminds me of this……

  • hmMindy: What’s wrong?
  • Homer: Oh, yeah, like you don’t know.  [weeping] We’re gonna have sex!
  • Mindy: Oh…well, we don’t have to.
  • Homer: [sad] Yes we do! The cookie told me so.
  • Mindy: Well…desserts aren’t always right.
  • Homer: But they’re so sweet.

I don’t think I’ll be using the ‘predictions by cupcake’ method again. Last week I said it wasn’t really about what happens in the ring. That’s not entirely true. The dramaz can’t live without quality wrestling and the top-notch ring action can’t function without a context.   A truly, truly fantastic match.  My tightrope walker just got his balance back. Now, someone please pass me the humble pie…..and a fork.

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I kind of feel sorry for anyone who has to follow that. I mean, seriously, TOUGH BREAK!  But if you can’t compete with the moves you might as well go with a soap opera storyline.  Infidelity, passion, revenge…yep, it can only be  Edge, Big Show and the light of my life….John Cena. BE STILL MY BEATING PANTS! With Edge and Big Show already in the ring I was curious to know if John Cena would use some kind of special gimmick to get himself in the ring.  My fave was Wrestlemania 22. Remember? The 1920s gangster thing?  Oooorgh. I loved it.  Click here if you need a reminder. This time, I thought all my Christmases had come at once. What appeared to be hundreds of  cloned John Cenas made their way down the ramp. There are  a million dirty jokes I could tell in relation to this, really, I’ve got a lot, but I’ll save you from them for now. Just look at the picture and make up your own.jce

The match itself wasn’t mindblowing, but following Undertaker/Michaels, anything would have looked a little bland.  I watched it back a couple of times. It was good and I’m super-chuffed that John Cena managed to impress my brother when he lifted both Big Show and Edge on his back. Wow! That kind of strength is……SUPER-WOW! If he can pick them up he could TOTALLY hold me up. Errrr, moving on. Swiftly. Before I combust.

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I was tired, but I was holding my own and staying awake.  Here’s proof ………….

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John won the match, which made me a smiley-kylie, but it also made it far less likely that Randy Orton would win the final match of the night. You can’t have two belts on RAW. Don’t get me wrong….I love Triple H, but that hold he has over backstage proceedings can be slightly nauseating at times. Anyway, before the headliner, time for a a little Hall of Fame styleee interlude. They all came on out, waved to the adoring crowd and we waited for the GOD that is Stone Cold Steve Austin to appear in an ill-fitting suit.

There he was. What a hero. What a legend. What a…..hey…..WHERE’S HE GOING? Why is he walking off the stage when everyone else is still on the stage? Maybe it was because it was somewhere between 3am and 4am and I was not quite feeling human, but I totally bought it.  I found myself wondering what contentious backstage spat had made everyone’s favourite beer-drinker walk off-stage. Then this happened….

sssaIt. Was. Amazing. I didn’t just smile, I beamed. BEAMED. God, I wish he was still around. Damn his severe neck injury that forced early retirement. I’ll love you forever Stone Cold. FOR-EH-VAH!

On to the main event of the night – Triple H v Randy Orton for the WWE Championship belt. The day before Wrestlemania I proclaimed to my boyfriend that I hated Randy Orton (he’s a huge fan) and that Triple H would be my victorious hunny-bunny. Then on Sunday morning the boyf told me some stories about Triple H that broke my heart.  Apparently, he had been snippy with fans attending Wrestlemania, refusing to sign autographs, have pictures taken and speak with fans. I don’t know if it’s true or not. I mean, it’s the interwebz, they could just be spreading nasty rumours. But it took some of the shine off for me. Maybe I need to promote CM Punk to lover number 3 and put Hunter or probation. Yeah, I’m sure he’s devastated about that. As a result of the rumour mill, I went in to the match a little subdued – still not thinking much of Randy Orton. But that was about to turn on its head, thanks to one line from Jerry ‘The King’ Lawler.

I watched as Randy Orton slithered his way down the ramp like some kind of big cat, hoping that the excitement I feel when I hear “Time to Play the Gaaaaaame!” would still feel the same. I watched Randy Orton. I watched and admired his physique. “Whether I like him or not, his body is AMAZING. PERFECT, even.” I thought. Then The King gave me a Wrestlegasm moment. Well, his words did anyway. The camera zoomed in on Orton, and after a long pause, out of nowhere, came:

“Somehow, evil isn’t supposed to look that good.  He looks like he was chiseled from stone.”

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WRESTLEGASSSSMMMMM! They were the perfect words at the perfect moment.  I bloody love you, Lawler. And you Orton. How the hell did that happen? Fastest U-turn ever. I should go in to politics. All of a sudden I found myself in Randy Orton’s corner. My boyfriend predicted that, somehow, I would eventually fall under Orton’s spell. I thought he was crazy. He’s obviously a very sane young man after all. Triple H’s entrance was pretty impressive, throwing a sledge hammer through a mirrored wall and all, but he had already lost my heart to Orton. At the very least I hoped for an explosive match. Errrrm…..didn’t quite happen.

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The match didn’t have the in-ring WHOA-Factor of Taker/Michaels, and didn’t deliver the intense, bitter, family-fueled drama it promised. CHEATEEEEED! Where were Legacy? I only commented the day before on how great of an opportunity it was Rhodes and DiBiase to be part of such a huge story. Yeah, well, there was no place for them at Wrestlemania. No Stephanie, no Linda, bearly a glimpse of Vince and Shane. What a crock of shit!.  It’s not that the wrestling was terrible, it’s just that, after such an enormous build-up, it all went a bit flat. Like the air slowing seeping out of a bicycle tyre.  Triple H took home the belt and we were left with him on the ropes being all victorious like, and the crowd leaving. The crowd were leaving the Wrestlemania stadium BEFORE IT WAS EVEN OFF THE AIR. Oh dear. That can’t be good.

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All in all I enjoyed my (very) early morning romp with my wrestle-boys-n-girl……or was it a really late night? I dunno. I took myself off to bed just after 4am, slept til 8:30am and spent most of this week trying to recover the hours I lost and the skin under my eyes. I’ve got some MAJOR luggage under my eyeballs. But it was sooooooo worth it.

Final shout out of the night goes to this couple, who managed to get a full shot of the Welsh flag on screen. Well done, darlings. Proud of ya.

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