smackdown(lite): bottle of krug and a tube of body lotion

I watched last week’s Smackdown on Saturday morning. I wrestled with whether to watch it on Friday or watch the first show from the new series of Strictly Come Dancing (that’s our Dancing with the Stars to all you non-British types). No brainer! Much as I love wrestling, I’m a romantic. I may be an independent, modern woman, but I pang for the opportunity to be swept across the dancefloor in a sparkly dress by a handsome partner. *sigh* But are ballroom dancing and wrestling so different? Two people walk in to the middle of a crowd, throw each other around a bit in tight,  brightly coloured outfits, and are told at the end whether they were liked or not. I’ll apologise in advance for anyone who loathes Strictly. I have a hunch it will be referenced regularly between now and Christmas.

When I'm ever so slightly famous, James Jordan will be my partner on Strictly. And he will dip me every day.

When I'm ever so slightly famous, James Jordan will be my partner on Strictly. And he will dip me every day.

Ahem. Anyway, Smackdown. It is a truth universally acknowledged that once a wrestling show reaches perfection, someone has to jimmy with it and tilt it the wrong way.  I’ll just assume the Smackdown creative team had a bad week. It happens. Something felt very ‘Raw’ about this week’s Smackdown. And that can rarely be taken as a compliment.

At Breaking Point, Teddy long screwed the Undertaker out of the heavyweight title. CM Punk was in on it, the referee was in on it, the audience were not. Taker had won the match against Punk, but Teddy announced that the hold he’d used was illegal and therefore, the match had to continue. Punk went on to win the match, but something iffy was going on. Taker never actually tapped out. Shock horror!

By the time Smackdown rolled around Teddy had realised the consequences of pissing the Undertaker off would not be pleasant. So, he surrounded himself with a bevy of bodyguards and kept one looked over his shoulder at every opportunity.

After Batista’s slightly subdued departure from Raw, it seems a good night’s sleep was all he needed to put the spring back in his step.


Dave announced that he had been given the opportunity to choose which brand he returned to once his injury was all healed. He chose Smackdown.


But the love-in was interrupted by resident melancholic, Chris Jericho.  Trust Jericho to slice through the saccharine and bring big Dave Batista down with a bump. A verbal bump, that is. Dave responded with a physical bump and the promise of a match later on. Game on!


Jericho was furious and stormed backstage to place the blame for his misfortune on Big Show. Apparently, even though Chris wanted to face Dave all on his own, Big Show was supposed to rescue him if it looked like things were about to kick off. Nobody told Show. Uh-oh. Things aren’t looking too good for the odd couple. I’m sensing friction. I’m sensing………


It’s time for a match – John Morrison vs Mike Knox with Dolph Ziggler on commentary.  This week’s words of wisdom from Dr. Mike Knox made no sense whatsoever. He did a whole speech about Restless Leg Syndrome which ended with “John Morrison, they haven’t found a cure yet!” What? Mike Knox is going to GIVE John Morrison a neurological condition for which nobody actually knows the cause? Lunacy.  I wonder if that’s how my grandma got it. Maybe Mike Knox beat my grandma in a local wrestling match years ago and left her with RLS. I’ll ask her and get back to you.

Quite frankly, yes.

Quite frankly, yes.

The match itself was fine but the whole purpose of it was to have Ziggler join JR and Todd Grisham at the announce table to big-up his PPV match against Morrison. Dolph was pretty good at being the arrogant heel on the headset. I particularly liked Todd Grisham’s constant interruptions with gasps of excitement about the match. Oh Todd. Nobody’s looking at the match. We’re all wondering how long it’ll be before we hear John Morrison start another Mr. Ziggles chant. We didn’t have to wait long. As you might expect, John Morrison won the match. Knox became insignificant and Morrison turned his attentions to the announce table. Yes, more kids TV stuff. I don’t expect juicy swear words and obscenities on Smackdown, but I do expect the insults to be a step up from Oscar the Grouch, Mr. Morrison.

He cites his feud with John Morrison as valuable experience.

He cites his feud with John Morrison as valuable experience.

Josh Matthews was put to work early, but he was not told to interview a wrestler. Oh no. This was one of those rare occasions where a referee had something to explain. Why DID Scott Armstrong commit such a heinous act of refereedom against The Undertaker?


A man of scruples indeed. You see, this is where wrestling deviates from sport and becomes television. In any other sport, if a referee had been  caught cheating, they’d be fired on the spot for gross misconduct and shunned by all associated with their sport. Not wrestling. Wrestling is TV. So we say “Yeah, whatever. Which match is on next?”

The next match on was a ladies’ match. Michelle McCool was back in ring, +limp, -dodgy crutches. She spent most of her time running away from Melina in an attempt to protect her faux pain.  Jim Ross offered to show Todd Grisham how his works after the show……..


Todd Grisham passed up the offer. Thanks, JR.  Now I’m left with the image of you bending backwards in pink tights and a halter-top. A beloved veteran broadcaster you may be, but nobody needs that mental picture in their life. Melina did one of those high pitched screams girls do in low-rent horror movies and Todd Grisham proclaimed that he’d never heard a woman scream like before. It’s ok, darl. Keep plugging away and you’ll hear one soon. 😉 He also compared Melina’s scream to an Alfred Hitchcock film. Sure. Film noir subtext, hot chick in fuchsia coloured lycra, totally the same thing. A second scream and a yank through the legs – McCool was toast.

Backstage, Teddy was still on pins and keeping an eye out for an angry Undertaker.  Vince McMahon appeared and Teddy soon realised there had been some kind of misunderstanding between them. Vince had said ‘Entertain’, Teddy had heard ‘double-cross the Undertaker’. Vince ordered that Teds get out in to the ring and explain himself in front of the crowd.  He entered the ring surrounded by some security dweebs…………


….. made his apologies and left, heading straight for his limo. And here begins one of the most cheap-ass segments I’ve seen on Smackdown in a very long time. I expect this garbage from Raw, but really Smackdown. Hang your head in shame. Pictures speak louder than words in this case:


Of course, what a picture can’t convey is the awful voice effect they stuck on Teddy. That’s what happens to you on your ride down to Hades. Your voice sounds like one of those cheap kiddie microphones that changes the tone of your voice and leads to much play-time mirth.

So, with Teddy on his way to hell and the referee downing triple scotches in a dive bar, only CM Punk was left in the explain game. He made us feel bad about ourselves, confirmed that he was indeed right about making the Undertaker tap out (not really, but whatever) and told us we needed a good preaching to. CM, I’m interested in this ‘giving me a good preaching ‘ business. Why don’t I grab a bottle of Krug from the fridge, find a couple of glasses and you can tell me aaaaall about it……. ok, I’m not really getting this ‘straight edge’ thing am I.


Cryme Tyme took the Hart Dynasty on with Natalya and Eve scooting around the ring. It was a pretty decent match but I can’t tell you too much about it. I spent the majority of it trying to mathematically calculate how many squats I’d have to do to make my thighs look like Eve’s. And since the next match involved Kane and the Great Khali, I dug out my scientific calculator and worked it out properly. The answer is 12,583. I’ve got a lot of work to do. This was happening just as I got done.


Actually, something did happen in between those two matches. Melina, all showered and gussied up, entered the ladies’ lockeroom only to find hundreds of pictures of Dolph Ziggler and Michelle McCool (apparently canoodling) plastered across the walls. Of course, we know it was all a fix-up my Michelle McCool from last week. But Maria won’t know that. So Melina went about ripping them down from the walls to save her best bud’s tears. It all backfired. Maria thought MELINA had done it to prove a point and suggested this may be the end of their friendship. Poor Melina. She was just trying to help! You know what might have helped though, Melina? If you’d said…….


Charlie Haas was supposed to fight R-Truth, but as WHAT’S UP started playing, Mr. Drew McIntyre started swaying down the ramp in Truth’s place. Ok, he seems to like this brightly coloured buttoned shirts with black slacks look. This shirt is slightly more fitted than that ghastly red one and he managed to pull on a pair of sock this week, so I’ll let it slide. Drew declared that R-Truth would not be showing up and that Charlie was indeed the winner by default.  Drew held his hand out to Charlie to congratulate him on his easy win, but then this happened…..


Obviously Mr. McIntyre has no intention of making friends with anyone on Smackdown. That really doesn’t help in you assimilation to American life, Drew. Where’s that Celtic charm those of us with Scottish, Irish and Welsh blood are supposed to exude?

Batista’s return to Smackdown was made nice and smooth with a match against Chris Jericho. Jericho’s a workhorse. He does whatever he’s told and makes it look effortless. Dave won the match and set things up for another JeriShow encounter against Show next week. But most importantly, I’d like to know who that can of hair mousse and the tube of Bath and Body Works Lemon Body Lotion belong to.


I’ll do some investigating and keep you informed.


2 thoughts on “smackdown(lite): bottle of krug and a tube of body lotion

    • He does look like a man who would have lemon scented skin. And that hair has to have SOMETHING to keep it standing up. Good deduction. The investigation continues.

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