SS56—Mat This ‘n’ That/I’m Back, Jack

To the tearful dismay of the masses, it’s been quite some time since Wrestling’s Only Unbiased Columnist posted a fresh Stately States.  Rejoice, girls and buoys, I have returned, to once again be The Rage Of The Digital Page.

I was going to continue last column’s theme, explaining how self-described “REAL Wrestling Fans” are less useful than sunscreen on a scuba diver, and such imbeciles they think a salad bar is where lettuce goes to get drunk and fishcake is what they serve on birthdays at Sea World.

But since there’s so much to cover, I’m going to opt for something I used to do in my Power Slam column, stringing together brief thoughts on recent developments.

For the unaware, PS was published in England from 1994 to 2014, I being the only member of the writing staff onboard for the full 20 years, penning Manor’s Mat Musings.   This is not to be confused with the newish UK mag wherein Mat Musings was STOLEN, its far-inferior author and gutless publisher rudely ignoring my inquiries about the blatant rip-off—twice.

Musings logo MINE

Accept no substitutes.

First, a quick quiz:

Who are The. Worst. Fans. Ever?  You make the call.

A.  Doesn’t live-tweet a single sporting event the rest of the week but will do so when a certain wrestling show is in progress to “subtly” prove he’s not watching it.

B,  Constantly opines “The WWE’s current product is abysmal,” brings it up daily, then one day casually notes “I haven’t watched it in ten years.”  (Probably lying, anyway.) 

C,  The malcontent who rips on WWE non-stop but has a podcast or YouTube show solely dependent upon viewing content on—where else?—the WWE Network.

Now, onto the ramblings.

If Chris Jericho came down the aisle with Ralphus now, could anyone tell them apart?  Defeating Jerko in that champagne pool match has done wonders for Orange Julius, er, Cassidy.  Now when they say “He sells a lot of T-shirts,” it means he’s working at the merch table….Where are all the “Ronda didn’t pay any dues” moaners when it comes to Dominik Mysterio?  I’m waiting for Rey’s daughter to begin wrestling so I can claim “She moves in Mysterio ways.”  Because I’m a freaking genius….The makeover has exposed that Ruby is much hotter than Sasha WHO IS MARRIED AND WILL NEVER GET WITH YOU, SO QUIT DROOLING OVER HER, LOSER….Must be exciting being a fresh team in AEW.  You get the biggest hype imaginable, for four straight weeks—before losing to the Bucks and getting relegated to midcard limbo.  Which has happened to EVERY SINGLE TEAM.

Let me see if I have all this straight.  Certain championship matches every few months require a contract signing but all the other matches don’t.  Those in certain sensitive circles get upset when someone uses “IWC” to describe them.  All the while calling themselves the Wrestling Community.  Which is what the “WC” in “IWC” represents.  Tony Khan’d playing a rich creep on “purchased” Impact time does not contradict the whole “He will never play a character on television” because it’s on Impact rather than Dynamite.  And people gleefully paid to see Joey Ryan have others fondle his junk (and encouraged more of such antics) yet allegedly never suspected the man is a little odd.  Enablers turned virtue signalers sure like to play dumb.

face palm MONTAGE VVVG

Isn’t it odd how Zelina Vega never expressed a single care about a wrestlers’ union until she got fired?  Weird coincidence, huh?…It says a lot about fraud Josh Matthews when being replaced by Matt Striker is considered an upgrade…. Reby Hardy has many important connections.  Perhaps one day she’ll introduce Matt to hair conditioner….I hear Shayna Baszler is determined to lick every woman in the WWE locker room.  Even if it means hopping on them in the showers!  Some aren’t going to take that lying down….Did you know, on Halloween 2019, Micro Stunt trick-or-treated in a suit of armor, but people kept mistaking him for a fire hydrant?…Unconfirmed, but I’m hearing reports that there was one 24-hour period in which Jim Ross didn’t release a public statement concerning the opinion or history of Jim Ross….Gary Heltz of Pine Bluff, Arkansas, will be missing 205 Live next week.  There goes half their viewership.

All these weeks with Smackdown not having a live audience.  A shame they didn’t also go without a live color commentator….Ever notice Tom Phillips has the same initials as “toilet paper”?  That may be why Samoa Joe told me Phillips is an asswipe….The Grizzled Young Veterans keep the company’s streak going—the streak of Worst Ring Names Ever.  Empress Of Tomorrow, Forgotten Sons, Genius Of The Sky, Archer Of Infamy, Authors Of Pain:  Will whichever comic-book nerd who came up with this dross please explain to me how an era can be “undisputed”?… Mia Jax yells “My hole,” and is instantly transformed into the darling of the IWC—who had ripped her mercilessly since about nine minutes after her debut.  Then again, for 83 percent of those gits, it was the first—and last—time they ever heard a woman reference an orifice below the waist….”Elimination Chamber” sounds like something NASA came up with to name a space station toilet.

If you’re wondering where Jimmy Uso has been, he’s opened a driving school with Jeff Hardy and Nick Hogan.  Putting the “high” in “highway”….I’m delighted to see Naomi’s back.  She looks great from that angle….Hearing rumors about an all- Lana-fan cable channel.  Instead of “television,” it’s going to be called “Incelevision”….Taz’s “wearing shades inside” thing is really cool—if it’s 1967 and you’re the lead singer of Steppenwolf….I am looking forward to the Impact episode in which Tommy Dreamer performs a teary retirement speech.  I bet it will be better than the 47 he’s done before.

Okay, that’s enough.

If you love this column, signify by purchasing two cups at https://ko-fi.com/manormania

If you hate this column, signify by purchasing three cups at https://ko-fi.com/manormania

…although you’re probably too cheap to do either.

SS55–The Outsiders’ Guide To REAL Wrestling Fans

It goes without saying that those who don’t follow professional wrestling are very contrite about this shortcoming and wish to apologize to me personally.  Nonetheless, the chances are you know someone you’d describe as a “real wrestling fan.”  But do you know a “REAL wrestling fan”?

What’s the difference between someone who’s a dedicated enthusiast and a self-described “REAL wrestling fan” besides the latter’s choice to capitalize the first word for accentuation on it (and an unwarranted feeling of superiority)?  That just happens to be the topic for this particular column.  I’ll be using the abbreviation RWF frequently, primarily because I’m lazy.  Er, I mean so as to not eat up so much column space.

 

RWF is the only segment of fandom wherein the member’s neck size matches his SAT scores.  With an aroma resembling a skunk that was run over outside a sulfur factory explosion, these moralists regularly look down their freshly picked noses at those who merely watch a television program or attend an event to be—GASP!–entertained.

So what, if under two million Americans watch the most popular wrestling TV show?  That’s practically everyone in the world, because wrestling is really important in the grand scheme of things—which, in turn, makes REAL fans important.  This is the bubble RWFs live in. Among other delusional doozies, these sad sacks think they represent the majority of the mat sport’s fan base rather than the “casual” fans they despise.  (Not even close.)  And believe they have great influence over the wrestling offices’ decisions.  (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—not to mention HA.)

You’d have a better chance of winning the national lottery by choosing numbers via a blindfolded pigeon tap-dancing on a solar calculator than one of these “experts” actually getting something right.  Yet they persist, unfazed over batting .000 for life.

I would rather take fashion advice from Guy Fieri while snorting a line of his earwax dunked in year-old cream than pay the slightest bit of attention to the RWFs endless sanctimonious yattering.

First off, let’s take a look at the standard RWF—quite literally.  On the average, these are beefy lads and lasses; and, it is reasonable for an outsider to wonder if the devotees have ever tried their hand at the sport.  This is how a typical conversation goes.

RWF:  Wrestling is my LIFE.

SWM:  Really?  How many matches have you been in?

RWF:  None.

SWM:  Okay, then where are you training to become a wrestler?

RWF:  Nowhere.

SWM:  Why not?

RWF:  I’m a pussy afraid of pain.

SWM:  Then why not train to be a ref?  They rarely bump.

RWF:  Well, um….

SWM:  Ring announcers take no bumps.

RWF:  Yeah, but….

SWM:  Have you ever approached your local indie promoter and volunteered to do anything, such as set up the ring or the folding chairs?

RWF:  No, but….

[Let the record show the author is a 5’8” middleweight but has participated in matches, including being on the receiving end of contact and knocked to the ground.  Because he’s not a windbag coward.]

 

The standard RWF is not only a business and television programming expert (despite having no experience in either) but is also a master of in-ring technique. After all, he has watched thousands of matches on TV.

Fortunately for the rest of us novices, these enlightened souls generously share their knowledge. A common social media occurrence is the posting of a brief video clip showcasing a move that went horribly wrong and/or appeared to be very painful.  Fulfilling his duty as an educator to the masses, the RWF will reply with an explanation along the lines of “He should have tucked his chin on the way down,” even if the person posting—and I swear I’m not making this up, folks—is a veteran professional wrestler.

It’s a shame Jimi Hendrix isn’t still alive.  Although never having held a guitar themselves, these same nincompoops could advise him on how to correctly play a C-chord.

Yes, the standard RWF is so oblivious, he doesn’t even grasp how ridiculous he comes off, and will continue to make a public fool of himself for eternity.

But don’t you dare laugh at them!

Oh, yeah, it’s all fun and games when a wrestler or company on their official Hate List gets knocked.  But call out the RWFs with a very valid comment, and it’s a one-way ticket to Sulk City.  “Boohoohoo, our skin is thinner than a butterfly wing.  Just for that, we’re not voting for you in our self-aggrandizing annual polls, the results of which are unseen by anyone in the industry.

“You should be more like _____, who dutifully tells us exactly what we want to hear, we being far too thick to recognize we’re being conned.”

You may think Swifties are overbearing tunnel-visioned dimwits.  And you’d be right.  But they are a flock of 13-year-old girls who have never been kissed.  Other than their ever-expanding waistlines, RWFs are full-grown (chronological) adults—who have also never been kissed.

Stans, regardless of the genre, are pathetic little beings who have to get their thrills vicariously, knowing full well they will never be more than a mosquito squashed on the windshield of life.  REAL Wrestling Fans up the ante by griping over how Favorites A, B and C are not current champs—as in carrying around a championship belt RWFs know is REWARDED as a PRE-DETERMINED result of a STAGED contest no one has ever actually “won.”

To put this into perspective, picture a gaggle of goofuses whining to the USA Network daily and for months because Ice T’s character on Law And Order:  SVU has never been elected mayor of New York City.

REAL Wrestling Fans are not entirely useless, however.  For instance, they could serve as highly effective mulch, if properly buried (meaning alive.)  Or tossed in wood-chippers as test material rather than wasting precious natural resources such as trees and old sneakers.

Polar bears have it tough enough, confined to small zoo pits, in weather dozens of degrees warmer than their natural habitat.  Why not cheer up our furry friends by tossing them a RWF or two for lunch?

Feeding REAL Wrestling Fans to bears is also a money-saving opportunity for zoos.  But how’s this?

Cities are constantly under budget strains and searching for new revenue streams.  Parades, outdoor concerts and the like are always a boon for the local economy, since they boost retail sales, eatery attendance, parking lot use, and other taxed enterprises.

The more spectacular and crowd-pleasing, the higher the attendance.  I say let’s march out some RWFs for good ol’ public beheadings.

What’s their offense?  Why, being a REAL Wrestling Fan is as offensive as it gets!

To Be Continued