The Goodness 05.09.07: Seven Year Itch
Posted by on 05.09.2007
The spring of 2000 was the absolute apex of my wrestling fandom as the energy of the wrestling world consumed me. This spring? I have been overwhelmed by the force of indifference.
I apologize for my absence the past couple of weeks. As I've mentioned before, I'm a reporter and a couple of reporters left, leaving us short-staffed. Then, because the big guy upstairs has a miserable sense of humor, an airplane crashed in the town I cover. The odds of that happening were actually incalculable because it had never happened in 300 years. Of course, it happens when we're short-staffed so I ended up pulling 12-hour days and generally hating life. Last week, I forgot what happened. I was just busy and didn't get a column off. Hope y'all aren't too mad.
And before we get to the column, I have to sing the praises of WWE 24/7 On Demand as many others have. It is the most amazing, spectacular, glorious channel for any wrestling geek, especially one like me. I watched a two-hour show from the L.A. Sports Arena in 1988 that was just superb. Total, classic, old-school WWF that was run on some local cable channel back in the day. There was a 20-minute match between Tito Santana and Greg Valentine that I swear hit ****. It was so good that, after about 15 minutes, I actually started marking out for Tito and hoped he got the win. That's the beauty of these old cards, especially the non-pay-per-view shows, I have no idea what's going to happen. If I watch SummerSlam 1988, I know the results. This Santana/Valentine classic? Not a clue. I'm serious, I marked out for a match that is 20 years old and I loved it. If you have the ability the purchase this and the $8 a month to pay for it, do so now. RIGHT NOW!
The Goodness 05.09.07: Seven Year Itch
On Friday night, I spent my evening at a block party in good ol' Hartford, Connecticut, celebrating the true arrival of spring and the birthdays of two of my closest friends. The night was a good one, to say the least, and I ended up drinking more tequila than one person should. That's not the point, though. The point is how at one point the conversation turned to pro wrestling. This happens so infrequently that when it does, well, I remember it. It's one of the few things I do remember from the night. But we weren't talking about anything that is going on with today's WWE. No mention of John Cena, Shawn Michaels or Mr. Kennedy. No, we discussed the Rock. We talked about how great he was. My friends, no longer fans of wrestling, talked about how it was the Rock that got them to go to a Raw at the Hartford Civic Center. It was a timely conversation because it was seven years ago this spring that my wrestling fandom hit its apex.
There were two events in April and May of 2000 that sparked my interest. One we'll get to in a little bit, but the other is just as important and was one of the few times I was actually interested in WCW. For a couple weeks in April 2000, WCW went dark. After running through three or four booking regimes in the span of a few months, ratings had slipped, the WWF had far surpassed its competition and something needed to be done. WCW decided to completely shut down and rebuild with Eric Bischoff and Vince Russo working together. Their first show back, I was completely glued to the screen (watching the late-night replay, of course, because I wasn't missing Raw). It was interesting. It was exciting.
There was an energy about the rebirth of WCW. It ultimately failed with no new true superstars being created, though people like Ms. Hancock and Lance Storm got over and were interesting, there wasn't enough to stop the WWF's machine at that point. But WCW was at the very least trying to become a competitor to the WWF. The spring of 2000 was the absolute, very last time that anyone checked the Monday night ratings on Tuesday morning to see what the status was. It was the last time the Monday Night Wars had any sort of validity. It was also the last time that a Monday night had that energy that was so prevalent in the late 1990's.
For all the talk about how the lack of competition hurts the WWE, nothing is more obvious than the lack of energy found on Monday nights. For every wrestling fan, when Monday night rolled around, you had to be in front of television sets. Even if WCW sucked at the time, even if the WWF was going through a rough patch, you felt like you had to watch because you didn't know. And, there was the fact that for three hours on two networks, you were going to see all the best in the wrestling business. The live crowds felt. The ratings showed it. Monday night was for wrestling and wrestling alone. Today, it doesn't feel the same. There's no urgency on Raw to provide the viewer with anything spectacular, anything that blows you away, because they don't have to. They can fall into a predictable booking pattern and there are no ramifications. They're going to get a 4 rating each week with little change. They ramp it up before WrestleMania, make a killing, then cruise. That's what it is.
As depressing as that is, it doesn't match the depression that comes when thinking about the other event in the spring of 2000 that doubles as one of the best moments in my life. No, not just in my wrestling fan life, but my life, period. I went to Backlash 2000 in Washington, D.C. and it was one of the best wrestling shows I had ever seen, but to see it in person? I cannot even describe the energy that was in the building that night. I went to college in DC and I saw a lot of events at the former MCI Center. I was there for some of Michael Jordan's comeback games. I saw UConn beat Georgetown in basketball in 2002. I was there for an NCAA Tournament first-round with eventual champion Maryland in the house. I saw my school George Washington beat our former coach and St. John's. I saw a couple of Washington Capitals playoff hockey game. Heck, I saw some bands and even the circus. Nothing, and I mean nothing, compared to the sound that crowd made for the main event.
It was all so beautifully structure that you could almost see the WWF's booking committee pulling the strings of the fans. It was the Rock vs. Triple H for the title, in a WrestleMania rematch. The McMahons, all three of them save Linda, were backing Triple H and Steve Austin was supposed to be in Rocky's corner. He wasn't there though. You knew what was coming but it didn't lessen it a bit. The Rock took the early advantage, complete with giving Shane and Hunter a Rock Bottom through a table at the same time. The place was at a fever pitch and we hadn't come close to the climax yet. Of course, the McMahons and Hunter get the advantage. Of course, we thought Rocky was done for. Of course, we chanted for Austin.
Then the glass broke.
As I told this story to my friends Friday night, I could see their markishness, buried deep within, was bubbling. "What happened?" "What was it like?" I'm a writer but it's tough to describe the wall of noise that greeted Austin's arrival. You couldn't hear anything, my ears popped and it was just one, constant note of sound. People around the building were screaming. Having watched the show on tape, the large arena muted the sound and it didn't come across. The phrase "people were losing their minds" was never more apt. When Austin hit the McMahons with a chair, I truly thought the teenagers in front of me were going to pass out. When the Rock won the title, I high-fived people I didn't know like when I got to a Mets game and they hit a home run. We were all in this together. We all came to watch the Rock win the title and, gosh darnit, he did it! The crowd stood, screamed, jumped, threw up their arms and celebrate for at least 15 minutes as Austin & Rocky shared a beer in the ring. I had taken my girlfriend (to avoid have to choose which of my fraternity brothers to take and she dug Rocky) and we didn't mess with a cab or the Metro. We walked the 15 blocks back to our dorm. Why? Why not? It was a beautiful spring evening and we were still juiced from the show.
You see, that's the beauty of pro wrestling and why people that don't watch will never understand. It's the same feeling you get after you leave a great game or you just walked out of, say, Gladiator and thought it was the best movie you've ever seen. It was a ride for three hours. Never once did I think, gee the workrate is slow tonight or, man, Scotty 2 Hotty just botched a move, or I wonder when the booking's going to kick in. I was lost in the emotion of the show. In the spring of 2000, with the WWF on the hottest roll it's ever been on in terms of quality, it was like that every Monday night. I still recall watch a Rock/Benoit Steel Cage match with three of my friends and being so enraptured that I passed up sex with my girlfriend until 11:06 p.m. Shockingly, she wasn't so into me at 11:06, so I ended up falling asleep watching Nitro until 1 a.m. And you know what? It was fine.
As I watched Raw last night, the same thought I just typed came into my head. I laughed. Why? Because I would never pass up sex for today's Raw. The Great Khali lumbering around as a challenger? John Cena desperately trying to channel the Rock by throwing jokes into his interviews and turning out to be a cheap impression act that has long grown stale? Bobby Lashley? Really? Every Raw feels like the Raw I watched last week, with the exceptions being the two shows in Europe that had super hot crowds that provided an energy missing from most shows these days. I don't blame the fans for not being enthused, I don't blame myself for not being the same crazy fanboy I was seven years ago but it's not our fault. The onus is on the WWF to entertain us.
I'm a writer so I respect great reporting and writer. There is one line from a SportsIllustrated article from 14 years ago that still rings in my head. It was on the NFL, how it had fallen on hard times and how the product just wasn't that appealing. There was one fantastic game, the Thanksgiving game in the snow between the Dolphins and the Cowboys that was generally loved. The article concluded, "Give us Miami and Dallas in the snow once a week, not once a year."
I loved Cena/Michaels from two weeks ago. I loved that show. The last two weeks? Not so much. Vince McMahon, give me Cena/Michaels once a week, not once a year.
