I’m not even gonna get into the whole “publicly traded company” stuff too much, because I barely understand it myself. But the gist of it is now that OTHER people have money invested in the business that dramatically pits men in underpants against one another.
The President of The Kiss My Ass Club wants that money, so he has to listen to the investors.
If they see ratings go up when John Cena is on the screen, they see more money, so they want to see more John Cena on the screen.
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If they hear about sponsors dropping out because some parents think barbed wire fire matches and an old creepy guy screaming about puppies is inappropriate for children under the age of 13, then the investors are gonna want to see change.
It’s why we ended up in the PG Era after a very successful Attitude Era. WWE was growing fast, but so were the eyes of the helicopter parents. So, to become the behemoth company they were striving for, they had to ditch everything that made them so popular.
And it WORKED. The WWE became a global empire and a lot of fans felt betrayed.
Before storylines were started because someone was giving a backstage interview about how rad they are at wrestling when another wrestler wandered into the shot looking for Craft Services and attacked the interviewee for not being a tuna salad sandwich, resulting in a blood feud, creative wasn’t that much better at telling stories.
Rubber hand births and coffin-riding antics were rampant. There has never been a “Perfect Era.” Too many people have awful hindsight, and not enough people see the good that’s currently in front of them.
The WWE fan complaints may have gone up but so has Vince’s bank account, and that’s the bottom line. I know I’m gonna keep giving them 10$ a month and I’m gonna keep buying Enzo Amore and Kevin Owens merch, and they know that, too.
The difference is they don’t care about me, and they care about me even less if I don’t have kids. They do know that if they dangle a cigarette, I mean carrot, in front of me with the promise of the possibilty of good wrestling and well thought out narratives, I’ll stick around.
I don’t need crimson masks and g-strings to keep me interested, I can find that stuff pretty easily at the corner bodega, or the internet. I want incredibly well-done video packages and top notch wrestling and the promise, or at least hope, for something new and exciting.
WWE still has the tools to do that, whether you want to admit that or not.
So If you’re waiting for The Return Of Hardcore, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news. Unless you’re willing to give Vinnie Mac TWO billion dollars, nothin’s changin’, bub.
Plus, those new Owens sunglasses are dope as hell.
