Irrational Behaviour: John Morrison and the Superstars Who Fail To Shine
One of the great truths of life I've learned, along with never wear tie dye and farts might not be silent if you have your iPod on, is this: Getting a reaction of any kind is better than no reaction at all.
This is probably especially true of the Wrestling profession, (the reaction part that is, not the farting thing), where a silent crowd will very quickly lead to a performer being "future endeavoured."
Even wrestlers who are deemed to be "over" however, can't hope to convince every single individual of their worth. In wrestling, as in life, there will always be someone who doesn't like you.
Wrestling fans, like all people, are fickle and irrational. We're very unfair and opinionated. We bare grudges, maintain first impressions despite subsequent evidence, and myself excluded, sometimes dress very badly.
Apart from adopting Mick Foley as a style icon, I am all of the above. There are some wrestlers who will probably never win me over.
I'm not talking about the obviously brutally horrible. We all know guys like Great Khali and Giant Gonzalez have nothing to offer a wrestling fan unless the wrestling fan wanted something from a really, really high shelf.
This article is about those performers who I, for possibly very irrational reasons, just don't get.
There seem to be two schools of thought on Ron Killings. The first, generally held by those under 14, is that the former Pretty Ricky is cooler than a Megan Fox figurine.
I tend to follow the second school, regarding the deluded Coolio wannabe as cheesier than a bag of extra tangy cheese Doritos with 20 percent extra cheese.
Killings can wrestle, but for me, his work is just too theatrical. I think when I watch him in the ring I start to lose the illusion that wrestling isn't "fake."
Listening to him rap, I also start to lose the will to live. His style is decently innovative but—and perhaps this is unfair—isn't every match of his the same formula, endlessly repeated?
To paraphrase Edge: "R-Truth. He only knows one song but he sings it oh-so-well."
MVP suffers from the same affliction that I believe blighted the career of Sean O'Haire. O'Haire, a decent performer, would generally successfully hit a move—let's say a scoop powerslam—and then proceed to celebrate that move for the next six to eight minutes. These reactions made fluent matches something of a mystery for Mr. O'Haire.
MVP definitely doesn't have quite as severe a case, but the Ballin' Elbow is still probably the second most irritating move ever after Scotty 2 Hotty's Worm.
Sporting a finisher in the Masterlock that sounds like something you'd type into Google if you had an interest in gay pornography, Chris Masters is the wrestler most likely to induce me into a coma.
I've read recently that he's apparently improved in the ring, but I'm just amazed he's still employed by the company. Arguably he shouldn't even be in this list as dislike of Chris Masters can surely only be rational. My defense? I can't resist the chance to take a shot at him.
Yes, he is an awesome performer in the ring with unique and amazingly athletic moves but perhaps there's just something too clinical about his delivery. Jeff Hardy, as a comparison, is certainly a far more ragged performer, more prone to botches but is at the same time infinitely more watchable.
I also have problems with Morrison's presentation. I know the idea is for a rock star appearance but does the rock star really have to be Elton John? At least when Mick Foley dresses badly it springs from a lack of interest in fashion.
I also think the rock star gimmick vanishes into dust the moment Morrison opens his mouth. There's nothing inherently wrong with being "boring"—Lance Storm turned it into a virtue—but it becomes a problem when it jars so obviously with the image.
Rock Stars, with the exception of Bono, are not usually so dull that you want to put your head underwater just so you can no longer hear them. Morrison delivers promos with all the passion and charisma of a pre-recorded airport safety address.
Finally, I'm not even sure he has a good physical look. He's actually too handsome, too chiseled. John Morrison is statuesque but mainly in the sense of being lifeless.
David Hart Smith
David Hart Smith is pretty solid in the ring, but he always seems to wear the expression of a man who's just sat on something sharp but is far too polite to mention it.
It will obviously be an awkward conversation, but someone in management ought to talk to him about it.
I ought to like the Big Show. He's been around forever, has been involved in classic matches and is capable of entertaining. Yet for his character, I simply do not care.
His size doesn't compensate his slow and lethargic approach in the ring, and while he's adequate as both face and heel, in neither role does he excel.
Like his novelty Wrestlemania matches involving Boxing or Sumo, the Big Show represents to me nothing more than a bathroom break opportunity, and (insert your Big Show on the toilet joke here).
All of the above—excluding Masters—are good, solid mid-card wrestlers with something to offer WWE.
I'd be happy to hear ideas as to why they might be more and might be accepting of the idea that my arguments might be flawed. The fact for me remains this my bottom line, the aforementioned Stars simply do not shine.*
Comments are always welcome. I would be really interested to hear for which Wrestlers people have a semi-irrational dislike..
*Abysmal rhyme inspired by and dedicated to R-Truth.
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