Traditional wrestling cowardice involves hitting a competitor while he or she is down or getting THE DAMN NUMBERS GAME (text note to JBL on that one). There were plenty of apparent examples of the kind of old news, classic yellow-streaked cheapshottery. For example, Mark Henry's attack on John Cena was abundantly pointed out as being a cowardly move. I didn't see it that way. Cena offered Henry out. Henry made him flinch (he owes Cena six punches now, all of which I'm sure he'll gladly repay at Money in the Bank). Cena bowed up again, and then Henry picked his spot.
Sure, it was when Cena wasn't ready, but again, WWE is dictated by the Law of the Jungle here. Cena was ready to bow up. He shouldn't have expected Henry to play by his rules just because he's John Cena, who may not be Darren Rovell's favorite wrestler but certainly is his favorite wrestling brand. But okay, I see why a babyface announcer would decry that as a heel move (I know, I know, Michael Cole, whatever, it's just convenient).
There was the Wyatt Family's debut. Oh man, what a glorious debut it was. The preceding vignettes had all the creep factor of the pre-produced segments that aired weeks prior, only intensified. Think of taking all four truly surreal and haunting minutes of the Blair Witch Project distilled down and shed of all the boring walking-in-the-woods exposition. Then the Fangoria-approved entrance with the lantern and the rocking chair. It all led to something, and it turns out, that something was the equivalent going up to the biggest dude in the prison yard and rocking his jaw with a hard right cross. Only in this instance, big was weird, and that prison was the WWE ring.
Regardless of how well the moment played out, and it did, it was a textbook example of classic wrestling cowardice. Luke Harper and Erick Rowan chose to forgo even the traditional 2-on-1 attack, buttressing their sneak attack with the cover of dark. This isn't a criticism at all. It's great storytelling, and random and amplified "Husky Harris" chants aside, it was the second best possible entrance that the new bearers of Southern Grotesque could hope for into the bigs.
Their best possible entrance may have precluded what turned out to be the truest form of cowardice on the show. Had the Wyatts turned their attention on the decadent, oblivious McMahon family power circus, maybe they would have been able to right an injustice. Then again, that's more the bag of The Shield. Remember them? Of course you do. Believe in The Shield, no matter who else comes along to challenge them.
But no, attacking someone from behind is cowardice depending on context, sure. But forgoing a hard decision just to let the vox populi decide is the purest form of yellow-bellied aversion to responsibility, duty, and honor anyone could make. It's not surprising that Stephanie McMahon was the one of the least moral fiber to make that call. Why should she have conviction, especially regarding a fellow woman? The esteemed Ari Amaru said it best on Twitter tonight. Women aren't the other side in the battle against the patriarchy. They're the ball.
Still, the sheer act of letting the WWE Universe decide what was right was the biggest moral failing of this triumvirate. Of course, the people were going to make this easy on them. Vickie Guerrero's entire existence up until the last year or so of vacillation has been to troll them. The right decision though is not the popular decision. Even Vince, whose tears for the widow of the man used to promote the return of Rob van Dam earlier in the night were quickly exposed as the crocodile variety when his jacket got mussed up, threw only half-hearted support. It almost seemed patronizing. He too took the coward's route by only chastising the crowd AFTER he let the opportunity pass to overturn their decision. I mean, Trips said it best. He's the Chairman. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted to do.
It was that moment that crystallized true cowardice on Monday Night RAW. The McMahon-Levesque trio turned their tails and showed their yellowness in far more intense of a palette than Henry or even the Wyatt Family ever did. Yet in the narrative, the real cowards aren't pointed out. Maybe the perfect response to all of it came from Ryback, the insatiable eating machine who grew feelings and somehow became a bad person because of it. He's quietly become the best character on the show, and he reinforced that through a hug, a simple show of humanity. He's the Gray Hulk. That he's the villain speaks so much about WWE's value system that maybe it pays to be fans of the heels.
Sure, it was when Cena wasn't ready, but again, WWE is dictated by the Law of the Jungle here. Cena was ready to bow up. He shouldn't have expected Henry to play by his rules just because he's John Cena, who may not be Darren Rovell's favorite wrestler but certainly is his favorite wrestling brand. But okay, I see why a babyface announcer would decry that as a heel move (I know, I know, Michael Cole, whatever, it's just convenient).
There was the Wyatt Family's debut. Oh man, what a glorious debut it was. The preceding vignettes had all the creep factor of the pre-produced segments that aired weeks prior, only intensified. Think of taking all four truly surreal and haunting minutes of the Blair Witch Project distilled down and shed of all the boring walking-in-the-woods exposition. Then the Fangoria-approved entrance with the lantern and the rocking chair. It all led to something, and it turns out, that something was the equivalent going up to the biggest dude in the prison yard and rocking his jaw with a hard right cross. Only in this instance, big was weird, and that prison was the WWE ring.
Regardless of how well the moment played out, and it did, it was a textbook example of classic wrestling cowardice. Luke Harper and Erick Rowan chose to forgo even the traditional 2-on-1 attack, buttressing their sneak attack with the cover of dark. This isn't a criticism at all. It's great storytelling, and random and amplified "Husky Harris" chants aside, it was the second best possible entrance that the new bearers of Southern Grotesque could hope for into the bigs.
Their best possible entrance may have precluded what turned out to be the truest form of cowardice on the show. Had the Wyatts turned their attention on the decadent, oblivious McMahon family power circus, maybe they would have been able to right an injustice. Then again, that's more the bag of The Shield. Remember them? Of course you do. Believe in The Shield, no matter who else comes along to challenge them.
But no, attacking someone from behind is cowardice depending on context, sure. But forgoing a hard decision just to let the vox populi decide is the purest form of yellow-bellied aversion to responsibility, duty, and honor anyone could make. It's not surprising that Stephanie McMahon was the one of the least moral fiber to make that call. Why should she have conviction, especially regarding a fellow woman? The esteemed Ari Amaru said it best on Twitter tonight. Women aren't the other side in the battle against the patriarchy. They're the ball.
Still, the sheer act of letting the WWE Universe decide what was right was the biggest moral failing of this triumvirate. Of course, the people were going to make this easy on them. Vickie Guerrero's entire existence up until the last year or so of vacillation has been to troll them. The right decision though is not the popular decision. Even Vince, whose tears for the widow of the man used to promote the return of Rob van Dam earlier in the night were quickly exposed as the crocodile variety when his jacket got mussed up, threw only half-hearted support. It almost seemed patronizing. He too took the coward's route by only chastising the crowd AFTER he let the opportunity pass to overturn their decision. I mean, Trips said it best. He's the Chairman. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted to do.
It was that moment that crystallized true cowardice on Monday Night RAW. The McMahon-Levesque trio turned their tails and showed their yellowness in far more intense of a palette than Henry or even the Wyatt Family ever did. Yet in the narrative, the real cowards aren't pointed out. Maybe the perfect response to all of it came from Ryback, the insatiable eating machine who grew feelings and somehow became a bad person because of it. He's quietly become the best character on the show, and he reinforced that through a hug, a simple show of humanity. He's the Gray Hulk. That he's the villain speaks so much about WWE's value system that maybe it pays to be fans of the heels.