You can find him in the dictionary under DUDE, THAT Screen grab via ProWresBlog |
Sami Zayn had just been thrown in the air and turned it into a dropkick. Jack Swagger bailed to the outside after it hit, and looked to Zebbie C for solitude and hung onto him.
That's when it happened.
"Swagger's got accolades all day--it doesn't matter here on NXT, this is Sami Zayn's house!"
In the immortal words of two brilliant DCers, whoomp, there it is. The B-team announcers already know it, just like the fans, the brass, The Lovely Renee Young, and even Jack Swagger himself: he'd get out of the way of an attempted dive only for Sami to split-legged Arabian himself against the top rope into a backflip onto his feet into his trademark pose on one knee replete with Mutumbo no-no-no-not-in-my-house finger wave in a five-second display of athleticsm and ability that can only be summed up by words of the four-letter varietal in admiration. One for the Flying Spaghetti Monster, one for the expulsion of food, one for intercourse, any and all combinations thereof. Everybody in the arena lost it, breaking out into the Ole! singalong as I replayed it so much you'd think I'd turned into Sean Kingston.
Sami Zayn, in under 10 matches down Florida way, IS the WWE's future. Full Sail is his house.
Granted, he is not the entirety of the establishment. Corey Graves won and got his belt back in the progress. Summer Rae keeps speaking evil to power in Sasha Banks' ears right before the biggest match of her life where Paige is more than willing, eager really, to treat her like every other loser who's stepped in her malevolent way. Alexander Rusev's picked up his first win, Leo Kruger's jumped Xavier Woods because he's South African (?), and Bayley's figured out how to turn a hug into a belly to belly suplex.
But make no mistake about it, El Generico's biggest fan is sucking up the oxygen in NXT's room. Two mere shows after his MOTYC candidate against Antonio Cesaro he put on another "oh man why haven't they called him up yet wait if they call him up I don't get more awesomeness like this I CAN'T CHOOSE" destination viewing main event against Jack Swagger. Swagger, who you may remember in the past few weeks for losing to Daniel Bryan in something like negative four seconds before Cesaro came out and he and D-Bry put on the possible WWE TV match of the summer? He looked worthy of the last name for a change and as fluid and mean-spirited as he's ever been in the ring.
This is not a coincidence.
There's a reason the announcers sound like Clippers talking heads watching Blake Griffin, scrambling over the cliff by openenly rooting for one guy and getting back to land by stating they just don't want the match to end. The same reason that chants start before any actual wrestling starts and then you get ten to twenty minutes of pay-per-view worthy wrestling from the same man who's probably going to end up in the top three when the TWB 2013 Wrestler of the Year ballots come a-calling in a few short months.
From early leg lariat to sunset flip powerbomb off the top and everything in the middle, Sami Zayn could've broken a puppy's neck and everybody would've looked at each other and agreed that said puppy was definitely strapped to the gills with explosives and his tail was wagging in the direction of the Statue of Liberty. Contrast that to Bo Dallas, who merely showed up after the sunset bomb failed to finish off Jack Swagger and immediately got a tsunami of black rain from the crowd. He didn't actually do anything. Well, anything, that is but provide a Wholly Accidental Opening for Swagger to reclamp on the Patriot Lock and win the match with it this time. That didn't matter in the long run, as Zayn has gone against two decorated WWE supe--former champions, and in this case a former World Champion, and proven that his sky is limitless. Seriously, Bo might as well be wearing wristbands and hitting elevated fireman's carries; Sami's already got the independent pedigree and the Sailers (I'm working on it, be nice) crowd going yes when they aren't muttering profanities or raving exhortations.
About the only thing that can save Bo at this rate is the siren song of the main roster for his frenemy. Guaranteed, the longer he's in Florida, the more likely the lifespan of his title reign goes down to zero.
A championship belt, huh?
I bet those look nice on the mantle of any house.
That's when it happened.
"Swagger's got accolades all day--it doesn't matter here on NXT, this is Sami Zayn's house!"
In the immortal words of two brilliant DCers, whoomp, there it is. The B-team announcers already know it, just like the fans, the brass, The Lovely Renee Young, and even Jack Swagger himself: he'd get out of the way of an attempted dive only for Sami to split-legged Arabian himself against the top rope into a backflip onto his feet into his trademark pose on one knee replete with Mutumbo no-no-no-not-in-my-house finger wave in a five-second display of athleticsm and ability that can only be summed up by words of the four-letter varietal in admiration. One for the Flying Spaghetti Monster, one for the expulsion of food, one for intercourse, any and all combinations thereof. Everybody in the arena lost it, breaking out into the Ole! singalong as I replayed it so much you'd think I'd turned into Sean Kingston.
Sami Zayn, in under 10 matches down Florida way, IS the WWE's future. Full Sail is his house.
Granted, he is not the entirety of the establishment. Corey Graves won and got his belt back in the progress. Summer Rae keeps speaking evil to power in Sasha Banks' ears right before the biggest match of her life where Paige is more than willing, eager really, to treat her like every other loser who's stepped in her malevolent way. Alexander Rusev's picked up his first win, Leo Kruger's jumped Xavier Woods because he's South African (?), and Bayley's figured out how to turn a hug into a belly to belly suplex.
But make no mistake about it, El Generico's biggest fan is sucking up the oxygen in NXT's room. Two mere shows after his MOTYC candidate against Antonio Cesaro he put on another "oh man why haven't they called him up yet wait if they call him up I don't get more awesomeness like this I CAN'T CHOOSE" destination viewing main event against Jack Swagger. Swagger, who you may remember in the past few weeks for losing to Daniel Bryan in something like negative four seconds before Cesaro came out and he and D-Bry put on the possible WWE TV match of the summer? He looked worthy of the last name for a change and as fluid and mean-spirited as he's ever been in the ring.
This is not a coincidence.
There's a reason the announcers sound like Clippers talking heads watching Blake Griffin, scrambling over the cliff by openenly rooting for one guy and getting back to land by stating they just don't want the match to end. The same reason that chants start before any actual wrestling starts and then you get ten to twenty minutes of pay-per-view worthy wrestling from the same man who's probably going to end up in the top three when the TWB 2013 Wrestler of the Year ballots come a-calling in a few short months.
From early leg lariat to sunset flip powerbomb off the top and everything in the middle, Sami Zayn could've broken a puppy's neck and everybody would've looked at each other and agreed that said puppy was definitely strapped to the gills with explosives and his tail was wagging in the direction of the Statue of Liberty. Contrast that to Bo Dallas, who merely showed up after the sunset bomb failed to finish off Jack Swagger and immediately got a tsunami of black rain from the crowd. He didn't actually do anything. Well, anything, that is but provide a Wholly Accidental Opening for Swagger to reclamp on the Patriot Lock and win the match with it this time. That didn't matter in the long run, as Zayn has gone against two decorated WWE supe--former champions, and in this case a former World Champion, and proven that his sky is limitless. Seriously, Bo might as well be wearing wristbands and hitting elevated fireman's carries; Sami's already got the independent pedigree and the Sailers (I'm working on it, be nice) crowd going yes when they aren't muttering profanities or raving exhortations.
About the only thing that can save Bo at this rate is the siren song of the main roster for his frenemy. Guaranteed, the longer he's in Florida, the more likely the lifespan of his title reign goes down to zero.
A championship belt, huh?
I bet those look nice on the mantle of any house.