Tag: wwe

The WWE fan meet and greet experience brought to you by Cricket Wireless

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Despite being a shitty wrestling fan these days, one of the things that I still like to try to do is meeting wrestling talent, and when possible getting signed 8x10s because one day I’ll have a personal space again where I can frame and hang them, and just in general, getting autographed photos is one of those things that if I don’t get them if the opportunity is there, I’ll inevitably end up regret not doing so later on down the line.

That being said, The Algorithm fed me intel about a free meet and greet that was happening in the Metro Atlanta area, where Alexa Bliss and Penta were going to be appearing at a Cricket Wireless location out in Norcross.  I don’t hide the fact that I am a fan of Alexa Bliss, and I’ve grown to appreciate Penta more and more throughout the years, so I thought to myself that this was one that I was interested in, but probably not likely to do, because of being a dad, as well as the fact that I’d heard that these meet and greet experiences, especially the free ones, typically require fans to arrive in ungodly early amounts of time, in order to ensure not getting cut off.

But then as the weekend approached, grandma took the girls and suddenly I really had nothing stopping me from attempting to brave the experience and see if I could get autographs from a prime Alexa Bliss and Penta.  The idea of waking up in the middle of the night and then have to go wait 5-6 hours didn’t seem at all that appealing at first, but the fact of the matter was that it’s not that I wouldn’t really be able to do what I’d probably have end up doing in the first place, which was dicking around on my phone, being lazy, doing Duolingo, etc.  I would however be forfeiting an extremely rare opportunity to turn the alarms off on my phone and sleep in, but again, going back to the thought of potential regret, I would’ve been disappointed to pass up on Alexa Bliss, and Penta to a degree, in circumstances where I could’ve been available.

So I made the decision to go for it, got an 8x10s of each to try and get signed, and I got my ass up at 3:45 am, with the intention of getting to Norcross as early as possible and hope that I would be far up enough in the line to where I wouldn’t be cut off, and had a chance to get autographs.

I got to the shopping plaza right around 4:30, and I came prepared based on the intel of netizens who have detailed their experiences; lawn chair, a snack, and a water bottle, despite the fact that I really didn’t want to figure out what to do if nature struck over the six hours I had to kill.  From what it looked like, I was unfortunately not early enough to be the front of the line, but it only looked like there were like 40 or so people in advance of me, so I knew I would probably be good enough to stay and wait; my biggest fear was making the trek out there, only to discover the line was already wrapped around the building, and then be immediately defeated, but at least I’d be able to go back to sleep, but I was pleased knowing that I was possibly okay.

Honestly, the waiting wasn’t really that bad.  I did my Duolingo, did my Wordle and Connections and a crossword puzzle on my phone, and caught up on the previous night’s Week 1 College Football scores, feeling disappointment in Virginia Tech for allowing VMI to actually get on the board with a field goal in spite of hanging 70 points on them, and fascination at the masterclass of gaslighting done by the NCAA and Michigan to justify allowing Michigan to get a second, and ultimately successful chance to avoid the upset despite the fact that the clock struck zero but that’s possibly a post for another time.

I made a single-serving friend with the person next to me, whom I figured out the bathroom problem, by offering to get them a Red Bull while I jetted off to the nearby QT to take care of business since we still had like 4 hours to go, and we chatted wrestling and it helped chew up a lot of time.

However, it’s when the sun started to rise and the schedule event time neared did things start to progressively go from dubious, to hairy, to dishearteningly deflating, and frankly this post probably doesn’t happen if everything were as perfectly successful as I’d hope they would be.

When it was the darkness of the 4-5-6 am hour of the morning, the temperature wasn’t bad at all, but once that sun started coming up, the heat started to rise, and the impatience of the constantly growing line started to emerge.  All the while, Cricket employees would at first just be checking in, but the manager of the place would get on the megaphone to go over some of the expected rules of the event.

At first, they pissed off a lot of people by saying that there would only be one autograph per party, so all the people who wanted to get both Alexa and Penta to sign something now had to pick; it was an easy choice for me, and I was at least satisfied knowing that I could still get Alexa’s autograph, since I didn’t know I would really have a shot at it, coming into the event.

Then, they stated that photographs would be limited to a single group picture, meaning no individual pics with Alexa and individuals with Penta.  Presumably also, entire groups had to go in at once, and no family pic, and then pervy dad alone with Alexa pic in the same group.

With each successive announcement, there would be some grumbles, none more than from this one party of like 9 in front of me that brought like the whole fuckin’ family, including the kids and presumably a grandma with a cane, and I often ask myself why I’m such a fan of something that also has such downtrodden rednecks as superfans of it as well but that would be overly judgmental of me.  I had an idea of bringing the girls to meet Alexa with me, with their tag blets, since Alexa is a multi-time holder of those specific blets, but I definitely wouldn’t have wanted them to wait 6-7 hours like I ended up doing, and I’m surprised but not surprised at the families who actually did have their kids do such.

10:30 rolls around, and nobody’s seen any limo or luxury SUVs to indicate that the stars of the appearance were there and ready to go, and as if he knew what everyone was thinking, manager announces to everyone that the talent is “en route,” eliciting more bitching and moaning, specifically from the party of 9 rednecks in front of me.  I’d learned from stories of other Cricket appearances, that talent tardiness does tend to occur fairly regularly, and as disappointing as that is, it’s a free event, that alone right there gives all associated pretty much all the leeway in the world to do whatever the fuck they want to.

Probably around 11 is when two black SUVs arrive, and it’s obvious that the talent has arrived.  But the meet and greet doesn’t happen immediately, and the sun is up and blazing, and people are getting ornery at why things aren’t starting and the line not moving.  Nosier people than me who meandered up to the front to peep inside the store were reporting that Alexa and Penta were doing photos and autographs with the employees first, inciting even more angst from those in line.

And then the shit really hits the fan, when manager announces to the crowd, that neither Alexa or Penta will be doing any autographs, and that it’s just meet and photos only.  Maybe the first 10-15 parties got autographs, and those who were coming out of the store were clearly getting way more than a single article per, and combined with the employees who got to bogart talent time in advance of all the people, now everyone started getting pissed.

Party of 9 were basically screaming NO! NO! and loudly proclaiming their protest at the news of no autographs.  It’s clear they brought the whole family, thinking they would walk away with a Kay-Bee Toys worth of signed crap, and progressively complained more and more throughout the morning about the escalation of policy.

I felt the gut punch of disappointment at the revelation that I wasn’t going to get either of my photos signed, much less from Alexa, and it was agreed that the general mood of the whole event deflated tremendously from everyone in line, many of whom had been waiting as long, if not more than I had at this point, who were going to be going home empty handed.

But again, this was a free event, and nobody asked anyone to wait 6-7 hours for this, and they owed nobody anything, since they were not getting paid.  The manager, exasperated by the sudden rage, hilariously got on his mic to remind everyone that this event was being done by their generosity.

Obviously, seeing as how I’d already burned seven hours, I wasn’t going to leave without at least meeting Alexa and Penta, so I stuck around and got my ten seconds to shake their hands, and get a few rapid-fire shots on my phone as evidence that I did get to meet them.

Also to ask Alexa who her favorite Disney princess was because my daughters wanted to know (they didn’t, but it was a good conversation starter that made her stop and think) – she said Elsa.  

Needless to say, I’m not mad, just disappointed, in the whole experience.  I’m glad I got to meet two talents I like, but like many, I’m extremely disappointed in not being able to have a keepsake in the form of an autograph from it.  I’d rather have had the auto and no photo, than the other way around, but as many have documented these events being, it truly was a cattle call to churn people in and out of line as quick as humanly possible.

Again, as it was a free event, there’s a very low ceiling to how actually mad people are really allowed to be at it, and its rapid-fire changing of policy during it, and as is often the case, I’d frankly rather pay money for a guaranteed meet and autograph, and had Alexa Bliss done a paid appearance in advance of Saturday Sunday Night’s Main Event, I probably would have done it.

I take the whole experience as a valuable educational lesson learned, in the end.  Hearing how they were and experiencing it for myself weren’t far apart, and although it didn’t cost me much in terms of money, it had a massive time cost, to which that time is so precious to me, that I’m not willing to go through with this kind of thing again in the future.

A New Level of disappointment

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

First of all, I’m a big fan of Austin Creed and Kofi, formerly known as Xavier Woods and Kofi Kingston and The New Day.  They are incredible workers, seem like amazingly positive personalities, and in the few lucky interactions I’ve had with Creed at past Dragon-cons, he’s always been chill.

When the WWE basically forced them to quit, I was definitely and immediately on the side of Creed and Kofi, because they were clearly being disrespected, insulted, and getting the rawest of deals.  And I use the accusation that they were forced to quit, because that’s precisely what a company is trying to do to an employee(s) when they demand that they take a paycut allegedly between 50-75%, lest they be released from their contracts and it makes me wonder why the fuck contracts exist if they can be treated like at-will employment, and it continues to feed my general resentment of the whole progression of TKO owning the WWE and how in spite of his horrific history, thinking Vince McMahon still had his superior attributes when it came to running a professional wrestling promotion.

Obviously, everyone knew that they were far from finished as far as their careers were concerned, and that it was not an if, but when, they were going to migrate over to AEW.  There was never any question, no hypothetical going to Japan for a shake, even though Austin Creed is a giant nerdy weeb-type who would probably love it out there, no pulling a Karrion Kross or Matt Cardona and going the route of indies, in case the E would ever want to scoop them back up on a moment’s notice.  They were going to end up in AEW, and the only question was, when?

Well when had arrived, and they were unveiled as Swerve Strickland’s (not-so) mystery partners at their All-In show in London, and as is often times the case for most former E talent who make a splashy arrival in AEW, they immediately were given gold, in the form of winning the AEW Trios Championship.

As is often times the case, I do think the formula is a little overused, trite and a little eye-roll-ey, but at the same time I know these guys are human beings and their livelihoods are partially tied to their on-screen successes, so I’m still happy that they’re given some shots of Nitro upon arrival.

But in spite of my general love for the performers, I can’t help but feel disappointment in the package that they are presented as in AEW, and I’m very curious to know which party had the lion’s share of responsibility for going in the direction they went, between Creed & Kofi and Tony Khan.

“The New Level,” just makes me kind of cringe and disappointment face meme just reading it.  It seems like really low-hanging fruit to swap out a word in their old name, but otherwise keep the general presentation and the brand exactly as their prior iteration.

See, this is why I want to know who was in the driver’s seat when it came to their AEW branding, because it will help me gauge how much I feel like I can criticize, because if this were all Creed and Kofi’s doing, I just feel not mad just disappointed, but if it were primarily at the behest of Tony Khan, it’s I knew it, that fucking money mark dork.

Regardless though, as much AEW wants to (constantly) proclaim that they’re an alternative to the WWE, they sure lean on WWE property when it comes to often times not really changing much about the presentations of former E talents that make the switch.  I get that there’s a small air of deception at trying to hook the less-educated fans that don’t really know the differences in promotions as much as they know of the existence of specific talents, but in this day and age, pro-wrestling fandom is so dedicated by those who follow it, that such a notion doesn’t seem necessary anymore.

I feel as if any time a worker has the opportunity to jump ship, they also have the opportunity to really repackage and restart themselves as performers, and regardless of if it’s AEW to WWE or WWE to AEW, it always seems like a disappointment when they basically end up being the same character, but just under a different name.

Hey, I can (often) be wrong too and sometimes it just works, but there are plenty of characters out there where some degree of change is necessary, it doesn’t happen, and then the same creative walls that handcuffed them in one promotion, just carries over to their new home.

But getting back to The New Level, the fact that such potential change was limited to a single fucking word seems kind of lazy in my opinion, and I feel like someone could have done better, creatively.  Like, if the name weren’t already taken by an eSports franchise, something like Unicorns of Love is just so campy and extra, that I feel like Creed and Kofi could really have some fun with a name like that or similar.  Plus, it keeps the merchandising vein of unicorn shit open to them, and lord knows just how much useless unicorn shit they moved under the E banner.

At the end of the day, it’s just a name, but AEW really relies hard on the grand entrances of incoming talent, because lord knows they have had a tendency to forget about old toys when shiny new ones become available, and although I don’t imagine a lot of former WWE guys mind occasionally getting forgotten in catering, while they enjoy a lesser workload and get paid, some of them never get back on television, save for the occasional too-many-men tag team match.

But as fans of Austin Creed and Kofi the human beings, I want better for them, because I want them to enjoy all the successes they are deserving of, and I look forward to their inevitable clashes against the Young Bucks and Creed’s inevitable showdown with Kenny Omega.

KOREAN JOHN CENA

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Sometimes I have an observation that I want to share with others.  But I sometimes have this anxiety of feeling like I make other people feel like I’m too frequent a social media poster, and I don’t like feeling like I’m the only one in some of my group chats that starts conversations or blurts out random things, and frankly social media is trash and is often times not worthy of the things I have to say, so thank goodness I have a personal brog for me to use as an outlet, even if nobody will ever see it.

But even if it’s just a statement that really doesn’t need much explanation, it then makes me feel like I need to write more words about it to justify making an entire post despite the fact that I have no real rules about what I write on a personal site but that’s just one of those weird self-imposed obligations I hold myself to, but if there’s anything at all, it’s a good exercise to endlessly be practicing my writing.

I just finished watching 참교육 which for all the white folk is Teach You A Lesson on Netflix.  When I first saw it popping up on the home screen, I couldn’t help but notice that the obvious main character of the show (김무열) was a dead ringer for John Cena, but if he were Korean.  Like seriously, it’s basically John Cena’s face with Korean eyes and black hair, but generally the exact same jaw line, cheekbone structure and silhouette of his head.  I couldn’t get over it, and always said to myself, or aloud when I saw him, KOREAN JOHHHHHN CENAAAA

Then because big brother is always watching, I got a preview reel of it on social, and I watched as Korean John Cena was killing a bunch of high school punks with defense, getting them to swing and miss and wail on each other, and then I thought to myself, yeah ok, this might be interesting to watch after all, and when the moment was right, I dove right into watching.

My mom would have called this an 엉터리 show, which is Korean for trash or bullshit, and from a literal point of view, yeah, it might be.  But I’ll be damned if I didn’t enjoy the it, because the plot was very linear, situations were exaggerated heavily for emphasis, it wasn’t a season of 26 episodes at 94 minutes each like a lot of Korean shows tend to drag on for, and of course, it had Korean John Cena.

And the best part is that his character, ERPB Inspector Na Hwa-Jin basically was like John Cena, in the sense that he was basically permanently Super Cena where nobody could hurt him, he was always coming out on top, and always seemed to have the moral high ground no matter the circumstances.

Hopefully the show doesn’t achieve the level of popularity to where white folks feel the need to re-make it for white people, even if the very Korean tropes featured throughout the show mostly wouldn’t hardly apply to Americans, but never underestimate white peoples’ ability to appropriate and twist things in order to make it work for whitey.  However, if this were ever to come to fruition and an American version of Teach You A Lesson starred actual John Cena in the leading role, then maybe it would have a chance.  Lord knows the role is tailor made for him.

Dad Brog (#175): Oh I see where I stand

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Early in my parenting journey, among the numerous cliches and unsolicited advice I would receive because dads for some reason are seen as the lovable oafs of families incapable of even the most basic shit, were always a bunch of Ninas parroting stating caution for, The Terrible Twos™ where presumably toddlers at the age of two become some sort of nightmare children, where parenting takes a rampant difficulty spike and makes us want to blow our brains out.

Sure, I’m sure if I go back into my brog’s archives there are all sorts of dad brog posts between 2022 and 2023 where I probably hated what my life was being at that time, but in the grand spectrum of things, year two for both my kids weren’t any harder or worse than life’s ordinary challenges at those times.

The terrible twos can be for terrible parents, because they weren’t really a big deal in my household.

However, nobody once heeded me any sort of warning for the Terrible Sixes, because throughout the duration of year six for my elder child, holy poop has she become an insufferable little shit at time, full of melodrama, exaggeration, but mostly an endless amount of complaining about damn near everything.

Mostly boredom, which I’ve always believed to be the primary obstacle in harmonious living for children.  But it doesn’t matter that we have multiple regions of my entire home that look like a Toys R’ Us was resurrected and then imploded, plus all the crap they have in their bedrooms, my kids have the audacity to claim that they’re bored at almost any time in which they are not being actively played with.

I love playing with my kids, but I’m a sensible person who occasionally likes to have moments where I can pretend like I’m not a dad and can sit and stare at nothing, or look at one of the numerous memes and texts sent to me by a friend or my brother, like any other adult of our times.

But recently, in one of her self-agonizing bouts of boredom, #1 was going on and on about what she wanted that would undoubtedly succeeding at defeating her boredom, and I simply asked her, what about what I want?  Her response?

it doesn’t matter what you want, dad…

Okay.  I just got The Rock’d by my own kid.  Needless to say, nobody found it more entertaining than I did, and I laughed heartily for nearly three straight minutes, at my kid saying such a dick thing to me, all because of the way it was said.

Needless to say, she didn’t get what she wanted, and I didn’t cave, but nor did I really get to chill out, and probably looked at my watch and wondered what the fuck I could do as a parent to try and find some sort of push/win-win scenario where we can pass the time without too much trouble.

Either way, the point remains that year six has proven to be what I imagine what other shittier parents think they have when dealing with the Terrible Twos.  The difference is that six-year olds are more developed, cognizant and aware, know more vocabulary and can speak their tantrums into existence, which mine is, frequently, versus a tiny two who’s still learning the endless depth to what the world has to offer.

This is why I always scoff, roll my eyes, and laugh at anyone out there without kids who thinks at all that their lives are difficult.  Y’all MFers just won’t get it; and it doesn’t matter what you think.

SummerSlam, blets and moments

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I didn’t watch SummerSlam, nor did I actually care to even exert a modicum of effort in order to watch it.  I know that my general fandom of the WWE product has been tested and waning over the last year or so and the grand consensus of all the changes and corporatization of the company is resulting in me gaining more and more distance from the product like it were 1990 all over again and my parents cancelling cable television, preventing me from keeping up with the biz.

Every show is behind a different pay wall, Fanatics has standardized and priced merchandise to inaccessibility, and frankly the product blows chunks now.  Storylines are convoluted and limited to the smallest of pools, and RAW on Netflix is so overwhelmingly buried in ads, I sometimes feel like I’m watching a pirated stream instead of a program that I’m paying a subscription to watch.

That being said, when one of my bros asked our group chat if anyone were watching SummerSlam, it took me 0.2 seconds to respond ‘no.’  I left out the part that I thought it was probably going to be mid as fuck, and the whole two-night show thing that TKO is trying to force like it’s a second Wrestlemania seems like bullshit and when the day is over, there were only two matches on the entire event that I remotely cared about.

Additionally, I knew that there was little point to watching the show, given the fact that with maybe an 18-minute delay, the results of every single match would be spoiled and revealed on various social media outlets, and I could get the Cliff’s notes on the entire show without having to sit through all the ads, rest holds, and botches from the gradual blunting of talent over the last years.

The good news for me was that the two matches I did care about, ended in the ways that I was happy with.  One was predictable, which was the culmination of Chad Gable’s redemption story, with him defeating Penta for the Intercontinental championship.  In the past, I would’ve said for certain that Gable was going to lose, because in the Vince McMahon era of the company, it was almost an unwritten rule that superstars did not win in their hometowns, but in the TKO era, they’re so obsessed with creating moments but more importantly farming footage for future UnTolds, that stuff like this flips, and it’s become pretty predictable, even moreso than it used to be, even for a wrestling oracle like myself.

But still, I’m happy to see Chad Gable get a signature W at the event, because the man has been one of the hardest working and mold-breaking performers over the last few years and it always brings me great joy to see hard workers get their just desserts.

The other match I was intrigued in, ended in really the only winner I had hoped for, but assumed was not going to be the case, which was Chelsea Green climbing to the top of the ladder and winning the Women’s championship, made vacant by the very legitimate Rhea Ripley injury.

As much as I love Chelsea and the internet loves Chelsea, there’s no denying that the E has treated her like this expendable comedy act, and given the fact that she was in the match with former champions like Charlotte, Jade Cargill and Tiffany Stratton, it seemed more likely the E would give it to one of the safe choices, and that Chelsea was there to provide some highlights and outstanding character work.

But the E loves to give surprises, and like I had mentioned, I’m convinced now that they’re so fixated on creating compelling content for UnTold documentaries, they allowed for the impossible to happen, and regardless of their motivations, I was stoked to discover that Chelsea Green had outlasted all the competition, and walked away as the new women’s champion.

Naturally, both these matches occurred on Night 2 of SummerSlam, and if the E really wants to ensure that two-day events have any modicum of succeeding in the long run, they have got to stop backloading their events so blatantly, because history has not been kind to the small number of two-day events they’ve held thusfar, with Night 1 shows being mid as fuck compared to their Night 2 counterparts.

Among the ocean of mediocrity that was the rest of SummerSlam, what stood out to me the most was the introduction of, what’s being called the ESPN Moment of the Night championship blet, inconsequentially being handed out, pretty informally on social media, to the worker of the show that, much to the low-hanging fruit name of the title goes, perceived to have made the best moment of the night.

Night 1 of SummerSlam, the “title” went to Oba Femi, presumably because of his emotional and landmark victory over Brock Lesnar, supposedly ending the career of one of the most impactful performers in the history of the business.  I mean, considering what else was on the card that night, it was pretty low-hanging fruit, and much like the importance of what the title represents, it’s pretty useless, and for a jaded smark like me, actually more of a detriment, because I kind of see it as ESPN giving a middle finger to all the oldhead fans like myself who don’t like all these paywalls, all these separate services, and all the infectious corporatization of the product we once loved so much.

That being said, as happy as I was to see Chelsea Green win the Women’s championship, it was like someone peeing into the pool of celebration when I later saw that ESPN had “awarded” her with the ESPN moment of the night blet, and seeing it on her shoulder in conjunction with an infinitely more meaningful prize on her other.  Fewer things spoil a good time than the arrival of the asshole that everyone doesn’t like but feels obligated to be civil towards because they have a lot of money and influence.

Either way, I’m stoked that performers I like got their flowers and moments at SummerSlam, but at same time I feel satisfied with my choice to not bother watching or pursuing the show because aside from those two matches I don’t really feel like I missed anything, and even if there were, it’s not like I wouldn’t be able to find it on YouTube or any other temporary hosting of the important things.

But that fucking ESPN blet, it is astonishing, that TKO has managed to create a championship blet that is somehow more meaningless and has less importance than any of the 25 straps circulating in the AEW/ROH wrestling space, as well as any of the 14 straps that Mercedes Mone was concurrently holding a little while back.

Watching the WWE has kind of become a job

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

When I was on vacation, I didn’t really think much of wrestling beyond the show in Korea that I was going to go/had gone to, and thinking of an upcoming local show that I mentally reminded myself to reach out to my boys about when I got back.  But as far as what was going on in the big pro-wrestling industry, I knew that I was missing out on things, but at the same time I didn’t really care.

Through social media, I saw that Sami Zayn had won the WWE championship at Night of Champions, which in one hand made me happy because I’ve grown to really appreciate the man and his career, and it always brings me satisfaction when a hard worker gets rewarded. 

However, in the other hand, was the skepticism that his win came entirely on account of the fact that this was one of the WWE’s gross Saudi shows, and in spite of the fact that the E has gotten a lot of credit in recent years for not treating viewers like complete idiots like they used to, such doesn’t seem to apply to the Saudi shows and the company pretty much does nothing but grasp at low-hanging fruit out in the Middle East.  It’s very easy to assume that Sami won in Saudi Arabia almost entirely to satiate the local audience, getting to see an openly Muslim man win the largest prize in the company.

Such narrative was justified just nine days later, when Sami would immediately drop the WWE championship to a returning CM Punk; contrary to what I was just saying about not treating fans like idiots, such had occurred in Chicago, Punk’s hometown, being seen as yet another low-hanging fruit cash grab, or that Sami was seen as nothing more than a transitional champion and that this was the plan all along, neither of which is particularly good optics among the IWC.

The E has been harder and harder to keep up with, much less actually, like and enjoy, as the sands of time have progressed since the company had been sold, folded into the parent TKO company, and turned into this NASCAR-like ATM of corporate greed.

Months ago, I stated that I’d never felt more alienated from the WWE and my general fandom, and not only has that not changed, but the chasm has widened and continues to do so.

Obviously, companies like the WWE and their parents TKO don’t become the bloated fat cash cows they are because they care about lifer fans with lots of opinions like me, but if it actually mattered, they’re at constant risk of fans like me turning my back on them because of how much they’ve changed things, primarily for the pursuit of moar and moar money.

The point of all this is that I’d actually been debating with myself since coming back from vacation, on if it really wanted to bother getting back into watching big wrestling anymore, because over the last few months, watching wrestling has begun to feel more like a chore and that my time was not being spent well doing such, versus actually enjoying the product. 

For every Iyo Sky vs. Rhea Ripley or El Grande Americano vs. El Grande Americano banger classic, there are hours upon hours of ads to have to sit through, predictable, ChatGPT-generated storylines, moar ads, moar shitty product, and a whole lot more ads.

But for lack of a better alternative, as well as probably false-hope clinging that just one more RAW will get better, I still tuned into RAW the other night, just to see where things were.  And honestly, nothing was really new, and I’m left wondering why I even bother, yet again.  I’d say I’ll just keep up through YouTube, but even those videos are so loaded with ads now as well, that they’re becoming a chore as well.

I was chatting with some of my bros during the broadcast, and it dawned on me that watching the WWE was a lot more like a job, than the last time I opined such, and it was slightly more explainable now, because as someone who has worked for large corporations for the most of their career, watching WWE truly feels like a scenario where I like and appreciate all the workers and talent, but I really dislike and detest all of the higher-ups, shareholders and people who are steering the workers and talent into soul-sucking and inefficient uses of their skillsets.

Frankly I realize that I’ve had this mentality and relationship with other fandoms in my life, like how I’ve felt/currently feel about the Atlanta Braves, as well as how I’ve felt about most of the companies I’ve ever worked for.  I appreciate (most) talent, workers and colleagues, but I don’t particularly care much for those higher up, playing a different game than the rest of the pleebs.

This is probably one of those revelations where I’m amazed to realize at the age of 44, and that there are probably tons of people way more enlightened than me that figured it out way longer ago.  That fandoms all eventually feel like jobs at times, and that it’s worth pondering on if they’re worth continuing to keep once they hit that point, or if we should always just be looking for better things to invest our time into.

As far as professional wrestling goes, I still enjoy going to indy shows with friends, and thankfully Atlanta has no shortage of availability of such shows, and even though I’m jaded and completely skeptical of the E these days, I still have hopes for the few storylines that it’s clear that the company actually gives a shit about, like the masterpiece that is the redemption of Chad Gable. 

Granted, I know that on a long enough timeline, they’ll fuck it up because they always fuck up eventually, be it through he’ll fall short at Summer Slam due to some shenanigans, an injury, or they won’t plan for anything beyond his initial journey and that he peters out after victory, but at least for the time being, he’s probably the best thing going under the E umbrella, and the only thing I’m truly vested in with the company.

I guess too much salt can be a health violation

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

There is a remote possibility that at some point in the life of the brog, that I may have posted about this place in the past.  Either here, or on one of my social profiles when I was probably trying to be funny.

Either way, the thing is, I know exactly where this place is, seeing as how I used to be a resident of the south side of Metro Atlanta.  I used to live within reasonable driving distance to this place, and I in fact used to shop at the grocery store that was in the same plaza occasionally.

That being said, aside from the fact that the place is clearly named after the legendary WWE superstar/manager, it’s my familiarity with the place that adds to my general amusement of the fact that Mr. Fuji Japanese Steak House somehow managed to get a staggering 18 U rating on their State of Georgia Food and Safety Inspection score.

I mean, it seems pretty apparent that the food rating grading scale isn’t that far off from general public school grading scales.  100 the obvious goal, 90-99 is generally positively looked upon,* 80-89 being that solid B that lets patrons know that they’re still mostly safe, 70-79** being that dreaded C grade that might make a patron reconsider their choices, and anything below that would probably have someone who walked in the door turn around and leave immediately.  Frankly, that latter rating probably means the business has to shut down and address all transgressions until they’re legally allowed to operate again, but I don’t care enough to verify.

*unless your parents are Asian in which you’ve disappointed them for not just being perfect, but that you were probably 1-2 careless errors away from it

**writing this all out makes me realize that restaurant grading scales really is more Asian than American, because once you hit that C or below, it might as well be first-degree murder

So with all that in consideration, massive props to Mr. Fuji for violating so much shit that they got an almost unbelievable 18 score.  I remember back when I was in the 3rd grade and really struggling to get my multiplication tables, we had these daily drill worksheets that had like 100 math problems, and we all had 3 minutes to do as many of them as we could.  And the class had this board with every student’s name on it, and upon successful completion (80% or higher), students would get a sticker and advance to the next level.

I’m not sure how much this would be deemed acceptable in today’s standards, but like I said I struggled tremendously, and I got hung up on the third worksheet for the longest time.  One can imagine the number it was doing to my self-esteem to see the class chart when I was the last student stuck on level 3, while the rest of my class was pulling more and more ahead with each successive day. 

Eventually, multiplication just clicked for me and I would eventually go on a heater where I smashed #3, caught up to the rest of my class, and actually surpassed some of my peers before the entire introduction to multiplication drills came to a conclusion.

However, unnecessary as it was for me to write out that last paragraph beyond trying to ensure that any of my zero readers doesn’t think I’m still a mathematical luddite, backing back up to the point of why I brought up that nostalgia in the first place, there was once a day where while I was still struggling on #3 for probably the 11th time, I had bombed so badly that the teacher X’ed out the first ten or so wrong answers, and then just scrawled a giant red X throughout the rest of my worksheet, even though I did have 9×9=81 correct, because for whatever reason that one always stuck with me.

My teacher was that disgusted with my performance, that they basically threw in the towel on my worksheet that day, in exasperation.

I feel like whatever inspector came into Mr. Fuji to do their safety check, probably had to have hit a point throughout their visit, and just scrawled a giant red X on their checklist, before remembering that they were doing a state-mandated task, and then being thorough with their inspection, and writing down all the infractions as ticky-tack as “employee’s personal effects too close to food service area” to “entire planet of mutant cockroaches discovered in food storage areas.”

But 18 is a pretty legendary score of futility.  I remember teachers in the past would tell all the delinquent students who had a tendency to not do their work or turn things in outright, that a 60 F was still better than a zero in the grade book; sure 18 is going to be better than a zero for state safety inspections, but in this case, not by a whole fucking lot.  It’s like doing the SATs, writing down your name and banking those 100 points, but then turning in a blank scantron at the end.

Either way, pour one out for Mr. Fuji, as well as Peachtree City.  As a former resident there, I can tell you that there’s almost no diversity when it comes to eateries down there, and Mr. Fuji was probably one of the only places down there to get anything remotely tasting close to a flavor of the wondrous Orient, short of making it one’s self or befriending any of the Japanese residents that worked in the area.