The Ringer - The ‘WrestleMania 35’ Match Book2019-04-05T10:37:24-04:00http://www.theringer.com/rss/stream/180296092019-04-05T10:37:24-04:002019-04-05T10:37:24-04:00‘WrestleMania 35’ Preview: Rest of the Best
<figure>
<img alt="" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/k-caDZsnulJbvMXVw5qOFu6wik4=/167x0:2834x2000/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/63360410/herzog_mania_final_wwe_ringer.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>WWE/Ringer illustration</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>A lightning-round breakdown of the card’s secondary bouts</p> <p id="IBmEFI">In case you’ve had WWE programming on mute for the past several weeks, <em>WrestleMania 35 </em>is fast upon us, which means it is our eminent duty to periodically roll out excruciatingly detailed previews of each individual match in the month-plus leading up to April 7. It is, to be pointed, <em>The Ringer</em>’s <em>WrestleMania </em>Match Book.</p>
<p id="KKpN1S">As of this writing, the card for professional wrestling’s biggest night has finally (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AHETS99CEz8">we think?</a>) been fully confirmed. Over the past several weeks, <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/14/18265568/the-wrestlemania-35-match-book">we’ve covered the preeminent showdowns in depth</a>. And for this ultimate pit stop, we’re rounding up the remaining nine matches that either weren’t set in stone soon enough for a deeper dive or, frankly, feel pretty shallow. So without further ado, behold our abridged Match Book addendum, in which we tersely tell you a good deal of what you need to know about <em>Mania</em>’s outstanding miscellany. </p>
<h3 id="AoC6q7">
<em><strong>WrestleMania </strong></em><strong>Match Book, Volume 2: Everything Else</strong>
</h3>
<h4 id="bVvIw7"><strong>Chapter 1: Kurt Angle vs. Baron Corbin in Angle’s Farewell Match</strong></h4>
<p id="BSVnLH">The former Olympic gold medalist (that would be Angle, not Corbin) has been on a weepy, withering <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JcckKptgoeo">farewell tour</a> across <em>Raw </em>and <em>SmackDown </em>for weeks, sapping some of the oomph from this <em>Mania </em>blow-off. The ceremonies supposedly will get sewed up on Sunday, hopefully with redemption against recent nemesis (of both Angle and the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-gtgur20y6o">entire WWE universe</a>) Baron Corbin. There is every expectation that John Cena—who is conspicuous in his absence from the card and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=10ivQ3ogO1M&t=751s">famously beat Angle</a> in his first televised match 17 years ago—might arrive, squash Corbin and sub himself in. Though for all we know, Angle’s story line son Jason Jordan could come out and sabotage his kayfabe dad and incite Kurt’s actual final feud. If WWE plays it straight or less than totally askew, this will mark a wrap on one of modern wrestling’s most magical careers.</p>
<aside id="IzNuO7"><div data-anthem-component="readmore" data-anthem-component-data='{"stories":[{"title":"All the Winners of ‘WrestleMania 35’","url":"https://www.theringer.com/2019/4/5/18296315/wrestlemania-35-becky-lynch-kofi-kingston-rousey-daniel-bryan-miz-roman-reigns-brock-lesnar-rollins"}]}'></div></aside><h4 id="qpYLzN"><strong>Chapter 2: Bobby Lashley (c) vs. Finn Bálor for the Intercontinental Championship</strong></h4>
<p id="k3MGCs">The big news here is that Bálor’s demonic alter ego (ingeniously dubbed “The Demon”) is back, and judging by his <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1UWhLC73BQ">appearance on <em>Raw </em>this week</a>, dealing with some unwieldy salivary glands. Lashley, who’s been quite excellent as a heel alongside mini-him Lio Rush, has traded the Intercontinental belt back and forth with Bálor for most of this year, though there really isn’t much of a story outside of some little-man-on-little-man harassment between Rush and Bálor and Lashley doing everything he can to stack the deck against a guy half his size. Expect a solid if unspectacular match, and consider Bálor’s triumph a likelihood. If that’s the case, will this finally spell the end for Lashley and Lio’s special arrangement? What, you don’t care? Fair enough.</p>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt=" " data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/IpDFSp1LXaT-PtPpCWM00XmpG7M=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/16010354/171_FAST_03102019cm_4438__ba408cae67605736c60cff483dfa3256.jpg">
<cite>WWE</cite>
<figcaption>Bayley and Sasha Banks</figcaption>
</figure>
<h4 id="g4PpaH"><strong>Chapter 3: Sasha Banks and Bayley (c) vs. Beth Phoenix and Natalya vs. The IIconics vs. Tamina and Nia Jax for the Women’s Tag Team Championship</strong></h4>
<p id="dAXzVx">Less than a year ago, friends-turned-mortal-adversaries Sasha Banks and Bayley <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G9D5-zx1Ink">were in therapy</a> to work through their deep-seated conflict. But look at them now! All’s well with the first-ever WWE Women’s Tag Team Champions, who have found themselves targeted by no less than three dynamic duos. First, Beth Phoenix assumed the annual “I’m unretiring for a few months to burnish my legacy” mantle—claimed last fall by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9lKsOumpH0">Lita and Trish Stratus</a>—by rejoining former Divas of Doom partner Natalya and aiming to prove the old pros can still go. Then there’s bullies Nia and Tamina, who don’t really win a whole lot (though an oddsmaker might bet on that changing this weekend) but tend to show up everywhere and throw their weight around. And last but maybe-possibly least, Peyton Royce and Billie Kay, a.k.a. the Ilconics, a comedy duo nevertheless boosted by fan support and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0TH0r9vCIM">whose shared history</a> actually trumps that of Beth and Natalya. This is mostly about making time for everyone involved on the card (did we hear an echo re: the men’s <em>SmackDown </em>tag-title four-way?), just about all of whom—all things being equal, we’d find a way to fit an Asuka or Naomi in there—merit as much. </p>
<h4 id="mbzGor">
<strong>Chapter 4: The Usos (c) vs. The Bar vs. Ricochet and Aleister Black vs. Rusev and Shinsuke Nakamura for the </strong><em><strong>SmackDown</strong></em><strong> Tag Team Championship</strong>
</h4>
<p id="xVtExe">This can’t be what Nakamura had in mind when he <a href="https://www.wwe.com/shows/wwenxt/article/shinsuke-nakamura-signs-wwe-nxt">came over from Japan</a> three-plus years ago. As for his fly-by-night partner Rusev (their arrangement is the rare heel spin on begrudged respect resulting in a new alliance, rehashed from very recent example the Bar), the Bulgarian brute spent much of 2018 vying for <em>SmackDown </em>tag supremacy with the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JqBPfV4MuQI">self-professed Shakespeare of Song</a> (now <em>205 Live </em>color man) Aiden English, so nothing’s shocking. The Bar and the Usos are natural adversaries—as opposed to Usos and New Day, whose chemistry as peers overpowered their bad blood—and Black and Ricochet have been given multiple title shots on <em>Raw </em>and <em>SmackDown </em>despite still technically being considered NXT hands. Black and Ricochet needn’t pick up a win here, but it’s a chance for WWE to showcase its two future dynasts regardless. None of these teams <em>needs </em>this win, really. The expectation is they’ll razzle and dazzle and hype up the crowd (and maybe open the show so the world can see them shine outdoors in broad daylight?). If the hope for Rusev and Nakamura is that they can jell into something approximating Sheamus and Cesaro’s unforeseeable union, giving them the victory would be a solid first step toward finding out. </p>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt=" " data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/aw5B1dSxKljnhx4cYk25_2YuALY=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/16010355/20190305_smackdown_samoa_exclusive__68a638eb4001f1ba7a75fc2f210edc1d.jpg">
<cite>WWE</cite>
<figcaption>Samoa Joe</figcaption>
</figure>
<h4 id="VMGsMx"><strong>Chapter 5: Samoa Joe (c) vs. Rey Mysterio for the United States Championship</strong></h4>
<p id="iow5oJ">You know what’s never a good look heading into a <em>Mania </em>title opportunity? Losing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lio0EgIGOoM">to Baron Corbin</a> on the go-home <em>SmackDown</em>. Especially if you’re a legend like Rey Mysterio staring down U.S. Champ Samoa Joe in his first <em>Mania </em>match. And that injury Rey apparently suffered against Corbin that may have hastened his defeat? Judging by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=50lrsW_MGPk">Joe’s subsequent promo</a>, it won’t actually keep Mysterio from MetLife Stadium. Come to watch as Joe invariably wobbles into prone position for the <a href="https://youtu.be/llzSYQYcrmg?t=19">most shamelessly choreographed</a> setup move in pro wrestling, stay to watch Joe retain (or not) in a 10-minute meeting of hurricanranas and rear-naked chokes. Just try not to go to sleep.</p>
<h4 id="nLzzCV"><strong>Chapter 6: Buddy Murphy (c) vs. Tony Nese for the Cruiserweight Championship</strong></h4>
<p id="3jXVrw">Murphy’s held the title for half a year and hails from halfway across the world in Australia. Tony Nese has lots of abs and, as a native Long Islander, is more or less fighting for his hometown crowd. This has the makings of a feel-good win for Nese (who, in story line terms, was buddy-buddy with Murphy until he felt taken for granted as a competitive threat). Either way, Murphy gets to <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BPoN7WQDe22/?hl=en">go home with the <em>Mania </em>host</a>.</p>
<h4 id="YA2ydX"><strong>Chapter 7: The Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royal</strong></h4>
<p id="htXKgX">Not impressed that past winners include Mojo Rawley and an aging Big Show? What if we told you that Braun Strowman—who’s almost certain to be the last monster standing this year—will have to contend with <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Av_e2y7g8Cg">his recent nemeses</a>, <em>Mania 35 </em>correspondents Colin Jost and Michael Che of <em>SNL</em>? Eh? Point is, this now five-year-old homage to wrestling’s most legendary big man (as embodied via a trophy that could be mistaken for a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andr%C3%A9_the_Giant_Memorial_Battle_Royal#/media/File:2015-03-28_08-18-46_ILCE-6000_DSC04210_(16799599883).jpg">life-sized Andre the Giant fondue fountain</a>) is a glorified clearinghouse for guys otherwise left off the card. It has no real consequence. But it’s still a battle royal, and it’s still a chance to play <a href="https://www.si.com/wrestling/2019/03/29/wwe-andre-giant-memorial-battle-royal-participants">“Hey, that guy!”</a> while your friends try to improve the WiFi connection through your PS4. </p>
<h4 id="1QTGDv"><strong>Chapter 8: Women’s Battle Royal </strong></h4>
<p id="5OXRJb">The women have been done dirty this year. With all the promotional eggs—and female singles gold—firmly in the main-event basket, former <em>SmackDown </em>champ Asuka and every other active woman not in said headlining triple threat or previously discussed eight-person tag-title dance has been relegated to this second annual kickoff-show scrum. It’s less explicitly ceremonial than the men’s equivalent, and ergo a bit more intriguing, Names like Nikki Cross and the underutilized Zelina Vega are in the mix this time, and if anything, all competitors can take heart: The Man Becky Lynch—the hottest star heading into <em>Mania 35</em>,<em> </em>period—fought in this same battle royal in 2018 and didn’t even win. Can only go up from here.</p>
<h4 id="GCRgIz"><strong>Postscript</strong></h4>
<p class="c-end-para" id="CXMWq6">Zack Ryder and Curt Hawkins challenge for and win the <em>Raw </em>belts or we riot. [<em>Editor’s note: </em><a href="https://www.f4wonline.com/wwe-news/revival-vs-ryder-hawkins-officially-added-wrestlemania-280871"><em>No riot necessary</em></a><em>.</em>]</p>
<aside id="oUrvP2"><div data-anthem-component="newsletter" data-anthem-component-data='{"slug":"ringer_newsletter"}'></div></aside>
https://www.theringer.com/2019/4/5/18296710/wrestlemania-match-book-volume-2-kurt-angle-baron-corbin-sasha-banks-beth-phoenix-uso-black-ricochetKenny Herzog2019-04-04T09:28:43-04:002019-04-04T09:28:43-04:00The Miz Is an Era-Defining WWE Star
<figure>
<img alt="" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/Eiv0UyfacOC1bMSQe2CVJUSVFLA=/400x0:2800x1800/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/63349455/03__3_.0.jpg" />
<figcaption><a class="ql-link" href="https://idrawforfood.co.uk/" target="_blank">Dan Evans</a></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>How the MTV reality star turned WWE mainstay became must-see </p> <p class="p--has-dropcap" id="CgmXh7">If you talk to Mike “The Miz” Mizanin long enough, he’ll invariably slip in and out of character. One moment, he’s Mike, offhandedly trying to explain why he’s experienced an improbable, almost cultlike swell of popularity on the back end of a 13-years-and-counting career in WWE. “I don’t see the cult following,” he intones sincerely while driving to Allentown, Pennsylvania, for a live event late last month. “What I see is an audience starting to see a veteran.”</p>
<p id="MvCO85">But then there’s the Miz. He’s not acting, per se. (Though he has been known <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pSYejKtgUoI">to do that</a> outside the ring.) But when he tries to explain his longevity within WWE, his response leans toward performance art: “I’m a guy that WWE looks at and says, ‘Hey, we need someone to go to a Fox <a href="https://adage.com/special-reports/tvupfront/155">upfront</a> sales pitch, the Miz is there. We need a person for a Snickers campaign? The Miz is there. If we need a host, we need a commentator, we need a main-event WWE superstar, we need a movie star, we need any of those types of things, get the Miz in there.’ Because I dedicate myself and I make my goals a reality.”</p>
<p id="FRmUAm">To Mizanin’s credit, he’s self-aware enough to stop midstream, laugh at himself, and apologize for “cutting promos on you.” And in the 38-year-old highly decorated (18 total championships!) veteran’s defense, the line separating the Miz from Mizanin was virtually nonexistent as far back as 2001, when he was on <em>Real World: Back to New York</em>. Millions (yep, MTV prime time used to notch millions of viewers) witnessed Mizanin’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZRXOTH85fao">antic metamorphosis</a> into his aspiring WWF alter ego, a goofball persona that helped smooth over <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izcrTb4Y8o0">tensions with his racially diverse roommates</a> and later, on spinoff competition show <em>The Challenge</em>, left him pegged as a bit of a bonehead.</p>
<p id="UKPMRO">“I was losing a lot and I didn’t know how to take it, so I drank a lot, listened to Slipknot, and just started hitting my head on things, talking to myself as the Miz,” he recounts of his infamous 2002 “Battle of the Seasons” <a href="http://www.mtv.com/news/2348414/mike-the-miz-mizanin-challenge-real-world-middle-night-show/">meltdown</a>. “It’s funny, because that kind of created a whole new realm for the Miz. Everyone stopped calling me Mike and started calling me the Miz, so that moment really catapulted who the Miz is even though it was the most embarrassing moment I’ve ever had on a show.”</p>
<div class="c-float-left c-float-hang"><aside id="k0dea2"><div data-anthem-component="newsletter" data-anthem-component-data='{"slug":"ringer_newsletter"}'></div></aside></div>
<p id="LvJTJ3">Miz has essentially spent his entire adulthood getting paid to walk the tightrope of his split personalities—megalomaniacal athlete-cum-convivial-entertainer Miz and dialed-in professional and family man Mizanin—and conjure his childish id. In a very real way, his dedication to nurturing those dual identities is paying dividends this week. On Tuesday, he and wife/former two-time WWE Divas Champion Maryse celebrated the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QBqqZELc4U">Season 1.5 premiere</a> of their USA reality series, <em>Miz & Mrs</em>., which can best be summed up as a long-delayed wrestling-world echo of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2h72aXVP8o"><em>Newlyweds: Nick and Jessica</em></a>. (<em>Miz & Mrs.</em> was just <a href="https://deadline.com/2019/04/miz-mrs-renewed-for-season-2-by-usa-network-1202586998/">renewed for a second season</a>.) Then on Sunday, Miz will square off against ex-tag-team partner Shane McMahon in a Falls Count Anywhere <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/14/18265469/wrestlemania-35-match-book-miz-shane-mcmahon"><em>WrestleMania </em>grudge match</a>. (Shane got tired of the Miz and <a href="https://www.wwe.com/videos/shane-mcmahon-brutalizes-the-miz-at-wwe-fastlane-wwe-now">took it out</a> on his poor, potato-faced father.) All this with—as <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2eTZiSthC2Y">we learned recently</a>—baby number two on the way.</p>
<p id="84S5Xj">We are living in an era of peak Miz, which seems like a ridiculous thing to say, and even more ridiculous if you had been in a coma since his <em>Real World</em> turn, or since <em>The Challenge</em>, or even since his WWE debut, or, hell, since he last held the WWE Championship. Here’s the question for Mizanin: How has this once-sheltered Midwest jock from Parma, Ohio, remained a constant pop-culture fixture since the turn of the millennium? And is he his generation’s defining WWE superstar?</p>
<h3 id="kGYnGv">Dropping the Mike</h3>
<p id="bAijp9">Miz gets defensive when you talk about wrestlers paying their dues on the indie circuit. His voice tightens, and even though we’re talking over the phone, it’s easy to imagine his cheeks flushing and his hands digging into the wheel as he steers himself toward Northeastern Pennsylvania. “I would do speeches at colleges when I was on the <em>Real World </em>in front of 3,000 people and get paid to go do that, and then I would go wrestle for UPW in front of 20 people in the back of an alley somewhere,” he says, referring to his early-2000s stint in Ultimate Pro Wrestling, also an early launching pad for his future onscreen foe John Cena. </p>
<div id="Ps0y5G"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 75.0019%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/C2I80CyCoXQ?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="zrmjh9">But I didn’t care, because I was learning how to become a WWE superstar, what the art of wrestling is. Did I spend 10 years developing a character and getting up wherever I need to go? No. But I also didn’t have the opportunities to go to Zero1 or New Japan to do that, because when Zero1 came in, they didn’t want me. But then when <em>Tough Enough</em>”—basically WWE’s version of <em>American Idol</em>—“came along, they wanted me, so I did it. And I guarantee all those indie guys, when the opportunity came, they took it.”</p>
<div class="c-float-right c-float-hang"><aside id="gu6j9Q"><q>“I am a true underdog story. ... I was the outcast. When I first got there, nobody wanted me. I was kicked out of the locker room, the audience didn’t want me, and I fought tooth-and-nail with crowds booing me, telling me I suck.”</q></aside></div>
<p id="MuF95F">That much is self-evident with even a cursory glance at the current WWE roster. Daniel Bryan, Kevin Owens, AJ Styles, Ricochet, Adam Cole, Seth Rollins, and Dean Ambrose are several among a sizable bloc that executive VP of talent, creative, and live events Paul “Triple H” Levesque and his team have siphoned off from Pro Wrestling Guerrilla, Ring of Honor, Combat Zone Wrestling, and other smaller promotions. </p>
<p id="rTy8pb">But if there’s one area where Miz did work to distinguish himself from his scrappier counterparts, it was honing the intangibles that make a total sports-entertainment package. While he was training at UPW, Miz moved from Ohio to Los Angeles (he’s since moved with his family to Austin, Texas), <a href="https://www.vulture.com/2015/09/miz-guide-to-distancing-yourself-from-your-reality-tv-past.html">invested in acting lessons, and secured an agent</a>. By the time he booked <em>Tough Enough</em>, his goal was simple: transform his Miz persona as witnessed on <em>Real World </em>into an immersive, unapologetic spectacle of ego and entitlement. And once they’re hooked, reel them in with your refined(-ish) in-ring skills.</p>
<div id="nP1tDV"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RWTIL9-Yy3U?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="VWgZW1">It worked—Mizanin finished <em>Tough Enough </em>in second place, scored a deal with then-WWE developmental arm Ohio Valley Wrestling and debuted on <em>SmackDown </em>in late summer 2006. He was, to put it lightly, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0a3iKyFFmWQ">overeager</a> in the early going. He was also put through his paces—at one point being <a href="https://www.wrestlinginc.com/news/2017/06/john-morrison-talks-chris-benoit-kicking-miz-out-of-the-627441/">exiled from the locker room</a> for months after demonstrating disrespectful dining etiquette—by an experienced coterie of old-school standard-bearers, and <a href="https://forum.bodybuilding.com/showthread.php?t=917380&page=1">openly ridiculed</a> by fans still coming to grips with the departures of signature, charismatic Attitude Era figures like Steve Austin and the Rock. Fans were searching for an heir apparent. Miz was not it. Not at first anyway.</p>
<div id="DW85gk"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0a3iKyFFmWQ?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="DZPJDF">“I am a true underdog story,” he suggests. “I was on a reality show. You’re supposed to be good for nothing. I wasn’t supposed to be in the fraternity of WWE. I was the outcast. When I first got there, nobody wanted me. I was kicked out of the locker room, the audience didn’t want me, and I fought tooth-and-nail with crowds booing me, telling me I suck.”</p>
<h3 id="8e78Sy"></h3>
<h3 id="9sGQS8">Swiss Army Man</h3>
<p id="DrYKNi">The Miz was stubborn. He weathered his initiation period and—unlike earlier <em>Tough Enough </em>graduates like <a href="https://twitter.com/mavenkhuffman?lang=en">Maven</a> and Chris Nowinski (who has since gone on to great visibility as a <a href="https://concussionfoundation.org/about/staff/christopher-nowinski">concussion-science advocate</a>)—the Miz stuck around. He’d proved useful as a tag-team worker (notably with John Morrison) and solo antagonist, and demonstrated that he could bridge TV time between matches as the impish host of his own interview segment, the still-occasionally-running “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NgSrbfL959c">MizTV</a>.” The heel interview show has a long-standing tradition in WWE—“Piper’s Pit,” “The Funeral Parlor,” 2019 Hall of Fame inductee Brutus “The Barber” Beefcake’s pointedly titled “<a href="https://www.wwe.com/videos/the-barber-shop-featuring-shawn-michaels-and-marty-jannetty-wrestling-challenge-jan-12-1992">Barber Shop</a>,” etc.—but this one came with a wink toward Miz’s MTV reality past. Instead of playing against expectations, he embraced them, and he evolved into one of the industry’s most hateable villains. He won his first WWE Championship in 2010, and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2HWx5-Ku_c">successfully defended it (with help from the Rock)</a> against John Cena in the headline match of <em>WrestleMania XXVII</em>.</p>
<p id="Ro5Iui">“I always put goals out there that are never supposed to happen,” he says. “I was never supposed to get on the <em>Real World</em>, but every week I would think about the questions they might ask me and about how I could impress them and make them want me more. Cut to WWE; I don’t look the part, I don’t act the part. You were supposed to be bigger, better, more athletic. But I said I could do this, and I not only did, but I went on to main-event <em>WrestleMania</em>.”</p>
<div class="c-float-left c-float-hang"><aside id="X6uLZH"><div data-anthem-component="readmore" data-anthem-component-data='{"stories":[{"title":"A Brief History of the Miz and Daniel Bryan","url":"https://www.theringer.com/2018/8/10/17672642/the-miz-daniel-bryan-feud-summerslam"}]}'></div></aside></div>
<p id="GcFEoW">Despite losing the title shortly thereafter, Miz was a made man. He spent the first half of the 2010s parachuting into repeated opportunities for the Intercontinental and United States championships while moonlighting as WWE Studios’ marquee name, starring in a succession of its straight-to-home-video <em>Marine </em>sequels after the franchise’s original anchor, John Cena, graduated to blockbuster theatrical releases. It is hard to miss, though, that Cena and the Rock—whom Miz cites frequently in our conversation as a benchmark for crossover legitimacy—along with Dave Bautista, all pushed past the perceived limitations of a pro wrestler’s versatility. Miz forged a lucrative niche by balancing his in-ring stints with parts in additional WWE Studios fare (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHpR5lI6oY0"><em>Santa’s Little Helper</em></a>, anyone?) and, in a bit of corporate reciprocity with <em>Raw </em>broadcaster USA, prime-time series like <em>Psych</em>. A-list big-screen roles, however, eluded him.</p>
<p id="LhTq7v">“Whenever a WWE superstar gets an opportunity, I am so happy,” he insists. “When Bautista got <em>Guardians of the Galaxy</em>, I looked at that and went, ‘That is so amazing.’ There’s no sense of jealousy because there’s no way I could play Drax. Drax is huge. Bautista’s perfect for it.” </p>
<p id="m6z3sT">That might suggest a self-effacement uncharacteristic of the Miz, but for all his showmanship on <em>SmackDown</em>, it’s clear that he understands his place in the big-picture food chain. He’d rather ham it up as a comedic foil in a show like <em>Modern Family </em>or <em>Curb Your Enthusiasm</em>—two examples he cites as inspiration for <em>Miz & Mrs.</em>’s antics—than try to fit in where he’s ill-suited.</p>
<p id="L1m2gl">“A lot of people don’t like auditioning, but I enjoy it,” he says. “It allows me to play another character that I may not normally do. I’ve been doing a lot of auditions for voice-over, and man I’ve been having so much fun. I love hosting, all these different things. If things don’t come my way, that’s OK. Something might. Sometimes it just takes one movie. For the Rock, it was <em>The Mummy</em>. It was a small part but it got him in the door. John Cena, <em>Trainwreck</em>. Some people were like, ‘Why is Cena doing these small parts?’ He had to build and get his foot in the door, and now everybody wants him. Everybody wants Rock. Everybody wants Bautista.” Miz says he’s been gunning for a part in <em>Bill & Ted 3</em>, though his agent at CAA hasn’t come back with anything yet.</p>
<h3 id="D0CME5">The Revival</h3>
<p id="H5OFwx">While he waited for Hollywood’s call, Miz set about what would quickly become the most critically well-received and fan-supported stage of his WWE tenure. In an echo of how “MizTV” initially played against perceptions of its host, Miz winked at his wannabe-celebrity status by turning his <em>SmackDown </em>character’s delusions of grandeur up to 11. He spiked his hair and put on sunglasses, a martial arts headband, and a sleeveless robe. He looked like <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_NERvEXkkiQ">Derek Zoolander if he’d traveled through</a> the Matrix. But the true turning point came in August 2016, when Miz laced into longtime nemesis <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2018/8/10/17672642/the-miz-daniel-bryan-feud-summerslam">Daniel Bryan</a> on the Tuesday-night aftershow <em>Talking Smack</em>, leaving everyone wondering what was real and what was planned and prompting the kind of mouth-foaming among fans that tacitly confirms a performer’s mystique.</p>
<div id="JUQrAF"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8d4SLA4HYp0?rel=0&start=" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="WUFSaW">“In 2016, all of a sudden, things started clicking to where I knew exactly what I had to do. And I had the confidence to do it.” He recalls an eye-opening chat he once had with Christian: “I was like, ‘You’re so good. There’s never a dead spot. The audience is always into it. When did that happen?’ And he goes, ‘It clicked about three years ago for me.’ And this was about 15 years into his career.’ And I always thought, ‘Oh I’m great.’ But then the same thing happened to me.”</p>
<p id="iBef4V">Around that same period, Maryse—herself a former two-time Divas Champion—reappeared and joined her husband in an intergender story line opposite (who else?) Cena and his then-girlfriend and women’s division powerhouse Nikki Bella. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n8Gm0LXnJCk">Miz and Maryse’s chemistry</a> in a series of parodic 2017 vignettes laid the groundwork for <em>Miz & Mrs.</em>, but more importantly, the angle finally repositioned the former world champion closer to the top of the card than he’d been in years. Recognition was coming from <a href="https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-sports/wwe-wrestler-of-the-year-the-miz-116075/">all corners</a>, and that momentum carried over into 2018 with a buzzy feud against the miraculously unretired Bryan and a slow but steady <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nIf4Y-3MoNc">turning of crowd sentiment</a> in his favor. In an age when even the biggest names are <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1aUL1DpH7LI">relentlessly torn down</a> for flubbed lines or forced-seeming promos, Miz is objectively the company’s surest hand.</p>
<div class="c-float-right c-float-hang"><aside id="cANTxj"><q>“This is the first time in my career that they truly like me and cheer for me, and honestly, I don’t know how to react to it.”</q></aside></div>
<p id="ZQYyTd">“This is a level of excellence I expect myself to have,” he surmises. “I have trained myself to be a great actor and have levels and feel emotion and make it feel real. And it <em>is </em>real.” Circling back to his present, onscreen issues with Shane McMahon, Miz again navigates that fine line between sticking to the script and giving it to you straight, exclaiming, “The guy put his hands on my father. I got to watch that. You don’t have to act that. I’ve always prided myself on having a lot of layers in this character, because that’s what the audience deserves. I think they’ll get involved and be more entertained if we have that. That’s what I’m trying to do, and I guess you’re kind of seeing that.”</p>
<h3 id="I2k3c9">The Ultimate WWE Superstar</h3>
<p id="uyocOp">It’s a time-honored tradition for villainous wrestlers to pivot to the side of the angels to coincide with TV or movie pushes, but Mizanin demurs on the question of whether his good-guy pivot is meant to coincide with <em>Miz & Mrs.</em>’s return. “It kind of happened organically,” he contests. “With WWE, I’ve played a bad guy for basically my entire career. When we set out to do this story with my dad, a lot of people were like, ‘Wait, this is a little heartfelt.’ And I’d go, ‘Yeah, but it’s relatable.’ Think about it—why would Shane ever want to tag with the Miz? When my dad came out and said he loved me and was proud of me, that was something special to me, and I think fans could relate to it. Do you really see Vince McMahon ever telling Shane that he loves him or that he’s proud of him?”</p>
<p id="ct0pYY">If this face turn is the reward for a decade of character building, Miz has likewise matured into a veteran who is synonymous with WWE for an entire generation of fans. And thanks to that same overeagerness he could hardly contain in his <em>SmackDown </em>debut, he’s the template for what Vince McMahon had in mind when he formalized the phrase “<a href="https://www.givemesport.com/1373095-kane-on-why-wwe-doesnt-call-their-superstars-wrestlers">WWE superstar</a>.” As the company faces headwinds from upstart threats like All Elite Wrestling—whose roster is already stacked with former WWE staples including Cody Rhodes, Chris Jericho, and PAC (known in WWE as Neville)—the Miz is content to stay where he is for as long as time and health allow. </p>
<p id="ChT633">“I am a loyal person,” he says. “When I was on MTV, I was never a guy that said anything bad about them. If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t be where I am today. WWE gave me my life. It gave me my wife. It gave me my child, and my other child. I am loyal to WWE and will always be loyal to WWE and everything it’s ever given to me. I’m a WWE superstar.”</p>
<p class="c-end-para" id="FVPzEm">That’s Mike Mizanin speaking, for the record. “It’s taken me 13-plus years, but I finally feel like I’ve actually earned [respect], and I think [fans] know I earned it, and they’re backing me. This is the first time in my career that they truly like me and cheer for me, and honestly, I don’t know how to react to it. I’m just kind of savoring it.” </p>
https://www.theringer.com/2019/4/4/18294497/the-miz-mike-mizanin-feature-wwe-wrestlemania-35Kenny Herzog2019-04-03T22:21:57-04:002019-04-03T22:21:57-04:00‘WrestleMania’ Preview With Dan St. Germain
<figure>
<img alt="" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/mELvDhDB1cXbO0FREzM_IcyFe0o=/207x0:1107x675/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/63347869/114_RAW_04012019rf_1614__2d07ff94238a6ff587571492e0b2f5cb.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>WWE</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Plus, David and Dan discuss the ‘NXT TakeOver: New York’ card and John Oliver’s piece on the WWE from ‘Last Week Tonight’</p> <div id="XWa3JL"><iframe src="https://open.spotify.com/embed-podcast/episode/3XxrGRMFI3qAW4NaSg0nbb" style="border: 0; width: 100%; height: 232px;" allowfullscreen="" allow="encrypted-media"></iframe></div>
<p id="Zp1f75"><a href="https://art19.com/shows/the-masked-man-show/episodes/d784db49-8177-4085-95b4-b36b7ddbec69">David Shoemaker and comedian Dan St. Germain</a> address John Oliver’s piece on the WWE that ran on <em>Last Week Tonight</em> (03:00) before taking a look at the <em>NXT TakeOver: New York</em> card (16:30) and giving their predictions for <em>WrestleMania XXXV</em> (27:30).</p>
<p id="jKQkQq">Host: David Shoemaker</p>
<p id="feybFl">Guest: Dan St. Germain</p>
<p id="aRw0UT"><strong>Subscribe: </strong><a href="https://go.redirectingat.com/?id=&xs=1&url=https%3A%2F%2Fitunes.apple.com%2Fus%2Fpodcast%2Fthe-masked-man-show%2Fid1211025769%3Fmt%3D2">Apple Podcasts</a> / <a href="https://art19.com/shows/the-masked-man-show">Art19</a> / <a href="https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/the-ringer/the-masked-man-show">Stitcher</a> / <a href="https://www.theringer.com/rss/the-masked-man-show/index.xml">RSS</a></p>
https://www.theringer.com/2019/4/3/18294680/wrestlemania-preview-with-dan-st-germainDavid Shoemaker2019-04-01T11:21:56-04:002019-04-01T11:21:56-04:00‘WrestleMania 35’ Preview: Daniel Bryan vs. Kofi Kingston
<figure>
<img alt="A photo illustration featuring WWE stars Daniel Bryan and Kofi Kingston" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/FEisHsTl_U1OwONxCwHK-1X7RLw=/167x0:2834x2000/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/63331965/herzog_bryan_kofi_wwe_ringer.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>WWE/Ringer illustration</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>A semi-scientific breakdown of the card’s most unforeseeable title fight</p> <p id="DliqVs">In case you’ve had WWE programming on mute for the past several weeks, <em>WrestleMania 35 </em>is fast upon us, which means it is our eminent duty to periodically roll out excruciatingly detailed previews of each individual match in the month-plus leading up to April 7. It is, to be pointed, <em>The Ringer</em>’s <em>WrestleMania </em>Match Book.</p>
<p id="f24pIA">As of this writing, the card for professional wrestling’s biggest night includes upward of a dozen confirmed bouts, several of which <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/14/18265568/the-wrestlemania-35-match-book">we’ve already covered in depth</a>. And our latest pit stop lands us at the doorstep of a WWE Championship showdown between title holder and vegan tyrant Daniel Bryan and a man whose recent run to no. 1-contender status mirrors Bryan’s road to <em>Mania XXX</em>. As has become customary in this series, the following is our finest effort at distilling the participants’ dovetailing fates, deducing why we care and who, in this instance, will walk out of MetLife Stadium with <a href="https://www.woodworkingnetwork.com/news/woodworking-industry-news/intentionally-controversial-wwe-wrestling-belt-made-oak-and-hemp">Bryan’s hideous hemp-woven strap</a>. </p>
<h3 id="zvtqi7">
<em>WrestleMania </em>Match Book, Chapter 7: Daniel Bryan (c) vs. Kofi Kingston for the WWE Championship</h3>
<h4 id="LRNPu6">The Prologue</h4>
<p id="W1BqPC">One year ago, not a single person on the planet would have projected a match between heel WWE Champion “The New” Daniel Bryan and world-beating challenger Kofi Kingston at <em>WrestleMania 35</em>. Let’s take that apart: A year ago, nobody would have predicted that Daniel Bryan would be a heel champion <em>or</em> Kofi Kingston would be a main event challenger, and nobody in their right mind would have put money on the parlay. Along with Roman Reigns’ inspiring return from fighting leukemia to take on Drew McIntyre, Bryan-Kingston is a match that proves the most magical aspects of pro wrestling are the parts that don’t go according to script. And if that parlay pays off, it could bode well for the future of all up-and-coming 5-foot-somethings. </p>
<div class="c-float-left"><aside id="9HG3Xi"><div data-anthem-component="readmore" data-anthem-component-data='{"stories":[{"title":"Daniel Bryan Is Back! Now What?","url":"https://www.theringer.com/2018/3/21/17147326/daniel-bryan-return-wwe-wrestlemania-34"}]}'></div></aside></div>
<p id="BEeeBN">Up until late March 2018, we all assumed Bryan—a <a href="https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-sports/daniel-bryans-house-of-yes-107333/">self-made phenomenon</a> who’d hung it up three years earlier rather than worsen chronic neck injuries—would never compete again. That changed with one <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HGmxPqR7e0o">shocking announcement of medical clearance</a>, and after easing in with a low-key feud against now-exiled giant Big Cass, Bryan issued a statement of intent last November with an epic heel turn against then–WWE Champion AJ Styles. </p>
<div id="Kji6iN"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-3MX5nyk3hk?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="sWKBiJ">He has since set about proselytizing the virtues of veganism and environmentalism, ostensible moral goods that skew villainous in their ardency (and delivery). And man, do people hate him. As if begrudging audiences the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1jNBk1k21LE">simple pleasures of arena concession food</a> and lecturing fans about lethargy weren’t heretical enough, he <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPjArk_p-vY">trashed the traditional title belt</a> in favor of <a href="http://cdn3.whatculture.com/images/2019/01/21c7059d29f2fe5c-600x338.jpg">something</a> Ron Swanson and Woody Harrelson might have co-fashioned. Then the self-appointed granola guru got himself a disciple in the form of ex-Wyatt Family flock member turned ex-Bludgeon Brother Erick Rowan, whose <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Mco6avaKCE">current aura</a> is best described as black-metal lumberjack. </p>
<p id="in2X3E">Contrast that with New Day principal and—as we’ve been told roughly twice per hour of <em>SmackDown </em>for the past two months—11-year WWE veteran (and numerous-time U.S./Intercontinental/Tag Team Champion) Kofi Kingston. As 2018 expired, Kingston and his New Day mates Big E and Xavier Woods were still spreading joy and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=APSqp8JDWWw">pancakes</a> to the world. Kingston was happily wowing crowds from coast to coast with his athleticism and entertaining them with his once-dormant <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/SquaredCircle/comments/95h8ii/smackdown_spoilers_the_new_day_can_do_everything/">antic wit</a>. New Day even mixed in a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rztrcgq-GGs">fifth stretch as <em>SmackDown </em>tag champs</a> for good measure (defeating, as it happens, Rowan and his partner Luke Harper in their last stand as Bludgeon Bros.). But despite their success and broad appeal, it was happenstance that gave Kofi an angle on the belt. When NXT call-up Mustafa Ali got hurt against Randy Orton in February, Kingston got the call to take his place in the <em>Elimination Chamber </em>match for Bryan’s title. First, he had to help kick off a <em>SmackDown </em>gauntlet match to determine the lucky final entrant in said <em>Chamber </em>match. His first of what would ultimately be four successive opponents that evening? None other than Daniel Bryan. But for Kofi, it was nothing short of a new day in his career, yes it was.</p>
<div id="muENVJ"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WJ53IJjyZZY?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<h4 id="kR5Wn9">Chapter 1</h4>
<p id="J8Rfv2">In hindsight, Kingston’s push might have been the plan as soon as Ali was felled. Kofi commenced said <em>SmackDown </em>gauntlet with a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7B-_udoyaoo">clean 1-2-3 over Bryan</a>, before rampaging through Jeff Hardy, Samoa Joe, and AJ Styles. He’d come up short against final foe Randy Orton, assuring that Kingston had simultaneously earned the fans’ adulation—and the backing of his babyface peers—and walked into <em>Elimination Chamber </em>as a compelling underdog who fell just short of a Tuesday-night miracle. By the time <a href="https://youtu.be/ylcmIFx83yU">Kingston got even with Orton</a>, leaving him alone with Bryan in the ring, #KofiMania was officially running wild throughout Houston’s Toyota Center. This time, the champ notched his own fair-and-square knockout blow, and very stealthily, a genuine rivalry was born. </p>
<h4 id="AXZk0E">Next Chapter<strong> </strong>
</h4>
<p id="199WnY">The subsequent <em>SmackDown </em>featured a serviceable six-man tag pitting the <em>Chamber </em>participants—Kingston, Styles, and Hardy—opposite evildoers Bryan, Orton, and Samoa Joe. Notably, the former trio won when <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dlqL3aQgNoI">Kingston pinned Bryan clean</a> on national TV for the second time in seven days. Woods and Big E propped their partner up on their shoulders to <a href="https://youtu.be/Yjff7tS8MxY?t=411">end-credits-of–<em>Teen Wolf</em>–worthy</a> dramatic effect, and Shane McMahon made it official for March 10’s <em>Fastlane </em>PPV: Bryan vs. Kingston for the WWE Championship. </p>
<div id="5sY0Mg"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/gqh3cBE-Nf8?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="450B7u">Alas, Shane’s dad and company chairman Vince McMahon had other ideas, for reasons that remain murky at best. The 73-year-old tycoon came out in full “Mr. McMahon” flourish on the following week’s <em>SmackDown</em>, spoiled Kingston and Co.’s celebration and decreed that returning former Universal Champion Kevin Owens would replace Kingston in order to provide fans with “the highest-caliber competition.” And so it was that, between earnest vignettes highlighting Black History Month, WWE’s top executive took away an African American performer’s rightful spot and handed it to a Caucasian man from Canada who hadn’t wrestled in months. The innuendo lingered as New Day were <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BieZziGyKc4">dispatched to India</a> IRL for a goodwill promotional appearance, and hence were absent from competition on the go-home <em>SmackDown </em>before <em>Fastlane</em>. (As added insult, Ali was inserted into Owens vs. Bryan, though Bryan came out on top.) No worries, though, because McMahon and New Day would be back on March 19, at which point <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XMjkjyWjNY">Vince belittled Big E and Woods</a> (“You shut your mouth”) and further vexed Kofi—not to mention sent his amassing faithful into a tizzy—by offering a devil’s bargain: Plow through Orton, Joe, Sheamus, Cesaro, and Rowan in what was becoming this story’s signature—a gauntlet match—and Bryan is all yours at <em>Mania</em>. Adding a personal dimension, McMahon also condescended to Kingston, clueing him in that Bryan viewed him as nothing more than a “B-plus player.” For all but those with worrisome memory-retention issues, the <a href="https://www.sportskeeda.com/wwe/wwe-youre-a-b-player-daniel-bryan">bitter irony</a> was hard to swallow. </p>
<h4 id="eidVcD">Final Chapter</h4>
<p id="eqpQsL">Fast-forward to the March 19 gauntlet, and hoorah! Kingston wins and is going to <em>WrestleMania</em>! Sort of. After a climactic roll-up of Orton—who stands to be a likely adversary in the wings should Kofi come out of <em>Mania </em>as champ—party pooper and possible racist oppressor Mr. McMahon (the alter ego, to be clear) struts his stuff and kills the buzz. He <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YzZYdcBOkFc">banishes Big E and Woods backstage</a> and brings out a ring-fresh Bryan as the final boss of Kofi’s game. Bryan lands the running knee, picks up the victory at Kingston’s expense, and the man who’d essentially been made over as the new “old” Daniel Bryan was again skipped over—with prejudice. </p>
<div id="emYga2"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZO6YQ8JTKQw?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="n47QlV">Fortunately, Kofi’s New Day compadres had his back, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3SwCs42l1M">commiserating later that night</a> about whether to pack up their brotherly love rather than contend with the fact that WWE’s “glass ceiling is still there.” (It’s a bone of contention that trades far more on past perceptions of McMahon and WWE’s racial exclusion than a scan of current and recent title holders would suggest, giving the company creative cover to go there now.) As you can surmise by this column’s very existence, New Day didn’t quit. But Big E and Woods were forced to fight for Kofi’s honor by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9OKAOsrYNIY&t=65s">completing a tag gauntlet</a> on the March 26 episode of <em>SmackDown</em>, a scant 12 days prior to <em>Mania </em>itself. (Such scenarios are, after all, far more expeditious than litigation.) An ever-expanding entourage of well-wishers crowded Kofi as he watched from a backstage flat screen, and to the surprise of no one but the delight of millions, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3v0fc03yCU">New Day persevered</a> by defeating—you guessed it—Bryan and Rowan, via countout no less. A motley crew of lurkers including tenuous babyfaces Miz and Kevin Owens clapped and crowed approval. All the dastardly, deck-stacking Mr. McMahon could do was make Bryan vs. Kingston at <em>Mania </em>official and mundanely wonder aloud, “Can a B-plus player beat Daniel Bryan at <em>WrestleMania </em>for the WWE Championship?” That would, literally, be the last remaining unanswered question. </p>
<h4 id="HzugT8">Postscript</h4>
<p id="VHVIqk">When Mr. McMahon taunted Kofi that he’d only make the Hall of Fame as a member of New Day, that was all but foreshadowing his assured solo spot down the road. But a true <em>Mania </em>moment, hoisting that eco-abomination of a belt high in triumph, would make the issue a formality. And Bryan, who despite his solid work rate and commitment to character since coming back, is still ultimately playing with house money. If he’d never stepped down from his post as <em>SmackDown </em>GM, his enshrinement in WWE’s ceremonial annals and wrestling lore still would have been a lock. Having said that, Bryan’s current tenure with the belt has been a great one, maybe the best yet for a man who saw so many prior reigns cut short by aches and pains. </p>
<p class="c-end-para" id="1JDEZT">If Kofi hadn’t taken the world by storm these past several weeks, it’d be hard to figure anyone dethroning Daniel any time soon. But Kofi did, and ever since WWE acquiesced to critical mass by inserting Bryan into the <em>Mania XXX </em>main event five years ago, there’s been a bit more give-and-take between the peoples’ will and creative plans. New Day has been such a steadying and satisfying fixture on <em>SmackDown </em>(and, at other junctures, <em>Raw</em>), so it’s hard to fathom the trio reaching its logical end. But maybe it doesn’t have to. That’s for the creatives to figure out. All Bryan and Kofi have to do is go out and prove once and for all what they’ve each explicitly reiterated in character over the years and made plain by their very longevity: heart, talent, and total dedication loom larger than the most awesome 7-footer.</p>
<aside id="NadbCy"><div data-anthem-component="newsletter" data-anthem-component-data='{"slug":"ringer_newsletter"}'></div></aside>
https://www.theringer.com/2019/4/1/18290496/wrestlemania-35-match-book-daniel-bryan-vs-kofi-kingstonKenny Herzog2019-03-29T05:40:00-04:002019-03-29T05:40:00-04:00‘WrestleMania 35’ Match Book: Roman Reigns vs. Drew McIntyre
<figure>
<img alt="" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/EQKSMkUbSn2LIzqf7B9JOmMeJ6k=/208x0:2875x2000/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/63318733/herzog_reigns_mcintyre_wwe_ringer.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>WWE/Ringer illustration</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>A semiscientific breakdown of the resurgent Big Dog and Scottish Psychopath’s pending slugfest</p> <p id="tAOItC">In case you’ve had WWE programming on mute for the past several weeks, <em>WrestleMania 35 </em>is fast upon us, which means it is our eminent duty to periodically roll out excruciatingly detailed previews of each individual match in the month-plus leading up to April 7. It is, to be pointed, <em>The Ringer</em>’s <em>WrestleMania </em>Match Book.</p>
<p id="nGhl0u">As of this writing, the card for professional wrestling’s biggest night has swelled to feature confirmed clashes in the double digits, a good chunk of which <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/14/18265568/the-wrestlemania-35-match-book">we’ve already covered in depth</a>. And our latest pit stop lands us at the doorstep of a clash between two men who may well be pinching themselves to even be participating: recent cancer survivor Roman Reigns and rejuvenated Scottish Psycopath Drew McIntyre. As has become customary in this series, the following is our finest effort at distilling the participants’ dovetailing fates, deducing why we care and who, in this instance, will prove they are the true “Chosen One.”</p>
<h3 id="rII7aO">
<em>WrestleMania </em>Match Book, Chapter 6: Roman Reigns vs. Drew McIntyre</h3>
<h4 id="Hlo0UY">The Prologue</h4>
<p id="qxj8Cv">It’s not being billed as such, but this is very much a tale of two odysseys. There’s Drew McIntyre, the so-called “Scottish Psychopath,” who began his wrestling career at the tender age of 15 and first debuted on WWE TV in the fall of 2007 against a young Zack Ryder (then performing under the alias Brett Major). </p>
<div id="aWxL0R"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/642bj3EBU_A?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="tneJpK">After toggling between <em>SmackDown </em>and developmental promotion Florida Championship Wrestling (later NXT), McIntyre reemerged on the main roster in late summer ’09 as <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBLx0ItTeUA">Vince McMahon’s “Chosen One.”</a> It was a gimmick, but even so, such monikers aren’t handed out willy-nilly. McIntyre was on the path to success. A 150-plus-day reign as Intercontinental Champion ensued, followed by an alliance and tag-title run with Cody Rhodes. </p>
<p id="QIbRqz">Alas, fortunes rise and fall in WWE, and McIntyre soon got lost in the shuffle of rising antagonist talent like NXT-alum stable the Nexus. Heading into ’12, he was once on and off television, and three years removed from receiving Mr. McMahon’s on-air blessing, McIntyre was ingloriously installed as one-third of comedy squash troupe 3MB alongside fellow castaways Heath Slater and Jinder Mahal. </p>
<div id="k0Xyc7"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/VGbXraf3yXA?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="LiaXhG">McIntyre was released from the company in June ’14, nearly seven years after his <em>SmackDown </em>debut. And it was the best thing that ever happened to him. McIntyre—back to going by his given name, Drew Galloway—ran roughshod over indie feds like Evolve, as well as second-tier majors like Impact, earning him a second chance to make a first impression: a contract in WWE developmental territory (and hotbed of wrestling nerddom) NXT, where he and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1J21ORSya30">his colossal Claymore Kick</a> finisher creamed the competition en route to a championship. </p>
<div id="ZzjZWp"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/nprXG-RjSJ0?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="tllGGu">In April ’18, McIntyre—far more filled out and furious than in his previous WWE tenures—<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uQAp9KvM2TE">reasserted himself on <em>Raw</em></a><em> </em>as Dolph Ziggler’s muscle. Once that partnership (and a tangential, fleeting alliance with Braun Strowman) dissolved, McIntyre dotted around the program, buddying up with other main-event baddies like Baron Corbin and Bobby Lashley, picking on Strowman, Finn Bálor, and just about any babyface in a comparable state of creative limbo. But heading into <em>WrestleMania</em>, a path had cleared, and he was the perfect man left standing to take issue with a returning superstar who literally fought for his life to even make it back to the ring.</p>
<h4 id="CXLcUy">Prologue, Part 2</h4>
<p id="mf9onF">Where to begin with Roman Reigns? Well, it was a damp and humid day (one assumes) in Pensacola, Florida, on May 25, 1985 … but I digress. Let’s begin again in 2006, when Joe Anoa‘i is a highly skilled senior defensive lineman for Georgia Tech—<a href="https://www.sports-reference.com/cfb/players/joe-anoai-1.html">40 tackles and 4.5 sacks!</a>—with an even more impressive family tree of formidable Samoan pro wrestlers (Wild Samoan Sika is his dad; late WWE superstar Rosey was his brother; the Usos are his cousins). So when the NFL didn’t pan out, FCW—the precursor to NXT—came calling. Anoa‘i initially performed as Leakee (oh the days when <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8vIdQnO1P0">he and Ricardo Rodriguez</a> shared the same rarefied air). Skip ahead again to late ’12, when in NXT, Leakee has been <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvFEK3S1dmc">rechristened Roman Reigns</a>. He’s also far more stoic and sturdy than Leakee was permitted to be, making him the perfect anchor for a threesome featuring himself and NXT colleagues Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins, collectively known as the Shield. </p>
<div id="2uBnEs"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/KR8I3X21wrE?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="TcMyHe">Reigns had barely tried on his new gimmick alter ego for size when the Shield debuted at <em>Survivor Series </em>’12, which in retrospect may not have been in his best interest. Despite the group’s great popularity from the jump, fans soon soured on Reigns’s quick ascent up the solo ranks, picking up on the faintest whiff of nepotism as Roman—freed from his obligations as Shield enforcer after Rollins betrayed his mates—vaulted into immediate World Heavyweight Championship contention in the summer of 2014. The subsequent several years of his divisive dominance have <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2018/7/26/17614448/wwe-acute-angle-roman-reigns">been documented on this website</a> and in just about every other corner of the online wrestling commentariat. The short version is: WWE loved him, fans hated him, and either way he was money in the bank. </p>
<aside id="i5O4GO"><div data-anthem-component="readmore" data-anthem-component-data='{"stories":[{"title":"What Makes Roman Reigns So Polarizing?","url":"https://www.theringer.com/2018/7/26/17614448/wwe-acute-angle-roman-reigns"},{"title":"How WWE Failed Roman Reigns","url":"https://www.theringer.com/2018/4/12/17228664/roman-reigns-wrestlemania-34-brock-lesnar-ronda-rousey"},{"title":"The Night Roman Reigns Became Joe Anoa’i","url":"https://www.theringer.com/2018/10/23/18014266/roman-reigns-leukemia-wwe-monday-night-raw-seth-rollins-dean-ambrose-heel-turn"}]}'></div></aside><p id="NFmufj">But everything spun to a dead stop on October 22, when Reigns—humbling himself as Joe Anoa‘i—announced that he was <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSSLHiWpe0k">suffering from a recurrence of leukemia</a>, an illness most of us had no idea he’d combatted earlier in life. This was no story line. It was actual life-or-death. And in what was truly a miracle—one awesome enough to convert the majority of onlookers into Roman devotees for the long haul—Reigns <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DbNEyKAsxvc">came back to <em>Raw </em>just over a month ago</a>. He was in remission and ready to transition back from one fight to another, one that may cause some bumps and bruises but ultimately reminds him he’s alive. </p>
<h4 id="3iVmta">Chapter 1</h4>
<p id="mMUOSt">The night Reigns returned, McIntyre was in the midst of a typical <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ih3guv6E9hA">numbers-game assault</a>, this time on Dean Ambrose. The Lunatic Fringe had spent much of 2019 as a paranoid villain squaring off against Rollins—they were pals until Reigns went out and Ambrose turned on Rollins; it’s a whole thing—but it had since become public knowledge that the real-life Jonathan <a href="https://www.thewrap.com/dean-ambrose-to-leave-wwe-april-wrestlemania/">Good was parting ways with WWE</a> in a matter of weeks. Cut to Reigns and Rollins bailing Ambrose out, the three amigos putting old wounds to rest and reforming the Shield for one last ride at annual <em>Mania </em>warm-up, <em>Fastlane</em>. It <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhiFQ8n4btY">was pretty sweet</a>. Although McIntyre, who laid down for the Shield’s victory lap with partners Baron Corbin and Bobby Lashley, was left with a bad taste in his mouth.</p>
<h4 id="AZkPXe">Next Chapter <strong> </strong>
</h4>
<p id="uEkLVt">Post-<em>Fastlane</em>, Rollins shifted his focus to <em>Mania</em>’s men’s main event, his <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2019/2/25/18236602/wrestlemania-35-match-book-brock-lesnar-vs-seth-rollins">pursuit of Brock Lesnar’s Universal Championship</a>. That left Ambrose, who’d been getting paid to get guys over since WWE shared word of his imminent departure, as McIntyre’s ideal prey. On the March 11 episode of <em>Raw</em>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Qx_6YEbLJc">McIntyre took out Reigns</a>, compelling Ambrose to challenge Drew to a Falls Count Anywhere clash that same night (cause, ya know, he’s a lunatic). It <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxtdPVK_4h0">didn’t go well for Dean</a>, but that made Roman real mad. With that generous assist from Mr. Ambrose, Reigns and McIntyre’s business got really personal. </p>
<h4 id="V54jBt">Final Chapter</h4>
<p id="Xw6OtT">We can’t act as if Reigns hadn’t “outed” himself as “Joe” five months ago, no more than NXT audiences could black out their memories of the artist known as Leakee six years prior to that. So in the spirit of reusing rather than losing good material, McIntyre cut a promo of promos the past two weeks looking past the facade of Roman Reigns and speaking <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxtdPVK_4h0">directly to the survivor Joe Anoa‘i</a>. A challenge was issued for <em>WrestleMania</em>, one Reigns finally accepted after McIntyre took the ill-advised overstep of talking smack about <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=thq8U4jCRz4">his adversary’s wife and children</a>. (Did we learn nothing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=thF3thylQtQ">from Bray Wyatt?</a>) As of this writing, McIntyre—who Claymore’d Reigns’s lights out once the match was confirmed and ended that evening’s <em>Raw </em>by serving up an encore of his beating to Ambrose—has established himself as the callous, conquering prick he was always chosen to be. And Reigns has appeared unstoppable and prone in equal measure, enduring the believable growing pains of someone climbing back from sickness and improbable odds.</p>
<h4 id="WOcygI">Postscript</h4>
<p id="T9n308">The heat got turned up on this one in a big way since the Shield said their goodbyes coming off of <em>Fastlane</em>. McIntyre needed this more than anyone, lest it appear that—as in his 3MB days—he was only as good (or bad) as the company he kept. It’s not easy to stare into a lens on national television and punch down at someone for having battled cancer and clawed their way back into a <em>Mania </em>moment. And Roman is a true team player for putting his personal struggles out there to help heighten the stakes. Expect a fluid, physical bout that—in all likelihood—has only one realistic outcome (Reigns for the feel-good W), but may not even be the extent of Roman’s <em>Mania </em>presence in particular. It’s never too soon to assume there’ll be some drama with Rollins if he should win the Universal title—and let’s not forget that <a href="https://www.wwe.com/videos/roman-reigns-vs-brock-lesnar-wwe-world-heavyweight-championship-match-wrestlemania-31">Rollins intervened</a> in Reigns’s attempt at Lesnar’s belt at <em>WrestleMania 31</em>. I’m sure Reigns hasn’t forgotten.</p>
<p class="c-end-para" id="vLO7VE">Meanwhile, we’d all be wise to watch and appreciate the tableau: two Chosen Ones—the current model, slightly dinged up, and the previous generation, with a lot of miles but an engine that purrs—battling for the chance to carry that symbolic mantle into the new era of WWE. It’s an absolutely surreal scene—a once-polarizing figure, freshly recuperated and cancer-free, fending off a concerted threat from a patient veteran who has transcended the indignities of 3MB. Behold <em>Mania</em>’s truest spectacle of second chances. </p>
<aside id="0D2vpc"><div data-anthem-component="newsletter" data-anthem-component-data='{"slug":"ringer_newsletter"}'></div></aside>
https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/29/18286181/wrestlemania-roman-reigns-drew-mcintyre-previewKenny Herzog2019-03-22T05:50:00-04:002019-03-22T05:50:00-04:00‘WrestleMania 35’ Preview: AJ Styles vs. Randy Orton
<figure>
<img alt="" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/chuOCftcdKFocrjnXSehUPyOKRQ=/137x0:2804x2000/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/63280252/herzog_orton_styles_wwe_ringer.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>WWE/Ringer illustration</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>A semiscientific breakdown of the Viper and the Phenomenal One’s clash of titans</p> <p id="tmqtUA">In case you’ve had WWE programming on mute for the past several weeks, <em>WrestleMania 35 </em>is fast upon us, which means it is our eminent duty to periodically roll out excruciatingly detailed previews of each individual match in the month-plus leading up to April 7. It is, to be pointed, <em>The Ringer</em>’s <em>WrestleMania </em>Match Book.</p>
<p id="EBL72J">As of this writing, and with <em>Fastlane </em>in the rear view, the card for professional wrestling’s biggest night has swelled to feature several confirmed clashes, a good chunk of which <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/14/18265568/the-wrestlemania-35-match-book">we’ve already covered in depth</a>. And our latest pit stop lands us at the doorstep of a clash between two big names who got to WWE supremacy in radically different ways: third-generation legend Randy Orton and indie-bred <em>SmackDown </em>figurehead AJ Styles. As has become customary in this series, the following is our finest effort at distilling the participants’ dovetailing fates, deducing why we care, and who, in this instance, will lay claim to building the foundation for Tuesday nights. </p>
<h3 id="92doZV">
<em>WrestleMania </em>Match Book, Chapter 5: AJ Styles vs. Randy Orton</h3>
<h4 id="zYobbT">The Prologue</h4>
<p id="ySnkGn">If ever a <em>WrestleMania </em>story wrote itself, this would be it. In one corner, we have Randy Orton, who will have just turned 39 heading into the April 7 extravaganza. As he reminded everyone in a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWWQSaqRkwU">face-to-face with his opponent</a> on a recent <em>SmackDown</em>, the Viper has been stalking prey and piling up championships in WWE for 17 years. It’s his divine birthright, after all, as son of Hall of Famer and inaugural <em>Mania </em>participant Bob Orton Jr.--not to mention grandson of onetime WWWF championship contender <a href="http://slam.canoe.com/Slam/Wrestling/2006/07/17/1689075.html">Bob Orton Sr</a>. (His uncle, Barry, also wrestled occasionally under the thinly veiled <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3XerhYGVMPI">alias Barry O</a>, though he was most notorious for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWSxuE3Aepc">squaring off against Vince McMahon</a> on <em>Donahue </em>regarding sexual harassment in the industry.) </p>
<div id="R4VCU6"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 75.0019%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/wM3yTF0hI0Q?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="0c6xWx">Orton enlisted in the Marines after high school but was <a href="https://twitter.com/RandyOrton/status/240616171731308545">discharged for bad conduct</a> in 1999 (hence <a href="https://www.backstageol.com/movies/usmc-praise-wwes-vince-mcmahon-after-firing-randy-orton/">no starring role in <em>The Marine</em></a><em> </em>for him). With that ill-advised detour behind him, Orton took the path well traveled and laced up for training as a pro wrestler, learning the ropes from local St. Louis fixtures <a href="https://www.riverfronttimes.com/stlouis/drop-kick-gorgeous/Content?oid=2460796">like Ron Powers and Gary Jackson</a> at the city’s <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/03/us/03wrestle.html">storied South Broadway Athletic Club</a>. By 2001, he was <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9t7XAFlwWXU">signed to WWE’s developmental arm</a>, Ohio Valley Wrestling, and as of spring 2002, Orton was called up to <em>Raw </em>and appearing both in <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rQ6LhTDKJZM">introductory backstage vignettes</a> and high-profile matches against senior talent. Much of Orton’s immediate trajectory was covered in <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/7/18254528/wrestlemania-35-match-book-triple-h-vs-batista">this previous Match Book entry</a> on his former Evolution stablemates Triple H and Batista, but to be brief: Orton became WWE’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jod98DbKkxw">youngest World Champion</a> to that point in 2004, the first of 13 such title wins over the course of his career. He was, at various junctures, an <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1gXUXAB87k">indiscriminate Legend Killer</a>, leader of a gang of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w7_jTdBaP24">second-generation phenoms</a>, lone-warrior <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHiKZakLjqY">Apex Predator</a>, assassin <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ecHJf02lGN4">for the Cerebral Assassin</a>, and even a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWiYO5V2gjs">Wyatt family member</a>. As of 2019, the prodigal son has evolved into an institution in his own right, and as WWE’s longest-tenured full-time performer, he’s out to protect his legacy.</p>
<h4 id="CjmrnB">Prologue, Part 2</h4>
<p id="bFjIQV">Coming into this bout, AJ Styles is being presented as the counterpoint to Orton’s magical carpet ride of a career. In that same <em>SmackDown </em>promo from a few weeks back, Styles leaned into his reputation as former king of the indies, who made a surprise sidestep into WWE on the back nine of his career and—perhaps unexpectedly—rocketed up its totem pole. It is true that Styles, from Gainesville, Georgia (born Allen Jones and delivered, ironically, on a military base while his father served in the Marines), first exploded onto WWE’s big stage at the relatively ripe age of 38, and at 41 (turning 42 in June), has <a href="https://twitter.com/AJStylesOrg/status/1107725115599540225?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1107725115599540225&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.skysports.com%2Fwwe%2Fnews%2F14203%2F11669953%2Faj-styles-signs-new-wwe-contract">apparently only just begun</a> authoring his complete story in the major leagues. </p>
<p id="doLJvU">Although way back in 2001, while Orton was honing his skills in OVW, Styles did get a one-off shot at joining Vince McMahon’s army. Styles had actually signed on with WCW shortly before they were bought out by WWE, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWjAro6C4OA">appearing on TV</a> in early 2001 as part of the high-flying duo Air Raid. Post-buyout, Styles was offered <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LnmTL8m-xPE">a nontelevised <em>Raw </em>dark match</a> against journeyman Rick Michaels (who is, incidentally, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MGWA2QWXF88">still at it</a>). </p>
<div id="jck4el"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 75.0019%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/LnmTL8m-xPE?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="ttUXzH">Alas, WWE opted to let Styles go, but the athletic midsize standout—who had already toiled with obscure promotions for three years before his break in WCW—dutifully returned to his roots. In 2002, Styles hit his stride in earnest, performing regularly (and at times concurrently) for fledgling brands TNA (now Impact) and Ring of Honor. (In fact, in his first match in 2002 for TNA, he <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxs1qXPimSw">teamed with Jerry Lynn</a>, who, not long before, was pitted against Orton in OVW, which—in a fully circular coincidence—is now Impact’s developmental auxiliary.) Styles, along with peers including CM Punk, Samoa Joe, and Daniel Bryan, defined an era in opposition to WWE, which had more or less monopolized mainstream attention to the sport after swallowing WCW whole. </p>
<p id="hZFYSs">After a decade-plus of dominance, particularly during his peak period atop TNA/Impact, Styles made a strategic leap overseas and joined New Japan Pro Wrestling (and, in doing so, came home to ROH, which has long been allied and shared rosters with NJPW). And from 2014 to 2016, at an age when other big names would be dialing down their time on the road, Styles caught fire internationally like never before, spearheading NJPW’s supergroup <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8wa_vvf_DWY">The Bullet Club</a> and tasting gold twice as IWGP World (no small feat, pun intended, for a comparatively undersized Westerner in Japan). By winter 2015, word had materialized that Styles was Stamford-bound, and so it was that <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubZR-cfkSDQ">on January 24, 2016, at the <em>Royal Rumble</em></a>, the once-rejected prospect blew minds with his entrance at No. 3. In his three-plus years since staring down Roman Reigns atop that <em>Rumble </em>ramp, Styles has held court as two-time WWE Champion, two-time U.S. Champion, and the self-proclaimed successor for John Cena—whom he defeated several times—as <em>SmackDown</em>’s “Face That Runs the Place.” He has made himself synonymous with WWE’s Tuesday show like no other since the Rock, the very man whose catchphrase coined its title (now <em>there’s </em>a dream match).</p>
<h4 id="p0kMpF">Chapter 1</h4>
<p id="LvOZuU">If we’ve consented to collective amnesia about Orton’s woeful wanderlust into the Wyatt family compound, then we’ve almost certainly forgotten that’s where the helix detailing Orton and Styles’s shared story-line DNA first truly entwined. (They had, previously, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSlSFq3IGf0">participated in multiman mosh pits</a>.) Orton had won 2017’s <em>Royal Rumble </em>match and earned a <em>WrestleMania </em>title match while still seemingly under Bray Wyatt’s spell. But before you could say, “Holy house of horrors,” he pulled a “gotcha!” on the bayou bogeyman (who won his first WWE Championship at <em>Elimination Chamber </em>in mid-February), <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kU-ShHKItVE">burning his whole damn residence down</a>, thereby executing one more heroic face turn. One snag: Orton had already relinquished his title opportunity rather than threaten Wyatt’s reign (all part of the slow ruse, you see). No biggie. Randy simply had to surmount none other than AJ Styles—who was in the final leg of his last heel stretch to date—in a number-one-contender match on <em>SmackDown </em>that March to regain his <em>Mania </em>slot, placing Wyatt right back in his crosshairs. Genius! Orton won clean, took down Wyatt at <em>Mania </em>and captured his 13th (and, very possibly, last) world title, while Styles played antagonist-turned-graceful-winner against prodigal son Shane McMahon. As of mid-April 2017, Orton and Styles were <em>SmackDown</em>’s two preeminent good guys, on parallel but distinct tracks. </p>
<h4 id="sW3ItF">Next Chapter </h4>
<p id="DcG22h">You can’t keep a good heel down for long, and by the middle of 2018, Orton had effectively been rebooted as <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_0loaRLGDLg">Legend Killer 2.0</a>, so it only followed that he’d seek to sully the reputation of an elusive, once-in-a-generation peer. And it just so happened that Styles’s 371-day second tenure with the WWE title had concluded in November via a Daniel Bryan blow to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3MX5nyk3hk&t=65s">the balls.</a> In the aftermath of that loss, and a subsequent defeat to Bryan at this year’s <em>Royal Rumble</em>, Styles was somewhat creatively exposed, in need of a nemesis who could measure up to his popularity and help carry a feud built on pride and passion rather than another shiny object around one of their waists. His and Orton’s fates had finally intersected.</p>
<h4 id="3JYedf">Final Chapter</h4>
<p id="JCp3cS">It’s easy to overlook that Styles only qualified for his <em>Rumble </em>rematch by pinning Orton in a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7RWDDKFISNM"><em>SmackDown </em>fatal five-way</a><em> </em>on New Year’s Day. Naturally, that moving part was far from lost on Orton, who launched his campaign of comeuppance against Styles with an <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XP4f7HE1Tw">absolutely awesome RKO</a> at<em> Elimination Chamber</em> (neither man would win the titular cage bout). They remained peripherally <a href="https://www.wwe.com/videos/aj-styles-jeff-hardy-kofi-kingston-vs-daniel-bryan-randy-orton-samoa-joe-smackdown-live-feb-19-2019">in each other’s orbits</a> until the final <em>SmackDown </em>of February, when <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jhiIuvXdhP4">Orton outright put Styles on blast</a> (or, more accurately, brazenly dismissed him) for—in his view—misapprehending his place in the Tuesday-night pecking order. Styles could tolerate that, but no so much when Orton doubled down and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRuBp7FDQcE">questioned his backbone</a>. So at <em>Fastlane </em>that Sunday, Randy <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBP7U7Fv8kE">tasted a flying forearm</a>—outta nowhere. Cut to the aforementioned, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWWQSaqRkwU">heated promo work</a> running down <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hezzpcpd9-I">each man’s credentials and contrasting goalposts</a> on the way to greatness. It is, in Styles’s own words (or those of whoever wrote them), a showdown between “first-round pick” Randy and “walk-on” AJ. By midnight on April 8, we’ll know decisively who calls the shots. </p>
<h4 id="ZPK7aC">Postscript</h4>
<p class="c-end-para" id="GXTEi4">This is a great look for both guys, a legends match between two fully active A-listers who genuinely could not have had more disparate experiences from their first steps inside a wrestling ring to this first-ever singles slugfest. As Styles has pointed out in his interviews of late, Orton is no less looming and lithe than he was as a snot-nosed rookie in Evolution. And as everyone now understands, timing and circumstance are all that prolonged Styles’s pole position as an undisputed all-time great. A respectful handshake no matter who triumphs isn’t hard to picture, but anticipating which man’s arm will be raised is where things get satisfyingly hard to predict. With Styles having <a href="https://twitter.com/AJStylesOrg/status/1107725115599540225">publicly cheered his new contract</a>, a win and renewed push toward top-tier championship status (maybe on <em>Raw </em>as an Intercontinental threat?) makes perfectly good sense. And as a 13-time world champ, Orton needn’t do much more than show his face and come off as committed to meet expectations. But there’s every reason to believe this long-in-the-making match we didn’t even realize we needed will exceed them. </p>
<p id="cyQXv8"></p>
<p id="csQweB"></p>
https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/22/18276453/wrestlemania-35-preview-aj-styles-vs-randy-ortonKenny Herzog2019-03-20T12:27:50-04:002019-03-20T12:27:50-04:00‘WrestleMania 35’ Preview: Ronda Rousey vs. Becky Lynch vs. Charlotte Flair
<figure>
<img alt="Ronda Rousey, Becky Lynch, and Charlotte Flair" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/_83g0GnsqMeRXuAPJoXec5FB62Y=/167x0:2834x2000/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/63269859/herzog_rousey_lynch_flair_wwe_ringer.0.jpg" />
</figure>
<p>A semi-scientific breakdown of the first-ever women’s match to main-event wrestling’s biggest night</p> <p id="FLELKS">In case you’ve had WWE programming on mute for the past several weeks, <em>WrestleMania 35 </em>is fast upon us, which means it is our eminent duty to periodically roll out excruciatingly detailed previews of each individual match in the month-plus leading up to April 7. It is, to be pointed, <em>The Ringer</em>’s <em>WrestleMania </em>Match Book.</p>
<p id="nwg8I7">As of this writing, and with <em>Fastlane </em>in the rearview, the card for professional wrestling’s biggest night has swelled to feature several confirmed clashes, a few of which <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/14/18265568/the-wrestlemania-35-match-book">we’ve already covered in depth</a>. But it’s high time we wended our way toward the riotous three-way main event among <em>Raw </em>Women’s Champion Ronda Rousey, Charlotte Flair and Becky Lynch. As has become customary in this series, the following is our finest effort at distilling the participants’ dovetailing fates, deducing why we care and taking a best guess at who will hoist that bejeweled belt high to close out wrestling’s starriest night. </p>
<div id="v1OAq1"><iframe src="https://open.spotify.com/embed-podcast/episode/1H1lVDjpQm6rCKksJ6WYu7" style="border: 0; width: 100%; height: 232px;" allowfullscreen="" allow="encrypted-media"></iframe></div>
<h3 id="kB4YoJ">
<em>WrestleMania </em>Match Book, Chapter 4: Ronda Rousey (c) vs. Becky Lynch vs. Charlotte Flair for the <em>Raw </em>Women’s Championship </h3>
<h4 id="76w8yW">The Prologue</h4>
<p id="xYCFgL">The Dublin-bred 32-year-old born Rebecca Quin was competing in the squared circle by age 15, having trained under no less than fellow countryman Fergal Devitt, a.k.a. the future Finn Bálor. Halfway across the world, another teenager named Ashley Fliehr had already made a splash on national television for World Championship Wrestling, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zndh9PLOd6I">coming to the aid (or trying to at least)</a> of her iconic real-life father Ric Flair. Over the next decade, their paths were wildly distinct. In 2006, Lynch—by then a known entity named Rebecca Knox—was sidelined after <a href="https://www.foxsportsasia.com/wwe/975410/becky-lynch-injury-2006/">suffering serious cranial-nerve damage</a> during a match in Germany. That’s when Lynch sojourned <a href="http://www.iftn.ie/actors/actors_database/sublinks_static/female/?act1=record&aid=81&rid=441&tpl=actors_dets&only=1&force=1">into the broader performing arts</a> (while making <a href="https://www.independent.ie/sport/other-sports/wwe/the-aer-lingus-flight-attendant-who-became-a-us-wrestling-champion-35044013.html">ends meet as a flight attendant</a> and a bartender, among other gigs) for the better part of a decade, until coming full squared-circle and <a href="https://www.herald.ie/entertainment/wrestler-rebecca-ready-to-take-on-the-world-29181218.html">signing with NXT in 2013</a>. </p>
<div class="c-float-left"><aside id="5CSNUb"><div data-anthem-component="readmore" data-anthem-component-data='{"stories":[{"title":"‘WrestleMania 35’ Preview: Triple H vs. Batista","url":"https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/7/18254528/wrestlemania-35-match-book-triple-h-vs-batista"},{"title":"‘WrestleMania 35’ Preview: Lesnar vs. Rollins","url":"https://www.theringer.com/2019/2/25/18236602/wrestlemania-35-match-book-brock-lesnar-vs-seth-rollins"},{"title":"‘WrestleMania 35’ Preview: The Miz vs. Shane McMahon","url":"https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/14/18265469/wrestlemania-35-match-book-miz-shane-mcmahon"}]}'></div></aside></div>
<p id="swMw3U">Around the time Lynch was first making strides as Rebecca Knox, Fliehr was first nabbing headlines for her volleyball skills, which she brandished as both a high school standout and <a href="https://appstatesports.com/news/1970/1/1/1541474.aspx">prize recruit at Appalachian State University</a>. By the end of the aughts, she’d ended her spiking days, graduated from North Carolina State and become <a href="https://www.ideafit.com/profile/ashley-fliehr">certified as a personal trainer</a>. But thanks to <a href="http://www.espn.com/espnw/culture/feature/article/17902184/in-their-own-words-leaders-wwe-women-revolution">a bit of nudging</a> from wrestler-turned-talent-exec John Laurinaitis and her brother Reid (who died in 2013), Ashley Fliehr signed with NXT in 2012 and began her metamorphosis into the Queen, Charlotte Flair.</p>
<h4 id="D5LV09">Prologue, Part 2</h4>
<p id="7f8DKK">Before “Rowdy” Ronda Rousey was a dominant <em>Raw </em>women’s champion, she’d established herself as one of professional combat sports’ biggest names—and biggest wrestling marks. She was a WWF fanatic <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=cLd0BgAAQBAJ&lpg=PR1&vq=wwe&pg=PA12#v=onepage&q=wwf&f=false">by age 3</a>. Even as she racked up signature accomplishments in other fighting arenas—Rousey was a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-bfKWSoQxUA">2008 Olympic medalist</a> in Judo and UFC’s first Bantamweight Women’s Champion by December 2012, fast becoming an international phenomenon—the hybrid athlete flirted with crossing over to sports entertainment. A rousing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HWDRdnvqTtU">cameo at <em>WrestleMania 31</em></a> sparked widespread speculation about not if, but when, Ronda would retire from UFC’s octagon and step between the ropes for WWE. Turns out sooner than anyone thought. After three years of utter rule over women’s MMA competition, Rousey was <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A4ObcztsOJY">dealt successive losses</a> in 2015 and 2016 by Holly Holm and Amanda Nunes, respectively. The following fall, UFC president <a href="https://sports.yahoo.com/ronda-rousey-still-not-retired-dana-white-doesnt-031844209--mma.html">Dana White publicly disavowed</a> the notion of Rousey returning to his promotion, a statement that may well have been a defense against her “surprise” appearance at WWE’s <em>Royal Rumble </em>in January ’18. The baddest woman on the planet was now a full-time professional wrestler. But in the years between her UFC and WWE debuts, Flair and Lynch had helped spearhead a women’s revolution.</p>
<div id="7ypWkl"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HV_L2uVbqFw?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<h4 id="6rLpzt">Chapter 1</h4>
<p id="o591NJ">Even if the women’s division was getting short shrift in the big leagues of WWE in the first half of the 2010s, NXT’s ranks were stacked. British supernova Paige and Australian upstart Emma were among the preeminent names in developmental at the time. But by 2014, Flair and Lynch had climbed the ladder, with the former becoming NXT women’s champion by toppling Natalya <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_2TMPY0_PU">in an instant classic</a>. On-screen, both performers ping-ponged from heel to fan favorite, dueling opposite one another other and in <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ih7xk4edH0A">various tag-team scenarios</a> involving rising stars Bayley and Sasha Banks. Those four women also gelled behind the scenes, dubbing themselves <a href="https://www.wwe.com/inside/wwe-divas/nxt-diva-roundtable">the Four Horsewomen</a>. The informal faction was a nod to <a href="https://www.wwe.com/superstars/the-four-horsemen">Flair’s dad Ric’s legendary stable</a>, though it would later serve as kindling for bad blood with then–UFC fixture Rousey (more on that in a bit). </p>
<p id="IjmxDe">Flair and Lynch took their most significant steps forward when they were called up simultaneously to <em>Raw </em>(along with Banks) and introduced by Stephanie McMahon as pillars of a new women’s revolution. They made up two-thirds of thrown-together trio Team PCB (the P being Paige). It was part of a broader shakeup in which some of the biggest female names—the Bellas, Banks, Naomi, Tamina, Alicia Fox—were placed in warring factions while WWE live-workshopped their individual potential. Fast-forward all of two months: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcBqnmQWTN8">Paige turned on her pals</a> C and B (tear), Charlotte reigned supreme and soon thereafter teased a scripted betrayal of real-life BFF Becky with the <a href="https://youtu.be/cbwwKDOrLjE?t=173">disingenuous pinky swear of doom</a>. </p>
<p id="cNaFyP">In the mode of her father, Flair would flip-flop from selfish tyrant to reformed baddie over the next few years. And like dear old dad, she’d never languish for long without gold around her waist (to date, Charlotte has claimed seven total women’s and diva’s championships). For a large chunk of 2016-17, she and Lynch competed on separate brands, allowing Lynch to flex her muscles against fresh NXT grads including Alexa Bliss and make her mark as inaugural <em>SmackDown </em>women’s champion. (Plus, she got to show her range in her <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OPDkSRhlnYU">turn as La Luchadora</a>.) That was, until Charlotte migrated back to <em>SmackDown </em>in April ’17, leading to her most historic title run thus far—a 147-day streak that included a somewhat surprising win over undefeated 2018 <em>Royal Rumble </em>winner Asuka at <em>WrestleMania 34</em>. Lynch, conversely, was pigeonholed in her role as good-natured also-ran: She lost ingloriously at 2017’s <em>Survivor Series </em>and got literally tossed aside in battle royals at the ensuing year’s <em>Royal Rumble </em>and <em>WrestleMania</em>. To quote the late, great Owen Hart, enough is enough. It was time for a change.</p>
<h4 id="nQuzZm">Chapter 2</h4>
<p id="3BODF6">As Charlotte shored up her legacy and Becky barely buoyed her head above water, Ronda Rousey experienced <a href="https://deadspin.com/ronda-rousey-can-t-act-does-it-matter-1823537884">some serious growing pains</a> in those several weeks spanning her post-<em>Rumble </em>debut. Rousey’s physical tools were bona fide, but WWE’s biggest mistake in handling her early on was asking her to carry the burden of being a garrulous babyface. Like many crossover athletes who preceded her, Rousey’s <a href="https://www.sbnation.com/2015/8/7/9116777/how-to-trash-talk-ronda-rousey-and-not-die">gift of improvisational mudslinging</a> within the claustrophobic quarters of UFC bouts, weigh-ins and deferential press opps did little to prepare her for connecting with an audience of tens of thousands of restless wrestling nuts assessing her every cadence and turn of phrase. Turns out her fists (and arms, and legs, and feet) did all the jousting for her at <em>Mania 34</em>, shutting up all her doubters within half a minute of being tagged in by partner Kurt Angle and unleashing hell on Stephanie McMahon and Triple H. </p>
<div id="uofr31"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0aan7Vtcco0?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="jXjwuO">Before that same summer’s end, Rousey was <em>Raw </em>women’s champion. And still is. As one victim after the next—Nia Jax, Ruby Riott, Sasha Banks, Mickie James, etc.—succumbed to Rousey’s righteous armbar, the champ’s bipartisan beatdowns were turning into rote exercises. Rousey’s abundance of success demanded that to keep our attention, WWE would have to mix things up.</p>
<h4 id="SBwVQm">Chapter 3</h4>
<p id="YbsTMm">Fast forward to July 2018. With Flair on the DL, Lynch started accumulating <em>SmackDown </em>victories, putting herself in line for a title match at <em>SummerSlam</em> against Carmella. But at the last minute, Charlotte reappeared and got inserted into the title match, justifiably irritating her buddy Lynch and teasing the fans with a reality-bending narrative: Charlotte did seem to have a monopoly on the main event, didn’t she? </p>
<p id="eq6cIY">Charlotte got the W at <em>SummerSlam</em>, and Lynch lost it. Her angst was justifiable, but her attitude represented a 180. She went on <em>SmackDown </em>and ripped into the fans, who, despite the ostensible heel turn, were thrilled with the change.</p>
<div id="BZFTy9"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/GDCfnWcjUWk?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="NuyPvJ">Nevertheless, Lynch stuck to the script, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-frjhmCVWjs">snatched gold from Charlotte</a> at <em>Hell in a Cell</em>, and sauntered around like a conquering despot. Heading into that November’s <em>Survivor Series</em>, she <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bk1rkdpJL6Y">declared herself “The Man”</a> in WWE, a statement of personal purpose, but also an acknowledgement of the company’s closing qualitative gender gap. (And not insignificantly, a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yjW9UXoKU2s">dig at Ric Flair</a>.) She was programmed into an inter-brand <em>Survivor Series </em>bout against <em>Raw </em>champ Rousey, and, it seemed, the occasion had arrived to prove it. </p>
<h4 id="RXs2Qr">Chapter 4</h4>
<p id="MYe3kW">That certifiable dream match between Lynch and Rousey was preempted by what could have been a complete nightmare for all involved. On the November 12, 2018, edition of <em>Raw</em>, Lynch led a <em>SmackDown </em>army in what’s become an “invasion” of <em>Monday Night Raw</em>. A scrum ensued inside the ring, and, whoops, Nia Jax leveled Lynch with an unintentionally real punch and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XPepd9s1cH4">legitimately broke her face</a>. A bloodied Lynch stood defiant on the way out and made the moment hers. Through the transformative powers of unscripted violence and inborn charisma, the Man immediately became the most buzzworthy commodity in wrestling. </p>
<div class="c-float-left"><aside id="csXkhm"><div data-anthem-component="newsletter" data-anthem-component-data='{"slug":"ringer_newsletter"}'></div></aside></div>
<p id="Aua5tC">Alas, Lynch was also shelved for <em>Survivor Series</em>, handpicking nemesis Charlotte as her replacement, which was partly a concession to the fact that Lynch was entirely too popular to play the villain straight. It was also a kind of sick serendipity that only pro wrestling can give us: Becky’s unplanned derailment only boosted her hoped-for ascent, as WWE was forced to further delay gratification. Charlotte proceeded to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=caGzhd3Wpv4">brutally flog Rousey with a kendo stick</a>, culminating a <em>Survivor Series </em>meltdown and slow rotation back toward her antagonist pose. At December’s <em>TLC </em>PPV, Rousey prevented both a recovered Lynch <em>and</em> reinvigorated Flair from winning the <em>SmackDown</em> women’s title, which was just as well—it was Rousey’s <em>Raw</em> belt that they were going to beef over. </p>
<h4 id="txXpIQ">Final Chapter</h4>
<p id="4YLmhu">At the <em>Royal Rumble </em>in January, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYQx9BwJ67o">Lynch stepped in for an injured Lana</a> at the 11th hour (or 28th pick, to be exact) of the women’s battle royal and sabotaged Charlotte’s deserved win, putting Lynch in line to face Rousey at <em>WrestleMania</em>. But <em>swerve alert</em>! Becky was hobbling around with a story-line knee injury courtesy of old foe Nia Jax, and then got herself suspended for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OTmR1agaJ3k">beating up Stephanie</a> and Triple H when they dared compel her to get medically cleared for competition. (She <a href="https://shop.wwe.com/becky-lynch-mugshot-t-shirt/2389056F9D.html?dwvar_2389056F9D_color=black#start=1">went to story-line jail</a> and everything.) And in an enraging echo of the most recent <em>SummerSlam</em> and <em>Survivor Series</em>, Charlotte was inserted into the fight by Chairman Vince McMahon, who’s always willing to risk a crowd’s ire to raise the temperature on a match. </p>
<div class="c-float-left"><div id="RotNkv"><iframe src="https://open.spotify.com/embed-podcast/episode/1H1lVDjpQm6rCKksJ6WYu7" style="border: 0; width: 100%; height: 232px;" allowfullscreen="" allow="encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="LYMTBb">But hark! Becky kept violating her suspension and any reasonable clinical caution by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkv0W9Hry2E">ambushing Flair and Rousey</a> at every turn. And lo! Ronda at last got rowdy like she meant it in early March, verbally eviscerating the same fans who’d been so critical of her for so long and then <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=omJy8lb_Z8M">assaulting a virtually defenseless Lynch</a>. Transformation complete! Moreover, in the interest of expediency, Lynch was reinstated. She and Flair were slotted for one last one-on-one at <em>Fastlane</em>, with Becky’s shot at re-entering the <em>Mania </em>title match on the line. That Sunday, Charlotte dialed up the ruthless wrath and Lynch sold the heck out of her bum knee. It appeared The Man was doomed, but then: <a href="https://youtu.be/v9cRtx45ohM?t=876">Rousey ran in and attacked Lynch</a>, deliberately (if brutally) handing Becky the win by disqualification. The Rowdy one got what she’d wanted for months—her two irksome <em>SmackDown </em>spoilers in the ring at once, on wrestling’s most storied night. (And, in a true bit of redemption for Rousey, a <a href="https://twitter.com/RondaRousey/status/1107309385188077568">viral, kayfabe-agnostic, shit-talking feud</a> with Lynch and overall <a href="https://twitter.com/RondaRousey/status/1105189095221968896">coordinated intimidation campaign</a> to beat the band.) There was no shortage of volatility in the setup, but the circumstances are clear: Three once-in-a-generation athletes-cum-entertainers with a shot at ensuring that <em>Mania 35 </em>is the true high point in a wrestling revolution.</p>
<h4 id="9SMhCE">Postscript</h4>
<p id="QW3ado">Remember my allusion to the Four Horsewomen faction rubbing up against Rousey? As NXT devotees can tell you, Rousey has been a cornerstone of another quartet of killer female combatants who’ve deigned to <a href="https://www.prowrestlingtees.com/the-four-horsewomen.html">consider themselves the real Four Horsewomen</a>. It’s a group that also features MMA-turned-NXT standouts Marina Shafir, Jessamyn Duke, and Shayna Baszler, a multiple-time NXT Women’s Champion. The fractious foursomes have let the theoretical drama surrounding apocalyptic-equestrian preeminence <a href="http://www.diva-dirt.com/the-four-horsewomen-social-media/">spill over onto social media</a>, to the delight of smarky fans. And it’s hard not to fantasize about what might happen if—years removed from that July ’15 ribbon-cutting on the Women’s Revolution—natural alliances coalesced and opened up an inter-stable rivalry not seen since the days of DX versus the Nation of Domination. </p>
<p id="bcYU7p">In the interim, there’s a lot that needs to be addressed no matter what happens at <em>Mania</em>. If Charlotte or Becky win, will they then shift to <em>Raw</em>? If Rousey loses, will she stay put there? Is a roster shake-up imminent regardless? </p>
<p class="c-end-para" id="KgGOPe">But here’s a few statements: 1. Lynch and Rousey have riotous momentum, which could easily have one overthinking whether it’s Charlotte who needs the belt to keep catching up to her dad’s record of 16 championships and not get lost in the sauce. 2. If this match isn’t actually scheduled as the night’s finale, there may just be an actual riot. And 3. The credit for this coming together belongs to Rousey, Lynch, and Flair. They’ve taken the risks, put their bodies on the line, believed without wavering in what they were on the precipice of, and are all deserving of this moon-landing moment in women’s wrestling—and wrestling—history. The world is watching.</p>
https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/20/18274241/wrestlemania-35-match-book-ronda-rousey-becky-lynch-charlotte-flairKenny Herzog2019-03-14T11:16:25-04:002019-03-14T11:16:25-04:00‘WrestleMania 35’ Preview: The Miz vs. Shane McMahon
<figure>
<img alt="The Miz and Shane McMahon" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/T8gxZ0zpfLNDSYUbHKC0sbkI-7A=/0x0:2667x2000/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/63237298/herzog_miz_shane_wwe_ringer.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>WWE/Ringer illustration</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>A semi-scientific breakdown of a bout between the owner’s son and the reality star turned former champ </p> <p id="A9FcH3">In case you’ve had WWE programming on mute for the past several weeks, <em>WrestleMania 35 </em>is fast upon us, which means it is our eminent duty to periodically roll out excruciatingly detailed previews of each individual match in the month-plus leading up to April 7. It is, to be pointed, <em>The Ringer</em>’s <em>WrestleMania </em>Match Book.</p>
<div class="c-float-left"><aside id="OmfNnN"><div data-anthem-component="readmore" data-anthem-component-data='{"stories":[{"title":"‘WrestleMania 35’ Preview: Triple H vs. Batista","url":"https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/7/18254528/wrestlemania-35-match-book-triple-h-vs-batista"},{"title":"‘WrestleMania 35’ Preview: Lesnar vs. Rollins","url":"https://www.theringer.com/2019/2/25/18236602/wrestlemania-35-match-book-brock-lesnar-vs-seth-rollins"}]}'></div></aside></div>
<p id="6AIw63">As of this writing, and with <em>Fastlane </em>in the rear view, the card for professional wrestling’s biggest night has swelled to feature several confirmed clashes, a couple of which—<a href="https://www.theringer.com/2019/2/25/18236602/wrestlemania-35-match-book-brock-lesnar-vs-seth-rollins">Brock Lesnar defending his Universal Championship opposite <em>Raw</em> poster boy Seth Rollins</a> and <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/7/18254528/wrestlemania-35-match-book-triple-h-vs-batista">Evolution alums Triple H and Batista’s settling old scores</a>—we’ve already covered in depth. We’ll wend our way toward the riotous three-way dance among <em>Raw </em>women’s champion Ronda Rousey, Charlotte Flair, and Becky Lynch, (and A.J. Styles vs. Randy Orton and all the rest), but for now, let’s continue this limited feature series by taking stock of the Miz’s and Shane McMahon’s unexpectedly dovetailing fates in an effort to deduce why we care and whether the Awesome One or the prodigal son will emerge on top.</p>
<h3 id="r2VqR3">
<em>WrestleMania </em>Match Book, Chapter 3: The Miz vs. Shane McMahon</h3>
<h4 id="KodKBm">The Prologue: Part 1</h4>
<p id="5YsDE2">Last summer’s <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2018/8/10/17672642/the-miz-daniel-bryan-feud-summerslam">years-in-the-making</a> climactic series of matches between mutual side-thorns Miz and Daniel Bryan was arguably 2018’s most compelling story line. It had everything: the surreal joy of seeing <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2018/3/21/17147326/daniel-bryan-return-wwe-wrestlemania-34">Bryan back in action</a> after an injury-hastened retirement; Miz and wife Maryse at the peak of their oxygen-stealing, power-couple charisma; and the rare opportunity to further an open-ended narrative that didn’t need to borrow from real world (no pun intended) drama (the rare opportunity to further a vital, open-ended story without wallowing in worked shoots). But once it was over, and Bryan set his sights on—<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3MX5nyk3hk&t=65s">and took from A.J. Styles</a>—the WWE Championship, marking the start of an epic heel turn that’s kept him squarely in WWE’s uppermost card. The gods of kayfabe required reciprocal Miz turn to the side of good to maintain the cosmic balance. (Plus, with <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QBqqZELc4U">Season 2 of <em>Miz & Mrs.</em></a> slated for a spring premiere, it couldn’t hurt to soften the titular star’s on-screen edges.) But with Bryan busy in his own story line, who could help facilitate this exchange without further upsetting <em>SmackDown</em>’s moral standings? You’d need someone whose reputation for coming through in the clutch was nothing short of … Money.</p>
<h4 id="qMMbxt">The Prologue: Part 2</h4>
<p id="AUGVmo">Remember back in the Attitude Era when we all <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AdKJZQToGM0">hated Shane McMahon</a>? That was a reasonable reaction to the on-screen ascent of the boss’s son. But then, defying all logic, as both his ego and physique inflated to unrelatable proportions, we became collectively endeared to Vince’s prodigal son. So much so that when he came back to WWE TV in February 2016 as <em>SmackDown </em>GM following his <a href="https://latimesblogs.latimes.com/entertainmentnewsbuzz/2011/06/shane-mcmahon-is-his-own-man.html">walkabout to dabble in cross-platform media delivery</a> overseas, Shane-O-Mac was welcomed like a conquering knight. </p>
<div id="R567hf"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/PzDP3ltd8tA?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="IHXQ3z">And that was before he laced ’em up and hit his well-rehearsed repertoire of death-defying elbow drops and coast-to-coasts against <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bWI2l4ZbdA4">the Undertaker</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o51brKO4f7c">A.J. Styles</a>, and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aNs6QG8JxPk">Kevin Owens and Sami Zayn</a> at three successive <em>WrestleMania </em>spectacles. As it happens, his tag-team partner at <em>Mania 34 </em>against Owens and Zayn was none other than Bryan, who had been his co-GM on <em>SmackDown </em>before unretiring and with whom he had betrayed trace evidence of animosity. Alas, the pair savored their win, and McMahon stepped back and watched along with the rest of us as Bryan and Miz made waves. Or so it seemed.</p>
<h4 id="IJntyp">Chapter 1</h4>
<p id="EUh93w">If we’ve learned anything about Shane McMahon, it’s that he can’t keep those shuffling feet and five-knuckle fists on the shelf for very long, and, by fall 2018, he was apparently itching to be put back in the game. Lord knows the Saudi Arabia–staged <em>Crown Jewel </em>fiasco was in need of some extra headlining names. How else to suture the gaping wound left open after marquee guys like John Cena and Bryan <a href="http://www.prowrestlingsheet.com/cena-bryan-crown-jewel/#.XIpqUBNKi_W">bowed out</a> rather than publicly play footsie with the crown prince. And here is where divine inspiration came in. Miz had reached the finals of <em>Crown Jewel</em>’s World Cup tournament, the winner of which would be anointed—wait for it—the Best in the World. But before taking on fellow finalist Dolph Ziggler, Miz “injured” his leg, left the arena, and was surreptitiously replaced by McMahon, the commissioner of the <em>SmackDown</em> brand and thus Miz’s unofficial front-office representative, who was watching ringside. McMahon triumphed, went home with a shiny trophy, and returned to <em>SmackDown </em>the next week, when he was guilted into further wrestling duty at the Survivor Series<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BpHPKMfP8IE"> by overeager Miz</a>. Both men would come to rue the day.</p>
<h4 id="jIS3sP">Next Chapter</h4>
<p id="LH6XvU">Before Shane could say, “Why did I come back from China?” he and the Miz were cocaptaining <em>SmackDown</em>’s <em>Survivor Series </em>squad (they lost) and bantering backstage about the pros and cons of forming a tag team in earnest. The joke was that since Shane had replaced Miz in the <em>Crown Jewel</em> tourney, <em>together</em> they were the best in the world—so why not make it official? Some moments were sublime (Miz is, if nothing else, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BsQr8r034iA">always committed</a>), while others were so over-the-top sentimental (and leaned so hard on Miz regressing into an <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Afm-P5H43kw">almost feeble-minded sap</a>) that they all but telegraphed Shane’s ultimate betrayal. By the time they’d surpassed the Bar at the <em>Royal Rumble </em>and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UpqhJFzWBxk">won <em>SmackDown</em>’s tag titles</a>—which they promptly dropped to the Usos three weeks hence—there was nowhere left for their relationship to go but belly-up. </p>
<div id="Zz8wk5"><iframe src="https://open.spotify.com/embed-podcast/episode/34Adny2hvuVU2QNJmYNnDA" style="border: 0; width: 100%; height: 232px;" allowfullscreen="" allow="encrypted-media"></iframe></div>
<p id="NB5j1A">Stung (and <a href="https://youtu.be/lWz07d9JFl4?t=726">very, very sweaty</a>) from their <em>Elimination Chamber </em>defeat, the former champs stood tall on <em>SmackDown </em>the subsequent couple of Tuesdays. They promptly challenged the Usos to a rematch at <em>Fastlane</em> in Miz’s hometown of Cleveland, where his proud, <em>Miz & Mrs.</em>–costarring papa could bear witness. At long last, with <em>WrestleMania </em>bearing down, all the elements were in place for Shane to disgrace the Mizanin name. That, and guarantee that curious <em>Miz & Mrs</em>. viewers making a leap of faith and setting their DVRs for <em>SmackDown</em> would encounter a story line they could half-recognize. </p>
<div id="gNqbSv"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/NbkxENFLvfM?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="2QqvUI">And so it was written and executed accordingly at <em>Fastlane</em> last weekend, as Shane—fed up with Miz for playing sycophant and not even carrying his weight in competition—duly throttled his prone ex-partner, humiliating him before Cleveland, his dad, and the millions streaming at home. We haven’t heard from the Miz himself as of this writing, though Shane took the initiative to show up on <em>SmackDown </em>Tuesday, <a href="https://youtu.be/Mlgfj3xcPjM?t=121">rough up the ring announcer</a>, ramble on about the price of privilege, and decree that he and Miz would meet as adversaries at <em>Mania</em>. (Talk about privilege—he didn’t even wait for the Miz to accept, because why would he? He’s the boss’s son and he can wrestle whoever he wants.) He even pointed to the sign and everything, although karma (and kayfabe) suggest he’ll be taking an L. </p>
<h4 id="HuGVxF">Postscript</h4>
<p id="Pv2HOs">Shane’s capacity as a flex in-ring performer is what made Bryan’s and Miz’s delicate rotation as top villain and irrepressible fan favorite, respectively, add up. Shane’s annual token <em>Mania </em>spot (an honor he tacitly inherited from his ’16 opponent, the Undertaker) needed some freshening up. By now, we all suspend disbelief and chant “holy shit” every time Shane climbs a cage and sends a disproportionately larger man crashing through a tenuous table. </p>
<p class="c-end-para" id="XcsFbf">Heel Shane is a good thing. A Shane hiatus—at least on-camera—might be even wise once <em>Mania</em>’s a wrap. As for aw-shucks, daddy’s-boy Miz: The side of the angels is not and has never been his natural fit, but something tells me that once he’s done promoting this latest spin at the reality rodeo, some new film shoot will beckon, and then he’ll resurface several months on like he’d never forgotten that he was an arrogant jerk. Then again, he does turn 39 in October and, as he loves to note, has been a fixture in WWE for 12 years. While the door is certainly open for Miz to reclaim the top spot in the company (which would be an apt capstone to his own Bryanesque epic poem), perhaps the most unlikely future Hall of Famer of his generation is ready for his Hollywood close-up.</p>
<aside id="DSxR94"><div data-anthem-component="newsletter" data-anthem-component-data='{"slug":"ringer_newsletter"}'></div></aside>
https://www.theringer.com/2019/3/14/18265469/wrestlemania-35-match-book-miz-shane-mcmahonKenny Herzog