Jay-Z starts “Streets is Talking” mimicking questions from the perceived peanut gallery. Without boring you with rap nerds, the point was the streets couldn’t figure him out. Was Shawn Carter reformed or still the same guy who moved drugs out of apartment 4B? I’ve thought about that dynamic a lot as it pertains to Roman Reigns.
Is he the benevolent Tribal Chief constantly at war with his past demons, or is he a very big wolf in ill-fitting sheep’s clothing? WWE flirted with a definite answer but opted
on mostly shrugging their collective shoulders. Raw’s recent Bloodline segment showed how that indifference makes for conflicting crowd reactions. The crowd acknowledged Reigns by greeting him like the Second Coming.
And they often do. But that same audience erupted when Reigns took a Samoan Spike to the throat and rived in writhed in pain. Reigns is seemingly neither good guy nor bad guy; he’s whatever WWE needs at the moment. Therein lies the issue: WWE books for moments, which leads to creative inconsistencies, most notably as it relates to their biggest star and, at times, supposedly their biggest babyface.
Whether one is a heel or face is both a story element and a plot device. Steve Austin’s good guy status vs. The Rock’s smug villainy in the late ‘90s was the story. Austin dousing Rock with beer or Rock tossing Austin off of a bridge like trash was plot that moved their story forward. Whether the crowd cheered or booed was instrumental to the narrative and plot developments. While Austin got over doing things heroes before him wouldn’t even daydream about, the story and plot machinations made it clear he wore the proverbial white hat.
The territory built stories around Austin’s character rather than inserting him into an already existing construct. Less round peg into a square hole and more perfect game of Tetris. The Rock could move in various ways during their ‘90s feuds, as most heels can, but Austin’s morality never wavered, even if the story hinted it might.
Then there’s Reigns. This latest iteration of the Tribal Chief initially sounded a tad different than the guy who ruled like Thanos for almost four years. He, along with WWE announcers, talked about his need to win matches on his own this time. He shunned Bloodline help and told his family not to lay even a pinky on his opponents. He fought righteously against The Vision, no matter how many of his sneakers Bronson Reed snatched.
But there were always cracks in that new presentation. Reigns avoided the very necessary apology tour Chad Gable recently embarked upon. He called The Usos equals but still barked orders. He was both victim and assailant in a feud with Jacob Fatu that ended with Fatu pledging allegiance to Reigns. As foes, Reigns played the dismayed hero who wanted management to handle Fatu’s violence. But he encouraged and rewarded that same violence when it benefited his cause.
Why?
Basketball reasons is my usual go to but it’s nothing that inscrutable. WWE wants that old thing back but also wants something fresh. Reigns teeter tottering between hero and villain provides them the possible best of both worlds: Bad guy Reigns is the original Bloodline recipe that motivated Triple H to remind us not only that WWE was on fire, but just how hot said blaze became.
Good guy Reigns leading that crew has the chance for new stories and new dynamics. Therein lies the rub. Creating something new is tough when anchored to the past. Pre-SummerSlam however, WWE looked ready to chart a new course. Reigns’ feud with Seth Rollins clearly painted him as Raw’s top babyface. More importantly, he looked worthy of that distinction.
WWE built a narrative around this “new version” of Reigns. One who needed to forgive and let go of the past to brighten his future. He had moments of clarity, humility, and vulnerability whenever standing nose to nose with his former friend. Then the match itself reinforced Reigns’ status when he defeated Rollins sans dirty tactics, shook his hand, and even cut a promo citing his kids and practice what he preaches as it relates to growth.
That tale needed a triumphant, honorable protagonist. One who walked to of SummerSlam with his head held high, his demons exorcised, and hatches buried near the earth’s core rather than in someone’s back. Juxtapose that with the guy who showed up the next Monday in heel mode against LA Knight merely seconds after saluting Rollins. One can argue Knight started it. One is right to do so. However, Reigns’ response is didn’t have to be him not only puffing out his chest about owning a watch I can’t afford, but clowning Knight for rocking the True Value time piece. That’s just dastardly.
Good guy vs. good guy matches aren’t easy to book. That doesn’t mean they’re impossible. WWE did so successfully in the past and recently with CM Punk vs. Cody Rhodes, and Gable vs. Penta to name a couple. This is where the need to hop in the proverbial Delorean hurts the overall story. Because they feel compelled to add lore to The Bloodline saga, Reigns must be the bad guy.
He must embarrass someone he feels wronged him shortly after expressing the need for growth. He must revel in adulation, tell his cousin to yeet, but also instruct his muscle to punish his foe into submission. Above all else, he must profess to be a man of the people while forcing one fan favorite to destroy another fan favorite as a show of loyalty to him.
All because WWE needs him to be all things.
Fans clearly want to cheer this cat. Well, give them a reason to. Do something to make Michael Cole and Corey Graves sound intelligent when they tell us Reigns is worthy of those cheers. Acknowledge his mistakes and let him truly turn over some new leafs. Make that moment with Rollins at SummerSlam more than just a moment.
Or go the opposite route and validate Knight’s belief that Reigns is the world’s greatest hustler. Pick a lane rather than keeping him in the middle and changing his character, sometimes multiple times within the same segment. It’s flimsy writing that muddles everything and everyone around him. And it hurts his character. If Reigns switches alignments as frequently as he swaps sneakers, then why do any of his actions matter? If fans serenade him one minute then cheer his demise the next, why doe anyone’s actions matter?
The Tribal Chief’s pro wrestling abilities are a gift. Few can play heel and face so convincingly, and switch from one to another in a nanosecond. WWE is using that gift right now as a cheat code; an ultimate get out of jail card to help them out of a mess of their own making. Those halcyon days from a few years ago won’t come back by remixing the formula that got them there.
It’s past time they acknowledge that.
