Right and Exact
Saturday Night’s Main Event exceeds more as a corporate mandated exhibition show than something worthy of attention. Don’t get me wrong; the main event delivered, which I’ll get to in a bit. But the show overall felt perfunctory. Like watching a bunch of people go through the motions on a Saturday night. The fact this came a week before Clash in Italy made the event feel even less necessary.
Alas, it’s a sign of the corporate overlords doing
what overlords do best. Which is to say, provide “content” that creates viral moments instead of long-lasting satisfaction. It’s the difference in going to McDonald’s vs. going to a restaurant where the McRib isn’t treated like a delicacy. WWE is in its fast food era right now. I don’t feel fine about it but it does make me do what Jafar would do: Look harder for the diamonds in the rough. Shoutout to Aladdin.
Lady Luck is fickle but props to her for providing said diamonds at the end of the show. The Street Profits and Logan Paul got me interested in an Austin Theory match. This match fed off the Fort Wayne crowd in the best ways possible. They hated Logan and couldn’t wait to voice their very loud opinions about his employment. Montez Ford was, as always, incredible. I know he’s got this tag team thing going but please give him a solo run before he’s too old to run, much less do cartwheels and backflips in the ring. And the Profits sold really well for Austin, who didn’t quite resemble drying paint.
The match truly hit a different speed in the last few minutes, which is why I said Seth Rollins was right. Bron Breakker hit the ring because it’s a Vision match. Montez jumped over his Spear and Angelo tossed him like a child into the announce table. The Profits seamlessly went back into the ring and put the finishing touches on Austin. If not for Paul E. putting Austin’s foot on the rope. They came this close to proving Seth wrong by doing it on their own.
But, like I said, Seth is right. Two men, no matter how dope they are, cannot defeat four. I’m terrible at math and even I understand simple arithmetic. Because Montez refused to break bread with Seth, they went into this match with their hands tied behind their backs. Montez may not want Seth. He certainly doesn’t trust him. But he does need him. For all the talk about Seth not having allies, I didn’t see anyone rushing to come to their side. One can argue Joe Hendry should’ve made an appearance because logic, but then how would Seth be right?
B-Sides
- If there’s one thing I took away from the opening six-woman tag match, it’s this: never make friends. Oh, also evil will always defeat good because good is dumb. Alexa Bliss, Charlotte Flair, & Rhea Ripley actually took time to hug and pose during this match’s late stages. They took their eyes way off the ball for a “thank you for being a friend” moment that ultimately led to their demise. This was a fine match for a Saturday night non-PLE. It moved in slow motion at times, some of the punches exchanged looked more like open-hand slaps than jabs, and some spots featured miscommunication. That said, it teased a couple future matches, namely Charlotte Flair vs. Jade Cargill, and Charlotte vs. Rhea Ripley. the latter feels like the obvious endgame to this little tale, with the former looking like a future mountain to climb. Jade got the pin on Rhea, which probably doesn’t bode well for Jade’s fortunes in Italy. How does one say fortune in Italy?
- Wow. Look, I pondered how they’d end Becky Lynch vs. Sol Ruca since a loss served neither woman. But I didn’t expect whatever that was. A fart in church? A group of LARPers doing Shakespeare in the Park? Either of those things feel similar to Sol getting DQ’d because she accidentally snatched Jessika Carr’s soul. Actually, she kinda did that. The spot wasn’t smooth in the least and she barely snatched anyone’s soul, much less Jessika’s. Shang Tsung isn’t proud. Anyway, Becky beat down Sol after her DQ win, which obviously made the crowd rain down boos on the champ. Adding more insult to injury for the paying audience and people who breathe oxygen, they decided the do-over happens next week in Italy. And the Intercontinental Championship is on the line. Soooo, what exactly was the point of this match? Adam Pearce could’ve made this exact match weeks ago without insulting anyone’s intelligence. Or wasting their time. Or, as the kids say, playing in their face. Alas, WWE did, in fact, play in our faces.
- Saturday Night’s Main Event featured Ethan Page getting hoisted on his own petard. Those pesky petards. I predicted an All Ego victory party but instead, Penta celebrated winning a well-executed and fun match between two vets. The irony was Ethan withstood Penta’s best shots. He kicked out of the Penta Driver, he blocked the initial Mexican Destroyer, and he just kept coming for more. But it was Ethan’s own desperation that did him in. Nobody told Mr. Ego to rip off the turnbuckle padding, which he later crashed into, which signaled the start of his ending. Michael Cole said Ethan’s ego would do him in but it was fear that killed the beast.
- There’s perhaps an interesting story with…Scream Mode. Seriously, that’s their name? It sounds like a Scream spinoff destined to skip theaters, premiere on VOD, and be forgotten as quickly as it was conjured. Anyway, the tale about a team proving they’re more than a nostalgia act simply by hanging on or getting Ws by whatever means necessary, even if it means coloring outside the lines, raises my eyebrows a tad. The ultimate question: How far are they willing to go to prove they’re legit? How far outside the lines will they color? Will they change that name into something that doesn’t make me want to scream? I’m not sure if WWE will take it that way but with Brie applying extra leverage to Paige’s pin attempt opens the door for that direction. The Irresistible Forces dominated the match for the most part, so it’s no surprise the champs pulled out at least one stop to get the win. I wouldn’t be surprised if we get a rematch sooner or later.
As I said up top, these Saturday events feel mandated with no consistent spark. I thoroughly enjoyed the main event and even the Intercontinental Championship match, but there’s nothing here that wouldn’t fit perfectly on a Monday or Friday night. This was a layover on the way to Italy. Nothing more, nothing less.
What say you, Cagesiders?
