After a spot of introspection, with a mind weighed down by just how brutally ugly the imminent prospect of WWE Crown Jewel is, and an increasing apathy towards a turgid flagship product, this seems as good a time as any to pay committed tribute to WWE's main roster mainstays.
Getting over in WWE is incredibly difficult. It matters little whether an act is a technician, a flier, or a powerhouse; the magnetic ring posts, suicide dives and rest holds are mandatory plays on the homogenised stage, the repetition of which is as contrived as it is damaging as it is tedious. This normalisation extends to scripted promos and 50/50 booking. It can only result in a fleet of talented performers travelling in the same lane in the middle of the road. The effect is often numbing; the joy of supporting and investing in a midcard act is lost under this crushing mentality. We can't truly believe in a Finn Bálor anymore; we can only belee "dat".
This roster would rather stay in that lane than travel to Riyadh, and who can blame them?
WWE won't acknowledge their concerns, but we can acknowledge their unheralded ability to connect to a fanbase increasingly disconnected to the product at large...