There's hope for Nia Jax yet.
Perhaps one day she'll deliver the Samoan Drop without coming perilously close to squashing somebody's neck. Perhaps one day she'll deliver a promo standing up to Alexa Bliss without disingenuously mimicking what it is she seems to dislike about the disingenuous Alexa Bliss in the first place. Perhaps one day she'll go one match without f*cking something up.
Perhaps there is hope also for Jinder Mahal, who may one day learn how to work the first three minutes of any given match without boring us sh*tless with a chinlock, or for Roman Reigns, who may one day realise that the best means of getting fans on side isn't by lashing out at them on Twitter for voicing incredibly reasonable protests.
Perhaps, one day, the otherwise excellent Seth Rollins will perform an actual suicide dive, rather than an airborne high-five.
There is hope for that lot - well, not Nia Jax - because through hard work, the help of friends you later convince your wife to castrate on television, and the most bizarre and singular example of WWE's main roster thrashing NXT (!), there is famous precedent...