8 Ways WWE Have Already Been Worse Than WCW In 2019

6. Botching Roman Reigns' Comeback

The Undertaker Goldberg
WWE

Shortly after Roman Reigns finally ended a Homeric quest to decisively conquer Brock Lesnar and claim the Universal Championship, the whims of fate cruelly intervened. Just two months later, the Big Dog revealed to a stunned WWE Universe that he had been re-diagnosed with leukaemia, 11 years after first fighting the disease.

It was through a bout of cruel irony that Reigns, a perpetual boo-boy throughout his three-year long odyssey, was now the company's biggest babyface via the gravest of circumstances. WWE's overbearing booking was a mere irrelevance, replaced by basic human empathy.

Reigns took a hiatus as he combatted the illness, as fans fretted about whether we'd see him again. Miraculously, Roman returned on the 25 February episode of Monday Night Raw to announce that his cancer was in remission.

From this point forth, there was no way Roman would receive anything other than cheers. How could anyone boo the man for trivial wrestling reasons after what he'd been through?

WWE, er, found a way. After an oddly subdued WrestleMania 35 return victory over Drew McIntyre, the desperate company began plastering Roman's face all over both Raw and SmackDown - just a week on from the blue brand announcing him as their "biggest ever acquisition".

Little by little, the jeers began to return, hardly helped by an ongoing, unrealistic feud against the useless Shane McMahon. The feelgood factor had already been replaced, not quite with the vociferous vitriol which had plagued his ascension, but an acute apathy. Inexplicably losing to the boss' son in Saudi Arabia completely put the buffers on any further 'top guy' pretentions.

After years of trying to find a way to make Roman the most popular performer in the company, WWE were suddenly and undeservedly handed one. Testament to the promotion's almost incurable ineptitude, they then proceeded to Superman punch the biggest gift dog in the mouth.

Editorial Team
Editorial Team

Benjamin was born in 1987, and is still not dead. He variously enjoys classical music, old-school adventure games (they're not dead), and walks on the beach (albeit short - asthma, you know). He's currently trying to compile a comprehensive history of video game music, yet denies accusations that he purposefully targets niche audiences. He's often wrong about these things.