5 Reasons Neville Wants To Quit WWE
The Man WWE Forgot.
Sensational news broke this morning concerning the former King of the Cruiserweights, Neville: the Geordie has allegedly requested his release from WWE.
It's a depressing state of affairs. Neville's reigns as both King and Cruiserweight Champion have yielded so much in the way of character development and entertainment. The heel version of Neville is - or was, the past tense is already jarring and dispiriting - a superb act. Neville, to use a comparison from his birth country, is wrestling's equivalent of Chelsea footballing legend Frank Lampard: an excellent talent who compensated for his lack of natural ability in some areas with pure, painstaking graft. Neville was never a top-tier promo man, until this year at least, during which he mastered the heat-seeking art of the villainous laugh. Neville was always a sensational in-ring worker. In 2017, he focused on developing the nuances of his style, infusing it with sublime character work to become the company's best - or at least most underrated - all-rounder. He refused to hit the Red Arrow on all but the most deserving of opponents. He sacrificed getting his sh*t in to shape his long game, knowing just how over the man who would eventually kick out of it would become. In theory, anyhow.
Unfortunately, none of this mattered much in the mind of the wider audience; Neville was pigeonholed to such a demoralising extent that his superb work went unnoticed by a fanbase deadened by an age of content, content, content...
5. The Stigmatisation Of 205 Live
Neville's sheer commitment to his gimmick was commendable. His work was subtle and method acting-level comprehensive. When he emerged on the Monday Night RAW following No Mercy, to confront new Cruiserweight Champion Enzo Amore, he looked frazzled. His hair was a shock of dried strands. His eyes looked hollowed out. His skin was Sheamus-pale. Instantly, the dejection of losing his title to this literal pretender was manifested all over his physical form. The man looked as if he had walked for miles through the night, searching his soul as the birds stirred awake. Neville had evolved into an expert pro wrestling psychologist.
Nobody took any notice because 205 Live, the brand Neville had been tasked with carrying, was doomed to failure by its creators and treated as an inconvenience by its intended audience. There is too much good wrestling to catch up on in 2017. 205 Live, a toned-down continuation of the Cruiserweight Classic, presented fans with the sort of wrestling available virtually everywhere else in the workrate era, performed by talents we hadn't been afforded any opportunity to connect with. The curious initial focus on Alicia Fox and her love triangle story alienated the slim viewership immediately. It could not have acted as a more fitting metaphor for WWE's tired sports entertainment storytelling crutches - and this was meant to be the pro wrestling show.
All connected with the show were stigmatised as irrelevant. This included both King and peasants alike.