The fact of the matter is, if he was delivering in the ring as part of enthralling, well-told storylines, I would probably ignore all of my misgivings about Brock Lesnar as a man, and as a part of the wrestling business. Im a fan first and foremost, and although it grates on me, if I loved what he was doing unreservedly, Id put my fandom first. I know a lot of fans do that, and a lot of people who write about the 'ol wrestling for a living do it too. But I dont love it. I dont love the wildly inconsistent selling, the refusal to work the crowd, the boring stories that are being told. In 2016, Brock Lesnar bores me to tears. His matches were exciting when we didnt know what was going to happen next. Now, theyre as predictable as the standard John Cena match weve all slagged off for so many years. Frankly, I never want to see a German suplex again as long as I live. I loved Lesnar in 2002 and 2003. Hell, I loved him in 2012 and 2013. He was playing a totally badass character, but a fallible one: he could be beaten by the right guy on the right night. He showed emotion beyond a smirk, including fear on occasion. In 2002, he put over the Undertaker as being on his level, and then beat him anyway he didnt just snicker smugly at him in the middle of their marquee match and waste all that heat. Lesnar was still an irritating douche of a man who disrespected the business every time he opened his mouth back then, but I didnt care that much, because I loved his work. Thats pro wrestling fandom for you - well forgive all of your many sins, if only you entertain us. In 2016, Brock Lesnar doesnt entertain me. Hes a giant spoiler of a character, a man wholl come in to no-sell and wipe out what should be at least nominal opposition, flatten people who should give him at least a little competition. The last guy that was in that role was called John Cena. Its pretty much what we used to hate him for, remember? It turns out that theres no real empirical difference between Superman and Doomsday, and thats just sad, man. Its sad all over. That's why I hate Brock Lesnar (at least the mundane, safe 2016 version of Lesnar).
Professional writer, punk werewolf and nesting place for starfish. Obsessed with squid, spirals and story. I publish short weird fiction online at desincarne.com, and tweet nonsense under the name Jack The Bodiless. You can follow me all you like, just don't touch my stuff.