10 Times WWE Turned Trash Into Treasure
3. Kane
Glenn Jacobs has endured some abysmal incarnations in his time.
Corporate Kane. Embrace The Hate Kane. May 19 Kane. Cuck Kane. Finn Bálor-burying Kane. Teetering Around Tables In Australia Kane. Rapist Kane.
But before all that, he was also an absolute sh*t magnet, burdened throughout the 1990s as the Fake Diesel (still better than World Champion in 2010 Kane) and the evil personal dentist of Jerry Lawler, Isaac Yankem, in a name so consummately Vince McMahon you can actually hear the hahahahahah noise he made when somebody, probably Bruce Prichard, pitched it. Destined for the Where Are They Now? files (if only, those first nine months were good, but not that good), Jacobs was instead repackaged as Kane in late 1997.
Years and years and years of plodding, mediocre overfamiliarity followed, but before all that, Kane was a genuinely brilliant monster. It wasn't just an inspired gimmick, nor a well-crafted long-term narrative; Jacobs, behind a mask, conveyed an unreal sense of menace every bit as unsettling - and iconic - as the horror movie monsters after which he was modelled.
His head tilted eerily to mirror his skewed perception of the prey that is human life, his supernatural ability to launch hapless jobbers halfway up the RAW ramp, this version of Kane survives actual decades of diminished returns to inspire unease every time you return to 1997 on your Network watchlist.