10 Worst WWE Matches Of 2020

In the interest of being fair, because it's not all about match qualty, it should be pointed out that Bray Wyatt is a very creative fellow capable of producing actual such good sh*t, when he hones that energy in a certain direction.

There are two sides to Bray Wyatt, but they aren't the children's show host and the Fiend: there's the talented comedic performer, and the man utterly incapable of projecting horror within the confines of an abject and hokey - and untenable and incongruous - supernatural gimmick.

The Firefly Fun House vignettes are still good. On the 23 November Monday Night RAW, Wyatt introduced us to - and subsequently killed off - the Friendship Frog puppet. In an inspired sequence, WWE ran an in-memoriam video package set to maudlin pop music in which a puppet's life (!), which we became aware of just seconds ago, was celebrated. The frog graduated college as a varsity athlete. This was absurdity piled on top of absurdity that might work in a context removed entirely from pro wrestling.

Later in the show, the Fiend character hid behind a barricade, and Randy Orton couldn't see him because the camera angle obscured him from view. Also he has supernatural powers.

The Fiend is not good. The very second Wyatt shifts his facial expression to introduce the contrast, it all goes to sh*t.

This is pointed out here because a lot of very sh*tty Bray Wyatt matches are screaming Let Me In...

This was the least WrestleMania-feeling match ever on the least WrestleMania-feeling WrestleMania of all-time. What a complete f*cking tonal disaster, Jesus wept.

"How can we make this feel like a big-time match worthy of the spectacle of the Grandest Stage? How can we put smiles on people's faces and allow them to escape news of wave upon wave of death?"

"Remind them of Chris Benoit's suicide?"

"By God, that's perfect!"

This 40 minute grinding indulgence was so depressing. That's really the only word that describes it.

Set against a dingy backdrop, Edge and Randy Orton sent one another sprawling into jagged edges and rock-solid apparatus to generate a vibe of violence removed from what actually works as a dramatic wrestling spectacle. There was no satisfying peak. No thrilling stunts. No cathartic noises to accompany the big moments of vengeance. With every deep thud and metallic twang, this just felt painful. You felt brittle and almost literally cold watching it unfold across its dumb, sapping duration. Edge said the word "grit" an awful lot in the build, and that's what he displayed throughout the match. But then, so did the guy in 127 hours, and that didn't make for a good wrestling attraction either.

A grunting, formless, pompous 40-minute walk-and-brawl. Sh*t.

Pure sh*t.