14. Laying The Smack Down
The announcers on WWE television have frequently been the bane of my life. When you have to watch RAW and Smackdown every week on headphones and you've got to listen to the yammering of the same men in your right ear for hours on end, you begin to entertain fantasies about snipers and swift, silenced head shots. For some time, I have plotted the death of Michael Cole. It's not really his fault: he's got Vince McMahon blaring in his ear like an angry foghorn, forcing him to parrot his soundbites like a mynah bird. Regardless, the man's voice is like Chinese water torture. The 2015 version of Jerry Lawler isn't much better. Well, thanks to Smackdown's move to USA last week, I'm no longer trapped in my own private Guantanamo. Not that there's anything incredibly offensive about Tom Phillips or Rich Brennan... but Maury Ranallo is a national treasure, with a voice like hot chocolate. Not only that, but he's found a way to tell WWE's stories without sacrificing the basics of play by play. That's right... Ranallo is allowed to call moves. Calling him a breath of fresh air doesn't do it justice. I love him, and I want him to marry my sister.
Jack Morrell
Contributor
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.
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