EXPOSING The Biggest Myth In Modern Wrestling
The 2013 failure of Jack Swagger was at least a noble failure. Revisiting his big push now is eye-watering in its conviction. WWE paired Swagger with a mouthpiece in Zeb Coulter, marched him instantly to the World Heavyweight Title picture, and Vince even loaned him his favourite punching bag, Jim Ross, to fuel the rocket. Jack Swagger in 2013 felt like more of a star than virtually everybody in 2019. Hell, it could be argued that Vince hasn’t sunk his teeth into a proactive pet project since Jinder Mahal in 2017. Inattentive and or incapable, Vince could always promote, even if he couldn’t book.
The last resort of the desperate is shouting—and Vince has even lost his enthusiastic carny bluster. Fans have for years bemoaned the spluttering pushes that have come to define the chaos and malaise of modern WWE, but it’s like they barely even start anymore.
Taking the extended metaphor to its conclusion, 1996 felt like the start of something. 2019 feels in some ways like the end, absurd as that may read given the absurd financial position in which WWE finds itself. Everything is so comprehensively backwards—“Let’s blame injuries for the ratings decline, but let’s also overwork the top stars by killing the brand split in farcical fashion!”—that it is impossible for WWE to move forwards, let alone compete on a creative level with the promotions that are growing elsewhere.
Vince McMahon doesn’t compete in 2019; he takes his ball and goes to the familiarity of home—and only if that ball is emblazoned with the XFL logo will WWE compete for fan interest once more.