The Day WWE Monday Night Raw Died
Marketed as its own entity (Sports Entertainment) away from what it's always actually been (Pro Wrestling), the used car salesman at Vince McMahon's core decided that he would promote stars to hook you and pile up enough bullsh*t to keep you. Because keeping you was key. His stars would come and go, but he wants you on contract for life. There's a good chance he's got you too.
You probably know how and when it happened. Me? 30 years and counting thanks to the neon epicureanism of the Ultimate Warrior in 1990.
What was yours? Did Hulkamania change your life in the 1980s? Were you wowed by Bret Hart's intricate grasp of body parts and your emotions in the 1994? Taken on a ride by Stone Cold Steve Austin's rage against the machine in 1998? Or by The Rock's movie star cool in 2000? Was Ruthless Aggression what you sought when WWE supplied it? Let's Go Cena? Cena Sucks? When CM Punk got to the top of that Las Vegas stage and sat down, did you stand up? Did you Believe In The Shield? Or chant YES! at the top of your lungs? Did Seth Rollins get under your skin when he was supposed to back in 2015? Did you revel in the bubbling Divas Revolution becoming a female evolution during the second half of the last decade? A new world opened up in the aftermath and it was cool as f*ck - 'The Man' came around, along with 'The Queen', 'The Boss', 'The Hugger', 'The Empress Of Tomorrow' and 'The Baddest Woman On The Planet'.
Something grabbed you enough to be reading this now, and watching Raw most or every Monday. That's how McMahon has always done business, and why he'll always want stars even if his process has never looked so against the creation of them.
A journey through that rich history was precisely what WWE sold to everybody on the night they riddled their longest-running show with fatal bullet wounds. And the company were only too happy to ensure that some of the loyalest fans were caught in the crossfire.
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