Why Mark Henry Was NEARLY WWE's Biggest Ever Flop

To some, this booking decision illustrated the sheer extent to which WWE had fallen. Though no longer interchangeable with the WWE Title, the Big Gold Belt nonetheless represented the pinnacle. That it was bestowed upon Mark Henry, an historical dud both dangerous and dismal, indicted the company’s creative philosophy and the execution of it.

To others, the Hall Of Pain run maximised Henry’s value and, in turn, rewarded WWE fans with entertainment value. The gruff, intense, sh*t-talking Henry was the best iteration of the character, a remorseless beast taking his bad luck out on and storyline injuring those who dared oppose him and innocent bystanders alike. At its best - an inconceivably dynamic Clash of the Titans opposite the Big Show at Vengeance 2011 sparks to mind - you could legitimately buy into Mark Henry as the force of nature McMahon had in his mind, all those years ago.

The uplifting Hall of Pain run slowing to a crawl, Henry was a sporadic presence on WWE TV in his latter years - though a superb, absorbing bout with CM Punk on the post-WrestleMania XXVIII RAW indicated that Henry did not necessarily need the all-in mega-push to frame himself as something truly dangerous.

The famous fake retirement RAW angle, ahead of Money In The Bank 2013, emphatically symbolised Henry’s true ascension to the realm of the genuine worker. It was as objectively good an angle you will ever see in the wildly subjective world of professional wrestling, in which Henry consummately veered from the amiable and humble to the destructive and psychopathic - his career in wonderful microcosm.

With real tears in his eyes, the fans rained down chants “Thank you, Henry!” Henry, wasting nothing, wore an intentionally naff salmon suit to put the bit over the edge, in a tacit acknowledgement of his limitations. He was never the best in the ring, he seemed to suggest - even now, he didn’t even look the part. Affectionate chants of ‘Sexual Chocolate!’ boomed around the arena. He had them in his proverbial palm.

And then: he levelled John Cena with the World’s Strongest Slam in a contender for wrestling’s greatest ever ruse. Wrestling is one big ruse. That angle was such a monumental achievement.

News broke this week of Henry’s real, unceremonious retirement (he was never going to follow the fake one, astutely so).

What is Henry’s legacy?

Not the best - at all - when the numbers are crunched, Henry’s highs dwarf the lows, perhaps because he was never as profoundly overexposed as those he shared such epic tenure with. Even those who never generally “got it” - as the faint praise in this article suggests - absolutely cannot begrudge him that.

Ultimately, somehow, his legacy isn’t that of a flop. For that, Henry deserves credit as herculean as his strength.