WWE No Mercy 2017 Review

Incidentally, it's 'squib' - a sort of firework. Don't get them damp.

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There's a slogan frequently used in the travel industry: 'Book now to avoid disappointment!' As anyone who has lived for more than five minutes can tell you, disappointment can be evaded as easily as death. It's a crushing inevitability, and only the latter is a release from the former.

If slightly modified, the maxim could have some practical applications for modern-day WWE: 'Book sensibly to avoid disappointment'. Current evidence suggests this is just as much of an impossibility as the previous scenario, if not somehow more so. There's impossible, and then there's impossible.

The only reliable mantra anyone should live by is 'expect disappointment to avoid disappointment'. With No Mercy, WWE's universe of usual skeptics were uncharacteristically duped into believing the hype, not their head. Longed for it. Got it. Sh*t.

Things got off to a much more promising start than SummerSlam at least, with fans actually in attendance for Elias' violent anti-capitalist ballad, as he easily saw off Apollo Crews. Whether that was actually worth turning up on time for or not is debatable, but like every pre-show encounter, it served its purpose. That is, to sell some sort of fast food. Would unsigned indie crooner Elias be pleased that's he's effectively advertising a national brand of pizza emporiums? Tough luck, really.

Editorial Team
Editorial Team

Benjamin was born in 1987, and is still not dead. He variously enjoys classical music, old-school adventure games (they're not dead), and walks on the beach (albeit short - asthma, you know). He's currently trying to compile a comprehensive history of video game music, yet denies accusations that he purposefully targets niche audiences. He's often wrong about these things.