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Submitted by Boss Foxx on Friday, December 29, 2006 at 2:01 AM EST
 Hey! Come on in. It's nice to be here once again. This is my third time here, my third COTM victory. Thanks to all who've supported the Couch when I've been fortunate enough to share it with you. I never thought I'd win one of these. Now that I've won three times, I have an average. I appear on the main page once every eight columns. This is my 24th column. I've written twenty-three On the Couch columns and one Off the Couch. Horrible batting average, but pretty decent COTM average if you ask me. I only write wrestling columns here at Lords of Pain because I believe in LOP and I'm not a total whore, one of those guys or gals who needs so much attention they spam their wrestling scribble over as many wrestling sites as possible. My belief in LOP comes from the quality of the news posted here and the quality writers both on the main page and in the Columns Forum, where I come from. Not only are they quality writers, but quality people. It’s an honor to write alongside the people here. Christmas is now over and I have to say, I felt little more than apathetic at times. All the lights, songs, commercialism... It can get pretty draining. You can just smell the flaming plastic of credit card fires burning at Christmas time. It’s always kind of sad, really. So many people are about to either go without for the next few months because they bought Christmas for in-laws they can't stand or their telephone is going to ring off the hook with creditors demanding money that just isn't there. If you've got money, forget all that. Enjoy it. I would. I picked up extra hours just to provide Christmas for my most excellent son. Thankfully, my lack of Christmas spirit stops there, in my little boy. I spoil him when I can. This year, he got his first keyboard and all the Godzilla figures a kid could ask for. He made out like a little bandit like he does every year. In all honesty, Christmas turned out great for me and the rest of my family. I had a good time. Everyone did. Still, I dread the approach every year and feel the blahs every year. The most excellent girlfriend loves every single holiday imaginable. If they don't have it on the calendar, she makes it up – that’s how into holidays she is. Me, I just don't care until the last moment, the holiday itself. On the first day of Christmas – I didn't give a shit. On the second day of Christmas – I didn't give a shit. You can rest assured that the remaining days of Christmas, I just didn't give a shit. Christmas Eve, I turned mushy and started digging the Christmas vibe and my girlfriend started talking to me again. Those blahs, the apathy I felt for most of the Holiday season, stuck with me though, long enough to inspire a column. Welcome to On the Couch XXIII – The Unsmiling Face of Apathy. Thanks for reading. Enjoy.  Anticipation. The low murmur of voices preceding a few bars of music. Crash. The recognition of entrance music and the sound of thousands rising to their feet. Thunderous applause, the hero’s welcome. Boom, the reverberation of men’s shouts. Slice, the cutting, shrill screams of newly pubescent girls and women. Fanfare. This is a huge, Championship face pop. At least, this is how it used to be. You remember, don't you? The red and yellow of Hulkamania and how we all loved that even if we didn't? Well, what about the “Rocky” chants and the love we showed to “The Rock” when he was our face of faces? You remember that, right? Say Gooollllld – berrrrrrrg with me. Wait, I know. I got it. If you can just recall, momentarily, the sound of breaking glass. That’s right, “Stone Cold” Steve Austin, our blue collar, beer ingesting, gladiator of “The Attitude” Era. Arenas vibrated off their foundations when these guys came to the ring. We gave these wrestlers everything we had and more when their music hit. We gave them all gargantuan face pops. They were the leaders of wrestling, the faces of our past, the faces of our wrestling companies. Not only did they carry gold around their waists more often than not, they carried their companies on their backs by being cool, by being “it”, by being great at what they did, by being the voice of their federation. In addition to responsibilities and accolades, these performers had something else in common, the fans. We backed them whole-heartedly with our cheers and our dollars. A top face wearing the big gold, atop the pinnacle of his wrestling promotion, used to be there for two reasons. One, the brass of the company wanted him there. Two, we wanted him there and kept him there by our positive crowd response and by our purchase of said performer’s apparel, posters, bobble heads, and whatever other goodies the marketing trolls came up with. If we didn't latch on to a federation’s top face champion, that man turned heel sooner than later or lost the belt until he was ready – until we were ready, to accept the plan. Top champion faces have jobs to do, above and beyond all other talents on the roster. They open and close shows – meaning they start off your Raw or Smackdown with a big chunk of your time in some form or another and then finish their night in the main event. They are the Alpha and the Omega of a wrestling show. These are the guys who put butts in seats. Your Rocks, Austins, Stings, Hogans, Flairs and other top of the pops are also responsible for book signings, fan interactions, and appearances on Leno, Letterman, Kimmel, and other such shows. They're the face of your company, the reflection of great, cool, strong, heroic. They bring people from the outside, inside for your company. More often than not these days, they work in Hollywood and try to bring fans from the movies back to the ring with them. For your gold carrying top face, it’s not just working a crowd; it’s working the whole world. As far back as I can remember, the top face with the big gold, the “one” had the fans near-full support in and out of the ring. You didn't hear boos. You didn't hear the crowd go back and forth, seesawing their support between the heel and the top face in a match. When the face began hulking up to overcome the odds and his opponent that night, there wasn't a resounding groan ricocheting off each rafter. There wasn't the look of dismay or disgust when the top face won his hard fought victory in the faces of the live crowd. No, back in the day, if you were the “one” we respected you and showered you with support and gratification as best we could. What the hell happened? I'm not ready to accept the blame for this. I don't think it’s the fans that went wrong. If we're not to blame, then who is? Vince McMahon. It’s like the man in charge, the man upstairs, doesn't care anymore. His top face, John Cena, isn't getting the job done. He’s never gotten the job done and yet McMahon sticks with him. If you're Cena, can you be a happy man knowing that your job description is top face and you're obviously not it? You might lose your smile that way. You might be the Unsmiling Face of Apathy.  If you've read me before, you know that I'm not a card-carrying member of the Chain Gang. No matter how much effort John puts into anything and everything he does, I can't hop on the bandwagon with the other fifty percent or so of you and consider myself a John Cena fan. I'll say he’s improved and that’s about all I can really add to the positive side of my thoughts on the Thuganomics Doc. No, I'm one of the guys who’s cried out to the Gods of wrestling, begging for lightning to strike Cena and change him into someone or something that I could get into for a change. I've begged these same Gods for a return to older, better, less spinnerish belts. The Gods haven't listened to me one bit; and for their grievous transgressions against me, they aren't getting my offering of Cheetohs and Rolling Rock until they represent, make some changes. To say that I've completely despised John Cena is an overstatement. I appreciate how hard the guy works. To say that I've despised John Cena as my WWE Title holder is pretty much, dead on. I know he’s improved. I know he’s been the other half of some great matches with Edge. I know he utilizes more and more moves to make him seem more like a wrestler. All that and a box of chocolates, I just can't get into John Cena or the seemingly preposterous, in my opinion, idea of him as my WWE Champion. What is John Cena? He suffers from identity crisis. Is he a rapper? A Marine? A wrestler? A movie star? Why can't I see him if he’s right there on my T.V.? He’s Hulk Hogan. No. Wait! He’s “Stone Cold” Steve Austin. Nope, he’s The Rock. In reality, he’s a bit of all three, but he hasn't caught on like his Superstar peer group. Maybe he’s trying too hard. Maybe Vince pushed him too hard. Either way, quite a few fans in attendance boo Cena or cheer his opponent when Cena is on the card and present. Who is he? He’s John Cena, WWE Champion of Apathy. Vince doesn't seem to care that his mouthpiece, his crown jewel, his supposed Raw leader, can't win over more of the fans. Cena is like the George Bush of wrestling; he divides what he proposes to lead. I may have a problem with Cena, but that isn't even the point of this column. No, the point is that Vince is sticking by a guy who can't get it done. It’s not Cena's fault anymore. He can only do so much. It’s up to Vince and company to “save face” and put John Cena on a shelf for a bit, get him away from the burning light of fame, the magnifying glass over his head, and save him from himself and the position he’s been forced into. Seriously, when can you remember the top face of the company being protected like they protect Cena. He doesn't get the main event as much as he should, him being the top face, poster boy of WWE. He doesn't get the mic time he should get as the top guy. No, HHH and HBK get that. It’s not because they are glass ceilings or any of that crap I hear all the time, but because they are protecting Cena, afraid that Cena can't really do what his job description, the same job description that Hogan, Rock, Austin, Sting, Goldberg, RVD, and others have had in years past, requires him to do. How does Vince push Cena out into the arena each night with a “Go get ‘em tiger” when he knows that his choice to carry the big golden belt is, at best, winning 60 percent of the night’s crowd over? His top face isn't doing the job. It doesn't seem to matter one bit. What was wrong with Edge? Did he sleep with Linda McMahon? If he did, was that so wrong that he had to drop the belt to Cena again? Maybe this apathy on the part of Vince is reason enough to dislike Cena at the fore of the company. If he doesn't care, why should I? I mean, really, who cares? At New Years Revolution, Cena faces “The Samoan Bulldozer”, Umaga, who’s undefeated (hasn't lost by submission or pinfall) since dropping Rosey on his head. I like Umaga. He’s got that cute, I'm an angry Ewok thing going on. Seriously, put his picture up next to any pic of the Lucas Ewoks and you've got your very own “Separated at Birth?” He grunts a lot, shows off his silvery eaters and does big expressive movements – he forgot how to speak English since Three Minute Warning. Umaga’s got pizzazz. He pulls his moves off with flash and buzz, crispness and polish that other wrestlers lack. I enjoy watching his longer, less squashier, matches. The guy can flat-out go for a hefty guy. Makes me miss Rikishi from time to time. His finisher is a thing of beauty, a thumb. It looks kinda stupid in the wrestling world. It is a thumb after all; but if you used it in real life, you'd kill people with it. It’s a thumb in the neck. Why it stops his opponents dead in their tracks? I have no clue. Nobody sells it the same way twice. I did this thing in the Columns Forum entitled WRESTLELECTIONS 2006 last month. It sounded like Cyber Sunday on the outside; but on the inside, it was different – more like a political election. Instead of picking out what skimpy clothes Divas wore to the ring, you could choose your WWE Brand Champions, choose whether or not HHH stayed face, if Cena went heel, if Orton should be the one to retire Ric Flair when it’s all said and done, and plenty of other votes. One of the items people had a chance to vote on was John Cena being the one to end Umaga’s undefeated streak. Fans, according to those who voted in WRESTLELECTIONS 2006, decided that Cena was not the one they wanted to see end Umaga’s undefeated streak. Their comments were universally the same in stating that other’s deserved the “honor” of winning against Umaga, that Cena didn't need the extra push. Basically, most people didn't want to see a Cena pump-sneaker stomp all over Umaga’s good booking fortune. I don't want to see Cena win for a greater reason. It’s time for a heel to lead the company. The belt is the smaller thing at stake. The undefeated streak is the bigger chunk of meat up for grabs, but it’s not the biggest item on the list. Cena losing the belt is small change. Umaga losing the streak is a catastrophe. Cena losing the belt to work things out with the fans is priceless. John Cena desperately needs to work things out with the fans. He needs to come face to face with us, share with us, care with us, and ultimately deal with us one on one. He’s never really done that. It’s not his fault. Vince never gave him the chance because Cena's been pushed so hard and milked so much for all that he has. Cena needs to lose to win. I could handle Umaga as champion. In fact, I'd totally dig on it. I'd actually care about watching Raw Title matches again. Who’s going to be the guy who defeats the undefeated if Umaga beats Cena for the big gold? If Cena wins, the question remains, who cares? Where is the money? Money Vince. Money. Remember money? Yeah, boy, money. Go get it. Awwww, shit you pissed on the rug again. Cena is still champion. I’m worried that Cena will still be the guy after New Year’s Revolution. I fear it. I loathe it. I don't see Umaga having a chance at all. He doesn't talk. Strike one. He’s ugly. Strike two. It’s New Year’s Revolution. Strike three. But, what if Vince cared? In a few months, in our fantasy scenario, someone comes to town and defeats the undefeated Umaga and wins the big gold at the same time. That’s not a nudge, that’s a push with rockets attached to it. I don't care who it goes to, just as long as this person deserves it and needs it. Hell, three matches with HHH can't even give you that kind of velocity. Sorry Batista. Even better, have Umaga defend his title for several months against HHH, HBK, and other top faces as long as they're not John Cena. Cena can go make another movie or something. Then have Umaga drop the belt and the undefeated streak. Not that Undertaker needs anything at all to solidify his chances at the Hall of Fame; but imagine Undertaker/Umaga at 2007’s Wrestlemania. The line for the battle could be, someone is going home a loser for the first time...ever. I realize that the top face thing is hit or miss. Vince McMahon and company plug a guy into the socket and hope for juice and light. It’s not as easy as finding a pebble in the desert, polishing it up real nice, and calling it gold. It’s not always gold, no matter how much you want it to be. I think we are the true jewelers of wrestling though. I do believe. We are the ones who can tell Vince McMahon whether or not he’s got gold or crap in his hands, whether the crap in his hands will one day turn into gold or whether or not he should ultimately flush that crap while he can still get the stink off his hands. John Cena isn't crap. He’s not gold either. I think our split crowd reaction nearly every time out should be clue enough that we like John Cena just fine, but he’s not ready to lead all of WWE, from the Raw flagship. If there isn't another face that WWE can push to the moon right now, let the heels take over. It’s safer that way. More interesting that way. Why not let Umaga bulldoze right on over John Cena at New Year’s Revolution? I fear that the WWE Corporate answer is, no fuckin’ way. Vanilla Ice/Marine man is here to stay until we sell every last armband and visor we have in stock. I say who cares?  One of the things that bothers me is that, no matter what happens at New Year’s Revolution, I'm still going to be a wrestling fan. I'll still keep shelling out buckage for the PPVs and still sit my ass in front of the TV between the Monday evening hours of 9 and 11 for Raw and the Friday night hours of 8 to 10 for Smackdown. I'm a fan. It’s what I do. No matter how shitty things get, no matter my distaste for the product, I always find a small something or other to keep me watching, glued to the tube. My apathy for the main event title scene is par for the course these past two years or so. I love wrestling but don't give a flying poo about the top of the game. Look how many times WWE’s plugged an older wrestler into the top spot as the WWE or World Heavyweight Champion. Mysterio, Eddie, Benoit, Booker T, and JBL. These are all “Thanks for Playing” title runs. I enjoy the careers of many of these guys, Benoit especially, but question whether or not any of them should ever have won the big gold in WWE. The “Thanks for Playing” title run is an indifference to all that has come before it. In the past, others have deserved this honor but never received it. Names like “The Million Dollar Man” and Piper immediately spring to mind. It’s not only a slap in the face to the superstars of old; it’s a slap in the face to our senses and sensibilities of today. We've been trained for years that Booker T just didn't have it, that JBL was best in a tag team with Simmons, that Benoit and Eddie were midcard at best, and Mysterio was just too damned small – which he still is. The logic behind these choices looks like this when unjumbled: The fans like them, who cares? The other option WWE has chosen for its champions is force-feeding us Batistas, Ortons, Cenas, and Lashleys – oh my! Batista doesn't really count here. He’s the success of the group. I've already covered Cena. Lashley will survive. Orton is the one worth mentioning. Man, they pushed Orton down our throats with a jackhammer, didn't they? We couldn't stomach Orton's monster push, we gagged, so WWE pulled the plug. It’s sad too. He suffered so much because of that yanked plug. It’s taken him pretty much up until this past year to shake that baggage off and become the guy that WWE can really go to if needed. Randy is ready, but that doesn't change the fact that many of us still have that Randy vomit taste in our mouths to this day. And that is what I'm often left with, a vomit taste. What do I do? I grab a Coke, take a gulp, and swish it around while I watch WWE title matches. I know that much of the rest of the program is going to please me. I also know that things will change, like they always do. Cena won't be champion forever. I know that one day, Vince will wake up and listen to us fans again - unless the rumors in the wrestling posts are true, that Vince truly has lost his mind.  Thanks as always for taking time out of your busy lives to read On the Couch. It’s always a pleasure to hear what you have to say about all that I've taken the time to say; so, send feedback. I really appreciate it. Agree, disagree? Speak up either way. Knowing what’s on your mind helps me write this column. You can reach me at [email]LeviathansCouch@aol.com[/email] I guess there is little to add other than my wish for all of you to be safe this New Years. You don't have to drive drunk just because you're drunk, own a car, and happen to hold the keys. Crash at your buddy’s pad instead of crashing into an embankment or the two oncoming headlights, the ones with the horn blaring, and the people inside are screaming. If you've got a loved one, crash with them, much softer and warmer. Happy New Year. *NEW GALLERY* AMAZING!! More Uncensored Kelly Kelly Bikini Photos! Very Rare!
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