Thanks to the magic of the internets, your humble correspondent was able to view the thrilling debut of Wrestling Society X on MTV, despite my utter lack of cable television. Rumor and speculation have been rampant, a constant muttering hum among the wrasslin' intelligencia: would WSX's measly half-hour time slot be buried in reality-show booshwa? Would this be some backyard spot-happy garbage-wrestling mess? And would the WSX be able to mount a credible challenge to WWE or even our beloved TNA? Having viewed the product, I can safely conclude: No, sorta kinda, and god fuck no.
The show opens with a runty bald hardcore type skanking around the ring and bellowing inanely. This is apparently one Fabian Kaelin. He's annoying, and he's your ring announcer.
First match: Matt Sydal (a heel of some sort) versus Jack Evans (a breakdancing face of some sort). Evans claims to "represent" Parkland "P-Town" Washington. I don't know where that is. Zakk Wylde from Black Label Society, rather than playing his patented brand of sub-Sabbath Biker Rock, sits in on commentary. I hope this doesn't happen when The Clipse show up in a few weeks. The match scurries along nicely in a spinny-kicky spot-happy sort of way. These two fellows are pretty decent high-fliers, and the "crowd" is the loudest dozen people I've ever heard. Perhaps the post-production wizards at MTV had something to do with that...
Zakk Wylde claims that this is "the same fight" he saw back in the schoolyard at the St. Aloysius Catholic School. St. Aloysius must be the patron saint of Gay Playground Brawls.
Jack Evans eventually wins with a particularly spinny bit of spinniness, and hits on Matt Sydal's girlfriend. She's got that Tori Spelling horseface thing going on, and thus should go pretty far in the world of Wrestling.
Next up is a montage of pretty horrific promos. These guys all seem really talented in the ring, but there's less personality going on than in TNA's X Division. Even Justin Credible, who really should have learned how to rock the mic by now, can only grit his teeth and toss out half-hearted crotch chops. In their defense, the brutal time restrictions and the montage approach to interviewing make it damn near impossible to show off one's acting skills.
The promos dispensed with, we move on to the main event. It's an epic monument of schmozz-ery: A ten-man Royal Rumble ladder match (!) in which the ring is surrounded by tables (!!), weapons (!!! even though they mainly seem to be those powder-filled acoustic guitars favored by Jeff Jarrett and the Honky Tonk Man), an exploding cage (!!!!), and a glass box full of electricity(!!!!!???).
Here's how it went down: Bald guy shouting and skanking, Justin Credible! ECW! ECW! Teddy Hart! Throwing bottles! METAL! Punch! Kick! Kick! Punch! Moonsault! OMG! It's Kaos (who?)! METAL! Shouting! Double Clothesline! Partying! OMG! Shooting star press! Here comes Vampiro! METAL!!! (Vampiro, BTW, is "one of the biggest stars in Mexico," and judging by his Jeff Hardy-esque paunch, this is not far from the truth) Punchpunchpunchkick! Chokeslam! Commercials! Puma shows up! Eliminated! Some other dudes show up! METAL! METAL AGAIN! It's 6-PAC! BOOOOOOO!!!!! "No one in this ring has held more titles than 6-Pac!" (Except perhaps for Justin Credible, who has eleven titles to 6-Pac's, er... six) 6-Pac cleans house! Inexplicably! Bronco Buster! Some redneck enters the ring! Country? OMG IT'S NEW JACK!!!!! METAAAAALLLLLL!!!!! (hip-hop?) Half the crowd (six people) marks out for New Jack. Goodbye redneck! New Jack gives chase, eliminates himself! Guitar shot to Referee! Lame! OMG?! Power Slam! Moonsault! "Where is New Jack going?" Good question! Suplex into box of electricity!!! OMG!!! "What is going on?" Another good question! New Jack elbow drop through a table! OMG!!! What are those crates doing there? Another table! "How the hell do we keep up with all this action?" ANOTHER good question! GodDAMN these announcers are insightful! It's Youth Suicide! PUNK RAWK! He's the tenth man! Already? Bucket of tacks! Four men left! What?! Here come the ladders! Powerbomb on the tacks! OMG! 6-Pac has a contract! Youth Suicide off the ladder onto the exploding cage OMGx2!!!!! Vampiro has the other contract! 6-Pac vs. Vampiro for the title next week! Whatevs!
And we're done... Christ, what just happened? I need to lie down.
So... better than I expected. All of these kids seem like REALLY TALENTED WRESTLERS... in the RING. Outside of it, they pretty much suck. It's a ton of action, and I don't see why I'm actually supposed to care what happens. Maybe if they could get those tightwads at MTV to give 'em an hour they could relax a bit and actually tell a story or two.
Ah, well. It's WAY better than ECW.