The search to find Arabian Facebuster's next Rocky Mountain Thunder aka the next World's Worst Worker is officially ON!!! The purpose and goal of said search is remarkably simple: Find a grappler both as inept, incompetent, and perversely endearing as Rocky Mountain Thunder to amaze and entertain the Facebuster Nation with his spot botching escapades and, in the process, inspire top notch blog fodder from yrs truly Malibu Sands.
Gunny sack with unidentified and curiosity piquing contents preferred but not required.
Our first contestant is from the American Wrestling Association (no surprise there). To summon and paraphrase the putrid and predictable announcing stylings of Rod Trongard, "He is a 247 pounder hailing from San Diego, CA." His name?!?
"The California Kid" Tommy Jammer.
Jammer's opponent: AWA jobber extraordinaire Tony Leone. This match emanates from Rochester, MN sometime in 1990. The AWA was truly on its death bed at this time, taping months of worth of television for ESPN in Rochester, MN and maybe running a occasional and surely poorly attended card in the Twin Cities. That was the extent of the so called Major League of Professional Wrestling. Rod Trongard had flown the coup, leaving Lee Marshall to befoul the play-by-play with his baritone stench and a rotating gang of idiots to bring down the color commentating. Joining Lee for this encounter, Arabian Facebuster's favorite geriatric killer Verne Gagne. As expected, Marshall and Gagne blather on nostalgically about the AWA's past...as there wasn't much for them to fawn over in the ring or in the promotion's present configuration.
In no particular order, what I dislike so much about Jammer is (a) His beach bum physique and aura that makes him look like a cheap knockoff of the already poor quality Dynamic Dudes; (b) the apprehension, timidness, hesitation, and uncertainty he demonstrates in working with his opponent; (c) other than a couple of headlock sequences that Leone makes appear adequate, his conspicuously limited and bland offensive repertoire; (d) that he's supposedly a high flyer but wrestles the entire contest on the mat; (e) the fact he has four "m"'s in his name; and (f) his wrestling attire which he looks to have procured at a thrift-store or in the prop room of gay porno production company.
You know, after watching this clip a couple of times I have: (a) Concluded Jammer really isn't the caliber of Rocky Mountain Thunder; and (b) Determined that I detest Tommy Jammer more than anybody else in the world today...other than maybe the ex-wife Tommy up and left and the daughter who he abandoned and failed to pay child support on.
Okay, so Jammer isn't capable of filling Rocky's
Tune next week for another installment of our quest to find the next World's Worst Worker!