In the past couple of years, I’ve made no bones about knocking the so-called women’s evolution/revolution/whateverthey’recallingitthisweek in WWE. It has nothing to do with women taking a more prominent role on Raw and Smackdown; I’m all for that. Rather, it is the incessant, never ending over the top reminders we’re given about how amazing WWE is for doing this. By golly, it seems women the world over are now being given amazing opportunities they’ve never been afforded before, almost solely due to Stephanie McMahon waking up one day and deciding the women in her family’s company should be featured on pro wrestling shows of all things.
Just grates my nerves. I’m not the only one – during the recent WWE Evolution PPV, my wife asked me if she was supposed to send a thank you note to the McMahons for being so kind as to allow women to have their own event. “The way they are talking about this,” she mused, “is like all us lowly members of the so-called weaker sex are now able to vote thanks to their generosity.”
She seems to see it the same way I do.
But it hasn’t all been a bad thing. Take the Barry Horowitz pats on the back aside, and it’s actually been a good thing, leading to a more interesting product in the women’s division than perhaps there’s ever been. Seeing women such as Becky Lynch get a chance to entertain us all is something for which I am actually grateful. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that women in the company splashed around in vats filled with gravy and egg nog.
What, you thought I was joking?
Seriously, this is how women were treated in this company. It was accepted by everyone – not just by Vince, but by pretty much everyone in the company, and honestly, by the fans as well. We all hooted and hollered as women were paraded out as nothing more than eye candy like it was the greatest thing we’d ever seen.
This extends more to the fans and those in charge, though. I mean, the ladies themselves obviously also viewed it as acceptable, otherwise they wouldn’t have been out there splashing around in thongs in a kiddie pool filled with milky substances.
And hey, that’s what we’re talking about here today.
Give the WWF props, though – when they told us this was an egg nog match, they really made the effort for it to look like legitimate egg nog. Sprinkling the top with what may well have been honest to goodness nutmeg is the kind of attention to detail sorely lacking in lesser wrestling company’s egg nog matches.
Other companies do have those, right?
Also missing would be women such as the amazing Stacy Keibler. Again, not to sound like a totally sexist pig, it is kinda crazy how many truly stunning women have been in this company over the years. In my book, Stacy may have been at the top of that list. I’d often look at her and think she really is too classy to be in this business.
I have zero idea why I ever thought that as she’d always prove me wrong. Seriously, what a skank.
I’m sure some of you lowlifes are going to watch that loop for 15 minutes straight, doing things I never, ever want to know about. Don’t leave messages below, either, or I’ll be smacking you upside the head with the ban hammer.
In comparison, Torrie Wilson coming out and simulating other naughty things with a candy cane seems downright timid in comparison. I can only theorize that Torrie was more concerned with how she was going to win this athletic competition wherein she could only win by pinning her opponent’s shoulders to the mat for the count of three.
You know, in egg nog.
Stacy gets the early upper hand, slapping Torrie across the face then body slamming her into the nog. This wrestling maneuver somehow causes Torrie to lose her top and panties.
I rewound this approximately 37 times, and remain unsure what laws of physics would cause such a sequence of events to transpire.
Soon enough, Stacy is also in the glop, along with the referee as Torrie flings them both into the fray with a mighty hair pull in a rather clumsy spot.
Wait, am I seriously critiquing individual spots in an EGG NOG MATCH?
Mrs. Deal, get Dave Meltzer on the line! I need to know how many stars he rated this bout!
I’m betting it’s less than one!
Torrie takes control in earnest by attempting to drown Stacy. Like legitimately hold her head under
water nog so as to cause her to no longer be able to breathe. C’mon, girl, what is wrong with you?
This is a standard Egg Nog Match, not an Egg Nog Death Match!
Undeterred, Stacy hops on Torrie’s back in a scene right of the old apartment wrestling magazines of the 1970s. Really such things actually existed. As did the following commentary in this particular match:
Jim Ross: “Stacy Keibler has mounted Torrie Wilson. I’ve never said that before in over twenty-five years.”
Jerry Lawler: “Merry Christmas!”
Jim Ross: “Torrie seems to be the more buoyant of the two.”
Jerry Lawler: “Yeah! BOUYANT!”
As if all that wasn’t suggestive enough, next we get more ‘action’ in the form of Torrie spanking Stacy right across her shiny bum. This is accompanied by Lawler screaming the following commentary:
“Yeah, spank her! SPANK HER! I guarantee you she’s been naughty!”
Amazingly, this serves to be Torrie’s finisher, as Stacy falls backwards and is pinned. Mad props to Torrie for properly hooking the leg while applying the cover. Somewhere, I’d like to think Gorilla Monsoon was looking on proudly.
I hadn’t thought of him wearing a Santa hat, but you’re right – he really should be.
Anyway, the next time we all start complaining about another boring Tamina snoozefest or Nia Jax potatoing and putting another women on the shelf, always remember: it used to be worse.
I mean, this was worse, right?
Yeah, I’m not sure either.