In wrestling, time is a jet plane, it moves too fast.  Typically, you’d see three decades’ worth of change in five years’ time.  Looking at 1980 wrestling from a 1985 prism is kind of scary, as 1980 appears to be nothing more than your grandfather’s wrestling.  And while the late 1980s did not see as drastic a change as the earlier half of the decade, wrestling in the early 1990s had evolved considerably from where it was in 1985.  Some of the evolution (like giving the ball to the “smaller” Bret Hart) might have been forced on the WWF by the Vince McMahon steroid trial, but regardless of whether change was voluntary, change came.  And nothing would prepare the 1992 fans for what they were in store for five years later when arguably Steve Austin and his anti-hero persona in WWF Attitude became the biggest superstar in the history of wrestling. 

            Change has always been the key to keeping the wrestling business flourishing.  We’ve reached a period, however, of great creative drought and stagnation.  We are more than half-way through the decade, and any changes over the last five years are only for the worse (e.g., no Rock, no Austin).  HHH, who deserves a ton more credit for showing ass than he receives from most smarks, has been the top guy since the start of the millennium.  Belt or no belt, HHH is the star, and we’re never allowed to forget that.  Jim Ross must have reminded five times us during Wrestlemania 22 that HHH is the self-declared, yet certainly qualified “King of Kings.”  (By the way, not that anyone in WWE cares, that moniker is almost certainly considered blasphemous by some of its audience.  They should shy away from the religious imagery.  I know, I know, “It’s a symbol.”)  The monotony has led to a great downturn in North American business, and things don’t appear to be turning around too quickly.  In fact, I’d argue things aren’t going to turn around until wrestling takes its next evolutionary step.  I’m not arrogant enough to say that I know what the step will ultimately be, but I think I know of a step worth attempting.  It might not pan out, but in my calculus, the benefits outweigh the risks.  I think that John Cena should be pushed simultaneously as Raw’s top face and top heel.

            In some ways, the Calgary Stampede ppv years ago paved the way for this kind of booking.  When, in Canada, Steve Austin, the WWF’s top babyface, led his team against the Hart Foundation, the WWF’s top heels, the teams reversed roles.  Austin and company were heels, the Harts were faces.  I see John Cena being taken a step further, by promoting him on the same show as top face and top heel (as opposed to booking by the arena – i.e., Cena is a face in one building, and a heel in a different building – instead, I think he should be pushed as face and heel in the same building).  In effect, I think WWE should do everything in its power to manipulate the crowd into the split reaction.  Passion is the name of the game.  And fans are passionate about Cena.

Merchandise will continue to sell if you keep reaching kids.  (I’ve witnessed that kids are buying tons of Cena merchandise – one at the Washington, D.C. Raw in late February had at least three or four Cena-related items.  He seemed to have a hard time with the vociferous anti-Cena reaction emanating from me and others.)  A full-fledged Cena turn, which might be in the works, will destroy that.  Abandoning the kids will kill a stream of revenue.  For that reason, I reject the idea that it’s necessarily a good idea to turn Cena full-fledged heel.

If Cena continues to play to his fans with the “I love you guys, fuck all those who don’t like me” mentality, his “chain gang” should remain intact, at least until this Cena character runs its course (and I’d argue it doesn’t have the longevity of Austin or Rock).  That’s a major source of revenue for the company, and can’t be sacrificed lightly.  But what if at the same time Cena plays to his younger and female fans, Cena heels all over the post-puberty male crowd that gives him a hard time.  Cena can portray them as out of touch with today’s youth.  In contrast, Cena can relate to the kids.  These 30- and even 20-year-old guys, man, they’re from another generation.  They don’t understand.  They’re fucking square.  Losers.  Cena can totally heel on that segment of the audience (the ones buying the tickets and pay-per-views) while maintaining his anti-hero babyface persona for the kids (who convince their parents to spend globs of money on merchandise).  The idea is that the post-puberty males will continue to watch Cena in order to root against him, as a top heel.

Last night provided a hint, but not conclusive evidence, that this might be where WWE is headed.  Cena’s Al Capone entrance certainly lends itself to the idea that he views himself as an outlaw, loved by many, hated by others.  (It’s worth noting that the “others” – Elliot Ness, et al. are squares, as are the fans booing Cena.  Al Capone was a murderous gangster, but he’s also a man who fed the depression-ravaged Chicago population when the government did not a thing.)  Nobody has ever been pushed on an episodic wrestling series as simultaneously the organization’s top heel and top babyface.  Can it work?  I think it has enough potential to be worth trying.  It’s time to go back to the drawing board.  Wrestling’s 21^st century North American slump has to reverse sooner or later, but only after Vince McMahon (or perhaps TNA or another as yet unknown organization) does what has always been done to take wrestling to the next step: you have to risk uncharted territory.  2006 Heel of the Year: John Cena.  2006 Face of the Year: John Cena.  It’s not impossible.  I hope it gets a decent shot at fruition.