The first time I went to see a WWE event was in Glasgow, Scotland around ’93. One end of the fairly large SEC Arena had been cordoned off for the untelevised show and there couldn’t have been more than fifteen hundred people in attendance. No ramp, no pyro, just a simple arch with a black curtain draped over it, the ring surrounded by the old metal grill barricade and some entrance music that sounded like it was coming from a cheap cd player. I don’t remember who fought in the opening match (although 1-2-3 Kid against Kwang sounds familiar) but I definitely recall sitting there feeling that something was wrong for the first ten minutes. Something was different and I couldn’t work out what it was. I looked around at the rest of the audience and everyone else seemed to be enjoying the experience, cheering and booing in all the right places, so I figured it was just me. Maybe it was weird seeing these guys I’d only seen on tv live and in person? Maybe it was sitting on a nasty plastic chair they’d obviously drafted in from a local school for under 7’s and not my usual comfortable sofa? It was then that the first near fall of the night happened and I realised what was wrong. No commentary. Straight after the pinfall attempt no one said “two count and a kickout”. I’m not saying that I was so dumb as to think that there would be ‘live’ commentary, it just never occurred to me that the two things were separate. The words went with the pictures as far as I was concerned.
Theoretically, sport or sports entertainment on television doesn’t need commentary as you are seeing exactly what would be viewed if you were there. The rationale for describing it obviously stems from the days when radio was the primary media but commentary wasn’t exactly retained as a polite service for the blind while the rest of us received sight in the television age. It had already established itself as both an integral part of the sports experience and, assuming you had skilled broadcasters with amiable personalities, a useful drawing card for your product. Pro-wrestling differentiates from all other sports with the idea of heel and face commentators though this construct has been toned down over the years and is now only used when it suits a specific storyline. It is interesting to note that this ‘youth’ culture on which the WWE relies so heavily is spoken to on its flagship programmes by two post-middle age men (one with a facial defect and the other with some bad plastic surgery), an ex-wrestler who can barely finish a sentence and a former war correspondent with creepiness issues. Luckily, none of the above try to affect a pseudo-street talk approach so at least the presentations have a sense of honesty about them (though I wish JR would stop extolling the virtues of the latest nu metal cd when he quite clearly refuses to listen to anything that doesn’t contain a banjo solo or a washboard).
The first commentary team I encountered was the combination of Jesse ‘The Body’ Ventura and Gorilla Monsoon. This was back in the day before the non-competitive nature of pro-wrestling was used as a ‘smart’ promotional tool so the heel/face divide was defended with terminal ferocity, especially in the commentary box. Monsoon was a decent play by play announcer who knew the basic holds and understood what needed to be said from the face point of view but he relied far too heavily on his stock expressions (“unstoppable force meeting the immovable object”, “intestinal fortitude”, “give me a break”) and his blind company biased towards Hogan made his standpoint predictable and pallid. Not as annoying as Ventura though. Never straying from his heelishness to emphasise the seriousness of a situation (like Lawler did last week on Raw in confronting HHH) Jesse’s swaggering confidence in support of the latest challenger to Hogan and his over the top disgust when they failed to topple him (which they almost always did) only added to the frustration felt by many fans that what was needed was an observational style more in-keeping with ‘real’ sports. What we got, was Vince McMahon.
Long before it was acknowledged on screen that Vince was the ‘boss’, he was portrayed as a humble commentator. Apparently ignorant to the heel/face divide, Vince played his tv character as a cross between sports broadcasting and childish naivety and the main body of colour was added through a combination of Monsoon, former managerial talent Bobby ‘The Brain’ Heenan and more sporadically ex-wrestlers like Mr Perfect, ‘Rowdy’ Roddy Piper and ‘Macho Man’ Randy Savage. Vince’s vocal style was very abrasive and his gravel-voiced enthusiasm became a major bone of contention for WWE viewers, especially considering that he was taking the bulk of the match calling without being either play by play or colour. The PPV broadcasts were done as black tie affairs and were supposedly given the air of after-dinner speaking (except for the time Vince accidentally called Summerslam “Summer-slime”) but the introduction on Monday Night Raw soon put paid to the ‘art’ in the craft and quality conversation was replaced with mild profanity and volume. Though Vince and Savage were Raw regulars, the show belonged to Bobby Heenan (and yes, I am including Tiny Tim in that equation). Much like the way Ventura rooted for any heel that appeared on screen, Heenan excelled in putting forward the agenda of the bad guys but he did it with great comedy and humility, most notably in his capacity as Flair’s advisor in his feud with the newly turned Mr Perfect. Heenan also shined on WWF Wrestling Challenge forming a fabulous ‘old-school’ double-act with Gorilla Monsoon that turned a bland recap show into something quite entertaining.
Two things then happened that changed the face of WWE commentary. Jim Ross was brought in from WCW and latterly Heenan was released (in a nice scene where Monsoon was allowed to kick his long time agitator out of the building and out of the WWF live on Raw). Ross brought with him that professional, Oklahoma-football styling (which we was) seemingly laden with collegiate background information and a good knowledge of holds and takedowns. At the time it was a much needed breathe of fresh air in the commentary box and more changes were to follow. Savage went to WCW to restart his active wrestling career, Monsoon was phased out after a failed partnership with Johnny Polo (who went to ECW to become Raven) and Jim Cornette was added as temporary heel and colour for the Raw broadcasts. However, the WWE needed a more permanent solution.
Memphis wrestling legend Jerry ‘The King’ Lawler had always been one of Vince McMahon’s fiercest critics but his USWA federation was not exactly turning the crowd’s away at the door and needs must when the devil drives. Vince hired Lawler as initially an active talent and programmed him with Bret Hart, mainly because Hart was a popular but colourless worker and Lawler would be a good moth to Hart’s flame. Once Lawler’s feud and the subsequent association with Isaac Yankem DDS (Kane) was over, he moved seamlessly into the commentary booth despite some fan resentment and the constant unfavourable comparison to the departed Heenan. Vince’s final stint on broadcast duty was prior to and during his groundbreaking feud with underling ‘Stone Cold’ Steve Austin. Finally admitting on air that he was the CEO of the WWE, he gradually transformed himself into the ‘Mr McMahon’ character, which rendered his spot on commentary redundant.
Now, we have two shows that are supposedly branded (bespoke and diametrically opposed) but there are striking similarities to the announcing teams. Ex-wrestler on colour, non-wrestler on play by play. Colour leans towards heeldom but recognises right from wrong to avoid pointless discussions like those between Monsoon/Ventura. Fortunately, there are some differences.
Despite both having been replaced at various times (Lawler by Heyman in his Stacey Carter induced contract dispute and JR by Cole after his initial Bells Palsy) it is difficult to imagine Raw long-term without Jim Ross or The King. Even though neither man is the right side of fifty you’ll seldom if ever hear an age-ist remark from the younger elements of the WWE’s fanbase and this is a testament to their abilities and broad appeal. In fact, the main complaints levelled at them is that JR is too much of a company man and only deals in the truth if it suits the WWE and Lawler is a dirty old man with a fixation for ‘puppies’ and a poor line in antiquated humour. Recently, JR has done a commendable job in rededicating himself to his broadcasting and has ironed out a lot of the minor stumbles that he suffered in past years. Lawler has benefited greatly from his unifying disdain for Hassan and Daivari and his now friendly partnership with Ross is far more rewarding as a result.
Over on Smackdown, Michael Cole and Tazz have been struggling to carve out a genuine dual identity for themselves and it shows. Cole has improved as a commentator but he struggles to attractively convey the more extreme elements of human emotion with a sense of realism. His play by play style has remained much the same (except for the inclusion of the words “high and tight”) so maybe it’s simply down to the fact that we are getting used to him or, at the very least, learning to tolerate him. You have to wonder if the roster split ended tomorrow would Cole retain his spot as lead on one of the two main shows or would he be shifted to interviews. Tazz is an odd thing to analyse. His primary charm appears to be that he has difficulty with even the most simple of sentences and he often drifts into surreal flights of fancy that would only be entertaining if you were willing to go along with him. Having been the ‘human suplex machine’ in ECW you’d expect Tazz to know a myriad of holds and throws and he is a useful aid to Cole in this regard but the connection between the two has shown only glimpses of friendship and it will continue to be an uncomfortable union until we know more about them as characters together.
As for the future, it is looking increasingly likely that the next main broadcasters on both shows will come from the active roster and not the trainee commentary teams. Coach is the most likely candidate and a useful performer but I don’t see him as the rightful successor to JR’s headset. It seems unrealistic that Josh Matthews is going to blossom into the shining star of WWE tv and anyone who said Maria should go to the back of the class. I have a few wrestlers in mind that I feel could make the transition from mat to mic but I’ll keep those to myself and let you guys argue over that one.
Just remember this: too many times the commentator’s craft is taken for granted because, if it’s done right, it’s hard to separate between what we hear and what we think. As much as I have the greatest respect for the wrestlers, I have equal respect for the men who have put narrative to their memories.
Lee
