Monday Night FLAW: How the good showed the bad what was ugly

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They say Virginia is for lovers. Based on last night's RAW, they clearly didn't mean lovers of professional wrestling.

Poor Geno.

In case you haven't read his scathing recap of Monday Night RAW (see it here), The General was miserable for most of the three hours he was forced to sit through it. And, judging by some of the reactions in the comments section, I can see he was not alone in his misery.

I wasn't that crazy about it, myself.

But I think it served a purpose. While it did little to convince me the Extreme Rules pay-per-view (PPV) is worth ordering (it's not), I did think this was a perfect episode to burn to DVD in the off-chance that someone would come along and ask for an example of how to do things wrong in professional wrestling.

As well as how to do them right.

One of the most glaring examples was the match between Antonio Cesaro and Zack Ryder. Both are former United States Champions and both have been doing the job after their start-stop push. The big difference? Cesaro kept his mouth shut and played it straight, while Ryder whined incessantly on Twitter.

Cesaro pinned Ryder, his first win in weeks, and appears to be back in the good graces of management as a result.

Also on last night's broadcast, we had John Cena teasing Ryback, while Damien Sandow poked fun at Randy Orton. The champ was here and tried to emulate The Rock with a cheap impersonation that sounded uncannily like his scratchy Johnny Ace voice.

It was funny for about eight seconds, and that's grading on a four-second curve.

Sandow, on the other hand, reworked "The Viper's" theme song (watch it here) both playfully and creatively to advance his character, as well as their match. If you've seen Orton's wooden performances lately, you'll know he needs all the help he can get.

Bottom line: One went on way too long and the other wasn't on long enough.

Finally, we had the ongoing feud between Brock Lesnar and Triple H as they get ready for St. Louis, the same place Mark Henry tries to settle his score with Sheamus. I understand that Lesnar is a part-timer with a big contract and limited appearances.

That's not my issue.

Violence is the cornerstone of professional wrestling. I get it. One wrestler tries to inflict enough damage on the other to the point where he (or she) is unresponsive for three or more seconds. There's just no way around it, but it's cloaked in the spectacle of theater.

Not when you remove it from its context.

Watching Brock Lesnar storm through the WWE corporate office while terrorizing its employees was unsettling. While it doesn't get a lot of press, workplace violence is an epidemic in the United States. There is a reason we have the expression "going postal."

Connecticut -- where Titan Towers is located -- recently had the highest number of workplace violence deaths, as well as the highest percentage of deaths related to workplace violence incidents out of all six states in New England.

A staggering statistic when you consider Massachusetts has nearly twice the population.

Watching people who have nothing to do with in-ring activities being assaulted or cowering in fear is inappropriate and not the kind of heel heat that does this business any good. I miss the old days when guys just tore up the manager's office at the arena or slammed someone's face into the buffet trays.

Even a face full of poo will do.

Not that I enjoyed watching Sheamus getting belted by Mark Henry, but at least it was in and around the squared circle. Seriously though, having gotten my old man's belt as a kid, my hat is off to the "Great White" for eating the strap from one of the strongest motherfuckers on the planet.

That shit was wicked.

Considering Extreme Rules is less than two weeks away (May 19), I would expect WWE to be sprinting toward the finish line. Instead, it just seems to be chugging along. That means creative knows it's going to be a hot pile of garbage, or perhaps they figure we're going to order it no matter what they do in the home stretch.

Either way, O'Doyle Ryback rules. Whatever the hell that means.

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