So I'm in the gym on Tuesday morning at the ass-crack of dawn, for reasons you probably wouldn't care about, when I run into one of my iron amigos.
We'll call him "Paul," which makes sense, since that's his name.
Anyway, Paul opens with one of those endearing remarks that men like to sling at one another.
Saw you couldn't hit that last rep ... pussy.
I kept juking and jiving, oblivious to his critique. That's when Paul asked me why I had a little extra pep in my step, considering I was up before the rooster.
Brock Lesnar came back last night.
Now I'm sure I'm not the only Cagesider who has "friends" who don't watch wrestling. So it should come as no surprise that I had to explain why it was a big deal. After all, "The Beast" was back, and I was already licking my chops at the prospect of LOLCENALOSES at SummerSlam.
But it didn't go quite the way I expected.
Paul: Brock came back, eh? What did he do, like body slam someone?
Hulk: No, he just stood there and mugged for the camera.
Paul: That's it?
Hulk: Well ... uh ... his manager Paul Heyman yelled a bunch of words.
Paul: Then what?
Hulk: Uh ... then he'll come back in a few weeks and uh, stand around some more.
I was suddenly out of my comfort zone and Paul was nobody's fool. He could smell the fear, so he went for the kill.
Paul: How long was he gone?
Hulk: Since WrestleMania!
Paul: Oh right, he beat "that dead guy."
Hulk: Undertaker, yeah.
Paul: Good match?
Hulk: Not really, was kinda sloppy.
Paul: Oh. Well what did he do before that?
Hulk: Uh ... I can't remember.
Paul: So why are you so excited that he's back?
I panicked. I admit it. So I just hulked up and yelled, BAH-ROCK, LEZZNURR!
That was it. That was my big argument. Brock Lesnar came back to WWE and stood around for about 10 minutes and I lost my shit. Just like the time I handed over 60 bucks to watch Alistair Overeem kick his liver into the parking lot of the MGM Grand back at UFC 141.
I didn't care if he couldn't fight mixed martial arts (MMA) anymore, I wanted to see him compete.
Nobody really ever asked me why.
Good thing, too, because it's clear I don't have an answer. Lesnar wrestlers 2-3 times a year, barely says anything, and costs WWE a few million dollars, which should be used to pay for all the ancillary services that were slashed during the latest round of budget cuts.
I should probably despise him.
But I don't. I leave that up to my wife, who claims Brock Lesnar would be a great fit for the Billy Madison sequel, assuming O'Doyle still rules.
I'm not even bothered that John Cena already handily defeated him because fuck the record books, what have you won for me lately? Yes, I know the answer is "everything," but the distance between now and their Extreme Rules showdown (preceded by this epic promo) is wide enough to nullify any "been there, done that" argument.
Especially after "The Streak."
Lesnar is a star in every sense of the word. His "look" helps distract from his deficiencies as a pro wrestler and he can get a reaction just by showing up. He has "it" -- something you can't train for in the gym, or practice in front of the mirror. It's either there or it isn't.
Brock Lesnar is back and I'm excited about it. I'm not sure why, but that won't stop me from opening my wallet.
Maybe that hefty price tag is worth it after all.