Home | Columns & Rants | Satire | Entertainment | Media | Archives | Forum
by Marx Rayner
Dear Bryan Danielson

I'm not perfect. Not even close. I sleep until 1 PM in the afternoon on my days off. I put mayonnaise on everything. I shower every three days. I called in a bomb threat to my local chapter of the Easter Seals charity group just to see the staff members try and corral all the retards into an organized escape.

But still, none of that warrants the kind of dicking over I received recently.

After Summerslam bored a hole into my pancreas the size of a crater, I went to bed, forgoing my midnight snack run to McDonalds. When I awakened at 1 PM, I immediately took down my away message (nobody IMs me even when it's not up) and checked 411mania wrestling. Mundane stories about Summerslam, the dark match, off air notes, Raw preview, bla bla bla....and then I found it. The news that shook me to my very core.

You, Bryan Danielson, the American Dragon, former ROH World Champion for 15 months, ROH's final Pure Champion....had signed with WWE.


Those four dots represent my mental state at that point. Blank. I reread the words to make sure I wasn't dyslexic and had juxtaposed them somehow. Then I started to see colors. Hues of red and green and pink enveloped my eyes. My world started spinning. My air grew short. Then downstairs, I heard my sister Morgan yell "Mom! I have a new boyfriend! And he's a Jeff Hardy fan too!".

This was too much for me. I fell out of my ergonomic chair and presumably I passed out on the floor of my bedroom, thankfully having the forethought to not land on my stack of FIP DVDs.

I awakened moments later to find Morgan knelt over me, her big fat tits nearly in my face. If I haven't seen her four eyed kisser, I would have been elated and squeezed at them, but thankfully....well, let's forget I mentioned THAT little anecdote.

But Morgan, for all of her deficiencies as a human being in terms of rationality and snarkiness, was genuinely concerned for me. With her brushing back my hair with an upset look in her eyes, she asked me what had happened. I figured to tell her would only hurt more, being that she's a die hard WWE supporter who loves "sportz-entertainment!!!~!!1!" and I don't. The last thing I want to do in my horizontally pained state was give her more ammunition. But her being upset just reminded me that I nearly injured myself. So to tell her about your signing may make her smile and sympathize with my loss. Here was our conversation:

"Morg, I just saw a story online. Bryan Danielson signed with WWE."


"....Bryan Danielson? From Ring of Honor?"

"The fat Japanese guy that you went as for Halloween?"

"No, that was Takeshi Morishima."

"Oh....well, I dunno. Glad you're alive though."

And then she ran out of the room to call her new boyfriend, apparently. I lay there pondering this crazy situation. I barely had the strength to get up and sit back in the chair, and used the remaining energy I had to play "Bad Day" by Daniel Powter. I put it on loop and continued to think about this development.

First off, I don't get why you would leave Ring of Honor behind. You achieved so much there and the fans all appreciated you as a top star. We all buy into you and helped make you great! Think of the precious memories: you in the first main event with Low Ki and Daniels, your eighty minute match with Austin Aries, the night you knocked off Jamie BAH GAWD Noble to become Champion, you headed the charge against Chris Hero and CZW, defeating Lance Storm in a dream match, putting over Homicide in another classic to lose the title....I mean, it's all so glorious. Those who watched those matches and appreciated them will never forget the indelible mark you left on our lives.

But now you sold out. You now work for the Evil Empire and it's cruel dictator, one Vince McMahon. You know Vince. The very Vince who buries the little guys and makes sure that they look inferior to his steroid-expanded musclemen! Yes, THAT Vince McMahon!

The same Vince McMahon who stole CM Punk and...um gave him four World Titles. The same Vince McMahon who poached the likes of Paul London and Brian Kendrick and, err...umm, made them two time Tag Team champs together. The same Vince McMahon who took away Alexis Laree, rebranded her Mickie James and she...ahhh....won a lot of Women's Titles and became world reknowned. The same Vince McMahon that poached Matt Sydal, christiened him Evan Bourne and....yeah, he hasn't won ANYTHING yet!

See? Vince takes ROH guys and keeps them buried in the midcard forever! Because they're small and athletic! He's done it to Sydal, and he's going to do it to you!

And forget about being called American Dragon or Bryan Danielson. No, Vince is going to rechisel your statue to fit his image more. Expect some delightfully unique name like Dylan Wohler or Ronnie Dainton or Joseph Merrick. Yeah, maybe he'll give you a mask and call you "The Elephant Man" Joseph Merrick, where you're so hideous that people would be frightened if they saw your real face. So you hide behind a computer and make fun of talented writers that....wait, wrong Merrick. Long story. My bad.

There's only two reasons you would go to WWE, Bryan. It's the same two that everyone uses.
One is, it's the money. A downside guarantee of at least $150,000 a year is enough to make anyone leave behind the romantic aura and magical glory that comes from working in rec centers and bingo halls that smell like old women and dirty socks. I myself have never understood why one could leave behind that kind of intimate atmosphere, one where the fans who love you the most kindly remind you of how badly you fucked up a move. Giving up 400 smart fans to work in front of 11,000 who are just waiting for Cena to come out so you can triple or quadruple your paycheck? THAT is selling out. And it makes you weak, Bryan. If this is the true reason you left ROH for WWE, then I have lost so much respect for you. Granted, in a week, I'll probably forget and I'll be cheering you the minute you arrive on my TV, but for now, I am so fucking mad at you and am writing this to express that anger! GRRRR!

Or maybe, it's the other reason. If you grew up a wrestling fan, you've always wanted to work for the company you watched as a kid. I'm sure you watched WWE as a kid, idolizing Bret Hart and Shawn Michaels and Owen Hart and, if you were like me, Jimmy Del Ray and Hakushi. So I can kind of understand where you're coming from. But it's not worth it, man. It's not worth it to go from top dog in the mecca of athletics just to be a bit player in the corporate soap opera. I think that if you had even a modicum of integrity, you'd give up on your childhood dream, just so us smarks will respect you more. It's not asking much. We love you, man. Lose the dream. Please.

So this is what lies ahead for you, American Dragon. You may job to Mike Knox. You may job to Ezekiel Jackson. You may job to Chris Masters. And we'll be sitting behind our computers, spittaking our Java Monsters when we see those statements in the written results. We'll ignore it when you defeat Charlie Haas or Chavo Guerrero or William Regal, because we'll be too busy anticipating the next loss. It's just how we operate. And forget about contending for titles, because it's not going to happen. It doesn't happen for ROH guys, just look at my previous example with Sydal! Leave your mannerisms, your moveset, and your colorful history behind you and step up to be redesigned to WWE's liking.

And enjoy that six-figure salary that comes with it. If you have any shame at all, you'll cry when you get paid every week, knowing what you had to give up to earn that money.

And when you're future endeavored, ROH will be waiting. And so will I.


Mutilatingly yours,

Marx Rayner spends his days watching wrestling and bitching about it afterward. His nights are pretty much the same, except he bitches while watching it. His mavenism of the business has left him with no time for dating, social activity, or proper hygiene, but he assures us that this is strictly by choice. His myspace is http://www.myspace.com/pwn3dbymarx, and encourages you to be his friend. He'd do the same for you.

Bookmark and Share


November 2006


by Sean Carless

With Christmas just around the corner, what better way to spend your few remaining dollars (left over after the seemingly infinite line-up of fucking pay-per-views ) then on the following "quality WWE merchandise!" After all, if they don't move this stuff, and fast, stockholders just might get time to figure out what "plummeting domestic buyrates" means!... and well, I don't think they need to tell you what that means! (Seriously. They're not telling you. Everything is fine! Ahem.).