#WWE Magazine

[baddawg94]

Edge and Christian

Hardy boys

2000’s WWF Magazine

[wrestlinghistorywithkay]

Drew McIntyre posing for WWE Magazine’s ‘ Jerk Of The Month ’ segment, August 2010.

[litafan4ever]

AJ Lee For WWE Magazine (2013)

[blowflyfag]

WORLD WRESTLING ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE :  NOVEMBER 2002

SOLITARY HELL 

By Keith Elliot Greenberg

Will Kane’s Fellow Freaks Still Be There For His Comeback?

The months had been long and cruel. Every morning, Kane reached for his injured bicep muscle, squeezing it, flexing it, wondering if it would feel the way it did when he’d been at the top of WWE. There were days when he was ready to quit, convinced that he’d never be the man who’d held the WWE Championship in 1998. Pain shot up and down his arm, from the wrist to the shoulder blade, and Kane would scream in agony, frustration and anger at his inability to get back in the ring and trample his foes. 

At night, he would sleep restlessly, sometimes imagining that he was back at full capacity, crooking his arm under an adversary’s chin and clamping on the pressure, wringing an opponent’s head until their mouth hung open and the blood vessels burst above their eyebrows.

Then, there were the other dreams, the ones in which Kane was ambushed by his enemies, his arm draped around the ring post or through the gap in the center of a folding chair. Always, his opponents would yank his arm, stretching the tendons until they tore. They would lay his elbow on the ground and come down on it with both boots, or lift the ring stairs aloft, plunging the steel steps onto the injured area. 

At times, the dream seemed like a movie, with Kane observing his own ruin as part of the audience. The clamor of the crowd would dissolve into numbed silence. THe only noise would come from the objects smashing against his body, the grunts and whoops of his attackers, and the primal cries emitted from his throat as Kane felt his career slip away from him. 

Kane would howl like an animal caught in a trap in the middle of a forest. The other Superstars would be in the back of the arena, watching from the other side of the curtain, and monitoring the carnage on the TV screens positioned in the dressing room. As Kane gritted his teeth and endured the thrashing, he’d look beseechingly down the aisle, waiting for rescue–from a former tag team partner, an athlete of lesser proportions, or any of his “fellow freaks,” who he had aided during a time of distress. But the aisle would remain empty, and Kane would have to suffer his fate the way he always had–alone. 

The bedroom would be dark when Kane sprang awake, the blankets on the floor, the sheets drenched in sweat, the pillow cases torn off. He’d leap from the bed, thrashing about, trying to grab the opponents from his nightmare and fight them off. Then, he would steady himself on a dresser or the edge of a chair, and understand what was happening.

All his life, he’d lived in fear, but always fought through it. Now, the pattern was recurring. While his fans awaited his return from injury, his foes–and even some men who publicly claimed to be his friends–were gleeful. At night, their dreams were the same as Kane’s, except when they arose each morning, they felt refreshed and overjoyed, believing that once the former WWECHampuion returned to action, one coordinated assault might eliminate him from the sport of kings forever. 

Bugt Kane knew that he could never be eliminated. There was too much fight in him for even an army of rivals to defeat. During his waking hours, he’d summon up the dread that invaded his nightmares and channel it in a way that strengthened him. He dutifully attended physical therapy, pushing himself even harder than he was advised, knowing that he would never rebound to his former status by simply going through the recommended motions. 

As his injury healed, he returned to the gym, testing the bicep muscle by pressing and curling astonishing amounts of weight. WHen that goal was met, he’d spread mats on the ground, and lock up with a number of sparring partners. Sometimes, they exchanged fundamental holds; other times, he encouraged them to gang up and jump him. 

Kane would fight back with the fervor of a man about to lose his life. He cracked one sparring partner’s knee, and broke another’s jaw. And still, he hired more to come after him, like hunters in the jungle. It was the only way he’d be prepared for the treachery that an athlete of his stature encounters after a long layoff in WWE.

When Kane fina;y returned to WWE, he was clearly a man transformed by his long exile from the ring. Immediately, both fans and fellow Superstars noted that he looked different. His body was stronger, and his mask had changed. Those brave enough to inquire about his new appearance were initially met with story silence. 

According to people in Kane’s camp, at least one of his advisors suggested that the gargantuan shed his camouflage completely, exposing countenance to the millions of followers who’ve always wondered about the true appearance of the man they’d come to romanticize. But Kane dismissed the idea immediately, refusing even to indulge the advisor in a conversation. 

Apparently, Kane needs his mask as a barrier from the rest of the world. To show his face would be to affirm that he was human–a declaration he is not ready to make. 

Close associates have explained that Kane realizes that he’s on his own more than ever before. Never one to mix easily with other Superstars, Kane has reverted further into himself. To this day, he is periodically haunted by the gruesome dreams that characterized his time away from the mat. And each nightmare has reaffirmed the suspicion that lay at its core. 

Privately, Kane has stated that he never intends to trust anyone or anything other than his own drive and ability. In times past, he cautiously opened himself up to the others: family members, tag team partners, women who claimed to see something special beyond his scarred facade. Rather than finding fulfillment in these relationships, Kane was punished for revealing what others interpreted as weakness. Later, when these confidants turned against him, his emotional vulnerability allowed them to wound him in ways that went far beyond the physical. 

Yet, anyone who has spent even a few fleeting moments with the Superstar understands that, his actions notwithstanding, he desperately covets the approval of the fans. When they’ve rejected him, their jeers formed deep abrasions in his spirit. And when they’ve accepted him, Kane has admitted to feeling an emotion that has evaded him for most of his life: Contentment. 

Even during his most grueling matches, Kane is known for looking out into the crowd and locking eyes with certain types of people: children from dysfunctional families who’ve never felt settled in one place; tall, powerful men branded “oafish” rather than mighty; overweight fans who have endured the teasing by their peers and yearned to achieve a measure of revenge.

Since his emergence in WWE in 1997, Kane ‘s followers have kept track of every development in his career: his World title reign, his acquisition of the Intercontinental and Hardcore Championships, his six WWE Tag Team crowns. Everytime he chokeslammed or piledrove an adversary, or put his life at risk in a ring surrounded by fire or a casket match, these enthusiasts were convinced that a small part of Kane was battling for them. 

During his last run in WWE, his fan approval rating soared to unprecedented levels. Grateful, Kane began referring to his supporters as “Kane-nites.” After a victory, he’d hearten them with a declaration of “Freaks rule!”

But during his sabbatical, Kane wondered whether the Kanenites would wait for him, or move on to performers like Rob Van Dam, John Cena, Rey Mysterio or other dynamic personalities who eclipsed him in his youth. No matter what Kane might say in public, there is no question that he wants Kanenites to remain behind him. Still, after a lifetime of misfortune and disillusionment, he understands that he can’t solely depend on them to sustain him.

Ultimately, Kane will have to–once again–make it on his own.

[selamat-linting]

remember that weird fetish-y WWE magazine article i talked about a fan getting to be Booker T's personal servant for a day? yeah this is it. transcript under the cut

King Booker's Peasant For A Day

By Andrew Vontz

Photography by Sean Murphy

Booker T's Powerful Skills and magical red sweats have taken him to the top of WWE. Now that he has ascended to his rightful throne, he requires the constant attention of a servant. As one of Booker T's loyal fans, I felt privileged and honored when the King granted me the exceedingly rare opportunity to visit his castle for a daylong stint as his personal aide. To demonstrate my deference to the King's greatness, I donned a burlap sack with a rope tied around the waist and me His Highness backstage, ready to do his bidding. Here are but a few of the tasks I had the honor of performing. All hail King Booker!

Acting As Loyal Footman

A crown weighs heavy on the head of a king, and he will rarely find the time to relax and enjoy a vigorous foot rub from a male servant in a burlap sack. The king wanted to rush into the polishing of the crown, but I felt that in spite of my best efforts, The King had still worked too hard this day. I insisted that he takes a seat and remove his kicks. I peeled off his socks and went to work off his dogs, pressing my thumbs into his arches until I felt all the tension drain from his body.

Serving As Royal Footstool

Before the knights of the squared circle step into the ring to do battle, they gather deep in the bowels of the arena to share libations and fuel their bodies with grilled chicken breasts and fresh vegetables. The floor provides sufficient support for their stout legs and weary feet, but a true king deserves better. As Booker's loyal squire, it was my duty and my pleasure to drop to all floors and offer the burlap on my back to his royal feet. As his heels dug into my flesh, I had to smile. I knew my suffering would give His Majesty the extra comfort he would need to vanquish his adversaries.

Polishing The King's Crown

Booker T had to summon the strength of a hundred lords to annihilate all corners and claim the crown that was rightfully his. But life on the road doesn't always leave time for the King to keep that crown in pristine condition. I again dropped to my aching, nearly bloodied knees, and rubbed the bejeweled golden masterpiece until it sparkled and the King nodded in approval.

Feeding His Greatness

Only common men hold forks and knives and cut up their own food. I nearly had a panic attack when I saw Booker T reaching for utensils as he tucked into a healthy snack. Not on my watch, sire! I rose from the floor and swiftly speared pieces of tomato and broccoli, then fed them into the waiting mouth of the King. I would have gladly chewed up His Highness's food and regurgitated it into his mouth to spare him the energy of mastication if he would have demanded it. And of course, as his loyal servant, I kept all challengers to the throne clear of his food so it could not be surreptitiously poisoned.

Giving A Kingly Manicure

I next turned my attention to the King's massive mitts. Like surgeons and pianists, the Superstars of WWE ply their craft with their hands, so it is important that their nails and cuticles be kept in absolutely tip-top shape. I whipped out my cuticle trimmers and nail file, and again, dropped to my knees (the only proper place for a serf such as myself). I pushed back the King's cuticles, imagining myself handling a baby rabbit as I worked with utmost tenderness and delicacy, then buffed his nail tips. The task complete, I suggested that His Greatness consider an application of a vitamin-rich clear gloss, but he would have none of it. I winced and rubbed the side of my face against the floor as a sign of penance.

Tending To His Highness's Hair

On of the most striking aspects of the King's appearance (aside from his mountains of muscle, winning smile, flowing robe, and distinctive crown) are his trademark dreadlocks. Narrow, neat, and perfectly proportioned, the King's hair nonetheless requires a daily application of the finest sculpting and conditioning products. Sharmell often helps with the task, but I was not about to let the Queen dirty her hands with such a lowly deed. I attempted to follow Sharmell's instructions, using an exotic bee's wax and petroleum jelly compound. When I handled the ends of the King's locks too roughly, the Queen scolded me. Like a good vassal, I cowered and vowed to flog myself with the cat-o'-nine-tails. Summarily humbled, I returned to the task and completed it to the best of my limited lock-twisting ability. Forgive me, oh King!

Shining Booker's Boots

Like the King's fiefdom itself, his boots are a sight to behold. I gave a once-over to the King's custom-made footwear, which is constructed of the finest leather hand-selected from the hides of only the strongest bovines Booker T's dominion has to offer. I buffed His Worship's clogs to a lustrous rich shine. My efforts fell short, and the King suggested I balanced the heel of his boots on my forehead one at a time so that I might apply greater pressure. The King had decreed it, and so it was done.

Cooling Down The King

The bright lights on the hallway overwhelmed the King as I finished his nail treatment, and he asked me to provide him with personal air conditioning. If I'd known the King might become overheated, I certainly would have brought along a generator and a window-size air conditioner to provide him with a steady fresh arctic breeze directed at the interior of his regal robe. I scrambled until I found the next best thing: a pair of manila file folders that I craftily folded into hand fans. The King signaled his delight with a smile, and in short order, I lowered his body temperature to an acceptable level. So ended the greatest day of my life.

Laying It All On The Line

By now it was nearly time for the King to return to his quarters and meditate on the brutality he would unleash on his opponents in the ring later that evening. His Greatness strolled outside to discover that heavy thunderstorms had turned the ground into a quagmire of light brown mud that stank of diesel fuel. I had completed all of my official tasks for the day, but a true retainer will give anything in service to his master. So when I saw the King contemplating the best path through the mud, I thought nothing of diving face-first into the muck to create a human bridge. I turned my head to the side and laid it down on the ground to offer the King an extra bit of traction, and extended my arms out to the side to create the most stable bridge possible. I felt nothing but the greatest joy as the King stepped onto my spine and gingerly hopped across the puddle. And with that, he strode off into the distance.

[crush-hour]

A tripp to Trash & Vaudeville

[indeedgoodman]

[rawsmackdownnxtdivas]

Congratulations to Sonya Deville and Toni Cassano on their marriage!!! 💍

[punkitypunker]

[baddawg94]

[wrestlinghistorywithkay]

Debra , Chyna , and Sable on the cover of WWF RAW Magazine, March 1999

[litafan4ever]

When I look through my WWE Magazine collection I feel disappointed AJ Lee was never on the cover. We all know damn well she deserved to have been and should have been. I always imagined what an AJ Lee WWE Magazine cover could have been like so I decided to bring my imagination to life with this new graphic so please enjoy and please don’t steal and repost. 🖤🕷️🩷 Btw, the "AJ Lee superfan" talked about on the cover is Cora Jade in my mind. Just a fun little Easter egg. 🥰🖤🫶🏻

[blowflyfag]

WWE SMACKDOWN MAGAZINE: SEPTEMBER 2005

MNM

“WE’RE GOING TO BE BIGGER THAN ELVIS”

By Keith Elliot Greenberg

You might say that MNM is rewriting history one snapshots at a time. Each time one of the paparazzi snaps their picture, it helps their star shine just a little bit brighter. In fact, they enjoy having their picture taken so much that they named their fishing move the Snapshot. And similarly, every time they nail the move, it brings them one step closer to becoming one of the greatest tag teams of all time.

With each victory, the trio becomes more and more resentful of those who apparently dismissed MNM as a fad that would soon fade. In the August issue of Smackdown! Magazine, Nitro said, “We're going to be bigger than Elvis, bigger than the Beatles.”

When you make statements as pompous as that, it’s understood that many will root against you. But MNM expected contempt from opponents, as well as the fans they’d derided as “too weird, too fat, too stupid, too scared, or too damn normal.” Now the trio believes their harshest detractors are the same journalists and paparazzi profiting from covering the electrifying new tag team.

“I have plenty of admirers in high places who’ve told me what these weasel journalists utter behind our backs,” Melina says. “I heard that some even started a pool over whether we’d be on a losing streak by the time the August issue of SmackDown! On sale–and guess who’s on the cover?” 

To a degree, Melina’s self-righteousness is reasonable. After all, many observers initially tagged MNM as the team more famous for its look than anything else. Even before their first match on SmackDown!, MNM was trailed by photographers more intrigued by the threesomes' unique appearance than its achievements.

When Nitro & Mercury captured the WWE Tag Team Championship in their very first match, the popular consensus was that the gold would slip through their fingers right away. They were too arrogant, too shallow and too inexperienced to remain at the top of the tag team ranks. Somehow, MNM proved all their critics wrong. And, now, when the paparazzi appear, there’s a legitimate reason why the pictures are in such great demand. 

In April, the team came out of nowhere and captured the titles from Eddie Guerrero & Rey Mysterio–two proud Latino stars not accustomed to getting bested by untested talent. Although tensions had been simmering between Guerrero & Mysterio already, the loss sent their relationship into a tailspin. The two were soon bitter enemies, and when they reconciled for one night to challenge for MNM’s championship, the result was disastrous.

In the aftermath, Mysterio was plagued by troubling doubts, while Guerrero appeared to be possessed by demons. Meanwhile, MNM’s light only burned brighter. 

“That’s what we do,” Melina says, “We take the icons you people have chosen to worship, and we reduce them to nothing. We’re competitors, baby. And when you compete, some people lose and some people win.” “We happen to choose the latter.”

That was made abundantly clear when MNM tangled with Heidenreich and his new “friend,” Road Warrior Animal. The cocky young tag team held their ground against Animal–at one time one-half of perhaps the greatest tag team ever-refusing to be intimidated by his legendary status.

“The Road Warriors, The Midnight Express, The British Bulldogs, The Dudley Boyz, all those tag teams everyone talks about as being so great,” Melina says. “Yeah, they were probably all right in their day, but that’s the past. This is now. MNM is the tag team of the present, and of the future. Deal with it.” For Melina, that aggressive spirit extends outside the realm of tag team combat. Repelled by the notion that her fellow WWE Divas are paragons of beauty, Melina has used both violent language and sadistic behavior to diminish their status.

In one memorable confrontation with Michelle McCool, Melina actually asked her boys to remain backstage. Melina then tore into the athletic blonde with an aptitude that matched the newcomer’s managerial abilities. In the end, Melina survived a dropkick and a spear. But as her opponents straddled the ropes, punching downward, Melina shook off the bows, snatched Michelle, and defeated her with a powerbomb. 

Even among MNM’s enemies, there were immediate comparison to other females who established themselves in WWE as managers, but ultimately transcended the role.

Today, for instance, few recall that Trish Stratus actually entered WWE as the manager of T&A–the hulking duo of Albert (later A-Train) and Test. Like Melina, Trish drew fans with her good looks, but she had greater ambitions. After she struck out on her own, she dominated the Women’s Division.

Parallels have also been made to Sunny, the stunning cover girl who shepherded several teams to tag team gold in the mid-1990s. In the process, she gained a reputation as a woman who pretty much attained anything she desired. 

Others theorize that Melina’s career may most closely resemble that of Sensational Sherri. At different stages, Sherri managed Shawn Michaels, Randy Savage and Ric Flair, and also held the Women’s Championship.

Yet, those who focus on Melina fall into the trap MNM hopes to set–diverting opponents away from the strengths and weaknesses of Nitro & Mercury.

Mercury all but admitted this recently when he told a reporter, “While our opponents are busy thinking about Melina, talking about Melina, and, yes, fantasizing about Melina, Johnny and I can pretty much step into that ring and do whatever we want to them.”

Because of their early success, Nitro &N Mercury’s potential is sometimes compared with the records of other WWE newcomers who swiftly rocket to the top of their profession. But such comparisons mean little to them.

“We hear people comparing us to guys from back in the day like Kerry Von Erich, because he burst on the scene and won the Intercontinental title right away,” Mercury says. “But those people just don’t get it. Bon Erich already established himself years before when he beat Ric Flair for the NWA title. Unlike the ‘Texas Tornado,’ we walked into WWE cold. We came out of nowhere and shocked all the so-called experts.”

“I mean, sure there were Superstars like Kurt Angle and Brock Lesnar who came here and won titles right off the bat, but even those guys didn’t do what we did,” Nitro says. “Angle was an Olympic gold medalist; Lesnar was an NCAA Champion. WWE fans had no idea who we were that first night, when we debuted in Madison Square Garden. But we changed all that by winning the WWE Tag team titles that same night. Now, everyone knows who we are.” Perhaps it’s more appropriate to measure MNM next to Carlito, who won the U.S. Championship in his first SmackDown! match, or Christian, who earned the Light Heavyweight title in his WWE debut. Both came out of nowhere and very quickly grabbed the spotlight. And in both their cases, they have remained among WWE’s elite ever since.

“To all those people who say we got lucky, I have news for you,” Nitro says. “We were lucky the day we were born. Not everyone is blessed with the attributes we were given. And that’s too bad. But nobody says that life is fair. It’s not really our fault if we’re perfect in an imperfect world.”

It’s an attitude MNM carries on the red carpet and , as the results have shown, into the ring as well.

[mxmoth]

RHEA RIPLEY for SUNDAY TIMES MAGAZINE 📷: Ian Munro

[are-we-really-doing-this]

Pro Wrestling Illustrated, May 2006

The Wrestling Forecaster: C.M. Punk

(@selamat-linting here you go broski)

WHAT’S AHEAD FOR THE REMAINDER OF 2006?

Punk started 2006 with one strike against him. In the summer of 2005, Punk signed a WWE contract and was brought up for a dark match, where he was managed by Alexis (Mickie James) Laree. The promoters had high expectations for Punk, especially since he was coming into WWE after a spectacular run in Ring of Honor. For whatever reason, the WWE front office wasn’t impressed with Punk’s match. Punk was sent down to OVW, cooling him off after the hottest period in his career. That means Punk still has an awful lot to prove in 2006. He has conquered the indy world and won over the legions of Internet fans and tape-traders who constitute the core ROH audience. But that just means he’s a big fish in a small pond. Succeeding in WWE is an entirely different prospect. Punk is leaner and less chiseled than most WWE competitors, and the fans may not know what to make of him at first. That’s why Punk needs to make an immediate impact if he hopes to make it there. After continuing to earn rave reviews in OVW, Punk will be called up to WWE right after WrestleMania. He will have a diva in his corner (either Maria or Candice Michelle) and will sneak-attack Randy Orton. “Everything you have was handed to you on a silver platter,” Punk will scream at the fallen Orton. “I worked my way up from nothing. I fought for every little scrap I have, and that makes me better than you.” Punk will be Orton’s biggest test since The Undertaker. While the feud will be one of the best feuds of the year, Orton will emerge victorious. 

WHERE WILL HE BE IN 2011?

As much as we would love to see Punk win the World title and usher in a new era, we just don’t see it happening. We don’t think Punk is a team player or a big corporate guy. He won’t play politics or suffer in silence when a ridiculous storyline is forced upon him. He’ll be gone from WWE by 2008 and will spend the next few years as ROH’s elder statesman. 

WHERE WILL HE BE IN 2016?

Thoroughly disillusioned with the wrestling scene, Punk will announce a semi-retirement in 2013. He will still wrestle on occasional cards around Philadelphia, but will spend most of his time fronting a new spoken word/hardcore straight-edge band. He’ll develop a hearty audience and will tour with Henry Rollins on speaking engagements and poetry slams.

[womenwwe]

Naomi featured on Fault Magazine website:

Click on the link below for the full article:

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