“If I’m an act, then what are you?” – Stephen Colbert to Bill O’Reilly

By The Phantom of the Ring with Bill “Potshot” Kunkel

There’s an old saying that all good things have to come to an end. Well, so do the Phannies.

I began the Phannies way back in 1989 as a satire on the painstaking method of picking the various Who’s Best awards and sometime in the intervening years, Bill “Potshot” Kunkel started running it through his Mac. Within a half dozen years, with wrestling having jumped the shark, it made far better sense to simply select the worst of the bunch in any number of given categories. We were sick and tired then, and now we’ve reached the stage where we’re sick and tired of being sick and tired.

In case you’ve recently become a fan, or simply haven’t noticed, wrestling has changed in the past few years and not for the better. In years past we could choose from a bevy of promotions and a veritable parade of goofy gimmicks, putrid promo guys and lousy wrestlers. Now, we are limited mainly to the WWE and TNA and the Japanese promotions that are barely hanging on. It’s reaching the point where we are just giving our awards to WWE wrestlers and that has become, for us, ridiculous. Wrestling is indeed dying a slow death. If you don’t believe us, just take a gander at a copy of Dave Meltzer’s Wrestling Observer. We figure that about half the space is now devoted to covering news from the world of mixed martial arts. MMA is the wave of the future, and would have already supplanted wrestling in this country if only it were marketed more efficiently. In any case, the wolves are at Vince McMahon’s door, and if they’re smart, they will huff and puff and blow his house of cards right down.

The sad truth is that wrestling is a largely repulsive business that uses up human beings at a rate so appalling that it would be an issue in this ersatz presidential campaign if it affected almost any other component of the sports and entertainment spectrum. What’s even scarier is that it turns out “success stories” like Vincent K McMahon, Terry Bollea and Paul Levesque instead of Jack Briscos, Bruno Sammartinos and The Funks. “Hogan” has lived much of his adult life in a world that honored omerta more seriously than the Cosa Nostra. A world where “what happens in pro wrestling stays in pro wrestling.” Until the bodies piled so high you could hardly see Chris Benoit slaughtering his own family and then hanging himself.

The bond between magicians and pro wrestlers (and carnie in general) is like a gypsy bloodline. Stage magicians started calling themselves ”illusionists” in the ’60s. Magicians are fakes. Penn & Teller and Fox’s masked magician routinely expose tricks and laugh as that Indian teardrop winds down the face of old school magicians. Sleight- of-hand and the other basic components of stagecraft that were hoarded for centuries and passed as loving gifts of respect from one generation to the next became fodder for Fox TV and, at the high end, Las Vegas and Showtime.

But then, with stage magic, we always knew it was a trick. Wrestling had the advantage of fans so dumb or indifferent to the scripted nature of the entertainment that they were willing to suspend disbelief to an incredible degree. The audience knows that what goes on in the ring is “fake” and they marvel less and less in the “skill” required to dupe them in spite of that knowledge. Thus, the admission that wrestling was a bastion of fakery attains the MSM level of “dog-bit-man—and-not-all-that-hard” in terms of negative impact. It actually made the faux-sport more palatable (Mary Tyler Moore showing up at WrestleMania? Are you freaking kidding us?!) for the celebrity elite.

The only people who seem to have a problem with this is the wrestlers themselves, who have to act as if this is all still somehow on the level, and a majority of the fans who one day come to their senses and realize they wasted three or four years (usually in childhood) watching this crap. It used to be a rule of thumb in wrestling that the average interest span of a casual fan is about four years. Wrestling always depended on that turnover. It still seems to be the case. In an informal poll of our nieces, nephews and godchildren (error rate 100%), we’ve discovered that it still holds true. All were rabid fans in childhood, but rapidly lost interest after about three to five years and if they follow any combat sport, it is MMA and not boxing.

Along this line, we’ve also come to the realization that wrestling is no longer aimed at us; we’re too old. Instead, it has gradually come down to where it’s being targeted at the 9-13 year olds and we’re beginning to feel out of place covering it. Wrestling, like everything else in our culture, is being dumbed down for its audience. We watch an angle taking place and we just know how it is going to unfold (even if the “writers” aren’t always sure). Is that because we’re that smart? Not at all: it’s because we’ve seen it all before and it was done better back then. All we’re getting today is microwaved leftovers that leave a bad taste in our mouths that no amount of cultural mouthwash can erase.

It’s for all these reasons, and a few more we can’t think of at this time, that we end our series of annual awards. We always said the day we’d stop giving out awards is the day wrestling ceased being fun for us. That day has come. Enjoy.

WORST PROMOTION – ECW. Be careful what you wish for, you may just get it. When ECW folded its doors amid mounting financial losses and dwindling fan support, we all mourned the loss of another promotion. But McMahon bought out the ECW library and put out a DVD on the rise and fall of the promotion. Its success was phenomenal; the fans wanted more.  Unfortunately, they got it. McMahon decided to revive the promotion with Paul E. again at the helm. They even brought back some of the ECW Originals to give it a little cache among the hardcore. For reasons Ray Charles could have seen, it never got off the ground. Paulie and the McMahons didn’t see eye to eye – meaning that Heyman’s vision conflicted with the McMahon’s own myopia, and – poof – Paul E. was out the door.

Unfortunately for the McMahons, Heyman was the only one who seemingly knew that ECW, out of all the promotions, was heavily dependent on the quirkiness of both its personalities and its angles. This compensated for the lack of wrestling ability in its workers. Now, with the McMahons in charge the only question became how best to run the promotion into the ground. Answer? Make ECW a pale copy of the WWE. So they brought in those from WWE who had either failed to get over or had worn out their welcome. Next, ECW stars such as Balls Mahoney, Tommy Dreamer and Sandman were jobbed out to the jabronis. No angles were built around them. Then McMahon and company put the likes of Big Show and Bobby Lashley in as champ. Lashley is perfect WWE material: big bulky build, no speed and no personality – in other words, the antithesis of everything that is ECW. Heyman once put a stiff named 911 over, but knew how to write the angles so as to get maximum effect.

McMahon even booted Francine out the door — the one person left that could generate any sort of heat, especially in a managerial role. She was replaced by the usual Stepford Divas. The ratings naturally went into free fall and ECW house shows were phased out. They dared not promote in a former ECW hotbed because they feared the fan response, and not without reason. Imagine a television taping where the crowd noise was replaced by canned cheering and boos. ECW should just fade away, but because the Sci-Fi Channel (the perfect venue, since the new ECW is something straight out of the Twilight Zone) still televises the mess, McMahon will continue foisting it upon an ever dwindling audience. And then he can blame the folks at Sci-Fi when it bottoms out.

Dishonorable Mention – The NWA, for rescinding their agreement with TNA to push the NWA singles and tag titles. Okay, so TNA stopped doing it about six months before the geniuses at the NWA found out. But face facts, a simple sit-down would have sufficed. Remember, the NWA needs TNA, not the other way around. Without TNA and their television market, the NWA belt returns to almost total obscurity and the NWA poobahs must hope that New Japan or ROH or anyone else will take them up on their worthless belts. Otherwise, it’s “coming to a high school gym near you, the NWA championship.” And remember, boys, whoever takes you up on your offer is not going to play by your rules.

WORST PERSONALITY – The Not-So-Great Khali. Vince must’ve figured that he was either the second coming of André the Giant and the Big Show, or that no one would notice the difference. Khali makes Kane look like Rey Mysterio in comparison. One of his signature moves is called the tree slam, a maneuver a tree could probably execute with more athleticism. Even worse is when this guy gets lifted and slammed by much smaller wrestlers such as Cena.

Dishonorable Mention – The Boogeyman. Disgusting enough as a heel, McMahon naturally had to try and turn him face. “Oh, and keep the worms!” This guy had more hope of getting over as a toothless 40-something on Tough Enough.

WORST TAG TEAM – Deuce and Domino. Imagine bringing a 50s style gimmick straight out of Happy Days for a crowd that sees the 50s as ancient history? What next, the Zoot Suits? This thing fell flat on its face the first time out and never recovered. Given that Deuce is Jimmy Snuka’s son, they could at least push that. Expect their next trip to be a prolonged stay in jabroniville as singles.

Dishonorable Mention – Jesse and Festus. Watch the watch and repeat after us – Hillbillies are out of style… hillbillies are out of style… hillbillies are out of style. Keep repeating until you can find a better way to get Terry Gordy’s son over.

WORST NEWS FOR UFC / BEST NEWS FOR VINCE – Brock Lesnar, late of WWE rings, has made his UFC debut. You remember the Brock, he suddenly quit the WWE after a massive, if premature, push and pushed himself right out the door (sweeping up Sable in the process). After a protracted legal battle, and a lukewarm stay in Japanese rings, he has now turned his gimlet eye toward the world of mixed marshal arts. Vince knows something UFC doesn’t, because he’s agreed to lend footage of Brock in the WWE days to the UFC for advertising. The only question now is just how long will Brock go in UFC before he up and quits.

WORST RIC FLAIR SCENARIO – In case you haven’t yet noticed, Ric Flair is now 58 years old and still in the ring. And looking every year of it (while some recent plastic work seems to have temporarily improved his wizened kisser, those sagging abs are beyond help from anything less than a wonder bro (or is it a manzier?). Taking into consideration his current financial status, love of the spotlight, and the fact we believe he‘s beginning to believe his own hype, we fully expect Ric to be wrestling and collecting Social Security simultaneously. At the rate he’s going, he’ll no longer be able to use the figure-four leglock as his finisher. Instead, he’ll skull the opponent with his walker.

WORST RETURN – Chris Jericho. Don’t get us wrong, we’re glad to see him. He’s one of the few really good workers in the WWE. But, we knew he’d come back some day. After all, we really didn’t expect him to make a living with that lousy hair band of his, did we? Do we really need covers of bad heavy metal? After the build, however, his return (with haircut; HHH is definitely winnowing down the other blond longhairs) has lost a lot of air. If Jeff Hardy hadn’t flunked another piss test, he wouldn’t even have the IC strap. At any rate, he’s in good stead, given the number of lousy singers in WWE.

WORST DEBUT – Our old friend, Blockhead Lesnar, who decided that, having conquered the world of staged athletics, he’d try his hand at the real thing in the UWF. He makes his debut against Frank Mir (a former UFC heavyweight champ who never recovered fully from a devastating motorcycle accident) who he looks to outweigh by about 75 lbs. and takes only one minute and thirty seconds to tap out to Mir’s knee bar. Blockhead, you should have stayed in the WWE. You were king of the molehill there.

WORST ENDORSEMENT – Hulk Hogan, who endorsed John McCain after previously endorsing someone in the Democratic race. Playing both sides against the middle, Hulk? Or did Hollywood Hogan endorse one and Hulk Hogan the other? And we still haven’t heard from Terry B.

WORST GIMMICK – Santino Marella and his faux Italian persona. Pushed as a babyface, the fan’s reaction reminded us of that for the Honkytonk Man (Remember him?). It got so bad they even dropped Italy and billed him as from Paterson, New Jersey. Hey, wasn’t that the hometown of Lou Costello? And Frank Costello?

Dishonorable Mention – TNA’s VKM (would you believe us if we told you this stands for Voodoo Kin Mafia but is actually an “in” joke on Vincent K’s initials. Pretty freakin’ hysterical, right?) aka the New Age Outlaws too many years later. Ass still can’t wrestle and The Roadie still won’t shut up.

WORST FINISHING HOLD – John Cena and his “FU.” It’s simply a standing fireman’s carry. We’ve heard it described as a variation of the Death Valley Driver, but we don’t see it.

WORST STRUT – Vince McMahon and his “No Chance” strut to the ring. It looks like he’s doing an imitation of the Bushwhackers’ nimrod walk, only with a load in the back of his pants.

WORST IMPRESSION OF CHICO MARX – Santino Marella. Sad, really, because with the right character, he would have gone over a lot bigger. He actually showed some comedic promise before they wrapped him in this hopeless Maria gimmick. He’s like a jealous Mario Brother.

WORST TATTOO – C.M. Punk. Ever notice that he appears to have the Pepsi logo emblazoned on his left shoulder? What’s that all about? Is it a demented yin and yang symbol? Or is he pronouncing his support of the cola wars?

WORST VICTIM OF A POTATO – Miss Jacqueline, who needed major dental work after Gail Kim dropped a trash can over her head in a pay-per-view match and then took a broom stick and jiggled it hard inside the can, causing Miss Jackie to break two teeth in the process. Kim is one of the clumsiest wrestlers going. Too bad Ahmed Johnson is no longer in the ring. They’d have made a great mixed tag team.

WORST MOVIE – The Condemned, an overwrought, badly written piece of crap that took off at the box office like a lead balloon. Get this plot: Steve Austin plays a convict on death row in a corrupt Central American prison (Is there any other kind?) who is, shall we say, “purchased” by a television producer with mega bucks. His destination is a desolate island (Are there any other kinds?) where he is to take part in an illegal reality game show. Our Anti-hero finds himself trapped in a fight to the death against nine other condemned killers brought in from all corners of the world. There’s no possible escape – except for anyone in the audience who leaves the theater — while millions of viewers watch the hijinks online. Austin must use all his strength and wits (all right, just strength) to remain the last man standing, and with it his only chance at freedom. At least Austin’s a better actor than Cena, which isn’t really saying that much. Steve should go back to television, in anything that isn’t connected with McMahon so his chances to succeed are increased exponentially.

WORST MOVIE CRITIC – The Warrior, who in his blog, reviewed Brokeback Mountain. He begins by stating that he saw the movie no fewer than 45 times (?) and that he owns the Limited Edition DVD, signed by Willie Nelson “a short time after he wrote that queer cowboy song as a tribute to the courage of the producers and actors who broke such incredible creative ground when they made their agenda-less movie. Serious.” (Sad, isn’t it?) “Until I saw Bendover Brokeback, Braveheart was my favorite movie. (No wonder Mel Gibson drinks.) But the love scenes of Brokeback sucked me right in (literally, no doubt) and I had no choice but to give myself over to the passion of its wide open range, if you get my drift. (Drift? It’s a freakin’ blizzard. And we don’t want to know anything further in this line.)  Such courage this young man and his colleagues have. Reminds me of the courage of classic movie stars, where during the War they enlisted and flew bomber planes and fought on frontlines, then came back and picked up their lives and careers right where they left off, without anti-American sentiment, whining and complaining, or self-destructive self indulgence. (Huh? What???) I’m equally inspired.” (We’re so happy he’s happy.)

WORST EXCUSE FOR THE WORST MOVIE – Vince McMahon telling a WWE stockholder meeting that Lions Gate, the distributor of that wonderful action saga, The Condemned, is at fault for its dismal showing because they refused to advertise it enough in the media. We saw this thing plastered all over other cable stations than those that carry the WWE menagerie. Could it be, Vince that you chose a retired wrestler not well remembered by your new class of kiddie fans for an ‘R’ rated flick that your fans really can’t go to see because they’re under age? And as for the adults, hasn’t this plot already been done to death?

WORST TELEVISION SHOW – American Gladiators, hosted by Hulk Hogan, perhaps the least hospitable host in the history of television. Jay Leno said it best, “American Gladiators is for people who like professional wrestling, but have trouble following the plot.”

Dishonorable Mention – Raw’s 15th Anniversary Show. It seems like only yesterday that Raw began. And you remember what a lousy day yesterday was. And let’s not forget Hogan Knows Best, where even the familial dysfunction is fake!

WORST PAY-PER-VIEW – Armageddon: Loaded with screw-job endings, and all for only $39.95. You’d think that for that money, the ending would be clean.

WORST IMITATION OF LARRY THE CABLE GUY - Trevor Murdoch.

WORST MARKS -  Those in the press who bought McMahon’s line of horse manure that Floyd Mayweather was getting $20 mil for his appearance at WrestleMania. They’re skeptical of everything wrestling connected, but always stop and buy whatever slop McMahon is selling.

WORST FAMILY MAN - Hulk Hogan, who was having an affair with one of his daughter, Brooke’s, friends while still married to Linda.

WORST THEME SONG – John Cena. What’s with the mariachi open? I always expect Essa Rios to make his WWE comeback when I hear that.

THE “IT’S MORE OBVIOUS EVERY YEAR THAT THIS GIMMICK ISN’T WORKING” AWARD – Kane. Ever since they took his mask off it’s been one disaster after another. Come on guys, let him get “burned”, grow back his hair and put the hood back on.

WORST CELEBRITY APPEARANCE – TNA goes out and signs suspended football star Adam “Pacman” Jones. That did all of nothing for the struggling promotion. Usually, when a football star is signed, he’s either a big guy or a big name. Jones is known mainly for his bad boy behavior that led to his suspension from the NFL. A fiasco that only could happen in wrestling then follows. Jones is going to wrestle. Oh no, he’s not, say the Titans. Jones appears anyway and is “jumped” backstage by the bad guys. He’s taken to a “hospital” in an ambulance. No large follow up angle ensures. Jones fades out. End of story and another reason why TNA is even worse than the WWE, if that’s possible.

WORST IMITATION OF WWE – A story out of Japan’s Sumo world states that one Stablemaster Tokitsukaze and three of his sumos are to be arrested after the Nagoya police determined their beatings on sumo Takashi Saito led to his death. The original conclusion was that Saito died of natural causes.  However, an autopsy determined the death was due to traumatic shock from multiple external wounds. Saito was reportedly beaten up twice in the days before his death because his peers discovered he was going to quit the sport.

WORST AWARD – Those geniuses in Hollywood who gave McMahon a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Walk of Shame is more like it. We were always under the assumption that in order to get this honor, one had to have done something to enhance Hollywood history. Stupid us. What has Vince McMahon ever done to leave a mark on Hollywood history (other than a mark a dog might make on that star)? Let’s see . . . he’s made a few forgettable movies; he’s promoted forgettable wrestling shows in Los Angeles . . . Okay, we give up. If it’s simply a question of money, let us not forget that, during the filming of Ed Wood, Tim Burton and Touchstone offered the necessary donation for such a star to be placed in honor of Ed Wood, Jr., but were turned down by the Powers That Be. Now, we admit that Ed Wood was certainly no John Ford or Frank Capra when it came to directing, and certainly no Orson Welles or Dalton Trumbo when it came to screenwriting. But Ed did make a few movies so bad they were unforgettable and are looked upon today as classics of a sort. Compare that to McMahon’s movies, which we have trouble remembering ten minutes after they end. Hollywood is honoring someone who, long after the moguls in Hollywood got the word, was still promoting stereotypes as late as 2007. Can we forget Shelton Benjamin’s “mother,” or tagging Mark Henry as “the Silverback”? (For those who never took zoology, Silverback is a type of gorilla. Charming, huh?”) Well, excuse us, but we don’t get it.

WORST EXPLOITATION OF A TRAGEDY – This one’s a no-brainer, given that the death of Chris Benoit and family was wrestling’s number one story. We’ll probably never know the exact reasons for Chris’s behavior, but suffice it to say that the media coverage of this item was every bit as disgusting as the murder itself. The worst offenders were Bill O’Reilly and Nancy Grace (We’re exempting the usually hysterical Geraldo Rivera on the grounds that he’s really not a journalist.), both of whom seemed dogged in their pre-formed notion that it was simply a case of ‘roid rage’. Nancy Grace even had on Dave Meltzer, whom she ignored every time he opened his mouth, because Meltzer made sense, and that went against her open and shut case. Larry King had on his show a group of wrestlers who turned the show into The View, carefully skirting around the real issues, lest admission affect their future employment status. McMahon, for his part, sent out such informed stalwarts as Findlay and Mr. Kennedy to play the game of Cover Your Ass, which later gained a sense of ironic humor when Mr. Kennedy was suspended for failing McMahon’s “Wellness Test,” put into the WWE world precisely to avoid and Congressional investigation. In the end, Benoit was just another sports celebrity statistic; the coverage given because, in the words of Dan LeBetard on ESPN’s Pardon the Interruption, “This is the only time you’ll see professional wrestling covered on this show.”

Dishonorable Mention – The Warrior, who appeared on Hannity and Colmes (Isn’t it thrilling when great minds get together?) and gave his take on the Benoit situation. We couldn’t refute his argument because we didn’t understand it, and neither, do we suspect, did he. It consisted of his usual gibberish about the right to take steroids – we think. He did say that taking steroids is a form of personal freedom. And he did refute the silly notion that Benoit’s actions were a form of roid rage. But that’s where it stops. To quote directly: “Roid rage for me is a pie-in-the sky theory that’s though up by people that have no business discerning the frame of mind of elite physical athletes.”  Later, when asked by Colmes about drug testing, he had this to say: “The drug test is a ruse. It’s an artifice designed specifically for the sensationalized, high-profile tragedies of when people come forward and they make reasonable allegations that the talent is using drugs.” Wow. Those who did die, according to Warrior, were “rotten on the inside.” Arnold Schwarzenegger, Frank Zane, Dave Draper and other bodybuilders that followed a holistic approach to steroids are healthy. Got that? Good, now explain it to us.

SPECIAL PHANNIE – To all of us who thought that when Nancy married Chris she was better off because she got away from Kevin Sullivan.

JUST PLAIN WORST – The Warrior. Besides his words of wisdom on the Benoit tragedy, our favorite Neanderthal has been keeping a web blog and he recently shared his thoughts on the death of actor Heath Ledger. Now realize that in every Warrior statement there is a grain of truth, but to get at it one must go through miles of obfuscation and weirdness. Were he at his literary peak in the 50s we can easily see him writing screenplays for Ed Wood or Coleman Francis movies. So, let’s quote his thoughts on the death of Heath Ledger: “Apparently, Leather Hedger had sleeping troubles and anxiety and dealt with terrible mood swings. So do soldiers but they don’t self-destructively fuck up their lives (sic). In fact, they don’t sleep, handle anxiety and mood swings while dealing with whether or not they might at any moment lose their life. (Can we go over that again?) And they do this all the while they are dangerously protecting the freedom of others to fuck up their own. (What wordsmanship.) By the way, how many 28 (or older or younger) year old soldiers met their death yesterday? It’s not easy to find out. None of them made the headlines of any news.” He then goes on to say that by dying, “Leather Hedger did what it took to kill himself. His kid is without a father, yes, but the negative influence is now removed and his own child has the chance for a full recovery.” What compassion, what insight we now have into Warrior’s mind, or what passes for such. He then chastises Hogan because The Hulk “won’t go quite that far,” rather insisting “on sticking around to keep further ruining, and profiting off of, the parentally mismanaged lives of his own children. It is sad and tragic….that we don’t demand attention be paid to greater things.” Yes, we agree. It is sad and tragic; more than he realizes.  Dr. Laura, where are you when we really need you?

PHANNNIE OF THE YEAR – This year, it is fitting that the award goes to one Hulk Hogan, because he did the most to earn it. First, there’s that lousy “reality” show he does for VH-1. Any attempt to connect Hogan and the real world is predestined to fail, for “Hulk (TM Marvel Comics)” or “Hollywood” (TM the City of Los Angeles) “Hogan”, his world never really changed a whole lot. He’s Michael Jackson on steroids, yet the media looks at him through the wrong end of the microscope. They’ve swallowed his crap as if it were a good Quarter Pounder for so long he has become the ultimate control freak over his single asset: his name and persona. Now Nick ”Hogan” gets to stand trial by Nancy Grace, Court TV and TMZ; something, perhaps, about the sins of the father comes to mind.

But even for Hulk, reality must intrude sometime. Seems his show is over because of his pending divorce from wife Linda. According to the Tampa Tribune, Linda accused the Huckster of what she called ‘legal shenanigans,’ stating that he hid $10 million that came from a real estate sale last year. Linda then said that Hulk and a Tampa attorney drafted a post-nuptial agreement that they tried to get her to sign during a meeting ostensibly concerned with real estate planning. Linda told the paper that while she did remove a large sum of money from their accounts (under an LLC corporation controlled by Hogan and Eric Bischoff), she did so because she suspected the former WWE champ was up to something. However, he also said that she never spent the money which totaled over $1 million.

So now the Huckster wants VH-1 to build the show around his no-talent daughter, Brooke. (Watching Hulk obsess over his daughter sends chills down our spines. We almost expect to see Chris Hansen of NBC’s Dateline: To Catch a Predator walk on the set.) Son Nick is in no shape to protest after crashing his new car into a tree, killing his friend, who was riding in the front seat. Booze is suspected and Hogan allegedly is the supplier of said booze. So now Hogan, with his Bart Simpson tan, will pay whatever he has to pay to keep out of his son’s tragedy. As for his “beloved” daughter, we find it interesting that she has requested to live with neither of her parents.  We predict he’ll dance his way through this just like he danced through the acid raindrops during wrestling’s sex and steroid scandal.

BONUS FEATURE: WHEN LIFE IMITATES ART – It says much about the current state of our culture that a business built around the imitation of real life events and personas has itself come to the point where it is copied by various celebrities and members of the media who themselves wish a certain status of celebrity. One remark we made during our last awards has resonated with the readers: We said that Al Sharpton was really at home in a wrestling ring. So, in this spirit, following is a list of those we find are far more comfortable in a wrestling ring:

Announcers – To eventually replace those in the WWE, we nominate Sean Hannity and Keith Olbermann. We would grant Bill O’Reilly an interview segment with various wrestlers he could call “The No Spin Zone.” And is Mike Adamle REALLY working for McMahon??

Managers – Who could better fit this bill than nonstop talkers Allan Colmes, Ann Coulter and Rush Limbaugh?

Valets/Divas – An important part of this sleazy business, we nominate Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton and Brittany Spears. They make far more sense in this role than they do in their current ones.

– By The Phantom of the Ring with Bill “Potshot” Kunkel

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