But in this week’s episode, Cena comes around and finally does what Ryback had gotten angry at him for not doing in the first place – actually saving his ass from the Shield. Whether he did it because he wanted to make up for his shortcomings or because he wanted to be the morally superior person in this scenario is not relevant. The fact that he did it when he had every right to walk away and leave Ryback to be destroyed by the Shield, as the Ryback did to him last week – a point that the commentators were underscoring as the beatdown was ongoing – proves that Cena was indeed the bigger man. Cena adjusting Ryback’s attitude afterward raises no questions, either; he was just angry, and that’s what Ryback deserved. But not the ambush.
That was Cena setting the bar for Ryback, which then leads to the question of whether they can work as a team when they face the Shield together next week. This, then, is where the question of doing the right thing comes into play. Next week’s match is Ryback’s opportunity to make the right decision and actually work with Cena. At this point, the way Cena looks at Ryback is not as a man looking at an enemy, but still as a man who is looking at a friend who has a legitimate problem with him. Ryback’s aggressive, so Cena has to match his intensity.
But unlike Killian, Ryback isn’t a heel – at least, not yet. He’s just angry.
Why is all this important, though? The uneducated viewer may think that the nuances of fiction don’t matter in the end in a “sport” that is, at its heart, all business. As in, whoever makes money gets to be at the top, regardless of whatever onscreen drama they’re using as vehicles.
See, this is important because the guys who make money are the guys whom people care about, and in order to get people to care, these people need to be made to understand the motivations of the guys they’re supposed to care about. And here’s something I realized while watching the final segment of this Monday’s RAW, which is something I hope the WWE already realized or intended from the beginning: this entire angle is centered on Ryback.
And that’s unusual, but that’s what makes it a rare and interesting opportunity for Ryback. In all of John Cena’s angles since his becoming the face of the company, he had always been the focus of the writing. The usual Cena angle is normally designed to get Cena and his goody two-shoes character over. This one is different – it’s almost all Ryback. Look at it. One can argue that Cena’s 2011 feud with CM Punk was about Punk, but at most they were both equally the focus of the story: Punk drawing on the disrespect he’s been shown by management, and Cena still trying to be Good Guy John despite both sympathizing with Punk and having his own goals in mind.
But with Ryback, Cena doesn’t need to prove anything. It is pretty clear, after the closure of his feud with the Rock, that Cena is a good guy. Even if the crowd cheers Ryback and boos John on principle, there is still nothing to prove because Ryback is not that much further up the totem pole from Cena. Any attempt to try and write Cena as the bigger man will be ineffective (as it has always been, it seems) because it is already clearly established, thus making it redundant; this gives Creative all the space to have Ryback’s character go through a literary progression.
And this will be good for Ryback, even if expecting greatness from Vince and Creative by themselves is a tall order. It is entirely possible for him to emerge from this storyline as either a face or a heel, as long as he deals with his moral dilemmas and changes – for better, or for worse – because of them. This line of thinking needs to continue, and it needs to reflect most on the guy who is coming up, not the guy who is already there.
Because lord knows wrestling needs more characters which are truly fleshed out. We are tired of not knowing why we’re supposed to cheer or boo someone in the ring. People want to care, but do not know how. I, personally, want to know what the Shield’s definition of justice is and why exactly it seems synonymous to what the IWC wants. I wanted to know why Tensai called himself such when he, a former WWE Superstar, returned from Japan. I wanted to know what prompted Brodus Clay to become the Funkasaurus. I want to know where “home” really is for Kofi Kingston. I want to know what a ballroom dancer like Fandango could possibly seek to accomplish in the WWE.
I want to know why people fight. I want to know why people made the mistakes and choices they made. I want to know why people go from good to bad and bad to good, and I want the answer to be something other than “it was convenient.” Everyone, even fictional characters played by actors fighting each other, is accountable for the things they do, and I want to know each of their reasons.
And judging from the lukewarm reactions of the audience, I’m not the only one who wants to know.