In the wrestling business, retirement is forever. The word of a retiring wrestler is as concrete as a concrete slab next to another concrete slab on the concrete sidewalk of a concrete jungle. Think about the superstars of yesterday and you will depress yourself with the fact that these legends will never step foot in the ring ever again. Where have all the heroes gone? Well, they're retired. They're back at home in their Texan ranches, chilling with barnyard animals. They're writing books in Long Island, talking one too many times about their crushes on WWE Divas for the benefit of uncomfortable readers. They're living in New Jersey, occasionally willing to show up on television to be hit in the back with cardboard, talk show sets. So far, no wrestling man, woman, or child in the history of the industry has chosen to come back from retirement... until Ric Flair.
The "Nature Boy" is one of a kind. If you don't believe me, just ask David "The Nurture Boy" Flair; he is Ric's son, after all.. Although Ric said goodbye to wrestling at WrestleMania XXIV, he wants more. For one, I am glad that he wishes to return for a genuine purpose. Forget about the money and the fame. Forget about limousines, jet planes, women, and gun-related offspring. The Ric Flair of 2009 is in it because he does not know what else to do with himself. This is a great reason, says I. He already made an effort to start anew. He tried to run a finance company, but then realized that clients would not let him twirl his junk in front of them while he dealt with their money. He attempted to act as the ambassador of World Wrestling Entertainment, but he couldn't do that either without bleeding from some random part of his body. You see, Ric Flair and wrestling go together like peanut butter and a gelatinous, spreadable, jam-like substance. You cannot separate these two for long, so why do it in the first place?
Some fans believe that Ric Flair will tarnish his legacy once he competes in the ring, but I am not one of those fans. At sixty-years-old, Richard is the best sixty-year-old wrestler I know. Go ahead. Look around your neighbourhood. Are you going to find a neighbour that possesses the charisma and ability of a Ric Flair? I've never seen Old Man Jenkins in a sequined, feathered robe. If anything, he just walks around with a regular robe, which is not a cool sight at all. Without Ric Flair on my television, which old guy is worthy enough to be my new favourite? Nobody. Ric Flair is my favourite. He gives elbow drops to his own clothes. He speaks into autobiographies, rather than microphones. You cannot replace him.
When Ric Flair makes his official return to wrestling, every single one of you naysayers will have egg on your face. Surely, you will have enough eggs on your facial area to make several omelettes, as well as a cake or three. In turn, I will laugh from my Throne of Truth, drinking from a large box of right wine. In case you are new to this site, I drink right wine a whole lot. I am drunk on being so right. Since everybody else is so wrong, I have no choice. Extra, extra: Ric Flair is back and better than ever. Do not doubt him for he will show you up. Behold his comeback plan.
This step is done like some sort of eating period during evening hours. Possibly, this step is done like brunch, or the obscure eating period known as linner. Before you come back from retirement, you must retire. The sooner Ric Flair and you readers out there know this fact, the better. In a career threatening match, Shawn Michaels ended the career of one Ric Flair. In response, a crying Ric Flair thanked the fans in Orlando, Florida and those around the world for following him on his professional wrestling journey. Back then, his retirement meant something. Today, let's forget about it. Don't worry, wrestling fans. Ric Flair has many retirements in him. If I had to guess, he has about five to six. From this point forward, four of those retirements will somehow act as a compliment to Triple H.
Like always, Flair must exist as a compliment machine. In order to succeed again in WWE, Ric Flair must constantly insist that Hunter Hearst Helmsley is the best wrestler ever. When Hunter is not around to hear him, Ric Flair must claim that Shawn Michaels is the best wrestler ever. If Triple H and Shawn are out getting their hair done/did, Ric Flair must suggest that Batista is the best. Ric Flair must be that guy who says such things to such people who currently hold no power nor influence in the promotion. As long as Ric Flair compliments wrestlers who don't need to be complimented at the expense of other wrestlers, he is ready for a professional wrestling return. Triple H is the best wrestler alive today. Does not compute. System shutdown.
Ric Flair is a tremendous parent, what with his preference to marry young women with whom his children can play. This man is a stylin' and profilin' father. With that said, he isn’t Superman. Recent news reports suggest that Reid Flair, the amateur wrestling phenomenon, likes a certain anti-drug, also known as drugs. As for his daughter Ashley, she can pick boyfriendly fellows like nobody's business. Lastly, David Flair is David Flair. In conclusion, Ric Flair has several items on his personal plate. In my opinion, Ric Flair's children are the children of our future. He must teach them as well as let them lead the way in the best possible fashion. Without them, who will be the next Ric Flair? Who will chop their way towards more chopping? I shudder to think of someone other than a Flair.
My professional wrestling analysis concludes that Ric Flair doesn't love himself enough, which is both ludicrous and ridiculous. Chin and skin up, Mr. Flair. You deserve love, Nature Boy. You deserve love. If I was a legendary, sixteen-time world champion from North Carolina, I would love myself sixteen times in North Carolina. The breakdown is as follows: I would love myself ten times in Raleigh, one time in Greenville, two times in Charlotte, and three times once more in Raleigh. Because Raleigh is the capital of North Carolina, you have to love yourself extra hard in there. If you don't, who will? Winstom-Salem doesn’t give a dang about you. Separately, Winstom dislikes you muchly, whereas Salem remains indifferent to you. In the end, you must be your own lover, Ric. Give yourself a low blow and see what happens.
Ric Flair conjures up many adjectives, one of which is slick. A Ric Flair without slicked hair is not Ric Flair to me. Triple H owns every water bottle in North America, but that doesn't mean that you can't ask him to give you some hair-related lubricant, Ric. Flair is not a spring chicken. His fluffy, luscious hair of the 70s and 80s is long gone. Therefore, he must revitalize his look by showing us how thin and stringy his hair has become. Ric Flair's saggy body looks about one-hundred years old. Ric Flair's tired face appears two-hundred years of age. With wet, slicked hair, this Flairian hairdo shaves off at least two or three months from the rest of himself. The WWE youth movement has started. Ric needs to catch up, or he will get left in the youthful dust.
In a corrupt and unjust industry, good people are hard to find. In World Wrestling Entertainment, bad guys and girls rule the ring, but "The Heartbreak Kid" Shawn Michaels is the shining light. Michaels is a pure and well-mannered being of tremendous faith. To me, he is the Christian equivalent of the Pope Todd Grisham, who teaches us everyday lessons about the main event of life — religion. While Shawn may have put an end to Ric Flair's career, he is willing to forgive and forget. Thus, Ric Flair must take advantage of Shawn Michaels' goodness. First, he must provide a peace offering of Gatorade (Arctic Holy Water flavour) and a cowboy hat. Next, Ric must superkick Shawn Michaels to reverse the retirement spell. In six to eight business weeks, Shawn should give Ric his blessing. Shawn would like to talk to you about Jesus, Ric. Would you like to politely nod and smile for four hours while he speaks? If you want to return, you have no choice but to listen to him.
Batista is an animal who is powerful enough to unleash the fury on his unsuspecting victims. Furthermore, Batista is an animal who has trouble climbing things. Back in the third grade, Batista furiously shook the jungle gym bars because he did not have the co-ordination nor the will to climb up the ladder and join his friends. Judging from the recent, impromptu cage match between Randy Orton and Ric Flair, Batista's frustration continues. For years, Ric Flair was Batista's mentor. He led him every step of the wrestling way, including turning on him by aligning himself with Triple H during Evolution's breakup. I'm not sure what Batista learned during that time, but it must be something good. Lately, I notice that Batista is not his own man yet. He cannot climb steel cages by himself, which means that Ric must assist him by giving him a push in the right direction. Once Ric Flair serves as Batista's human stair, fans will finally accept “The Animal” with open arms. As for the virgins, they will accept Ric by bleeding for an undisclosed, family-friendly reason. Probably via nosebleeds.
Ric Flair is a fighter. He will hold onto his stardom for as long as he can. By now, his knuckles are turning stark white due to his everlasting death grip on his wrestling career. Personally, I don't understand why Ric needs to return. At most, he is a moderate and responsible spender who doesn’t need the big bucks anymore. His Rolex watches are imitation timepieces from Chinatown. His Armani suits are bought third-hand from an upscale Salvation Army on Rodeo Drive. He attracts beautiful women with his glowing personality and soft looks, not with his money. Of course, Ric’s heart wants what it wants. Since I cannot stop the man, I recommend a delicate handling of his life savings. By now, his penny-pinching lifestyle has most likely saved him upwards of ten billion dollars. Every other week, I suggest that he should take out five dollars and treat himself to a Taco Bell meal, or a ripe sack of oranges from a roadside fruit stand. Nothing more, nothing less. Ric has always been a small spender. He should stay one.
According to last week's RAW, the Figure-Four Leglock is devastating in the centre of the ring, but turns into a fatal hold on the RAW announce table. Apparently, tabletops hurt more than wrestling ring canvases. You heard Randy Orton shouting in pain on that desk. "Oh, that move hurts so much when I look at myself in the monitor. I can see my own face. This surface is flexible, yet sturdy. Overall, the experience is quite painful to my eyes and legs." Now that Ric knows that his submission move is effective away from the ring, he must use it elsewhere to succeed as a wrestler in the new WWE. People don't just tap on the mat anymore. Some wrestlers tap in the crowd, while others tap in the backstage area. Internet sources claim that one wrestler tapped to a submission move within the confines of a bouncy castle. Whatever Ric decides to do in competition, he must rely on the Figure-Four Leglock wherever he can execute it. From my view, I bet Ric Flair can make anyone submit in Narnia. Find that gateway to Narnia, Ric. Look in your washer-dryer.
Professional wrestling is fun. Not only do you get to travel around the world, you get to almost injure yourself in a severe manner on six out of seven continents. Wrestling is similar to the circus in that performers put on shows for different crowds each night. At the same time, wrestling is different from the circus in that the chance of a lion eating your face off in a wrestling match is fairly slim. I would think that a lion wouldn’t be anywhere near the ring during a wrestling match, but I am not part of WWE. I guess what I'm trying to see is that Ric has nothing to lose with a return to the squared, circular, squared-esque circle. Of course, he could lose your respect, but when did your respect matter? What's less than never? Let's go with that. Ric Flair is about to visit a resort soon. That resort is his last. You don't deserve to tag along.
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