Roman Reigns vs. Jinder Mahal
The Dream: The crowd treats each performer with the respect they deserve, or at the very least, not pre-emptively shit all of everything like the diarrhea-mouthed monsters they always are in Chicago. Yes this is seems like a reasonable thing to hope for, but in a place as stuck up its own ass as the Windy City, it’s more of a dream scenario.
The Nightmare: Literally any Roman Reigns match in front of a hostile crowd over the past six months.
The Hope: As I wrote in Monday’s Raw Regurgitated:
Like a homeless man’s Kevin Owens, Jinder‘s entire raison d’etre is to reveal how much of a babyface someone is.
And as someone who really enjoys the work of both men, I hope that whatever the match result, both performers are given the opportunity to showcase what’s developed into a pretty decent physical chemistry — don’t you dare fucking @ me — over the past month or so.
The Reality: A surprisingly watchable match, with just the right amount of tomfoolery that allows you to think that Jinder may be able to get a comically cheap victory over Roman, only to have Reigns start stringing together Superman punches until Sunil Singh steps in front of a spear intended for Jinder and is hit so hard it leaves Mahal himself down for the three.
