The Best Deceptions

Recently, I had a conversation with Harsh about IBM and how they track performance of their consultants. Apparently, the poindexters at the Big Blue monolith have developed a proprietary metric as a means to evaluate employees. What exactly goes into this hell broth is somewhat of a mystery to me, though surely it involves, some permutation of assessments by superiors, time spent training, and dick (or crocus) size. This is exciting because the economist in me loves creating formulas to predict the behavior of something more abstract, like the QB rating, the NIKE Sparq rating to measure athletic potential in high school prospects, or Raven Symone's weight fluctuations.

Unfortunately, the Sparq rating's track record is somewhat spotty. For every Brandan Wright that it predicts dead on, there's always a Von Wafer or three that destroy its legitimacy. This comes in equal parts because of imperfections in the formula itself, as well as motivational and mental variations in the athletes. While we can never fully eliminate the human variable, think of how powerful any of these measures would be, if perfectly calibrated. Imagine being able to look at this one number and pick out the perfect QB for your system from a crowd of Quincy Carter wannabes. I know it's all a pipe dream, but it's made me think of metrics that I can develop to employ when I get in arguments with my friends.

My most advanced concept so far is the 3:16 ratio. In truth, it may prove to be somewhat esoteric for you plebeians, but I'll humor you guys and give you a simplified version:

You guys may or may not realize it, but I am still somewhat of a wrestling fan. Really, when I say "fan" I mean that I'd be willing to pay two-week's paycheck to go to WWE: Survivor Series this November. By "fan" I mean that I woke up at 9:00 on a Saturday morning to buy tickets for said Survivor Series, only to be rebuked. By "fan" I mean that it's still real to me, damnit.

To this end, I've developed the 3:16 ratio as an objective means to settle debates about who's a better wrestler.

Methodology:
My first assumption is the (controversial) contention that Stone Cold Steve Austin is the best wrestler of all time (Stone_Cold = 1). Having established this, I then evaluate all other wrestlers as a function of how well they interact with Stone Cold. The dummy variable for this is, of course, how well they take the most devasating bump in the Wrestling Entertainment business--the mythical Stone Cold Stunner.

With this, a four-tiered hierarchy is established:

1. The Cindi Lauper Division:
Prototype: Donald Trump
You see it every year. Some has-been quasi celebrity attempts to capitalize upon their name recognition by wrestling at some Pay-Per-View. In its nascent stages, this phenomenon was promising with three of the baddest men on the planet (BMOP)--ever--entering the squared circle: Mr. T at Wrestlemania I, Mike Tyson at Wrestlemania XIV, and Dennis Rodman at WCW's Bash at the Beach. In recent years, however, we've seen jobbers like Pete "OJ's innocent, but I'm not" Rose wrestling, and unfortunately, it seems like this trend is here to stay.

The most embarassing of these attempts was Donald Trump's "hair vs. hair" match against Mr. McMahon. Regardless of how shitty the actual match was, the highlight was supposed to be Stone Cold giving the pouting one a stunner. What did we actually get? Mr. Trump pussy sipping a can of Bud Light like me at ATO freshman year and a bump that Omrosa could have sold better. Judge for yourself:


PUSSY.

2. The Jericho Stratum:
Prototype: Goldberg
This is where the vast majority of wrestlers fall. Most have a decent idea of how to take the Stunner bump, but show little creativity in how they perform it. *Yawn*.



Massive deductions for not selling the kick to the ballsiac (at least act like your stomach really hurts, or something), and the lack of explosiveness after getting his jaw crushed by Stone Cold's massive shoulder muscles.

3. The Hall Effect
Prototype: Scott Hall
Full Disclosure: I don't know exactly how to treat this subset--wrestlers who oversold the stunner. In one way, it's kind of cool to imagine the move being akin to a reverse Curb Stomp ( I LOVE the eyebrows when he gets arrested), pummeling the victim's brain stem into the dust. However, when people go over the top, it definitely hurts the legitimacy of the sport (yes I meant to say sport). Does anyone actually think that hitting your chin to someone's shoulder will actually cause you to do a reverse two and a half pike? Yeah I didn't think so. Then what the hell are you doing, Mr. Hall?


It's an 8 second video, and he's airborne for 6 seconds of it. At least react in a way that's vaguely realistic, like spitting out some chiclets soaked in catsup. The integrity of the game depends on it.

4. The Dwayne-Johnson Singularity
Prototype: The Great One
When you think back to your days as a wrestling fan, like a week ago, the one definitive rivalry is almost certainly the Rock/Austin feud. Personally, it's a toss-up between the two for the title of BMOP. This rivalry was memorable not only because you had the two biggest stars clashing at the height of their careers, but also because the two sold each other's moves better than anyone else. Much like the Cowboys and Redskins, Sooners and Longhorns, or LC and Heidi, these two helped elevate each other to reach greater heights. This is, by my account, the greatest stunner of all time:


Your thoughts? You have to appreciate how the Rock's spine turns into a slinky rolling down a staircase. Not only is he the most electrifying man in sports entertainment, but he's also the most electrifying man at getting his ass kicked. You can actually hear Jerry Lawler chuckle at how ridiculous his bump is. Still, shit like this makes JR have an aneurysm, and I think we're all better people for it. No one is too good for this bump; it is better than all of us.