I don't care how old you are, if you say John Cena's 'the best' I'll "FU" myself...

We arrived at the O2 Arena after a labyrinthine voyage through the London underground, pumped with adrenaline and ready to cheer on some gruelling, fearsome - but apparently family-friendly - chaos.  And the first thing that struck me about the modern world of wrestling entertainment is just how much friendlier to families it has become.

It seems that gone are the days of Stone Cold Steve Austin smashing a steel chair over his boss’ head, downing 10 beers in quick succession and then promptly waving his middle finger at roughly 15,000 people.  For the record, imagine doing that at work and getting away with it?  This was the norm when I was a young, wrestling fanatic; but, looking back on it, the suitability of this being watched by children is questionable at the best of times.

Cue the new generation of stars; including the likes of John Cena, who appeared to be the crowd favourite based on a rough count of slogan donned t-shirts.  His slogans, such as ‘Rise Above Hate’ are a nice change from the days when I used to ask my Mother for a D-X top for my 12th Birthday, saying ‘suck it 69’ on the front, having no idea why she was so horrified.

Like many world brands, the WWE's popularity must be seen to be appreciated. Until you witness a sell-out, international tour first hand - such as the one I witnessed on this, a bitterly cold night in London - it's hard to comprehend this level of success. The queue from the main entrance stretched at least a hundred yards back, whilst being the width of the arena foyer. Furthermore, most sported - rather proudly I may add - their official WWE merchandise; inclusive - but not limited to - hats, tops, wristbands, shorts and even jewellery.

And yet, should you turn up to an event without any merchandise, don’t fear... there are plenty of stalls around the entrance stocked to satisfy you’re wrestling needs, although apparently not Sheamus tea cosies (when I asked the girl at the till she politely told me they had “ran out”, keeping quite an impressive straight face).

Thankfully we didn’t need to queue as we had the small matter of the press event for WWE raw 12 to attend in the O2 lounge (it's a hard life @ Shadowlocked - Ed). This was a chance to get to grips with THQ’s latest offering, as well as enjoying a free bar (which, as an Irishman, I can tell you was thoroughly enjoyed).

And, as the proud Irishman that I am, I felt obligated to show my loyalty when given the chance to make our own signs to hold up during the event, mine simply saying “I like Sheamus.”  To this day, I can't explain my modesty towards the ginger warrior, but I suppose 'love' felt a bit too much. Either way, Sheamus represents Ireland in incredibly stereotypical form; plus, he's much harder than that Finley bloke, but I am not in love with him.

Unfortunately, Seamus didn’t manage to make an appearance, ultimately equating to one wasted sign.  There was a feast of other big names though, which helped to soften the blow. These included a title match between crowd favourite CM Punk and WWE champion Alberto Del Rio, as well as some all action bouts between John Morrison and Dolph Ziggler (a name which seems more appropriate for a French pimp), and the highlight of the night, in terms of the matches within it, was a six man tag team match.  The first team consisted of human lamp-post Kevin Nash, The Miz and R- Truth, the latter two singing a totally god-awful song by the fitting title of ‘You Suck’. If only they knew. Nash and wrestling’s apparent answer to Wham took on John Cena, Zak Ryder and Kofi Kingston; with the latters entrance providing a lot of fun; it felt a bit like being at a Jamaican night club.

The match itself was a great example of proper, tag-team match showmanship etiquette; which, if you weren’t or are not currently a wrestling fan, consists of three simple things - jumping in to break up a pin-fall; straining to reach a tag whilst half-stunned or in submission; and of course, when the tag is made, going on an intense burst of knock downs and bounces off the rope. To top it off for the Cena-crazed Brit-fans, the man himself secured the victory via his signature finishing move, delivered in perfect unison with the trademark chants of "1...2...3" ushering from the crowd. It is worth mentioning that John Cena has a glorious back. I would say it could only be rivalled by Patrick Swayze’s back in Ghost (perhaps this is the beginnings of another Shadowlocked top 10 list).

WWE live is, in all, a good experience. While I feel I may have enjoyed it more as a child, when my following of the WWE was borderline fanatic, the general action and atmosphere makes this an enjoyable trip for all. While I was disappointed not to have seen some of my old favourites - despite the Rock's recent reappearance at this months Survivor Series - the crowd’s reaction to the likes of CM Punk and John Cena made it all too obvious that things have evolved and there are new number ones. In fairness, some of my favourites kind of sucked (anyone remember Tazz?).

Maybe next time I will be more prepared for the atmosphere and not find myself booing like a nutjob when the supposed bad guy puts his hand in the air, controlling me like a puppet. And hopefully I won’t end up arguing with a nine-year-old, as I did with the young chap in front of me, over whether or not John Cena is ‘the best’.  In the end it didn’t matter...I’m older, so win by default.

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