DIARY PERSONAL ADVENTURES IN GAMES
“He’s back! By gawd, The Detectorist is back!” Assuming, of course, anyone even noticed he was away. Probably not. Such is the mild indifference to the return of wrestling’s only archaeology-themed curtain jerker. It brings to mind the excruciating WWE comeback of Brian Christopher, son of Jerry ‘The King’ Lawler and the man previously known as Grandmaster Sexay. Such was the indifference of the crowd that the reboot of his career was over before he reached the ring. Hopefully, The Detectorist will fare better.
There are challenges ahead. When we last saw him, The Tizer Ringpull Terroriser was locked into a contract with Super Lucha Libre wrestling, a Mexican promotion that specialises in exhilarating, high-flying spectacle. The first problem is that The Detectorist has the agility and appeal of an orthopaedic shoe. The most dynamic move in his repertoire is a baseball slide through the ropes, the controls for which I’ve refused to learn on principle. Secondly, he’s employed as ‘enhancement talent’; or, as it’s known in wrestling parlance, a ‘jobber’. He only gets paid if he loses, and the only thing that matters is getting paid. This might be, in which wrestlers can age and even die. The inexorable march of time is The Detectorist’s most potent foe.
