-Yo yo yo, word yo. How you guys doin ? What’s that you say ? You’ll be doing better once you get your Clash of the Champions fix ? Well, what kind of a guy would I be if I didn’t help you out in that department. Thanks for the feedback, the 411 readers are ten times cooler than the readers of any of those other sites out there. To quote the Nature Boy, 411 readers are “Kiss-stealin’, wheelin-dealin’, jet-flyin’, limousine-ridin’, styling-and-profiling sons of guns,” while those unfortunate squares who spend hours on the other sites out there are nothing more than pencil-necked geeks. Let’s compare the average profile for frequenters of the other big sites to that of the frequenters of the 411.
Wrestling Observer: Make no mistake about it, Dave Meltzer is the MAN. He basically pioneered the “smart” movement as it pertains to wrestling. His newsletter has constantly been one of the most informative and well educated wrestling-related writings on the face of the planet. Unfortunately his followers have become rather elitist though. The majority of his readers probably sit in the front of the computer all day long looking at puro sites, taking time out only to visit a few message boards and leave “American wrestling sucks!” posts in these various forums. According to these dweebs, the only good wrestling in the world occurs at venues like Nagasaki Hall or wherever the hell it is that the Japanese guys wrestle.
TheSmarks: A lot of the Rantsylvania/Smarks faithful tend to be the follow-the-leader type of fans. They are the fans who shy away from giving any kind of an opinion of a WWF PPV until Scott Keith posts his rant the next day. To tell the truth, I used to be a big Keith mark myself. That was of course before he firmly lodged his head so far up his own rectum that the doctors fear he may never retrieve it. His match ratings have become so misguided and so ridiculously biased towards his own personal favorites that it is almost laughable. He’s an abrasive, arrogant ass to many of his readers as well, I know it from first hand experience. I guess the phrase “don’t bite the hand that feeds you,” doesn’t register with certain people. Oh well, what do I know, maybe Dino Bravo vs. Earthquake really WAS a ****3/4 match.
Pro Wrestling Torch: Not a bad site, not bad readers either. The majority of the PWTorch faithful tend to be cynical Powell clones though. It’s comical to read the reader feedback to RAW each week. The WWF could put on the Raw to end all Raws with an HBK/Bret Hart Iron-Man rematch, and dozens of idiots would still be writing in with reviews like…
Dirk Flannagan (Leweyville, Kentucky) (1.0)… Did Russo write this hog-wash! This is the last timeIever watch RAW. I know I said it last week, and the week before that (and the week before that) but I mean it this time. I am pissed! What, did Russo write this crap? Bret Hart and Shawn Michaels both wrestled poorly. Shawn got his head rammed into the turnbuckle early in the match, but by the end of the match he was acting like it never even happened. He could at least sell. But then again, I guess the Clique doesn’t have to sell because HHH has Vince in his back pocket.
DVDVR: The “who’s who” of the nerd wrestling community. These are the kids who would get beat up at the smart convention. People like this guy flock to the site in droves to discuss obscure Indy promotions from Kuwait. Just the mere mention of names like Mike Modest and Chris Daniels is enough to give many of the readers raging wood.
411 Wrestling: As previously mentioned, the 411 readers are SO cool, that even Meltzer himself wants to be one.In fact, several big-name internet wrestling personalities are actually closet 411 fans. How can I be so bold as to make a claim like that you ask ? Well, I wouldn’t make a claim like that without solid evidence to back it up, now would I ? A few examples…
Dave Meltzer – Dave has been spotted on a number of occasions sneaking onto 411wrestling when no one was looking. My sources have come through and delivered solid evidence of this claim. I present to you… EXHIBIT A
Scott Keith – My sources have again managed to come through and deliver concrete proof that the egocentric Keith is actually humbled by the quality of work at the 411. Without further ado…
EXHIBIT B
Don Becker – Speaking of the Smarks/Wrestleline faithful, I have also learned through unnamed sources that Don Becker not only parades around wearing a certain 411 artifact, but also crowned himself king of the 411 prom. Ladies and gentlemen…
EXHIBIT C
EXHIBIT D
Dave Scherer – 1wrestling’s own Dave Scherer has been known to fantasize about being one of the 411 team himself. In fact, it’s his second favorite thing to dream about…
EXHIBIT E
-Clash IV is missing in action, so we are skipping right ahead to Clash V until the tape pops up. I promised in the last review that I would have the screen grabs back up and running by the next Clash… I FIBBED. I still haven’t had time to hook it back up, so for now you’re going to have to again settle for crudely drawn Windows Paint illustrations.
-As always, thanks to Jason at Wrestling
Supercards and Tournaments for match times and information.
-And we are LIVE from Cleveland, Ohio for Clash of the Champions V – St. Valentine’s Massacre!
-Quick Stats:
Date: Wednesday, February 15th, 1989.
Venue: Cleveland Convention Center.
Attendance: 5,000
Cable Rating: (4.7)
-We start with a nice little video package, not dissimilar to the ones used by the WWF today. Ricky “The Dragon” Steamboat gazes lovingly into our eyes and tells us:
“Hey! The Dragon’s gonna be breathing fire right here in Cleveland for the St. Valentine’s Massacre. Be there!”
We are then shown clips of NWA action with this voiceover in the background:
“Across the nation, it’s a time when people are looking for Looooooooooooove. But tonight, the most explosive men in wrestling will be seeing red and breaking more than just hearts! It’s Clash of the Champions V : St. Valentine’s Massacrrrrrre!”
-Jim Ross and Magnum TA are gracious enough to host the night’s festivities. They welcome us and go right to work analyzing the card for the evening. The first thing on their minds is the Varsity Club’s recent beef with the Road Warriors. This matter will be settled in the main event of tonight’s show, which sees the Varsity Club along with Steve Williams taking on The Road Warriors with Genichiro Tenryu. Jim Ross informs us that Tenryu is the “greatest wrestler to ever come out of Japan.” Two years later, Ross would be using the same line in reference to Tatsumi Fujinami. Two years later still he would be using the same line yet again when Masahiro Chono was challenging Rick Rude for the NWA title. Ross and Magnum also make mention of the big Flair/Steamboat feud, which is in it’s infant stages at this time. This feud would of course go on to become one of the greatest ever. TA notes that “Flair and Steamboat are in the same building, and things are going to EXPLODE.”
-We get some wide angle shots of the ring announcer trying to pump the crowd up to no avail. Don’t know about you guys, but when an old man in a tuxedo with a handful of index cards asks me to make some noise, I do it, no questions asked.
–The Russian Assassins (w/ Paul Jones) vs. The Midnight Express (w/ Jim Cornette). This match is basically a warm-up for the Express, who are just five days away from their big PPV showdown with The Original Midnight Express at the Chi-Town Rumble. The Midnight’s music hits and the crowd EXPLODES. The Midnight’s theme music (the theme from the movie “The Midnight Express”) is without a doubt the coolest entrance music ever.Jim Cornette jumps up onto the corner turnbuckle and does his trademark tennis racket/ machine gun thing. Stan Lane and Russian Assassin 1 start things out. The obligatory feeling out process is abruptly put to an end when Lane connects with some low Savate kicks to the stomach of RA1. The crowd is rabid already. They lock back up, and RA1 easily overpowers Lane, choking him and throwing him into the corner. The crowd starts in with a big-time “USA!” chant, and the Russians react accordingly, stomping around and shaking their fists at the crowd. In a rather humorous bit, Russian Assassin 2 leaves the ring and shakes his fist in a very corny heel manner at a ringside fan. The fan casually looks up, says “Fuck you,” to the Assassin, and then goes back to what he was doing before he was so rudely interrupted. Lane and RA1 lock back up again, and again Lane is easily overpowered. Lane wants one more shot at the tie-up. Both men lock up and Lane immediately floors RA1 with a double thrust to the throat. Some various karate kicks by Lane, followed by a big spin kick, knock RA1 to the ground. Lane begins working over the left arm of RA1, but RA1 regains the advantage and goes on the offensive with some elbows and a body slam of his own. RA2 is tagged in, but misses an elbow drop. Lane gets to the corner to make the tag to Eaton, as we cut to some crowd shots. There are some extremely attractive females here tonight. Most girls from the 80’s simply do not stand the test of time when viewed in the post 2K era, but these girls surprisingly pass the test with flying colors. Some tag work by the Midnights is quite successful, as they land a modified Double Goozle and a double clothesline. Stan Lane does a little dance and the females go crazy. Jim Ross tells us that Paul E. Dangerously has some words about the upcoming Midnights vs. Midnights match at the Chi-Town Rumble.
“How generous Ted turner truly IS , to let you people see Jim Cornette for the very last time. Because Monday night, February 20th in Chicago, Illinois on live pay-per-view, Jim Cornette is gonna be out of the NWA. The REAL Midnight Express and Paul E. Dangerously are gonna take Jim Cornette out of pro wrestling. And Jim, you’ll rot in the devil’s playground when we’re done with you. I feel SORRY for you Cornette.”
Fightin’ words there by Paul E. Stan Lane tags back in. The Midnights hit their drop toe-hold, elbow drop spot and then take turns working the headlock.The lights in the arena begin flickering on and off for whatever reason. Maybe it was a prelude to the Black Scorpion angle that would come two or three years later. Both Assassins corner Eaton, but Bobby manages to fight his way out with his trademark right hands. Paul Jones starts going crazy on the outside for some undisclosed reason. He is just going insane for no apparent reason. Jim Cornette gets a little riled up himself after seeing this. Stan Lane puts an end to the nonsense by simply stepping outside and kicking the shit out of Paul Jones. Cornette laughs and does a little strut in celebration of the attack. Back inside, Lane hits some more crazy karate offense. Russian Assassin Numero Dos rolls outside for a quick regrouping with his team. They discuss communism and Khrushchev and whatever the hell else post-Cold War Russian heels were suppose to discuss. The Russian Assassins must have come up with something good during the time-out, as they come out with some fire under their boots to restart the match. The Assassins pull a few nifty little masked heel switches behind the ref’s back. The ref is of course oblivious to the heelish antics because the Assassins wear masks. The same holds true for black heel teams. The referee ALWAYS pulls the extremely offensive “can’t tell them apart anyway” routine with black tag teams of the heel variation. Stan Lane continues to get pounded by the Russians. A Russian double clothesline is followed by a double-choke on poor old Capitalist Lane. Lane rolls to the outside to avoid the wrath of the Assassins, who are obviously having a traumatic identity crisis. 1989 was definitely on the tail-end of the Cold War angle, and the Russians weren’t getting booed out of the building strictly for their nationality as they once were. It would be like having some random tag team from Iraq come out nowadays. Sure they would get booed, but the Gulf War is so yesterday’s news to most Americans that the gimmick alone wouldn’t be enough to get them booed out of the building. These poor Russians have not been the recipient of any way, shape, or form of character development, and thus have to resort to methods such as waving the Russian flag, pantomiming the act of standing in a long bread line, and giving the thumbs down to American fans to get any kind of heel heat. You almost have to feel bad for the guys. One thing’s for sure though, if a masked Russian points at me and gives me the thumbs down, he WILL be booed out of the building. There are some lines you just don’t cross, and the thumbs down is definitely one of them. That’s when it stops being fun and starts getting PERSONAL. Anyway, the Russians chase Lane around the ring outside, but Cornette jumps in with the racket to fend them off . The crowd LOVES the Express. Back inside, Russian Assassin II locks on bearhug of Communism. The dreaded embrace is held for several minutes, severely hampering the lower back of Sweet Stan Lane. A few punches and a snap suplex solidly reinforce the point of the injured lower back. To take it one step further still, Lane clinches his lower back while feigning pain through his facial expressions (see: selling). Russian Assassin 1 is tagged in. Fearing that Stan Lane might love his brother more than he, RA1 immediately rushes to Lane and gives him a big loveable bearhug of his own. I can’t really make out what Russian Assassin 1 is saying through his mask, but I believe I can hear him utter the words “He Likes Me! He Really Likes Me!!!” Cornette is coaching Lane from the outside, screaming “Get the arm in!” Little touches like that are what made the Express such a joy to watch. Cornette was part of the team. Right as the Russian Assassin looks poised to move in for a French-kiss, Lane manages to sneak his arm underneath RA1’s and power out with a hiptoss, but he’s badly hurt. The Assassins continue pummeling Lane in their corner to the tune of a few near falls. Russian Assassin 2 tags back in, casts a dirty look at his brother, and then immediately embraces Lane yet again for the bearhug. JR has some words about the bearhug: “A great strategic move by the Russian Assassins to slow down the pace. Make no mistake about it, The Russians are dictating the pace. It is methodical, it’s deliberate, and that is exactly what Jim Cornette did not want to see tonight.” The announcers really can serve a vital role in adding to the overall “psychology” of the match if they know what they are talking about. The crowd is going crazy with more “USA!” chants. Lane is inspired by the patriotic chants and powers out of the romantic hold. Lane whips RA2 into the corner, but misses an attempted flip. Lane’s back is really injured now. The Assassins are smart enough to slam him a few times, beat on the lower back, and keep the ring cut in half. RA1 locks on a half-crab and clinches waaaaaaaaaaaaay back, killing the lower back of Lane. To make matters worse, the Russian has obviously been studying his heel handbook, as he grabs the middle rope for added leverage. The Russians are poised to put the nail in the coffin with everybody’s favorite Cold War influenced move, the Russian Missile. Lane has a second win and is poised for the tag!! The crowd is going insane!! Lane finally makes the tag to Eaton, who cleans house with his trademark right hands. *DOUBLE NOGGIN KNOCKER!!!* *DOUBLE NOGGIN KNOCKER!!!* DNK!!! Both Russians are FLOORED by the picture-perfect knocker. Eaton connects with a double bulldog as Lane superkicks both Russians. The crowd is just coming unglued here. Rocket Launcher!!! Eaton makes the cover for 1…2…3!!!(13:24) The Midnights celebrate, Paul Jones mopes, and the Russians hang their heads in shame. A pretty damn entertaining match if you ask me (which I know no one is). ***1/2
-Bob Caudle is with Ricky Steamboat. Steamboat has his baby son with him, who looks to be about one or so at the time of this taping. Both are wearing matching red karate suits with the word “Dragon” across the back. Bob Caudle welcomes Steamboat to ringside and notes the fact that Steamboat is the number one contender for Flair’s title and will meet him Monday Night in Chicago at the Chi-Town Rumble for the NWA Title. Bob asks Ricky what exactly brings him back to the NWA. Steamboat says he’s doing it for one reason, and one reason only… to secure his son’s future. Ricky goes on to talk about how the United States needs to pull together against drugs and against crime, saying that the best way to do this is to unite with our families. Caudle asks Steamboat why he is wrestling tonight and taking an unnecessary risk. Steamboat downplays the risk, stating that tonight is just a “tune-up match” for Ric Flair. Bob Caudle wishes Steamboat good luck, as Steamboat and his young son wave “bye-bye” to the camera.
–Steve Casey vs. Butch Reed. I better grab the jar of stars right now, I just might need the whole lot of them to rate this match. Ross and Magnum disregard the ring introductions to discuss the Flair/Steamboat situation in detail. Ross talks up the motivation of Steamboat, to which Magnum replies, “Steamboat has the greatest motivational factor in the world, and he’s holding him right there in his arms.” Awwwww. Seriously though, the kid actually is adorable and the addition of Steamboat’s family (to starkly contrast the wild lifestyle of Ric Flair) is what elevated this feud from awesome to one of the best in history. Anyway, despite the message that the announcers might convey, we do actually have a match going on. Reed is the de facto heel here, because of the whole “he’s not white” thing. He likes to pull hair too. Steve Casey (no relation to the semi-legendary Steve “Crusher” Casey) was a very promising young star in the NWA at this point, but eventually wound up in the “just another NWA jobber” category before going elsewhere. He wrestled in Texas under the name “Steven Dane,” for some time as well. Anyway, Steve was wrestling one of his first NWA matches here tonight and was “undefeated” at the time of the taping. Despite his relative obscurity, the crowd LOVED him here tonight, probably stemming from the fact that he was a white wrestler fighting a black wrestler in Georgia. Sad, but true. We’re making progress in that department, but unfortunately we’ve still got a long way to go kids. Anyway, YES we do have a match here. Reed and Casey lock up, with Reed gaining the advantage and throwing Casey into the ropes. Casey comes careening back with a leapfrog followed by a nice dropkick to Butch Reed. Casey lands the arm drag and goes immediately to work on the arm of Reed, utilizing a twisting wristlock. The wristlock is reversed a number of times, but Casey maintains his advantage. Steve nails a leg drop, Brother, and goes right back to the arm bar. Reed powers out, but Casey whips him into the corner and throws the armbar back on. Reed powers out again, and bodyslams Casey. Casey still has the arm though, and rolls over the top of Reed to slap that armbar back on. Reed makes the ropes and Teddy Long breaks the hold. Reed jaws with some ringside fans before returning the ring. Reed proves he’s no rest hold slouch himself, as he begins a long series of armbar variations. Reed drops four or five knees to the arm of Casey while holding the arm bar. He mouths something to Casey along the lines of “I didn’t see you doing THAT, now did I, Mr. Armbar expert.” Jim Ross tells us that he “Finds it disgusting that a man the size of Butch Reed would have to resort to pulling hair.” Ross is apparently completely oblivious of the fact that Casey has been grabbing Reed’s hair all night long. Casey lands some big right hands, “haymakers” if you will, before varying things up a bit with an armbar. Reed proposes a heelish test of strength. Things pretty much go according to the Heelish Test of Strength Formula (i.e. Heel proposes test of strength, overpowers the face to start, face mounts a comeback, heel kicks face in the tummy). Reed capitalizes on his wily antics with some knees to the chest of Casey, and a snapmare. Boy was Casey’s mare ever snapped good there. Casey is thrown outside and Reed celebrates in the ring. Casey makes his way back in, mounts a semi-comeback, but is stopped dead in his tracks with a BRUTAL clothesline from Reed. I thought he was gonna take the poor kids head off with that one. Read locks on a reverse chinlock for two and a half hand drops. Casey powers out, but is put right back in the hold. Reed uses the bottom rope for added leverage, removing his feet every time Teddy Long turns around. Long asks Reed if he was cheating, Reed says “Nooooo Way!” Long turns around, and Reed’s feet go immediately back on the ropes. The crowd just goes CRAZY. They are all SCREAMING at Teddy Long to do his damn job. Long asks the fans if Reed was cheating. It’s really weird to see grown men in business suits getting so into the action, screaming at Long that Reed was cheating. The whole destruction of kayfabe has really taken the suspension of disbelief out of wrestling, and it’s not often, if ever, that you see scenes like this anymore. Anyway, Teddy Long raises the arm of Casey, and it drops. Long does it again, Casey’s arm drops again. Long does it for the third and final time. Casey’s arm drops halfway, before he raises it up and shakes it violently, as if to say “Casey is coming back!” Casey reverses out of the hold, and completes 80% of the corner 10 punch. Casey monkeyflips Reed out of the corner, connects on two dropkicks, and gets poised for a high cross body. Reed catches Casey in mid-air, press slams him, and goes to the top rope. Casey stands up and Reed FLATTENS him with a football tackle off the top rope (aka “The Bomb”). The three count is just a formality. (17:36) Reed celebrates, Casey mopes around like Harvard Chris, and we cut to a break. A pretty dull match to tell the truth. If your ideal wrestling match consists of nothing but an armbar and a shoulderblock, by all means drop EVERYTHING you are doing and obtain this tape. If not, you can throw this match into the old ** bucket.
-The ring is empty and the lights begin to dim. The famous first three notes of Richard Strauss’s “Thus Spake Zarathustra” (aka 2001: A Space Odyssey) blast throughout the Greensboro Coliseum and the crowd just plain explodes. A long line of beautiful women wearing black evening gowns emerge through the curtains. Ric Flair makes his way through the entrance way as the crowd just keeps getting louder and louder. Flair is wearing a black silk suit with a fur coat over the top of it. Ladies and gentleman, this is the MAN. Sure, Austin and Rocky get some loud pops too, but when Flair entered the arena, it was an EVENT. Flair gets on the mic and just runs circles around anyone and everyone. Flair: “Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all, Whoooooo!” Flair verbally thrashes Steamboat, saying he will never take the NWA title, “Learn to love it pal, it’s the best thing going today.” Flair calls out Steamboat, and offers him the choice of any female that he brought with him tonight. Steamboat comes out towards the ring, and receives a VERY mixed reaction. The tape is old, but it sounds like the crowd is split just about 50/50 as far as Steamboat goes. That’s not to say they are split on Flair though. The ENTIRE crowd cheered Flair incessantly. Flair, “You’ve got to be bored to death with the same woman every night.” Steamboat looks down in anger and Flair snaps back at him, “Don’t ever make the mistake of not looking me in the eye.” Steamboat is pissed and screams back at Flair, “I despise what you represent Ric Flair! I despise everything you like, everything you do, and I despise the way that you represent the National Wrestling Alliance as a champion!” Flair laughs, saying“You realize despise this 10,000 dollar mink coat ? Don’t you despise this 1500 custom made silk suit? Wouldn’t you like to have one of those ? Not a chance! That’s what being the world champion is all about. I am a diversified businessman pal, You my friend are on the outside, LOOKING IN!” Steamboat, “Flair, you represent all that is evil and materialistic in this world today, where I represent the family unit” With this statement, Steamboat is almost booed out of the building. Flair looks towards his women and says, “Girls, I want you to take one last look at what a loser looks like, Why don’t you go home and help the misses with the dishes pal, I’m going downtown.” Steamboat snaps and rushes Flair, beating him senseless and stripping him of his suit. Flair comes back though, chopping the LIFE right out of Steamboat. Seriously, these chops are just plain painful to watch. The crowd is SOLIDLY behind Flair here, cheering every step he takes. The two brawl all over the arena, with Steamboat finally getting the upper hand and Flair retreating to the back. Steamboat goes back to the ring, puts on what’s left of Flair’s suit, and screams “So this is what a 1,500 dollar suit FEELS like!” Steamboat throws the suit down, spits on it, and parades around the ring to a resounding chorus of boos. We fade to black. Wow! At the risk of beating a dead horse dead again, this is one of the greatest damn angles ever. I sure as hell didn’t remember Steamboat receiving so many boos at this show though to tell the truth. Of course, things would change over the course of their feud and Steamboat would be firmly established as the babyface, but things certainly didn’t go according to plan tonight as far as crowd reaction is concerned.
-Bonus Match!!! Yes!!! The Blackmailer vs. “The Total Package” Lex Luger. Our announcer let’s us know that The Blackmailer is from parts unknown. Several minutes later, JR informs us that our blackmailing friend is from Cuba. My Encyclopedia Britannica’s have long since been discarded, but I seem to remember Cuba being discovered sometime before 1988. The Blackmailer is your generic “prelim bum” in a black mask and long black tights. Of course the announcers put over the fact that the man behind the mask could be ANYONE, yes ANYONE! I’m sure conversations across America at the time of the match went something like this…
“Hey, who do you think the Blackmailer really is ?”
“I don’t know Gus. Maybe it’s Hogan!”
“No way Petey, your crazy! It looks a lot more like the Warrior!”
“Not a chance, his arms aren’t big enough. Maybe it’s Flair!”
“Yeah, that’s gotta be it!! It’s Flair!!”
“Whooo!”
“Whoo!”
I’m not exactly sure who was behind the mask, nor do I particularly care, but for arguments sake let’s just say it’s Lou Thesz and just leave it at that. Anyway, Luger does his thing where he shakes each pectoral in an alternating pattern (e.g. left peck, right peck, left peck, right peck). This mammary wobbling exhibition goes on for a good thirty to forty minutes before we get to the actual match. The Blackmailer watches Luger’s jugs dance with a big smile on his face, carefully calculating how the video-taped evidence could be used to blackmail Luger at a later date. Both men lock up to start, with Luger easily overpowering the Blackmailer the first few times. Jim Ross plays up the mystery of the Blackmailer, saying that he’s not here to win, but on a mission to harm Lex Luger. An overhead wristlock battle is also easily won by Luger. The Blackmailer locks on a headlock, but Luger overpowers him yet again, sending him into the ropes and hitting him with a football tackle on the way back. The Blackmailer is floored and Luger smiles at the crowd and does his thing again, making his pecks dance like Captain von Trapp and Mother Abbess from The Sound of Music. Jim Ross LOVES it when Luger makes them wobble. Speaking of Ross, JR refers to Luger as “The Package” for most of this match, resulting in mildly humorous double entendres throughout the match. Another lockup results in a long Luger headlock. The Blackmailer wriggles out, but Luger knocks him to the outside with a shoulder tackle. As soon as the Mailer is back in, Luger goes back to work with the headlock. The headlock is lazy at best, as is the Mailer’s selling of the dreaded move, so Ross figures “what the f*ck” and sells the move as best as he can, saying “The Blackmailer is in DIRE pain right now.” The Blackmailer powers out with a back suplex, but Luger no-sells. Ross humorously informs us that, “The Blackmailer is keeping his distance from the Package.” The crowd pops HUGE for the no-sell. Luger with some big right hands, followed by another side headlock. Luger somehow finds a way to make his jugs dance while in the headlock position. The headlock makes its way to the corner, and Tommy Young calls for a clean break. Luger’s like “I know I can trust a mysterious BLACKMAILER to follow the rules,” but Luger is brought back to earth when the heelish Mailer kicks him in the stomach. The Blackmailer hits a big back body drop, but Luger no sells that as well. Luger gives the crowd the “You guys are in for something BIG!” gesture, and then locks on the side headlock. Jim Ross is kind enough to cover for Luger’s five-deep moveset (three if you don’t count moves involving his pecks) by saying, “Well… Luger is obviously not wanting to show anything to Barry Windham before Monday’s PPV.” I hear if you ordered the PPV you got to see Luger pull out an armbar. Anyway, the Mailer fights back with some big right hands, but Luger no sells, and goes right back to work with the headlock. This one is loooooooong. Luger releases the headlock and press slams the Mailer. Luger goes for a big clothesline but misses and goes over the top rope to the floor. The Blackmailer repeatedly kicks Luger in the head from the ring apron. Not dancing anymore, are ya fellas ? Hiro Matsuda is screaming at the Blackmailer in Japanese and is like “Bluuh Bluuh BLOO BLOO YAAA YAA BLOO.” Luger tries to sunset flip back in, but the Mailer in Black gouges the eyes of Luger in a decisively heelish manner. The Blackmailer does the old “stretch the mouth of the babyface into the camera while screaming ‘ARRRGHH ARRGGH ARRRGHH'” thing. The man who is neither black nor a mailman locks on the reverse chinlock and sticks his knee into the back of Luger. Luger powers out, and hits a nice delayed vertical suplex. Luger hulks up and shrugs off the futile punches of the Blackmailer. Lex lands a huge running clothesline, and finishes off the Blackmailer with Windham’s own finisher, the superplex at (12:53). The crowd goes crazy, and Luger leaves through the crowd to a chorus of cheers. Not a terrible match, but not necessarily one that I would wrap up under the Christmas tree to give to your “smart” friends either.**
.
-Bob Caudle is in the dressing room to have some words with the NWA Television Champion Rick Steiner. Steiner blurts out some incoherent jibber-jabber, which bears an uncanny resemblance to RF Video’s shoot interview with Corky from Life Goes On. Rick Steiner mentions something about getting his hands on Mike Rotunda, stringing together such grammatical gems as, “Let me do what I gotta do, and I’ll take care of what I gotta do.”
-U.S. Tag Team Title Match: Mike Rotunda and Steve “Dr. Death” Williams (c) w/ Kevin Sullivan vs. The Fantastics. The crowd pops huge for the Fantastics. It’s funny to see a bunch of grown men cheering wildly for two quasi-gays wearing red sequins and doing silly little
dances. Mike Rotunda and Tommy Rodgers start things off. Rotunda strikes quickly with a nice fireman’s carry. Rotunda has a little gloat session after the takedown.. Rodgers run back in, but Rotunda scores again with a waist lock takedown. The crowd starts chanting something very, VERY loudly, but I can’t make out what it is. Rotunda is distracted by the chant, giving Rodgers the opportunity to land a dropkick. Jim Ross says he is in AWE of Rodgers dropkick. The Fantastics have never submitted according to JR, and his intelligence reports strongly indicate that the Varsity Club will try to be the first to make them give up tonight. Hopefully Congress didn’t leak the news to the Fantastics… Headlock by Rodgers on Steve Williams, wrenching it in nicely. The headlock is broken and Rodgers soars in with a flying forearm, Tito Santana style.Williams no-sells and things start to get really odd with Dr. Death. Williams just stands right back up and starts to beat on Rodgers, rather stiffly at that. Rodgers gets up and charges Williams. This leads to a WEIRD double-clothesline spot, which Doc again does not sell. Williams misses an elbow drop on Rodgers, which gives Rodgers time to sneak over to his corner for the tag to Fulton. The Fantastics connect with a double dropkick, and Fulton does a FLAMING little dance. Steve Williams again pops right up like nothing happened and clotheslines Fulton. Things get really weird here. Fulton appears to be a little upset with the Doc and attempts to clip his legs out from under him for some reason. Williams moves and tackles Fulton to the ground and grabs his head. The two exchange words on the ground and Williams breaks the headlock. Williams charges at Fulton again, this time Fulton grabs the Doc and throws him headfirst to the outside. Williams SPRINGS back up immediately and jumps back in the ring, completely no-selling the fact that he just got tossed to the concrete on his head. Williams does the odd shootish type tackle on Fulton again. Rotunda is tagged in and rams Fulton’s head into a few extraneous turnbuckles. Williams is tagged right back in. He lays in some stiff kicks, but Fulton manages to land a big dropkick on Williams. Williams completely COMPLETELY no-sells the dropkick, just standing there like it never even hit him. More oddness as Fulton appears to be getting legitimately pissed and runs at Doc. Williams hits a BRUTAL back drop on Fulton, throwing him the wrong way and nearly crippling him on the landing. Rotunda is tagged back in and the Fantastics finally get some offense in. Rotunda even goes as far as to SELL the Fantastics offense, what a team player. Rodgers hits the knee drop and goes for the cover. If Vince McMahon was announcing he’d be like “One, Two, Yes he’s got him! We’ve got a new champion!!!!!!!!!!!!!NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!” Fulton mounts Rotunda in the corner for the *Corner Ten Punch* and gets all the way to nine before Williams rushes over and LEVELS him with a clothesline. Fulton goes to the outside, but is followed by the mad doctor. Williams drops Fulton across the guard rail and slides back into the ring. Meanwhile, Rotunda is going to work on Rodgers on the inside. Even more weird stuff by Williams, as Rodgers tries to come into the ring and help his teammate, but Williams won’t let him come in and doesn’t cooperate when Rodgers tries to attack him. Doc hits the press slam on Fulton, pumping five times. Williams connects with the four-point stance and sets Fulton up for the Oklahoma Stampede. Fulton grabs the top rope while on Williams shoulder and refuses to let go, eventually falling back onto Williams for a two-count. The hot tag is made to Rodgers, but Williams immediately throws him to the outside. We’ve got a pier six on our hands. Rodgers slips back in and climbs to the tope rope. He comes off with a strange cross body on Williams, who is crouched down and has his back to Rodgers. It did NOT look comfortable. Rodgers has Williams all but pinned, but Rotunda comes flying off the tope rope himself and stomps right on the head of Tommy Rodgers. Williams makes the cover, and we’ve got a three-count on our hands at (13:25). The heels celebrate, the faces recover and do their silly little dance again, and we fade to black. A really weird match in general. Steve Williams was not selling a damn thing. It’s not like he was the heroic no-selling babyface either, he was the HEEL here. Again, just really odd, yet somewhat entertaining, stuff. ***
-Bonus Warm-up jobber match: Ricky “The Dragon” Steamboat vs. Bob Bradley. Steamboat comes to the ring with his baby son and his wife. If you think that coming to the ring with your wife and adorable baby boy would be enough to not get you booed out of the state of Ohio, you think wrong. Steamboat is CRUCIFIED by the crowd. I am seriously in complete shock about this. Bob Bradley is some random jobber to the stars, jobber to the co-stars, the special guests, the gaffers, the key grips, etc. If you’re ever looking for a special friend who will let you pin him EVERY time you play, look no further than good old Bob Bradley. Bradley is wearing big, dark sunglasses in the ring, signaling the crowd that he is to be “BOOOOOED.” In a particularly cute scene, Steamboat’s little son waves to bye-bye to the crowd, and an old man returns the wave, minus 4 fingers. The bell rings and we are underway. Almost IMMEDIATELY into the match, the crowd starts in with thundering “We Want Flair!” chants. Both men engage in a bit of forehead-to-forehead shit-talking. Couldn’t really make out what they were saying, but I think it went a little something like this…
“Hey Steamboat, you’re going down TONIGHT, courtesy Bobby B.”
“Dude, you’ve never even won a SINGLE match.”
“Now you’re pissing me off. You don’t know how evil I can be… just look at these shades I’m wearing.”
“Remember last week when you laid down to the ring crew, the sound man, and SlappyJack the clown.”
“I hope your hungry Ricky, because I’m about to force feed you a knuckle sandwich.”
Weeeeeeeelllll, that went nowhere…
Anyway, the two get all worked up and start pushing back and forth. Steamboat grabs Bradley, hits an atomic drop, two right hands, and a spinning two handed chop. Bradley is all like “Wh-Wh-What” and bails to the outside. The crowd is going CRAZY with “We Want Flair!” chants. Bradley polishes his sunglasses and rolls back into the ring. Obviously the polish wasn’t very good stuff, as he quickly gets bodyslammed FOUR times, followed by three armdrags. Steamboat’s armdrags are just awesome to watch, this man was on top of the world in ’89. Steamboat lands one more armdrag, and JR chimes in with this quip: “There’s always room for one more, just like the supper table back home in Oklahoma.” Ummmmmm yeeeeeeeeah. Steamboat continues to dominate Big Bob Bradley, so Bradley bails yet again to rethink his options. Steamboat goes out after him, but gets slammed to the foam outside. Bradley rams Steamboat’s head into the railing and deposits him back into the ring. Bradley hits a big running elbow on Steamboat, then freezes up, obviously not used to being in an offensive position for longer than 8 to 10 seconds. Bradley decides to try to flip into the corner onto Steamboat. Bad decision Bob. Steamboat moves and Bradley eats a turnbuckle sandwich. Steamboat hooks Bradley in with another armdrag into an armbar. Bradley squeezes his way out. Two seconds later Steamboat armdrags him again and locks on another armbar. Bradley escapes again, and again Steamboat armdrags him and hooks on the armbar. “We Want Flair! We Want Flair!” Bradley sidewalk slams Steamboat out of nowhere and goes up top for a Chris Benoit/Harley Race/Dynamite Kid – esque flying headbutt. Steamboat sees it coming from a mile away and rolls out of the way. A flying chop from the top rope, followed by a high cross body from the opposite corner is enough to put Bradley away for the evening (6:23). Steamboat waves to the crowd, gaining a few more cheers, but not enough to drown out the prevalent booes. I’m sure it wasn’t anything personal, but Cleveland was obviously Ric Flair territory at this time. **
–Rick Steiner vs. Rip Morgan (w/ New Zealand Flag). The ring announcer plays a sick practical joke on the fans by saying that this match has a thirty minute time limit. This match is a warm-up match for Steiner, who will face Mike Rotunda at Monday Night’s PPV.Rip Morgan does his goony heel stomp around the ring for a few minutes before we get underway. Steiner rushes in for a single leg takedown, but Morgan frees himself and continues with the goony heel stomp. Morgan gouges the eyes of Steiner and starts working him over with some clubbing right hands. Steiner explodes towards Morgan and nearly takes his head off with a clothesline. The crowd starts doing the barking thing and Steiner hits all fours for a little bit of canine action himself. We get a Saturday Morning WWF Superstars type pop-up box in the corner with Rotunda talking about Monday’s matchup. Rotunda boldly claims that “Steiner will NOT leave Chicago as a champion Monday Night.” Meanwhile, Rip Morgan gouges the eyes again and rams Steiner’s head into the turnbuckle a few times. Morgan removes his hand from the back of Steiner’s head, and Steiner continues ramming his own head over and over into the turnbuckle. This somehow excites the crowd, and they begin their toolish barking routine again. JR with a pretty funny line, mentioning that “Steiner is a few sandwiches short of a picnic.” Morgan goes to the opposite corner, and we repeat the previous turnbuckle spot. The crowd again roars it approval as Steiner begins ramming his own head into the turnbuckle. Morgan goes low with a big shoulderblock. He charges towards Steiner again for another shoulderblock, but Rick catches him in in midair for a huge powerslam. Steiner immediately hits all fours again and begins barking. Morgan sneaks in from behind and locks on a front face lock. Steiner powers out, but Morgan slams him hard to the canvas. Rip Morgan goes up to the top for a flying headbutt, but Steiner rolls out of the way. The heels are 0 for 3 tonight in the flying headbutt department. Steiner kicks Morgan’s ass all over the ring for a while, before landing the belly to belly suplex for three (4:40).Again, basically a squash match designed to hype the upcoming PPV match between Rick Steiner and Mike Rotunda at Chi-Town rumble. *3/4
-Bob Caudle is hanging out backstage for some pre-match words with Sting, Michael P.S. Hayes, and The Junkyard Dog. Hayes and JYD are high-fiving each other over and over again, and Sting is pounding on the walls like a PSYCHO. Bob Caudle starts to say something and Sting cuts in,
“W-W-W-We’re live on TBS, Yeah JYD, ARF ARF ARF ARF, You know, I CAN’T stand still, I’m sorry Bob Caudle you know the way I get when we do the live stuff! I got the camera in my face! I got JYD over here going ‘ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF,’ I got PS Hayes who is a PRO when it comes to six man tag matches.” Sting jumps back and starts pounding the walls again. Michael Hayes grabs the mic and starts talking about his past glories in the six-man department, and says he wants to prove that he can do it without the Freebirds. Hayes wants JYD to “throw him a bone.” JYD grabs the mic and is all like, “We’ve got a boooooooooooooooooooooone to chew. We got one, two, three BIG bones to chew to get those three bee-u-tee-ful belts back down south.” Sting starts going CRAZY in the background, beating on the walls and screaming “ARF ARF ARF ARF ARF I can’t stay still!!!!!!!!!!!! You know how I get Bob Caudle!!!!!!” Bob wishes them good luck and they retreat downstairs to discuss some last minutes strategy. It’s of course normal procedure for the babyfaces to discuss strategy in the basement. BUT WAIT!!! Kevin Sullivan slips into the picture and puts a heavy duty padlock on the chain link door that leads downstairs, trapping Sting, JYD, and Michael Hayes downstairs. OH NO!!! Bob Caudle plays the clueless idiot, with lines like “wait a minute Kevin, I don’t think you realize that Sting and his teammates are down there,” and “There must be a misunderstanding here Kevin.”
-Word Six-Man Tag Team Championship Match: The Road Warriors and Genichiro Tenryu (c) vs. ???. “Iron Man” hits and the crowd goes CRAZY. The Road Warriors come out, as does Tenryu, to a monster pop. The Warriors remove their spikes and suddenly the Varsity Club hits the ring. The team of Sting, JYD, and Michael Hayes were to face the team of Hawk, Animal, and Tenryu for the six-man tag straps, but I guess there is a provision in the NWA rule book stating…
(x) In the instance that person(s) A is locked in the basement by person(s) B, Person B shall then be given the option of (a) unlocking person(s) A from the cellar, or (b) taking the place of person(s) B in their contest for the evening.
The Varsity Club runs to the ring, indicating that they have indeed chosen option B. Tommy Young doesn’t even give it a second thought, as he calls for the bell to be rung, despite the fact that the wrong team is in the ring. Steve Williams and Kevin Sullivan will face The Road Warriors at Monday’s PPV for the World Tag Team Championship, hence their reason for being here at this time to do a bit of pre-ppv damage to their opponents. We got a corner overlay of Sting, JYD, and Michael Hayes in the back trying to escape from the basement. Head of Security Doug Dillenger is shown trying to unlock the gate with what appears to be his house keys. Not sure how many MasterLocks® have keys that also fit a 1987 Ford Taurus. Back in the ring, the Road Warriors and Tenryu clean house, clearing the ring of the Varsity Club. The crowd starts in with the same chant that they were directing towards the Varsity Club for the duration of their previous match this evening. Still can’t discern it though unfortunately. We cut away from the action to get a full screen view of the backstage antics. Sting is shaking the cage and is all like, “GRRRRRR,” and Doug Dillenger is now trying out the key to his wife’s station wagon. If only he could find the skeleton key. Back to the ring again, as Sullivan charges Animal, only to get clotheslined out of his boots. Rotunda and Williams storm in, but also end up on the receiving end of Animal’s clothesline. Animal hulks up and the crowd EXPLODES. Jim Ross refers to this match as “The Bullies vs. The Bullies.” Hawk is tagged in as we cut to the back again. More of the same. Hawk takes his turn dismantling all of the V-Club by himself. Hawk holds Sullivan and tags in Tenryu, who hits a big spinning chop to the chest of Sullivan. Rotunda and William exchange holds and counter-holds for a few minutes until Tenryu kicks him square in the chest and lands an enzuigiri to the back of his head. A nice little standing dropkick by Tenryu again floors Williams. Hawk is tagged back in, charges the corner, and MURDERS Williams with a clothesline. Hawks quickly tags out, generously letting Animal in on the fun. Williams sneaks in a solid left hand, leading into a snap mare and delayed vertical suplex. We cut back to the basement, as Dillenger finally just goes ahead and uses the bolt cutters which had been sitting there the entire time. We hear Jim Ross saying, “What a contest! The Varsity Club WANTS the Road Warriors! They HATE the Road Warriors!” As he says this, Dr. Death has Animal in a lazy reverse chinlock. FEEL THE HATE! Sullivan and Williams team up on Animal, throwing him outside and working over his shoulder. Sullivan rams the shoulder of Animal directly into the ringpost. Animal is deposited back in the ring, where Williams clubs and stomps at his shoulder. Tommy Young turns his back for whatever reason and Williams dumps Animal over the top rope, right onto his injured shoulder. Williams follows Animal outside and kicks his ass a little bit more. The action spills back into the ring, where Williams and Animal double KO each other when their heads collide. Animal makes it to the corner and tags in Hawk, but the referee doesn’t see it and makes Hawk return to the corner. Keep in mind this isn’t even a REAL MATCH. By the way, yes it has taken Sting, JYD, and Michael Hayes a good six minutes to find the ring. The Varsity Club sets Animal up for a double spiked piledriver. Sting and co. storm the ring and a big pier six brawl erupts. We basically have all six faces fighting with the Varsity Club, with the exception of JYD and Tenryu killing each other on the outside for no apparent reason. Sting DESTROYS Sullivan outside with chairs and the railing. Suddenly we fade to black and I guess that’s it for the show. The main event never even happened.
-Jim Ross and Magnum TA bid us farewell by encouraging us to order the PPV. Magnum: “We’ve had a melee! We’ve had a mob-scene! We’ve had a Massacre!! It’s gonna be more of the same Monday night, these guys are geared up for a fight!” Jim Ross closes the show by saying “Baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet!”
*Epilogue* – To tell the truth, it would leave a bad taste for any show in my mouth if Jim Ross closes things out by looking me square in the eye and saying “Baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” I’m comfortable with my sexuality, but I am not comfortable with Jim Ross calling me “baby,” nor am I comfortable with him coyly smiling and saying, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Oh well. In determining the worth of a show, I try to look at the enjoyment I received out of it versus the amount I paid to see it. The show was free, so I guess any redeeming qualities would make it worth watching as long as those redeeming qualities were greater than the value of the time that I spent watching the show (simple rule of economics.) Nothing was really anything I would probably ever feel compelled to watch again, but it was an entertaining enough show on a one-time basis. I figured I’d throw in a new nifty little feature, giving a rough estimate as to what this show is worth.
Don’t pay more than $10 for me.
That was GREAT. Anyway, this is the part where I tell you that I’ll be back next week with the next installment, even though it probably won’t be up for another two weeks or so. Little white lies RULE. As always, thanks for taking the time to read this. Please feel free to email me, say hello, ask questions, call me a boob, etc… This stuff takes a TON of time, and it’s really nice to hear from people who actually got some form of enjoyment out of it. See ya guys next time for Clash of the Champions VI – Ragin’ Cajun, featuring what is widely considered to be the greatest single match in the history of professional wrestling.
