Hey, I’m Jed, and this is Re-writing The Book. Each week, I’ll be bringing you a tale of something that didn’t happen, but could have. Tales about some of wrestling’s biggest moments, and how, if they had gone slightly different from what we know as true, wrestling might not be the same as we know it. This week, we’ll be tackling what is probably the most notorious and pivotal moment of all-time … so, read along, as I ask (and answer) the question …
What if the Montreal Screw-job never happened?
We begin our story in the closing moments of the WWF World Championship match between Bret Hart and Shawn Michaels. Shawn is putting Bret in his own submission finisher, the Sharpshooter, waiting to hear Vince’s command to Earl to ring the bell, while Bret assumes that the match will end with run-ins from The Hart Foundation and D-Generation X …
Vince McMahon leaps to his feet, ready to give the signal he and senior official Earl Hebner had agreed upon in secret, the signal to keep the company’s championship from falling into the wrong hands …
And hesitates as memories consume him: meeting Bret back when he wrestled for Stampede. Since then, they’d built a great working relationship. Even a friendship. With Bret, they had created so many memorable feuds and matches … the British Bulldogs … Demolition … Hennig … Yokozuna … even got a decent feud out of that ridiculous has-been, Lawler. He’d been able to count on Bret time and time again.
But business was business, and he couldn’t risk Bret taking the WWF Title with him … could he? He didn’t want to believe Bret would do such a thing; he had too much integrity. Bret wasn’t in this for the money like some people he could think of (Hogan immediately popped to mind … how he vowed to bury that backstabbing son of a bitch one day, if he could keep his company out of Chapter 11 long enough to do it). Bret just loved to wrestle, and deep down, Vince knew that. With Bret, pride was worth more than a bunch of paper with dead presidents-or, in Canada, queens and prime ministers-on it. Even if it wasn’t in the place he’d called home for fourteen years, he’d still get to wrestle in WCW (even if, Vince believed, he’d get lost in the shuffle with the New World Order shit and the old men like Hogan, Savage and Flair clogging up the works).
But this was about business, not friendship. Vince couldn’t afford another Madusa to happen.
But Madusa was just talent. Bret was a friend. Could he do this to a friend, kick him in the ass on the way out?
No, he couldn’t.
Seeing that Vince isn’t going through with their conspiracy, Earl gives the signal to the boys (and girl) in the back. First comes the Hart Foundation. By the time they are halfway down the aisle, D-X blow through the curtains. Shawn drops the hold, and is swarmed on by Bret’s back-up. Soon thereafter, D-X hit the ring, and the epic Bret vs. Shawn rematch ends in a DQ (like every episode of Nitro, Vince thinks). It is a lousy way to end the PPV, but considering the circumstances, it was the only way. Vince quietly sneaks away from ringside. Tomorrow night’s Raw-and for that matter, the main event picture for the next month-would have to be rebooked, now that he’d chickened out.
In the back of his mind, he wondered … what if he’d gone through with it?
The following night … Monday Night Raw
Raw comes up from black directly to Vince McMahon, standing in the ring. His slumped shoulders and morose face tell the story: he doesn’t want to be here. It’s been a miserable 24 hours, one which has seen the entire Hart family ask for releases; Vince is all too happy to give one to Neidhart, as he has never been a fantastic wrestler, and has degenerated into a fat, pathetic brawler over the years. However, The British Bulldog and Owen Hart he denies; Owen has several years left on his contract (and an affordable contract at that) and still has some marquee value. With The British Bulldog, it’s more about that marquee value, and that he might be of some use … and, more importantly, he’s not about to forfeit his entire roster to Bischoff.
The rest of the day, Vince has spent sweating and not sleeping, sucking down cup after cup of coffee, wondering if he’d done the right thing … and if Bret would do the right thing, too, and show up tonight. Around noon, he’d gotten a message from Patterson: Bret would show.
Which brought Vince to where he stood now, ready to take back his property and wish Bret a fond farewell. With a heavy heart, Vince raises the microphone and began to address the crowd:
“As some of you may know, last night was Bret Hart’s last match in the WWF. It pains me to lose one of the greatest stars in this company’s history, but the circumstances are beyond my control. However, Bret still carries the WWF Title, and I can’t allow that to go south with him. So, Bret, if you’d join me, please …”
Bret’s music is cued up for the last time at a WWF event, and there is a split second where Vince thinks–believes–Bret has double-crossed him. Then, the curtain opens, and Bret is there; no Hart Foundation, no leather jacket or sunglasses. Just street clothes, and slung over one shoulder, the World Wrestling Federation Championship. The crowd is a mixture of cheers-the loyal fans wishing him a fond farewell-and boos-those who think Bret a traitor. If Bret hears any of it, he doesn’t show it; his focus on the ring, and the man in it.
Vince holds open the ropes as Bret climbs the stairs; for a moment, Bret pauses, regarding this new Vince before him. He seems … saddened, vulnerable, almost … defeated. Bret steps through the ropes; Vince releases the ropes, and joins Bret in the middle of the ring.
“Bret,” Vince begins to say until Bret cuts him off with an upraised hand and a shake of the head. Vince had a million things he wants to say … apologies, mostly, but the look on Bret’s face says it all: Bret wants none of it. He wants this over.
Bret holds his hand out, not in the offer of a handshake, but for the microphone. Before he surrenders the stick, Vince takes the opportunity to say one last thing; “Go ahead, Bret. You deserve this moment.”
Bret takes the stick from Vince, his head held down for a moment, collecting his thoughts. When he finally gathers them and looks Vince in the eye, the coldness cuts into Vince’s marrow. He doesn’t like the look in Bret’s eyes, and again he wonders if he made the right decision last night.
“First, let me say thank you to all the fans who have supported me throughout my career here in the World Wrestling Federation,” Bret says. “It truly has been an honor to wrestle and entertain you, and whether you cheered or booed me, I will miss you all.
“But,” he continues, a streak of bitterness creeping in, “if you want to know who’s to blame for me leaving, blame him.” Bret takes a few steps closer to Vince, standing but a couple feet away from him now. “Fourteen years, Vince. I’ve been with you for fourteen years. When you stuck my brother in that idiotic Blue Blazer costume, did I complain? When you let Hogan walk out of the company so he didn’t have to lose to a ‘vanilla midget from Canada’, did I say anything? When you let the boy toy Shawn Michaels and his buddies con you into making the company revolve around them while you stuck me in angles with a pirate over a leather jacket and a goddamned color commentator and his evil dentist, did I gripe? No, I didn’t! And this is how you repay me?”
Bret turned away from Vince (who was looking more and more disgusted with himself with each passing moment) to talk to the crowd. “When I took time off last year after WrestleMania, WCW threw a big-money contract in my face, trying to lure me away. I could’ve taken it”-Bret points a finger in Vince’s direction without looking at him-“but I didn’t, because I had loyalty to the company, and the man, that made me. Vince offered me a twenty-year deal, worth a hell of a lot less than WCW was offering, but he knew I loved the WWF and it’s fans so much, I’d rather wrestle for peanuts here than get paid millions to sit on my ass and watch Hogan play air guitar. But a month ago, you know what Vince tells me? ‘Turner is kicking my ass, Bret,’ he tells me, ‘and I can’t afford you anymore. Maybe you should call Bischoff and see if the offer is still good.’ He doesn’t ask if I want to renegotiate. And I’ll bet it never crossed his mind to consider letting Shawn Michaels out of his contract, or The Undertaker, or Steve Austin, or Vader. No, he knows The Hitman will bail him out, like he always has … the Hitman will take the bullet.”
The crowd is locked in a stunned silence, as are Vince and the boys in the back. Bret turns back to Vince, who is too ashamed to look at Bret. “Fourteen-look at me when I’m talking to you, goddammit!” Vince’s head snaps up, and for a moment, a flash of the Vince McMahon he has known for fourteen years-the predator who crushed the territorial promoters without so much as a pang of conscience-crosses his face … and dies when he sees that the rage in Bret’s eyes is not born of hate, but of hurt. “Fourteen years, and this is the thanks I get? You treat me like an old, crippled horse, to be dragged out behind the barn and shot? It’s bullshit, Vince. You wanna push a couple of juvenile punks like Shawn and Hunter … you wanna push some foul-mouthed jerk like Austin? Fine, whatever lets you sleep at night. But remember this, Vince; you will never be able to break even on this deal. You sold your soul, and your company’s integrity, down the river. And you sold out a friend.” Bret holds up the championship belt, regarding it with little more than scorn. “You don’t have to worry about me taking this to Eric.” Bret tosses it at Vince’s feet. “It’s worthless, just like this company, and just like you, Vince. It’s a piece of shit, just like you.”
Bret drops the microphone and leaves, walks up the ramp and stops. Behind him, the crowd is still silent. Bret turns around and waves to the fans; they respond with a sudden burst of applause and cheering. It becomes even louder when Bret looks directly at Vince, still standing in the ring, the championship at his feet, and gives him a pair of middle fingers. And with that, Bret turns, walks through the curtain, gathers his belongings, and leaves; he said his goodbyes the night before to the people that mattered. Now, he just wants to go home.
Raw has gone to commercial, although Vince doesn’t know it. He is still too shell-shocked to register much of anything. When he leaves the ring, he forgets to take the title belt with him, which is picked up by a ring attendant.
Jim Ross and Jerry Lawler debate the fate of the vacant World Title for the next hour, until the announcement is made at the top of the second hour. The segment is supposed to be Vince McMahon’s, but he pawns it off on Commissioner Slaughter, who announces a 12-man tournament for the title. 4 men will receive byes to the second round-Shawn Michaels (because of the night before), The Undertaker (due to his tainted loss at Hell In A Cell in October), and two other men to be determined through qualifying matches on next week’s Raw. In the weeks leading up to the next pay-per-view (which was subtitled “D-Generation X” several months ago, all but forcing them to put Shawn in the finals), the tournament would continue on Raw, leading up to the semi-finals and finals being held at In Your House: D-Generation X. Brackets are held off until next week’s bye-match qualifiers, which will pit Mankind against Hunter Hearst Helmsley (now going by Triple H), and Intercontinental Champion Steve Austin against Kane.
On following episodes of Raw, Steve Austin loses his bye-qualifying match against Kane after Rocky Maivia interferes, although Austin is granted a slot in the first round. Likewise, Mankind gets by Triple H thanks to mistimed interference from Chyna (and like Austin, Triple H gets a slot anyway in the first round). The brackets are then announced: in the first round, Vader will face Jeff Jarrett, Triple H faces Ken Shamrock, Rocky Maivia faces Owen Hart, and Steve Austin faces the British Bulldog, with Shawn Michaels facing Undertaker, and Kane facing Mankind in the second round.
Jeff Jarrett manages to use some misdirection to clobber Vader with a guitar and advance in the tournament. Ken Shamrock gets past Triple H by a reverse ruling from Commissioner Slaughter, who saw Chyna holding Ken Shamrock’s feet during the pin (which, in turn, sets up a Triple H/Slaughter “boot camp” match for the PPV). Owen Hart, who is being hyped as the sentimental favorite, gets past Rocky with a sudden roll-up, while Steve Austin beats British Bulldog in convincing fashion (after Raw, the Bulldog again asks for his release. This time, Vince grants it; he has no more need for the juicehead anyway, who is far from the great athlete he was 10 years ago).
Kane demolishes Mankind in the quarterfinals the following week, advancing to face Owen Hart, who gets by Steve Austin courtesy of a Rock Bottom from Rocky Maivia (setting up an Austin/Rocky IC Title match at the PPV). Ken Shamrock beats Jarrett easily, advancing to face Shawn Michaels, who (predictably) beats The Undertaker again only by virtue of a tombstone from The Undertaker’s brother, Kane (after fending off other interference from Shawn’s D-X cohorts, Triple H and Chyna). Other mid-card matches are announced as well, but Vince notices little of it; he is consumed with guilt over Bret Hart’s tirade, and waiting to see how WCW will use him in his debut.
December, WWF
The In Your House: D-Generation X pay-per-view has a series of good matches, but draws bad reviews for the telegraphed booking. Austin continues his march to the main event and runs over Rocky; Triple H strings together a tolerable match against Sgt. Slaughter. The tournament also brings no surprises: Shawn Michaels beats Ken Shamrock cleanly and thoroughly; Shamrock, who had been promised the World Title shot when the plan to screw Bret out of the title was still in effect, is livid at how he is being misused, and walks out of the federation after the event (thus scrapping the intended Shamrock/Rocky program for Royal Rumble). Owen Hart picks up a count-out victory over Kane in an overbooked mess, which has Paul Bearer trying to attack Owen with the urn, only for The Undertaker to chase off Paul Bearer, causing Kane to abandon the match in favor of pursuing his brother. The finals see Shawn go over Owen with a chair shot while the referee is distracted by D-X.
The next night on Raw, Royal Rumble matches are already being booked: Owen is granted a rematch in a steel cage against Shawn Michaels for the WWF Title, while The Undertaker is granted a match against Shawn’s buddy Triple H in a casket match, and Steve Austin forfeits the IC Title to officially enters the Royal Rumble and is singled out as “the man with a target on his chest”. The IC Title is awarded to the winner of a 20-man battle royal, with Rocky Maivia (now taking to calling himself The Rock) relying on the help of his comrades in the Nation Of Domination to oust his final opponent, Ahmed Johnson, who ends up getting an IC Title shot at the Rumble.
Meanwhile, in another company …
December, WCW
To Eric Bischoff, December 15th is just another mark on the timeline of WCW’s campaign against the WWF. Nitro has been trouncing Raw ever since his brainchild, the New World Order, was born. The big money thrown at Hogan, Savage, Hall and Nash has finally paid off, and each week brings Eric closer to his ultimate goal: driving Vince McMahon out of business.
Today, however, is a particularly sweet victory; tonight, Eric will debut one of Vince’s most popular creations (and, unlike Hogan and Savage, still in the prime of his career): Bret Hart. It isn’t the debut he’d hoped for; Bret had been too honest and decent to bring the WWF Title with him, but that was cool. It was too late to get him wrestling for the next PPV, Starrcade, but that was of little consequence; Bret would be wrestling soon. And just having him here was enough.
It starts during another segment with Eric Bischoff getting into yet another argument with color commentator Larry Zbyszko. Eric has been goading and baiting Larry for weeks, and tonight, the trigger is pulled. Eric slaps Larry and challenges him to a match, and not just any match: Larry will defend the honor of WCW and Monday Nitro by putting the show on the line. If Eric can beat Larry, the show will revert to the New World Order. Larry is about to accept the challenge when an unfamiliar tune fills the arena. The cameras cut to the entrance, and, for the first time, Bret Hart steps into a WCW arena.
The reaction is electric. Only the folks at home can hear the broadcast team going crazy, but Bret doesn’t need to hear it; he knows, can hear what it must be like just by the audience’s reaction. Audiences cross back and forth plenty, and they know he was despised in WWF … but they want their hero back, and they want him to tear down the virus that is the nWo.
Bret comes into the ring, and audience holds their breath; could this be another swerve, another high-profile defection to the nWo? Bret answers the question by ripping the microphone from Bischoff’s hand. He looks at Larry, and says; “Larry, if you’re interested in wiping the smile off this guy’s face, I’d be interested in refereeing the match.”
Bischoff takes the stick back from Bret, his face already as red as a tomato. “You can’t just walk in here and-“
Bret silences Bischoff with a punch across the jaw. Bischoff goes down, while the crowd comes alive. This immediately draws out Hollywood Hogan, sans Jimi Hendrix music or the WCW World Title. The crowd’s elation quickly turns into a chorus of boos.
“Wait a second, brah,” Hogan says, “you can’t come in here, act like you own the place when you’re not even welcome here, and put your hands on brother Eric like that! Not without paying the penalties.”
By now, Bret has taken the microphone that fell from Bischoff’s now unconscious hands. “Then why don’t you come down here and show me how it’s down here in WCW, Hulkster?”
Hogan pauses, almost seeming to study the situation before him, then a smile spreads across his face. “You know something, maybe I should. But I think I’ll let one of my associates do it for me.”
Bret looks confused, but the crowd isn’t; they see Scott Hall come through the crowd and blindside Bret. Larry tries to come to Bret’s aid, but nWo reinforcements are already on their way, detaining Zbyszko while Hall spikes Bret with an Outsider’s Edge. Bischoff has stirred enough to get up and slap Bret across the face while Hall holds him. All the while, the laughter and taunting of Hogan can be heard through the arena as the segment closes.
The last Nitro continues the build towards what will be the biggest Starrcade in WCW’s history. The card is stacked with stellar undercard matches (Bischoff knows the audience loves to see those Mexican jumping beans bounce off one another like superballs for a little while before they get Hogan and Sting … like appetizers before the steak, baby), and four marquee matches: Lex Luger is slated to face Buff Bagwell; Diamond Dallas Page will finally get his former friend Curt Hennig in a match for the US Title; the Zbyszko/Bischoff match; and the main event of Hollywood Hogan finally facing off against Sting. For Eric Bischoff, the high of having Vince McMahon beneath his boot heel is only increasing by the event, and Starrcade should be the biggest dose yet … drug for Bischoff, poison for McMahon.
Starrcade hits on all cylinders. The undercard gives those workrate freaks something to cream their jeans about, with a four-star match from Dean Malenko and Eddie Guerrero. A few tag matches fill some time, and the slow build of Bill Goldberg continues as he steamrolls over Steve McMichael. Buff Bagwell pins Luger and DDP wins the US Title from Hennig.
In the match for the fate of Nitro, Larry Zbyszko retains Nitro for WCW by beating Eric Bischoff in an ugly but entertaining sports entertainment spectacle; Buff Bagwell tries to distract Bret Hart while Bischoff uses brass knuckles, but Bret catches him and refuses to count the pinfall. Bischoff tries to start something with Bret, who again punches him out. Bagwell tries to interfere, but is stopped by Lex Luger, while Bret puts Zbyszko on Bischoff and makes the three count.
The main event, however, contains the shocker of the evening, as Hollywood Hogan gets a very tainted win over Sting to retain the WCW Title, thanks to nWo referee Nick Patrick knocking out original referee Randy Anderson with a chair while Sting has Hogan in the Scorpion Deathlock. This draws Sting’s attention long enough for Hogan to recover, hit Sting with the chair, and make a cover (and get a quick three count, too). The crowd comes unglued at what seems to be yet another in a string of nWo schmozzes at PPV’s, when Bret Hart comes out. He wastes no time in getting in Hogan’s face. The confrontation between these two legends of wrestling is short-lived, as Hogan’s running buddies swarm the ring. Just as the crowd is about to revolt in another trash-throwing riot, Bischoff springs the surprise: WCW’s locker room empties. Reinforcements for Bret Hart arrive in the form of Lex Luger, The Giant, DDP, Chris Benoit and Ric Flair. Sting gets up and joins with the now-mobilized WCW forces. The rest of the nWo pours out of the backstage area, but are quickly neutralized by the WCW stars. Starrcade ’97 ends with the nWo being overrun and beaten down, their tainted defeat of Sting ruined by their first overwhelming defeat at the hands of the company they had knocked into a confused stupor for almost 18 months. In its own right, it is a better ending than Sting winning the title (and it sets up a gimme rematch next month to continue milking the feud), giving the fans who have been clamoring for the nWo to be defeated their first real taste at the idea it can happen.
WWF, January
For Vince, there is no Happy New Year; it is merely a continuation of the same pain and humiliation that 1997 had. Ratings are on an uncontrollable slide, so bad that there are rumblings of a “turnaround deadline” from the USA Network: get the ratings up, or face cancellation.
To compound the misery, the preliminary buy-rates for In Your House: D-Generation X aren’t good; IYH:D-X is the worst-selling PPV in four years, while Starrcade’s buy rate is WCW’s best-ever.
In another thumb in the eye, negotiations to get Mike Tyson to do a three-month angle with Steve Austin and D-Generation X leading up to WrestleMania break down, thereby forcing the angle’s cancellation (and that of a major publicity stunt).
The only thing he looks forward to is Royal Rumble; the event is stacked to the rafters with marquee matches and the promise of new stars, and to that end, Vince spares no expense in the build-up. The final Raw has a card that could almost be a pay-per-view in and of itself: Kane continues to tease a face turn and helps his brother and Owen Hart defeat D-Generation X; Ahmed Johnson wins a gauntlet match, mowing down four of the five members of the Nation, thanks in large part to Steve Austin dishing out Stunners for everyone he sees (including run-ins on half the matches during the evening, and Ahmed too); the New Age Outlaws have to cheat to beat Vader and Mankind, and then proceed to send their opponents to the hospital with a vicious parking lot beat-down (setting up a Tag Title defense for the PPV); and Steve Austin loses to Jeff Jarrett, which costs him the number-thirty slot in the Royal Rumble thanks to interference The Rock. The show comes off fantastic live, and looks great on TV. It isn’t the show Vince is hoping for, since it doesn’t have Mike Tyson in it, but it’s the best he feels he can accomplish considering all the recent problems.
The ratings, however, don’t hold up the live reaction.
Ratings are better than they have been, but only by a fraction of a point, certainly not enough to declare a victory. The Rumble itself is still not sold out, and (not that they’re worth a damn, but it bothers him nonetheless) the wrestling media is not taking too kindly to the Rumble’s card; some point out that it seems as though the matches are just time-killers, while others harp on the fact that the two marquee matches have special stipulations. Even the Rumble itself is criticized, with Steve Austin’s push-from-hell all but promising his victory in the Rumble. Vince knows he can’t afford to have the Rumble, the official beginning of the road to WrestleMania, come off flat and boring, and the destination obvious.
Desperate, and, for the first time since buying the World Wide Wrestling Federation from his father over 15 years ago, scared, Vince calls his writing staff-headed by the wild-eyed Vince Russo-and Jim Ross for an emergency meeting. Vince also decides that the meeting, and the results that spring forth from it, will be kept top secret from everyone-including the locker room-until the last possible moment. The internet and the rag-sheets are already tearing him a new asshole; the last thing he neither wants nor needs is to have all those gutless harpies second-guessing his strategy.
The results of the meeting are discussed with the boys the night before the Rumble, and the reaction is immediate and harsh: firstly, booking for several of the night’s matches has been changed around. Vader and Mankind, who were scheduled to beat the New Age Outlaws by DQ, are now instead going to lose clean to the New Age Outlaws, and Vader will turn on Mankind afterwards. Before the rest of the plan for Vader and Mankind can even be spoken, Vader picks up his chair and hurls it at the wall.
“First, you let Shawn f*ck me, and now I’m getting it directly from you?” he yells at Vince. “Why did you even hire me, McMahon? To stick it to Bischoff? It’s not like he wanted me there, anyway.”
“Leon, please-“
“No, f*ck you, Vince. Bret was right about you.” Vader picks up his gear and leaves; he will have no contact with anyone in the WWF until the following night, when he shows up in his wrestling gear, a half an hour before the event begins.
Shawn Michaels is the next person to see his match get changed at the last minute; what would have been a cheap victory for Shawn Michaels (via more D-X interference) is now a clean loss to Owen Hart. Strangely, Shawn says nothing, just watching and listening as Vince unveils his plan for the aftermath: Owen will lose the title the next night to (assuming he comes back) Vader. Owen looks neither pleased nor disappointed; he is used to being overlooked by the McMahon family, and a one-day World Title reign is par for the course.
“We’ve saved the best for last,” Vince says. “The Royal Rumble will have the biggest surprises of the night. Not one, but two. The first,” he continues, looking at Steve Austin, “is that Steve Austin will not be winning the Royal Rumble.” Austin is confused; Vince expects him to fly out of his chair as Vader did, but instead, he seethes. “Instead, we figure we can hook more people into watching Raw if we have someone else win the Rumble, and then have the winner put their number-one contendership on the line at the next pay-per-view. So, instead, we’re going to have Jeff Jarrett win, and lose his World Title shot to Austin at No Way Out.”
Neither Jarrett nor Austin look pleased, but neither says a word. It is, without a doubt, the single most ridiculous idea any of them has ever heard … a heel winning the Rumble wouldn’t draw in ratings; how would people know Jarrett would be putting up his title shot at some future point in time? It made no sense … but, so far, nothing Vince has said had made any sense.
Until Vince, with a smile on his face so big it almost cuts his head in half, drops his biggest bombshell.
“The other idea for the Rumble … well, it starts with you, Jerry Lawler,” says Vince as he looks at the semi-retired color commentator. “You’re in it, and what we’re doing with you will launch a major angle …”
As planned, the Rumble succeeded in bewildering and shocking most everyone who watched. Especially Vince and the WWF executives.
The Rock retained his Intercontinental Title on a Dusty finish, after Ahmed Johnson kept putting Rocky in the Pearl River Plunge (including once through the Spanish announce table). The crowd, predictably, turns on this, but Vince knew the crowd would eat up the idea of Ahmed getting another crack at Rocky at WrestleMania XIV … until the whole idea is spoiled by a freak injury; during the post-match beat-down by the Nation, Mark Henry hits Ahmed with a body splash in the turnbuckle, unaware that Ahmed isn’t in position for the move (is, in fact, staggered forward a bit, and turned sideways from Henry’s point of view). The error in timing results in a torn rotator cuff for Ahmed, and the indefinite shelving of the entire Ahmed/Rock program.
Vader participates in the Tag Title match, although he takes out his frustration on the New Age Outlaws by being stiff enough to give Billy Gunn a black eye, and breaking the Road Dogg’s nose. Vader’s heel turn on Mankind is almost blotted out by Vader continuing to pummel everyone in sight, including giving the referee, Tim White, a popped ear drum; to the fans, all they see is a very big, very crazed human being, beating up all who come across him. For Vince, it is another unwanted headache; he tries to bring the mastodon back down to earth by telling him of the rest of the plan he didn’t get to mention the night before. Vader is unfazed by the idea, having been promised the WWF World Title before. Of course, for Vince, the other issue is that Vader’s reckless abandon can’t go unpunished, but right now, he is running short on believable main event talent. A monetary punishment would have to suffice.
Triple H pulls off the biggest win of his career, upsetting The Undertaker with the help of his brother Kane, who plants his brother with a tombstone, and puts him in the casket while Triple H is unconscious in the ring. Kane then pulls the casket back to open area in front of the entrance, pours gasoline on the casket, and sets it ablaze. Attendants eventually get the casket put out, but the psychological damage has been done for the audience: The Undertaker is in serious trouble, trouble he may not be able to get out from if he doesn’t face down his brother.
Shawn also surprised Vince and shows up, and proceeds to drop the title to Owen without reservation … but, unfortunately for the fans, the match is horrible, with Shawn also taking out his aggressions with stiff wrestling (and Owen returning the favor in kind), and, even worse, neither of them selling anything at all. The only selling that happens at all is done for the scripted ending, which has Owen getting out of the cage after hitting an enziguiri on Shawn, much in the same fashion as he did in the fall of ’95 … although Shawn merely sells it by laying on his stomach, head propped up by his arms, watching Owen crawl through the door. The crowd unanimously boos during the whole train wreck of a match; Shawn only acknowledges it as he’s leaving the ringside area after the match, giving the crowd the finger. After he gets to the back room, he grabs his bag, gets in his car, and leaves without a word.
But if the World Title match got a chilly reception for its participants ruining the flow of it, the Royal Rumble itself was even more disliked, both for the ending, and its “big bombshell”. The ending (which was even more despised, simply because of the crowd’s hatred of the bombshell) goes off without a hitch, with Jarrett being the last man in the ring after Austin takes a Rock Bottom while attempting to Stun Jarrett. The ending is pissed on by the fans that hadn’t left the building already.
It is the bombshell that gets people talking the most, though … and, as Vince announced, it all started with the surprise entrant in the Rumble of Jerry Lawler. His entrance at number 17 comes sends the fans into a rousing chorus of booing, as does his “wrestling”, which is mostly stalling and ducking under the ropes to hide. His participation is kept to a minimum in the Rumble until someone coming through the stands broadsides him … someone with short black hair, a goatee, and wearing an E-C-F’n-W shirt. Within moments, ECW wrestlers The Sandman, Mikey Whipwreck and New Jack join Tommy Dreamer in their attack on Lawler, the man who had led in invasion in their fed several months beforehand. The San Jose, California audience, who has little exposure to ECW, revolts on this incursion of these sloppy looking brawlers attacking one of their own (even if he is the whiny, irritating heel color guy). Two more of ECW’s wrestlers, Rob Van Dam and Sabu (Lawler’s only allies in his invasion) come to Lawler’s aid, but not before getting the attention of the nine men in the ring, who come to the aid of Lawler, bringing the Rumble to a complete halt. Having the match stop makes the crowd even angrier than having to deal with the rank amateurs invading their space, and some live attendees actually get up and leave. Eventually, the invaders are “detained” by security and thrown out of the arena, but not before the damage is done to the flow of the match, and the remainder of the PPV.
After getting reports of the disaster that was the 1998 Royal Rumble, Vince tries his best to have Raw repair the damage done by the previous night’s fiascos, but the damage keeps coming in waves; with Ahmed Johnson injured (f*cking worthless klutz, how many injuries can he get?, thinks Vince), a new program has to be started with The Rock, and the only nominee is Chainz, the leader of the heatless Disciples Of Apocalypse stable, and the beginning of the feud is greeted in kind: with apathy by fans.
Austin challenges Jarrett to a one-on-one match, who rebuffs him and gets a Stunner for his refusal. This goads Jarrett into a match everyone can predict the end of: Jarrett loses, while Austin goes to WrestleMania.
Vader is given exactly what Vince promises to him: the World Wrestling Federation Title, now on the waist of a fourth man in two months. The match has Triple H causing the loss for Owen with a Pedigree while the referee is distracted, a last minute change thanks to a new stomach-cringing surprise for Vince: like Ken Shamrock, Shawn Michaels has walked out of the federation, thus killing the Shawn/Owen program dead in its tracks. To accommodate for the loss of Shawn Michaels in D-X, Triple H inducts the New Age Outlaws as new members of the gang. Meanwhile, after the match is over, Mankind makes the save for Owen, setting up a tag match for the following week, and Vader’s title defense at No Way Out. Vince already has planned that he will change Mick Foley’s gimmick to Cactus Jack for the program, hoping for a good reaction from his legion of deathmatch-loving sickos … the same sickos who like ECW’s barbed wire and Taipei deathmatches.
And it is those ECW mutants that he appeals to by trying to keep the ECW angle alive, by having a face-to-face confrontation between Lawler and ECW’s leader, the so-called “mad scientist” of wrestling, Paul Heyman. The heated confrontation, in which Lawler insists that ECW is to wrestling what a barroom brawl is to boxing, turns into a fight, which draws out ECW wrestlers on both sides of the argument. Again, security drags the sides apart and kicks the ECW wrestlers out of the building, but not before Heyman petitions Vince McMahon for equal airtime on the following to show the brand of wrestling ECW offers to people. Vince accepts, hoping to capture fans of ECW and hook them on his product by giving them a national showcase, unaware that ECW fans already know of the WWF, and have an active distaste for it … a feeling shared by some of the boys, who view McMahon’s inter-promotional plot as nothing more than a vote of no-confidence in their talents. And, furthermore, that asking for help from an indy fed which employs people like The Sandman and Balls Mahoney, whose wrestling repertoire consisted of chair shots and punches, is a slap in the face to all the hard-working men who busted their ass and trained for 12 hours a day in sweaty gyms, all to have their heat stolen on their own show by some cigarette-smoking, beer-guzzling moron with a bamboo cane who makes himself bleed with beer cans. The resentment grows day by day, especially as Vince, who knows of the distaste for the angle, refuses to kill it; what they boys don’t understand is that Vince has made an agreement, and he intends to live up to it, no matter the cost.
It’s more than he did for Bret, at least.
Meanwhile, in WCW …
Souled Out fast approaches, and for WCW, the wave of momentum is a tsunami. Live gates are growing by the event, even outselling the early days of the New World Order. Television ratings are on the rise, too, beating Raw easily, and pulling even further away as time goes on. And what more, Bischoff is booking long-term; provided he doesn’t get blindsided with an injury, he has programs booked through March right now, and has even managed to do so over the constant complaining and backbiting by WCW’s elite. He can’t put his finger on how he’s been able to rein in the anarchy that has been the locker room of WCW for the past year and a half, but he believes it is a renewed sense of purpose: the goal of driving Vince McMahon into bankruptcy. And to that end, he credits his signing of Bret Hart as the motivating factor. He has one of Vince McMahon’s most recognizable faces, and now, he can taste the ultimate victory.
The first Nitro of 1998, and the first after the blockbuster Starrcade ’97, has Bret Hart officially leading the charge of WCW against the nWo, christening his stable The Honor Guard (which, it is said, comes from their desire to fight to restore the honor the name of WCW once carried before the incursion of Eric Bischoff’s despicable gang of thugs. Fighting along side him is former nWo member The Giant, Lex Luger, new WCW arrival Davey Boy Smith, Diamond Dallas Page, and the co-captain of the crew, Sting. The group is given even more legitimacy in a touching, almost haunting moment, courtesy of The Nature Boy Ric Flair and The Enforcer Arn Anderson.
Flair comes out, accompanied by Double-A, during The Honor Guard’s debut the night after Starrcade. Immediately, Bret and Flair lock eyes; they have met before, Bret having bested Flair for the WWF World Title 5 years ago. Bret keeps everyone cool, and when it is requested, hands over the microphone over to Double-A.
“A few months ago,” he says, “I stood in this ring and turned over my spot to a man who eventually stabbed me in the back.” The crowd comes alive with boos at the memory of Curt Hennig’s betrayal of the Horsemen … a betrayal that led to the first voluntary disbanding of the Horsemen in the organization’s history. “I should have known Curt Hennig was a two-faced coward, but I wanted to believe … no, I needed to believe he was one of us. WCW was, and still is facing, a threat, and I wanted to believe that he had come to us willing to fight for the cause of tradition and honor. He led us all astray.” Arn stepps up to Bret, looking him in the eye. “I’ve known you for some time, Bret, unlike that snake in the grass Hennig, I know your track record. You’re a man of honor, a man who puts the ultimate value in his own word. But what I need to know from you is … do you trust the men standing behind you?” The crowd murmurs with a mixture of cheers and boos, unsure of whether this was building to a heel turn for the former Enforcer, or simply a man wanting to make sure the men declaring themselves as allies weren’t in fact double agents. “Luger has a dirty track record … so does Page. And last I remember”-he points at The Giant-“that guy was swearing he was nWo for life. So, I put it to you like this, Bret Hart … in our darkest hour, you are stepping up to the plate and trying to marshal the scattered forces of WCW together as one, and for that, I commend you. But do you honestly know if you can trust the men you’re standing side by side with?”
Bret brings his own microphone up to bear addresses Arn, as well as Flair (who has been uncharacteristically silent), and the waiting fans: “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I had reservations, Arn.” The crowd doesn’t know what to make of this; it certainly doesn’t sound like a confident general. “I’ve had my differences with Lex Luger. And I know The Giant has already once turned his back on World Championship Wrestling. But these men, no matter what their backgrounds, have one thing in common: they all came to my defense without my asking for help. When those New World Order scum were ganging up on me, and I was outnumber seven or eight or ten to one, it was Sting, and DDP, and The Giant and Luger who came out and helped turn the tide. It was these guys who stood by me, and stood up for WCW, and beat every member of the New World Order into submission last night. And it’s with these guys, and anyone else who wants to jump on the bandwagon, that Sting and I will lead into Souled Out and burn the nWo to the ground!”
After the crowd’s cheers finally subside, Ric Flair takes his turn at the microphone. His voice is calm, almost fatherly. “Ya know something, Bret Hart, I’ve been in this business for over twenty years. I’ve seen wrestlers say a lot of things, and make a lot of promises, and not more than a couple of ’em ever even come close to backing up their words. Back when me and Arn ran with Tully Blanchard and Ole Anderson in the original Four Horsemen, we were about the only men who did what they said, and said what they did. We may have been cheats, we may have been bullies, but we never did anything less than what we said or set out to do.” Flair taps a finger on Bret’s chest. “I see that in you, Bret Hart. I don’t see a man who thinks about taking on Hall and Nash and Hogan … I see a man who says he will take them on, and what’s more, take them down.” He pauses, looking at the crowd, who are eating this up with a spoon; it is almost a passing of the torch, without their even planning on it. “When I rode with the Horsemen, there wasn’t a challenge we backed down from, an enemy we didn’t fight, a war we didn’t give a hundred percent towards, even if we lost, we came back another day to fight the fight again … but when the nWo beat us back at WarGames in September … that was the first time the Horsemen failed to get the job done. The Horsemen can’t win this war, and that’s why, much as it hurt me to do it, I called an end to them. But I think you can do it, Bret. You, and the Stinger, and the big man, and Luger” (as he speaks, Flair’s voice starts to finally show emotion, the only emotion Flair knows in the ring: frantic excitement, the red-faced maniac) “and Davey Boy and DDP … I think you can do it! I know you can do it! I wanna see you do what the Horsemen couldn’t … and if you need the help, you can count on me, on Arn Anderson, on Chris Benoit, on anyone that ever called themselves a Horseman, to style and profile and walk that aisle and do whatever it takes to run those miserable sons of bitches out of WCW for good!“
The crowd’s electric response, acceptance of Flair’s coronation of Bret Hart and The Honor Guard as his successor to the throne, tastes like success to Eric Bischoff, and the ratings leading into Souled Out back it up. To that end, he doesn’t fail to give the crowd what they want, a stacked card for the pay-per-view: Davey Boy Smith & Lex Luger challenges The Outsiders for the WCW Tag Titles; DDP faces Macho Man Randy Savage in a rematch of their deathmatch from Halloween Havoc; The Giant is slated to face Buff Bagwell; Bret Hart faces Curt Hennig; and, in a rematch for the WCW Championship, Hollywood Hogan defends against Sting inside a steel cage. Normally, Eric Bischoff knows wrestling fans didn’t take to seeing the same match two months in a row on pay-per-view (especially one that had been built up for 16 months), but for this one, they’d pay double the normal amount at the idea of Sting finally getting his hands on Hollywood Hogan, with nowhere to run or hide.
Of course, Bischoff has more surprises for the fans, but that’s to be expected.
Souled Out connects with the fans in a way that even Starrcade couldn’t do: the fans can see, for the first time, a gathered force standing up to the New World Order, and every match it treated like a main event in their eyes. Davey Boy Smith and Lex Luger fail in their bid to get the WCW Tag Titles off of The Outsiders, but perennial fan favorites The Steiners make the save from an nWo beating for Smith & Luger. It is The Steiners the fans want to take the belts off The Outsiders anyway, and Bischoff has plans for that at February’s Superbrawl VIII.
DDP manages to defeat the Macho Man thanks to a Diamond Cutter on a chair. Miss Elizabeth tries to blind DDP with hairspray during the match, but is stopped by DDP’s wife, Kimberly, and a catfight ensues. Another match set up for the following PPV … not a technical masterpiece by any means, but Bischoff knows the value for the audience of seeing these two hot women get their hands on one another.
The Giant has no trouble with Buff Bagwell, beating him in under a few minutes. However, after the match, Kevin Nash attacks The Giant and, to the amazement of the crowd, picks him up for a jackknife powerbomb … except that, to the viewers, it doesn’t look like Nash gets him up enough, and drops the 500-pounder squarely on the shoulders and back of the neck. Another program set up, Bischoff thinks, marveling at his long-term booking as of late.
Bret Hart’s first match on a WCW pay-per-view is nothing short of breathtaking. Hennig, with whom Bret has worked before, doesn’t fail to put on the match of his lifetime, and nor does Bret, who now shares an unspoken goal with his new boss, Eric Bischoff: to destroy Vince McMahon’s empire, to bring him to his knees. The match is a technical masterpiece, and earns the distinction of Pro Wrestling Illustrated magazine’s Match Of The Year award. Bret wins the match clean, making Hennig submit to the Sharpshooter.
The rematch of the year follows, and proves to be an exciting, and bloody, affair. Hogan blades after being driven face-first into the cage, while Sting is “busted open” thanks to Hogan using the buckle of his weight belt on Sting’s forehead. Unfortunately for the fans, the match does not end the way they’d be led to believe: Sting loses his second bid to upend Hogan as World Champion by, of course, dirty tactics; Macho Man feeds Hogan Sting’s trademark baseball bat through the cage and wallops him into unconsciousness. The crowd is on the brink of revolt until The Honor Guard, along with Ric Flair, Arn Anderson, Chris Benoit, Dean Malenko, Goldberg and a host of other WCW stars flush the ringside area of any lurking nWo agents. With the ringside area clear, they steal the keys to the steel cage door, let Bret Hart in, then lock the door behind him. The ensuing fight sends the crowd into overdrive-this is a fight that was promised, and not delivered, almost 5 years ago, back in the WWF, and the crowd is eating it up with a spoon. The PPV ends with an image lifted (intentionally) from WrestleMania XIII: the image of Bret Hart holding Hollywood Hogan in the Sharpshooter, blood pouring down his face while he screams in agony. Bischoff knows it’s cheesy to mimic one of the WWF’s most famous moments in recent history, but for this, he can’t help it … and the crowd loves it anyway, so who gives a shit if some internet hack calls him a rip-off artist? It got the reaction he wanted, fulfilled the booking plan, and, when the buy-rates come in, confirm his beliefs that it was the capper (and defining moment) on a PPV that made him an ass-load of money.
To be continued …
