Let’s Cut To The Finish, Shall We? (Finishing Moves, RKO, WMD, GTS, People’s Elbow…)

Columns, Top Story

So… what’s the deal with “finishing moves”?

 

Do you ever think that maybe wrestling could be sped up?

The matches, I mean. Not the interviews. Although Triple H’s promos would certainly be made a little more bearable if they were given a little bit of the old Not I treatment…

But yes, it’s lately occurred to me that a great many matches could certainly be hastened. Not hastened-hastened like one of those old Wrestling Society X matches that played out as though the performers were stuck on fast-forward (anyone remember MTV’s WSX, by the way? Hectic six-minute cruiserweight matches promoted as “wrestling for the YouTube generation”? The last episode featured piranhas?! Anyone? No?).

And I don’t mean to suggest that matches should be given less time either. Lord knows that we see enough three-minute contests as it is. If any more time was taken from matches on Raw, for instance, there’s no way that they’d be able to fit all of those rest-holds in! And that’s what the audience in attendance pay for, right?

No, what I’m getting at is the subject of finishing moves. Professional wrestling is difficult enough to defend to sceptical friends and loved ones at the best of times, but the subject of finishing moves always raises a very special bone of contention in any discussion with non-fans. The issue was neatly summarised in a difficult conversation that an unfortunate friend of mine – for privacy’s sake, let’s call him Ames Jalsop – found himself in not long ago. Picture the scene:

*

Living room, night. AMES and GIRLFRIEND are watching last week’s Smackdown. Big Show has just hit Mark Henry with the WMD.

GIRL: Hahaha! That was ridiculous – the giant guy killed that guy with one punch!

AMES: Ah yes [nods sagely], that punch was his finishing move.

GIRL: Because it finished the match? But wasn’t the fat guy fighting the little one with the beard?

AMES: No, no. Well, yes to the last bit. But the punch isn’t called a finishing move because it ends matches. “Finishers” are just called that because they’re like… they’re like a wrestler’s special signature manoeuvre. Well actually that’s only half-true. It’s like medicines and drugs. All finishing moves are signatures, but not all signature moves are finishers. Not that you should mention drugs and wrestlers in the same sentence, because that’s just asking for trouble… [Laughs nervously] Oh, did I mention that Jeff Hardy just spent ten days in p-

GIRL: Wait, so the giant guy is the only wrestler who punches people?

AMES: Ah. No. I mean, other guys throw punches (except they shouldn’t because closed-fist punches are technically illegal but that’s another story) but they don’t all consider the punch as their finishing move. Big Show does – he calls it the Weapon of Mass Destruction – because when he punches people it’s really powerful.

GIRL: I’m with you. Because he’s huge, right?

AMES: Bingo!

GIRL: …

AMES: …

GIRL Only…

AMES: …Yes?

GIRL: Do his matches always end really quickly then?

AMES: Sadly not. What makes you say that?

GIRL: Because whenever he punches someone he uses his finishing move, right?

AMES: Ah… I think that maybe we took an early wrong turn somewhere along the way. Let’s just backpedal… The thing with finishing moves is that they’re meant to be more powerful than normal moves. They’re generally harder to pull off, but do more damage, right? Or they take more time to prepare. Are you with me so far?

GIRL: What the heck’s so hard to prepare about a punch? Close fist, BAM! See?

AMES: ARGH!

GIRL: Sorry. But now you see my point.

AMES: [Rubbing cheek] Yeah, except now I can only see out of one eye… What the hell’s wrong with you anyway? Look. It’s simple. When Big Show punches-

GIRL: Also, the replay earlier showed him knocking out the Mexican guy with a punch, and that came from out of nowhere. You even ranted about how stupid it was that he’d beaten the WWE Champion so easily. And he didn’t take time to prepare it or anything. Just close fist, BAM!

AMES: ARGH! What the hell??? Look, that match was a bit different! My point is, if you just let me finish, not every punch that Big Show throws is a finisher, but…

GIRL: Yes…?

AMES: But… well… when he wants to he can… um… punch really, really hard. Like, harder than normal punches.

GIRL: And what I’m saying is: why doesn’t he just do that all of the time?

AMES: … Um…

GIRL: That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. Anyway, what’s the deal with that briefcase?

*

You probably see the problem that GIRL, with that special wisdom peculiar to fresh eyes, has hit upon. Finishing moves are ridiculous. Not just Big Show’s either. The more I think about it, the more I realise that the grand majority of finishing manoeuvres simply defy logic.

Which shouldn’t come as any surprise to anybody, right? Anyone with an iota of common sense could point out that moves such as Hogan’s Atomic Leg Drop or Rock’s People’s Elbow, removed from any emotional context, well and truly suck. “Common sense,” many might say, with a smug expression, “should be left at the door when watching professional wrestling!” “The enjoyment of pro wrestling,” they might add in patronising tones, “all comes from suspending your disbelief!”

And the “they” in question would be entirely correct. And it follows that part of this suspension of disbelief inevitably involves convincing ourselves that, within the logic of the world of professional wrestling, wrestlers’ finishing or signature manoeuvres are more powerful and damaging than any regular moves which those men and women use – even those regular moves which often appear more complicated, more physically draining – or worse, strikingly similar – to the finishing moves in question. And – and this is the important bit – these finishing moves can only be performed at crucial moments in matches. The pro wrestling finisher is a construct built entirely on suspended disbelief, and without that suspended disbelief the whole complex logic of professional wrestling comes into question. What’s the difference between a neckbreaker and an RKO? What makes a DDT (once pushed as a terrifyingly dangerous move by Jake Roberts) less punishing than a Pedigree? Why would Bobby Roode choose a cradle suplex over a Dynamite Kid-esque snapping one? Why would Kurt favour the Angle Slam over a straightforward back suplex?

Except even within the unique logic of professional wrestling, even if we suspend our disbelief and assume that everything happening in the ring is legitimate combat, two glaring questions continue to spring to mind no matter how hard we try to believe:

1) If some wrestling moves are simply more powerful than others, why aren’t these moves used all the time by everybody? (And don’t tell me it’s just because WWE banned the piledriver…)

2) Aesthetically, in cases where there isn’t really much apparent difference between moves that never result in a pin (Mark Henry’s scoop powerslam, for example) and those that usually do (like Henry’s almost identical World’s Strongest Slam), why should we believe that the finishing moves in question are more likely to end a match than other equally powerful-looking (sometimes even more so) moves which aren’t finishers?

Regarding the first question, obviously as educated fans, we know that guys don’t go around ripping off one another’s finishing moves (unless you’re Kurt Angle or Chris Jericho, in which case they do, they really do, and you’re entitled to whine about it on Twitter like real men until everyone just stops!) because if finishing moves are devalued, so are the wrestlers that use them, which is bad for egos, gimmicks and, more importantly, business. As for the second question, we may attribute audience reactions to finishing moves over regular moves as much to Pavlovian conditioning as to palpable difference between the two kinds of manoeuvre: we are taught from early on in our wrestling fandom to expect successful pinfalls following certain moves and not others (which is why it’s so impressive when wresters manage to sucker fans into buying a false finish which doesn’t involve a signature manoeuvre). On top of that, all spectators rather like variety. Part of the appeal of manoeuvres designated “finishers” is that they are generally unusual in some way, if only by virtue of their relative rarity.

With our disbelief suspended, however, the two questions above must be approached in different ways. Within the realms of wrestling logic, for example, it certainly makes sense that some moves (the scoop-slam, the Russian leg sweep etc) are part of a universal toolbox from which every worker can draw, and it also makes sense that there are some moves – specialist tools, as it were – which certain workers are suited to more than others. Indeed, sometimes it makes perfect sense that a certain finishing move might prove effective for one performer and not another. Jeff Hardy’s Swanton Bomb is generally a match-winner these days, but logic dictates that someone like Big Show would be unable to perform it half as effectively. A Show Swanton would be a match (and life) finisher and no mistake, but he’d take ages to set it up, he’d trip over his own giant feet, and performing the move would be as dangerous for Show as his opponent (and WWE would need to collapse the ring at least once a week).

Elsewhere, wrestling logic may be able to justify why a performer would wait until a certain point in a match to use a finishing mover, rather than simply use it from the get-go. Submission moves such as the Yes Lock and the STF would clearly work best on a worn-down opponent – not least of all because attempting to lock those moves in on a fresh, struggling opponent would be more trouble than it was worth. If one’s finisher were an aerial attack then, once again, why would one attempt it on a fresh opponent when it would make much more sense to beat the guy up enough to ensure he won’t roll out of position while one climbed the turnbuckle?

But for every occasion where we may be able to bite our thumbs at the naysayers and exclaim fervently “See? See? Wrestling logic makes perfect sense!” there is invariably another example where we cannot because it does not. Prime candidates, unsurprisingly, are the “out of nowhere” manoeuvres – the superkicks, RKOs, Brogue Kicks, polish hammers, spears, Khali chops and so on and so forth. The whole appeal of moves like these is that we are supposed to believe they can be hit from any angle, at any time. With that in mind, why aren’t guys finishing their opponents off in mere seconds? Instant KO? Don’t mind if I do. He kicked out at two, you say? Never mind, I’ll just wait until he gets up and do the same move again and again until he stops getting up.

Why oh why would Edge ever attempt a running clothesline when he might just as well go directly for the Spear!? Spear!? Spear!? As for the RKO… every Monday night Michael Cole wets himself describing how the RKO is “so quick, so deadly” – but if that’s the case then why does Randy always take a guaranteed ten minutes (fifteen to twenty on pay per view) to hit it? And then, when he DOES hit it, he invariably does it in a laughably predictable “out of nowhere” situation. Would it have hurt to do that at the start of the match, Randy? HBK was always the worst. JR insisted on mentioning in just about every Shawn Michaels match that “it only takes one second to deliver Sweet Chin Music!” Well at Survivor Series 2009 HBK finally proved JR correct and blasted Triple H with the Sweet Chin Music in the first move of the match. It was like Zapdos thunderbolting Magikarp: Super Effective! Trips rolled out of the ring and didn’t move for five minutes. According to wrestling logic, if the match hadn’t been a triple threat, HBK would have won it right there. Not only did it cause everyone watching to wonder why he didn’t simply do that all the time, worse, it resulted in a complete logical breakdown later on in the match when Michaels hit HHH with another Sweet Chin Music, went directly for the pin, and HHH kicked out at two! Insane. (Fellow Pulse writer Charlie “Way Too Long” Reneke actually coined a term for moments like this: “THE WORST MOVE EVER.” I think he was right.)

Even many non-speedy finishing moves are scuppered by the very wrestling logic which they adhere to. The GTS is an unprotected knee to the head, right? If it’s so effective, why doesn’t CM Punk just keep doing that running knee into the turnbuckle instead? Same effect and easier to hit. Wrestling logic says that setting up the GTS would be a foolish risk to take when the same payoff could be achieved through far easier means – so why doesn’t Punk simply do that running knee repeatedly until the match is over?

Once you start down this particular rabbit-hole, the heavy hammer of wrestling logic refuses to stop pounding away. Before long, pretty much any move is fair game for questioning. Why does Undertaker perform Snake Eyes when he could just as easily do the Tombstone there and then? WRESTLING LOGIC. Why does Mark Henry use a scoop-slam when the World’s Strongest Slam is easier and quicker to perform? WRESTLING LOGIC. Why would Randy Orton bother with the Garvin stomps when he could just as easily hit the “Punt Kick” (Oh how I loathe tautology…) from the same position? WRESTLING LOGIC.

What can we conclude from the peculiar leaps of imagination that wrestling logic demands we take to accommodate ridiculous finishing moves (apart from that I’m overthinking things)? Simple: suspending one’s disbelief isn’t the same as suspending one’s common sense. And perhaps it’s about time people started to realise this.

And then, with the voice of GIRL in my head, I see Big Show pinning the WWE Champion after a punch, and I remember that common sense is a dirty term in professional wrestling.

 

Class dismissed.

 

Extra Credit

1) And don’t get me started on how one finisher at the end of a segment on Raw can lay a guy out for hours, days, even weeks, and then that same move barely gets a two-count during a gruelling twenty-minute match…

2) Seriously, if you haven’t searched YouTube for the first and only season of WSX, you owe it to yourself to do so. Evan Bourne vs Jack Evans? Check. Flaming tables? Check. PIRANHAS? Check.

3) Please do check out the inimitable Steven Gepp’s latest The View from Down Here. There’s been a whole load of silliness on this site lately, but it’s great to have someone who can put it all into perspective. Damn nice guy, too.

 

Lord of Space and Time. Spime.