SirSmUgly

You know, people used to meme on that game back in the day, but it's a very fun party game, and the ability to bet your earnings in the final big contest and either go way out ahead or lose most all of it was also a neat twist. I thought the minigames were mostly fun, especially that fireworks minigame. I still haven't played the second one, though. First Light and Second Son are also perfect podcast games where the traversal is so enjoyable that it carries the game and makes the collectathon part enjoyable. Saints Row IV scratches that itch as well.

I remember how excited I was for Crackdown 2 after the twist ending to the first one. Like yeah, I was excited to see how they framed the second game based on that. But then I got Crackdown 2, popped it in, and there were a bunch of zombies or whatever. Boy, was that disappointing. Yesterday, when trying to get to an underboss standing near the top of the lighthouse, I swum behind it, climbed the cliffs next to it, and then jumped up planks on the back of the lighthouse before dropping down onto him and simply booting him off the walkway, not a bullet fired or needed to kill him. It's too bad that the third one doesn't give you that freedom, but I'm going to play it anyway. My short list of XBOX One-specific games to look for when I hit one of the nearby retro stores this weekend: Sunset Overdrive Rare Replay Crackdown 3 In other news, I ghosted the CIA Listening Post in Rome for the first time while playing Alpha Protocol. Feels good! As I make the transition away from PlayStation and to PC, I'm slowly gathering GOG games. I have 360 discs for games like AP and Fallout: New Vegas, but having cheap backups via GOG doesn't hurt. I'm in the market for an external disc drive for my all-in-one so that I can burn those installers to disc AND so that I can reinstall my publisher copy of Lionhead Studios' The Movies, a game with a gameplay loop that is even nastier than Civilization or Football Manager. Once, I popped it in at about ten in the morning, played for what felt like a couple hours, then looked up at a clock and saw that it was seven in the evening. Disgusting. After that, I put myself on a strict time diet for this game. I set timers on my fucking phone when I play it. It's been a few years since I have, but it's the summer and I have time to waste six hours of a random Tuesday putting five different movies into production on the lot at the same time. God, I love that game so much. I'm in the market for the first device that is essentially about as easy as a console while being open like PC. I want a device that docks like a Switch, so something like a ROG Ally, but without having to make a bunch of shit work to play a game, which is the worst thing about PC gaming. Even playing Alpha Protocol on PC is a pain in the fucking dick sometimes with controller issues, etc., and that's a sixteen-year-old game or whatever that should (in my console-enjoying eyes) just run. It really did not like my PS4 controller at all, and then even with the XBOX controller occasionally, the left bumper won't trigger the special abilities and I have to exit and mess with the settings. There has to be some way to make PC gaming consolized enough to make people like me happy. I also dug my Saturn and OG Xbox out of storage. They both need some TLC, so I'm going to clean them. Right now, I'm gearing up to create a little area in the home office/guest room with a CRT television that has a VCR in it and then a series of my old consoles ready and playable next to it along with some of my old VHS tapes (and I'm going to collect a few more just for the heck of it). I'm going to go deeper into retro game collecting, as expensive as it can be.

I've moved over to revisiting 1982 Mid-South while riding my exercise bike, and JYD is so fucking cool. That is all.

My wife does a lot of Buy Nothing, both picking up stuff and giving away stuff. She went to pick up some shelving from a fella in our area who worked at Microsoft, and he gave her a loose console that he was planning to get rid of for free. I didn't even look at it; I thought it was an XBOX Series S, which is useless to me since it's an all-digital console. We kept it around on one of the new shelves. A couple of days ago, I figured out that I needed to get an XBOX controller to effectively play Alpha Protocol (it does not like the Dualshock 4's analog triggers, which makes lockpicking an adventure). I went to check out this console and see if the dude had thrown in a controller, and I found out that what this dude actually gave us was an XBOX One S, not a Series S. And best of all, it's a One S with a disc drive. Long story short, I'm playing through Crackdown for the first time in years, and it's one of the best podcast games ever. They could have cut out all the combat and driving and just put orbs around the city, and I'd have fun hunting for and collecting them without needing any other gameplay. I killed off half a Between the Sheets mainline podcast after the dishes were done and the house was quiet last night The list of emulated games is sadly short, especially for the OG XBOX, so that's disappointing, but I'll probably play through Crackdown and Panzer Dragoon Orta soon. So much for Shining Force. And then I'm gonna check out this Developer Mode deal...

It's summer, so I have more time to play video games. I decided that I'd play a game that, for some reason, usually isn't my bag, and try to finish it before the summer ended. My choice? Shining Force via the Genesis app. I love SRPGs, but I don't like the typical Western fantasy-ish RPG setting that so many developers favor. I'm going to try and stick Shining Force out this time; I've played a bit before and enjoyed the combat quite a bit. I do wish there were more high-quality turn-based tactics games in settings I like. XCOM is a good sci-fi example and I loved the cartoony nonsense of the first Mario and Rabbids (which I thought was fairly creative in design by working Mario's ability to jump his way across a map into the battles). That's probably not a great genre for big budget releases at this point, though. I poked into Midnight Suns a bit, but card-based gameplay of that sort turns me off entirely. I also was poking around GoG and saw that Alpha Protocol was ten bucks, so since my 360 is packed up somewhere, I bought a digital copy. I was just thinking about that game, so it's time for another playthrough, and then another after that because once I beat it as a recruit, I'll be making sure to turn the titular agency into my own mercenary shop in my NG+ Veteran playthrough. And I'm also going to get that nutty, oversexed German operative to join me.

It's very funny that in Beyond Nitro, a book written specifically to help Bischoff revise his reputation as a creative/promoter/executive, in the midst of a bunch of chapters that randomly attack Vince Russo for being dogshit at his job (true, but still), even Guy Evans couldn't author his way around the data showing that Bisch and Hogan were the ones who especially drove TNA into the ground from day one of their arrival. If Bisch was hoping that he could scapegoat someone else for his and Hogan's failures in TNA when his toady author buddy couldn't even manage it, he was sorely mistaken. He looked like a jackass in that final episode, particularly when they discussed Impact's failed move to Mondays opposite RAW.

Sure, and to Elsalvaje's point, I think that's what Jarrett thought was new about TNA: What if we did Memphis, but modernized it for a national audience? I think he also tried to meld the WCW cruiserweight stuff with that because he was in WCW at its peak in 1996 and 1997 and saw it work (and saw it be a great part of the show in 2001 even in dying days WCW). Modernized Memphis for a national promotion + the one thing about Bischoff-era WCW that fans unanimously liked isn't a terrible framework for a promotion in theory. In theory.

I've never listened to his pod (though in the second DSotR, Jarrett used the phrase "rumor and innuendo" and it reminded me that he's spent way too much time around Conrad Thompson). However, this seems to fit in with the purpose of the three-part DSotR series and... This pretty much nails what I think DSotR's producers were trying to establish. TNA before Dixie = had a chance to be what AEW is. TNA with Dixie = the dream is dead and also she drove Jarrett to drink. Much like they laundered Bischoff's arguments about Turner and EBITDA, etc., that Bisch migrated from 83 Weeks to the Who Killed WCW? miniseries. My view established in the past three or four years is that Jarrett didn't see TNA as a buffet for wrestling so much as an updated Memphis for a modern audience (plus the one thing that didn't fit, which is a continuation of WCW's cruiserweight division via the X Division because of how popular that was with general wrestling fans). Especially now that I'm watching more Memphis, I can see a) just how trashy a lot of it is and b) how Jarrett would be tied to Russo not just because Russo's the guy who believed in him as a main eventer, but because Jarrett simply sees Russo as a guy who can reproduce trashy Memphis angles for an updated audience.

Before: "Jarrett's TNA was never going to make it because he was too tied to Russo/2000 WCW-style programming." After: "TNA failed because of Dixie Carter despite Jeff's best efforts." He also got to set the record straight about his relationship with Karen for the fans who care too much about that kind of shit.

The DSotR guys are in the business of helping old dudes rehabilitate their reputations. They (alongside Guy Evans) tried with Bischoff. It didn't work on me, and I don't think it particularly worked with wider wrestling audiences, but they tried again with Jarrett.

I'm no Vince Russo fan, but I swear that every time his comments are juxtaposed against Bischoff's on these shows, Russo comes off as the far more honest speaker.

I'm watching the second part right now and my only real thought about it is, "Hey, Bob Backlund showed up in TNA?"

Don't feel bad about feeling bad that age comes for us all. This is why I ask the folks who read these. I get free etymology lessons! I just assumed that the first Shea show was lost forever, but if the folks at the WWE Vault can come up with the full show tucked away in a corner of the archives, that'd be great. The same goes for 1976. Re: Backlund putting Hogan over, that makes sense. As an aside, I think that Bob Backlund is very underrated and wonder if that's partially because he wasn't good on the stick until 1994. He's got the best strongman spots for a regular-sized dude that I've ever seen. He's so much fun in the ring.

WWF Showdown at Shea ‘80 (9 August 1980): A show in which yet again, a wrestler named Chavo Guerrero stands out in the midcard This year, I’ve probably watched more WWFE programming than I have since about 2014. Back in '14, I spent that watch time between NXT, WWFE PPV, and the archives on the WWE Network. Here in '26, I haven’t watched a WWF show that has been produced past 1997. Eventually, I’ll creep out to around 2001, and one day, I will sit down and get the TV organized for my 1991 WCW vs. 2002 WWF project that I want to work through. As for today, ‘70s and ‘80s WWF (or WWWF) is a bit more of a blind spot for me than I’d like it to be, so I’m going to work on correcting that. Unfortunately, I can’t find the first two Showdowns at Shea online (understandably since they were taped in 1972 and 1976). Also unfortunately, this version of the 1980 Showdown is a WWE 24/7 reproduction with Michael Cole on PBP. Dammit. Mick Foley is his partner on commentary. I want to make clear that it’s wonderful that WWE archived this live show and then dug it out and made it available for future viewers. Having to endure Michael Cole is a small price to pay for being able to watch this preserved bit of wrestling history. Match: Vince McMahon is doing the ring announcing himself on this show; Cole notes that Howard Finkel had an out-date for Crockett and couldn’t be at this show. Vince introduces the combatants for our first bout, which pits Jose Estrada against Angel Maravilla. Cole and Foley actually share some helpful history about the regionality of the company and the demographic makeup of New York at the time as both men test each other with early holds and reversals. They also comment on how far the corporatization of the company has come since the WWF went national. Estrada works a side headlock while Foley and Cole discuss the slower pacing at the time, which I much prefer as opposed to dudes running around the ring doing move after move after move until I just don’t give a fuck about your moves anymore, please take some time to stall or beg off or do something. Maravilla hits Estrada with a dropkick as the pace picks up; Estrada takes a nice bump over the top rope and to the apron, which scatters the ringside photographers. A Maravilla back body drop gets two, but Estrada jumps on Maravilla after kicking out with punches and boots to take over, then hits Maravilla with a Hot Shot out of a fireman’s carry and celebrates. Foley tells a story about Edge almost paralyzing Estrada’s son in Edge’s first match; I suppose that it's inevitable that Edge then moved on to almost paralyzing himself with all those TLC matches and spears. This match is a solid opener, by the way. Estrada whiffs on a Boss Man Splash against the ropes; he blunts Maravilla’s initial comeback off that mistake, but when he shoots Maravilla in, Maravilla leapfrogs him and catches him with a diving headbutt on the rebound for a three count. I enjoyed this short appetizer for the rest of the night’s action. Match: Baron Mikel Scicluna is working Mick’s trainer Dominic Denucci. Of course, Mick notes the monster pop for Denucci before saying that he went on to train one of the greatest wrestlers of all time…Shane Douglas. Yes, I did guess the punchline before Mick actually said it. Foley gets Malta and Yalta mixed up while talking about the various ethnic enclaves across New York while Scicluna does his typical heeling. Denucci is fed up with Scicluna’s typical heeling and grounds Scicluna’s dick practically into mush with his boot as revenge. The crowd approves. This match is worked around Scicluna teasing that he’s got something in his trunks to use on Denucci, the ostentatious style of which Foley claims that he adapted for yanking Mr. Socko out of his pants twenty-odd years later. Apparently, the Italians need to be placed on the “foreigners with incredibly hard heads” anthropological chart that I’m making because Scicluna tries a headbutt, but he takes all the damage as Denucci stands there completely unbothered. Denucci soon after hops over Scicluna and manages a sunset flip for three. This was not good, but I mean, you’re watching a Baron Scicluna match. In my experience, you shouldn’t expect something good. Match: Chavo Guerrero Sr. versus Tatsumi Fujinami for the WWF Junior Heavyweight Championship sounds like an incredible match, but hold on – now we’ve got a non-24/7 recording of this match with Vince McMahon on the call. Huh. OK. And now Finkel is here? Did he jet back from his JCP gig or was this added in post-production or what? Finkel (or a person who sounds just like him) is introducing the wrestlers as they open with standing switches and apply holds. As an aside, I checked, and JCP was running a show in Buffalo on this date with Ricky Steamboat and Jay Youngblood wrestling Jimmy Snuka and Ray Stevens on top. Why in the world was Crockett holding this show in Buffalo? As for this bout, it begins with a wonderful series of escapes and counters that leads to Guerrero managing a kneebar. Chavo attacks the knee, and Fujinami hobbles around when he gets back to standing, trying to shake off the damage. Vince mentions that Backlund has beaten Antonio Inoki before on commentary, which I need to look into, as Fujinami controls first the head and then the arm of Guerrero. I love a good lengthy opening where guys are testing one another, trying to chip away at the other guy’s stamina and constitution and hopefully jumping on the first mistake. Or, in the case of this match, deciding that it’s time to take some chances: Fujinami dropkicks Guerrero to the floor and then fires off a suicide dive (!!!). Guerrero gets control, sends Fujinami to the floor, and then fakes a suicide dive and lounges between the ropes just to show Fujinami up. Now that Guerrero has sated his desire to show Fujinami up for that suicide dive, he can go back to working on the knee, which he does with a surfboard before transitioning into an arm wringer as Fujinami shifts his weight to collapse the hold. Guerrero is doing some very good visual leverage stuff work to enhance these holds, by the way. All this seems to do is anger Fujinami, which every time I see him tends to be his general mood, and the champ fires back with strikes until Guerrero can trap him in the corner, do a showy backflip to enrage the champ into charging him, and then hit a back body drop for two. Guerrero works a scissorhold that doesn’t do much to stop Fujinami from getting to his feet and scoring an airplane hold that tumbles his gyros; the crowd laughs as Fujinami stumbles to the mat. He gets to his feet at the same time as Guerrero, and they both go for dropkicks and, rather than getting back up immediately and facing off while the crowd chants THIS IS WRESTLING, they sell damage from slamming the mat after the dual whiff as the crowd pops for the (not yet overdone) spot. How refreshing! Guerrero gets up and lands a hip check, but his follow-up senton splash misses, and the match explodes into a finish where Guerrero and Fujinami trade flash pinfalls; Fujinami kicks out, but Guerrero doesn’t. This was basically a spotfest, but it was a very good spotfest, as you’d expect from Fujinami and a Chavo Guerrero. Either one: senior, junior. They both absolutely rule at pro wrestling. I’d watch this again gladly, so I think that means that it’s good enough for the Hidden Midcard Gem list. Match: So, there’s a WWF World Martial Arts Heavyweight Championship, apparently, and I bet that it exists just for Antonio Inoki to win it from or successfully defend it against “Pretty Boy” Larry Sharpe here on this show. Let’s take a quick look at Wikipedia…and yep, it was a belt just for Inoki. It’s got an interesting lineage, having been traded back and forth between Inoki and a Georgian (the country, not the U.S. state) wrestler named Shota Chochisvili nine years after this event in a pair of worked shootfights before being deactivated. That’s pretty neat! Sharpe works this Martial Arts Heavyweight Championship match with pro wrestling kneebars and shit. I’m not sure what’s particularly martial arts-y about this match, but since the belt was an Inoki vanity belt anyway, I’m not sure that it matters one whit. Dudes are out here shooting the half and throwing hip tosses, and that’s fine with me! This match is a dull but inoffensive affair for the most part, except for the parts where Inoki kicks the hell out of Sharpe’s legs. Actually, I do think that there’s a leg grapevine spit in here that is well-worked on both men’s parts as Inoki attempts to gain leverage on Sharpe as the latter resists. Sharpe sells a hamstring injury after that spot, but it doesn’t matter because Inoki moves out of the way of a Sharpe dive and hits him with two Ghetto Blasters for three. What sort of -giri is that type of kick? I know an enzuigiri is a kick to the back of the head while someone is holding one’s foot, but what is a straight leaping hook kick like that called? Match: Michael Cole and Mick Foley are suddenly back on this pieced-together version of this show to discuss this two-of-three falls WWF World Tag Team Championship match between the champion Wild Samoans (w/Captain Lou Albano) and the challengers Bob Backlund and Pedro Morales, a superteam if ever there were one. Let me guess: The team of two WW(W)F World Champions beats the long-term tag team in this one? It’s an ingrained part of the house booking philosophy. Afa stalks Morales to start this bout, intermittently collar-and-elbowing him and breaking it until the point at which he breaks it and swings at Morales’s noggin; Morales ducks and Afa strikes Sika, who's standing on the apron. Whoopsie! Afa and Morales collar-and-elbow again; Afa shoves hard toward Morales, who suddenly drops the tie-up and moves out of the way. Afa is still shoving forward and runs right into Sika on the apron. Heh heh. I liked this opening tangle, which indicates that Morales is cleverer than his opponents. Backlund instead shows off his strength and agility by lifting Afa onto the top rope out of a front facelock and then dodging the angry Afa’s charges toward him. Afa slows it down, then lifts Backlund onto the top rope, where Backlund casually slaps him around from his seated position up there, then jumps down and does it some more to Afa. Afa sports the look of a man who has realized that he may be slightly overmatched, which of course is the natural WWF-ized state of an experienced tag wrestler in a tag match working against a top-level singles wrestler who usually doesn’t wrestle tags in this company. Even when Afa and Sika double up on Morales, they can’t keep control for very long. They next jump Backlund after the latter tags in and have a bit more success with – you guessed it – a nerve hold! Foley and Cole try to put the nerve hold over as exciting. Nice try, fellas, but I ain't buying what you're selling. Backlund fights out of it, but he can’t make a hot tag and is currently incarcerated in FIP jail. Even Albano gets in his pops from outside the rig while Backlund is trapped in the opposition corner. Afa misses a second-rope falling headbutt, however, and that allows Backlund to make the hot tag to Morales. The match breaks down; the Samoans gets sent into one another before Backlund and Morales combine on an atomic drop and rollup to win the first fall [The Wild Samoans 0 – 1 Backlund and Morales]. Cole is excited to point out that Vince McMahon is going to make a mistake that was captured on tape when he attempts to announce Backlund and Morales as the winners even though it’s a two-out-of-three falls bout. Now, this match was initially announced that way, but Vince covers his mistake by saying that the ref has suddenly decided to make it two-out-of-three falls, which causes the fans to chant BULLSHIT even though this match has always had that stip. Foley: “If Vince is the one who makes the mistake, who is there to yell at Vince?” Foley then fervently wishes that he could have been the guy to yell at Vince. You’d have to get in line, Foley. So, before the next fall starts, all four men fight in the infield and the NYPD cart Albano off for his various indiscretions, so that was pretty wild! This match is pure fun. Backlund almost wins it with a piledriver on Sika; Afa makes the save, but he can’t save Sika when Morales dropkicks Sika in the solar plexus while Sika’s preparing to drop Backlund with a Samoan Drop. Backlund falls on top of Sika as Sika drops to the mat stunned and presses laterally for the three count and the titles which they would be stripped of since Backlund already held the world title [The Wild Samoans 0 – 2 Backlund and Morales]. Did they show this title change on TV or was it just for the crowd at this major show? The match itself was unsurprisingly awesome and a definite gem. Match: Back to the Vince-called version of the show: Pat Patterson bumps around like a lunatic for Tor Kamata, who jumps Pat before the bell, but Patterson moves out of the way of a top-rope splash and then lands his own top-rope kneedrop for two before ripping his jacket off and firing up. Patterson lands knees and chokes and looping rights at Kamata. When the ref backs off Patterson, Kamata loads his hand with salt and then wings it at Patterson as the latter advances again. Patterson ducks and the ref takes the salt square in his eyes. I think I hear a ring bell to call for the end of the bout, but the ref makes a count before realizing that he should just DQ Kamata. These fellas went at pace because they were only working three-ish minutes, so it was a fun little blur of a bout. Match: The Fabulous Moolah and her partner Beverly Shade wrestle a one-fall match against Peggy Lee and Kandi Malloy. This match is a reminder of how hard women had to fight so that they'd get to have good matches on major shows rather than shitty matches that rely on a billion hair beals. Also, commentary talks about how the ladies are super-emotional compared to men when they’re in the ring, which is an argument that doesn’t even work in kayfabe for pro wrestling considering that the whole point of the exercise is to project base human emotions to a crowd via hyperbole. The commentary on this segment sucks, and the match also isn’t any good, but it’s not so bad that I’m going to pan it or put it on a bad list. It’s just par for the course when it comes to women’s wrestling in the United States around this time. Malloy gets trapped in FIP-land, but she scoots between Shade’s legs to get a hot tag that sort of peters out. The babyfaces do a dual leg grapevine spot to punish the heels, but Moolah makes a shitty comeback because she’s not a very good pro wrestler and wins with a back body drop on Lee. Match: Holy shit, now we’ve got a sudden appearance of Gene Okerlund and Gorilla Monsoon calling this Tony Atlas vs. Ken Patera (w/Grand Wizard of Wrestling) match for the WWF Intercontinental Championship (of which Patera is the holder). I’m blessed to have this full show, I suppose, considering that it had to be cut together from all these different sources. Patera/Atlas is not an inspiring matchup to say the least. I’m hoping to be pleasantly surprised. When would Okerlund and Monsoon have recorded commentary for this match? They weren’t in the same company before 1984 or after 1993, so it has to be in that range, but I can't imagine the Golden Era WWF pretending that whatever was going on in 1980 was even the same company as the slick, colorful WWF of 1987 or whatever. What was this even recorded for? Did they do a Coliseum Video release with old matches in the '90s, when it was more understandable that they'd start to tread on nostalgia and company history? Atlas controls Patera to cheers as the start of this match; the crowd is trying to will a title change, but Patera takes over with a quick knee. However, he gets pressed into he ropes when Atlas kicks out of his lateral cover after an elbow. Patera is poor on pro graps-specific race relations because he tries to headbutt Atlas twice, and as all pro wrestling fans know, black people have heads like coconuts. Educate yourself, Patera! This leads to Atlas winning a headbutt of his own and generally dominating Patera, who has to finagle a front facelock over the top rope as he stands on the apron. Patera scores a diving stomp, and this match is about what you’d expect in that it’s mediocre. After Patera manages a press slam, he goes for the kill with a full nelson, but Atlas makes the ropes and summarily makes a comeback with all manner of punches. Atlas’s vertical suplex only earns two; his sleeper hold is cinched in the middle of the ring, but Patera stumbles forward and hangs Atlas up on the top rope to break it. Patera is up first, his control briefly interrupted by an Atlas counter-crossbody for two. Patera stomps Atlas out of the infield, where they fight before both getting onto the apron. In a bad finish, Patera lands a looping right that knocks Atlas back into the ring on the count of nine. The ref then counts Patera out for still being on the apron. What a crappy way to work a count out. Patera continues to stomp away on Atlas until Atlas fires up and scares him off. After the match, Atlas grabs at mic and challenges Patera to another fight just for kicks, but Patera eventually begs off. Bleh. Match: Ivan Putski and Johnny Rodz wrestle a thankfully brief match that would have signaled, were I alive at the time and a viewer in the live audience, a chance to hit the urinals and then maybe grab a hot dog and a program before the next bout. Foley informs us that Rodz is to blame for Tommy Dreamer being a pro wrestler. BOO THIS HEEL! Rodz jumps Putski, who fights back and, as Putski generally does, pretty much stinks at being an entertaining pro grappler. I’ll give Rodz this: I enjoy his legdrop. It’s a pretty good legdrop. Michael Cole absolutely fucking sucks at every aspect of his job that relies on him communicating info to viewers. He’s not funny, he’s not good at calling action, and he’s not good at banter. The guy is a New Yorker who grew up watching WW(W)F wrestling. Why isn’t Cole at least pretty good at this? He’s been just about approaching mediocrity at commentary for his whole career dating back to 1997 or whatever. He never got better. He never got worse. He just stayed mildly shitty, but ultimately bearable enough at delivering commentary and interviewing wrestlers for over a quarter-century. I digress; Rodz misses a splash and receives a clubberin’ and a Polish Hammer, all of which precedes a Putski cover to win a three count. Match: Rene Goulet wrestles the Hangman in a match between French Canadians who probably worked Montreal and the Maritimes together. I’ve seen a little bit of Montreal and enjoyed it enough that I’m eventually going to circle back and dig into it. This is the final match before tonight’s double-main event, and it exists as a match that we can confirm has happened in the historical record because it has been taped for posterity. If it were longer, it would go on a bad list. Foley is also on this recording, and he questions the card layout, which is exactly what I was just going to write about. Ths match shouldn’t be right next to Putski/Rodz. That’s over thirteen minutes of cooldown after an IC title match that sort of stunk. Vince should have at the very least swapped the tag team and IC title matches because you could better justify thirteen minutes of cooldown after that extremely hot (and extremely entertaining) tag title match. This match is so dull that it feels as though it goes double the amount of time it actually does, though. What’s worse is that Cole is boring and Foley’s riffing generally sucks during this match. The Hangman finally wins with a press slam that dumps Goulet throat-first onto the top rope. Not abjectly terrible, but easily the worst part of this card. Let’s move it along… Match: …to Hulk Hogan (w/Classy Freddie Blassie) against Andre the Giant in a match that this crowd is smoking hot for. Just Hogan and Blassie walking out heats these fans way the hell up. Andre soon follows. Blassie and Hogan are dressed in finery that is the same exact shade of color as Hogan’s flaxen, thinning hair. It’s pretty fantastic. Hogan left the WWF in a short time after this as a heel, right? So why did WWF fans just accept him as a babyface when he returned in 1983? I actually haven’t seen the TV from the end of 1982/beginning of 1983. Was Hogan babyfaced by his part in Rocky III? Did most WWF fans know about his heroic exploits in the AWA even though it was outside of their territory? Or is Hogan just kind of popular already in 1980 and these fans would cheer him in a hot second if they could? The tenor of tonight’s crowd at Shea suggests that at least some of that third effect is real, though they of course love Andre far more and cheer wildly when he sends Hogan sprawling out of a collar-and-elbow. Andre and Hogan have a good match where they don’t do much because they don’t have to. Hogan working a headlock and having Andre rear back and lift Hogan off the ground without using his arms is a cool strongman spot and costs them both very little. They have two stalemates on shoulderblock wars and then stare each other down. Again, this costs very little from a physical standpoint, but it’s entertaining to watch. I anticipate the outcome of their third shoulderblock war. Andre works a surfboard variant; Hogan works a bearhug variant. I just don’t buy shorter guys working bearhugs against taller guys, even if the shorter guy is very wide (as Bam Bam Bigelow was when he’d work his bearhugs). Wait, hold on, Yokozuna did work a really good bearhug against Hogan at King of the Ring ’93, but generally, I don’t buy it. I only want to see a bearhug when a superheavyweight is ragdolling a normal heavyweight (or lighter). This crowd goes apeshit when Andre breaks the bearhug and then pops huge again when Andre vertically suplexes Hogan, who spilled to the floor when he lost his grip on the bearhug, back into the ring. Andre attempts to kill the match off with a big splash, but Hogan dodges it and goes back on the attack, though Andre blocks one of his punches and transitions into a hammerlock. Hogan tries to slam his way out of it, can’t, tries again, can’t, and then is slammed by Andre in turn. Alas, Andre swings Hogan’s legs into the trailing ref’s face, and we get a ref bump. Hogan attacks Andre as Andre checks on the ref and then tears every muscle in his back when he slams Andre. Hogan covers, but there’s no ref, and Andre quickly recovers, slams Hogan, and leaps on him to win the match with a quick three count that Hogan visually kicks out of at 2.8 anyway, but the crowd pops all the same. Hogan belts a bloodied Andre with his loaded elbowpad after the match just to get the point across that he was the real winner. This was pretty good stuff. Andre didn’t carry Hogan, but he was certainly the better and more interesting wrestler in this one. Match: Larry Zbyszko (w/full head of hair) tangles with his former mentor Bruno Sammartino (also w/full head of hair) in the confines of a steel cage! Bruno immediately jumps on Larry Z. and stomps the shit out of that ingrate. Bruno not only uses his boots and fists but the very hardware surrounding the ring itself to attack his once protégé, who only gets a bit of space to breathe when he punches Bruno right in the dick. Larry Z. manages to get to his feet and land a series of receipt stomps before trying to win by exiting the cage via the door, which makes perfect sense for him if he just wants to get out of here with a victory and his health. I could see Larry Z. working a “too smart to get my ass kicked in this dangerous cage” angle for this match. Ad of course, inside a cage, it’s impossible to commit to Larry Z.’s favorite strategy, which is wandering around outside the ring and stalling, so it makes sense that he’d focus on escaping while Bruno focuses on beating the shit out of Larry Z. and then strolling out of the cage, point made. Bruno makes a comeback and attempts to throttle Larry Z. Larry, of course, keeps trying to wriggle away and then escape, which generally causes him to be caught and tossed while attempting to scale the cage. It’s a decent little bout because the logic of Larry Z. being the only one trying to escape makes sense. After being tossed from the top of the cage twice, Larry realizes that maybe he needs to spend more energy on beating down his opponent, so he throws a array of punches at Bruno’s right bicep and tosses Bruno shoulder-first into the buckles. He puts in a ton of work to damage Bruno’s arm! That still doesn’t stop Bruno from yanking him backward once, then twice when he tries to casually walk out of the cage door. After that second attempt, Bruno is able to follow up with buckle bonks and then a straight-up ringpost bonk that knocks Larry Z. loopy. Bruno continues wreaking his vengeance on Larry Z., bashing him into the cage multiple times and booting him in the temple before deciding that he’s made his point and strolling out of the cage door as a woozy Zbyszko tries to pursue. Larry Z. points out that he bloodied Bruno’s shoulder through that targeted attack and staggers up to Bruno to point it out, but Bruno smacks him in the jaw and walks away as the victor. This was alright, man! It’s not a great cage match to remember, but it told its story well and had good character work from both men. This was a neat show both in general and for giving me more historical perspective, especially since I’m going through a lot of 1978-1981 WW(W)F television right now (and will be watching a lot of '82 and '83 over the summer). I enjoyed the show for what it was, and though I could certainly critique it for having a number of very short matches and a questionable match order, only Chavo/Fujinami and Samoans/Backlund and Morales really could have benefited from even more time, and the match order didn't have a deleterious effect on my enjoyment. 2.75 Digital Snowflakes out of 5.

This match rules, especially Dusty's shine segment. Wrapping Tully's knee around the railing was a great spot, and Magnum selling the cane swing by ostentatiously scooting away from the incident after casually taking his cane back was excellent. Of course, the finish was poop, but that's par for the course in JCP/WCW.

Jarrett claiming that he wanted to do a Southern-coded wrestling promotion and then bringing in Vince Russo to write television is quite the choice. I think TNA (or something like it) has a chance to take off in 2002 if it is actually WCW-before-1995 coded. That means getting the funding to bring in Ric Flair and it means getting some old heads from the Carolinas or Florida to heavily influence your writing. I'm listening to the BtS series on TNA getting cancelled by Spike, and the dirt sheets reported that CMT was sniffing around them before they ended up with Destination America. That should have been the medium-term target all along for TNA. Rather than trying to compete with WWE, they needed to go where WWE wasn't going. There was a short window of time to pick up all those lapsed fans of JCP/WCW. Jarrett claimed on this episode to be targeting them. Then he just kept doing late-stage Russo WCW shit. I understand why his dad wanted out when Jeff completely ignored the large demographic they had initially agreed to target.

I believe you're mistaken. There is only one Parasite Eve game.

WWF Survivor Series ‘94 (23 November 1994): A show in which a certain tone for 1995 WWF is set I’ve been watching through WWF Superstars in 1995 and am into about March of 1996, so suffice it to say that I’ll be glad to review something else from some other company after this. Actually, having watched these ’95 Superstars shows, the issue in the company is everything but the work in the ring, which mostly ranges from “fine” to “pretty good, actually.” I probably could write a whole separate thread about the WWF from the last quarter of 1995 through WrestleMania XIV. By January of 1996, Superstars begins with a warning about the content (sometimes delivered in sultry tones by a string-bikini’d Sunny) and then goes into its incredibly goofy, earworm-y, completely New Generation-y theme (WEEEELLL, DIESEL’S COOL, UNDERTAKER/SHAWN MICHAELS, HEARTBREAKER/BRET HART, SHOW ‘EM HOW/UH-OH, HERE COMES VADER NOW). For another example, Razor Ramon ends up having a feud with Goldust in which Goldust preys on Razor’s - and the crowd’s - homophobia (and also rubs his nips a lot because that’s what Goldust does) before re-transitioning into his long-running feud with the 1-2-3 Kid in which the loser must wear a diaper and cry while drinking from a giant comic baby bottle. Suffice it to say that these shows swing violently back and forth between goofiness and Springer-like trashiness in a way that is fascinating and hard to look away from, the pro wrestling equivalent of a seven-car pileup. If there wasn’t already an ongoing thread elsewhere on this board that was about to jump into that period of time, I’d stop right here and figure out how to attack that set of WWF shows in my own project. Alas, we’re still here in 1994 for the final Big Five PPV of the year before I go watch some ECW to see trashy Springer-like content done right or maybe some ‘80s WCW or even ‘80s AWA to take a little break from the ‘90s, a decade that I dearly love, warts and all, but that sometimes got to be a little much when it came to pro wrestling. Gab Gab Gab: Shawn Michaels doesn’t so much as rally his Survivor Series team as he commands them. He also uses the word “y’all’s,” clearly feeling his oats at home tonight in San Antonio. We also see Razor Ramon, Lex Luger, Ted DiBiase, Doink the Clown, and Jerry Lawler speechifying to get their teams focused for the night’s traditional Survivor Series matches. Charmingly goofy WWF PPV opening: This hideous CGI of what looks like Arizona plains and cacti is also charmingly goofy. Remember Reboot? Well this looks worse than Reboot, but in 1994, you’d have been suitably impressed. I hope that if there’s an afterlife when I die, I get to relive the 1990s except this time as an adult making a good living in that afterlife. And I hope that some of you can eventually join me there to watch ECW television and then play some Panasonic 3DO while sipping on a Fruitopia and listening to the newest Bone Thugs joint. Gab Gab Gab: Tonight’s commentary team is Vince McMahon and Gorilla Monsoon. Monsoon talks about how a bunch of people holed up in the Alamo died while trying to steal Texas from the rest of Mexico, but he talks about it in way loftier terms than I just did. Our matches tonight: Bret Hart versus Bob Backlund for the WWF World Championship, a number of traditional multi-man elimination Survivor Series matches, and the Undertaker versus Yokozuna in a Casket Match rematch from this year’s Royal Rumble, though Chuck Norris will be out there to go all Walker, Texas Ranger on any heels who try to jump in on the match this time around. Match: The brown note of a truck horn plays over and over while Diesel leads out his Survivor Series team, the Teamsters: Diesel, Shawn Michaels, Owen Hart, Jim Neidhart, and Jeff Jarrett. Yeah, of course a unionizing force would provide the name for the heels in Vince McMahon’s company. Michaels hops in front of Diesel halfway down the aisle to establish to us that actually, he’s the leader, dammit! I foresee issues in that friendship. Their opponents, led by Razor Ramon, are the Bad Guys: Razor, the 1-2-3 Kid, the British Bulldog, and the Headshrinkers. Samu has left the company and the Barbarian (going by the name Sionne) has replaced him alongside Fatu, who isn’t too long for this gimmick anyway because he’s going to switch it up and Make a Difference in a few months. So is Diesel a trucker or a biker? He dresses like an approximation of a biker, but his entrance is all truck iconography. You know what, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s only a few days away from becoming the WWF World Champion, a title reign that I’m pretty certain failed because Vince McMahon booked it into the ground more than for anything Kevin Nash did or didn’t do. Michaels is pretty funny; he is determined to be the middle management for his team, directing traffic and refusing to dirty his hands with starting off against either the 1-2-3 Kid or Razor Ramon. Fatu is working a gimmick where he doesn’t understand how to fit wrestling boots after spending so much of the past few years working barefoot, which is way less charming than this “loudmouthed megalomaniac who needs to feel in total control” gimmick that Michaels is working. You look at this match, and there’s so much good talent in it, and also Jim Neidhart is there. Kid and Jarrett have a fun opening that Kid wins; Kid tags in Sionne, who hits a big press slam. I feel that whatever Memphis-y influence Jerry Jarrett had as a consultant slammed full force into Vince’s puerile instincts and created something about as noxious as Vince Russo and Jeff Jarrett’s nu-Memphis storytelling attempts in late-era WCW or early-era TNA, but the wrestling on these mid-‘90s WWF shows is good enough that we merely think of this era as a down era where Titan took the water coolers out of the main offices instead of a company-killing era. I mean, there’s a sequence where Bulldog and Owen counter and counter and counter until Bulldog slingshots Owen into the babyface corner; Owen eats punches from the babyfaces and then stumbles into a Bulldog press slam that gets a huge pop. That’s just a fun sequence, you know? Then Fatu tags in and loses control of the match because he hates wearing boots like a civilized human being or whatever, and there’s that backwards “ha ha, he’s such a savage” thinking from Vince et al. Why not get Slick out here to help Captain Lou Albano teach Fatu how to bowl, huh? Or failing that, why not just drop this stupid gimmick entirely? Meanwhile, Shawn Michaels is doggedly refusing to tag in, instead chattering on and on like some kind of head coach, dishing out directions and encouragement to his compatriots, not that this keeps Jeff Jarrett from getting cleared out by a Razor clothesline. Shawn calms everyone down, but Jarrett gets caught and hit with a fallaway slam when he re-enters the ring; Razor then tags in Kid and fallaway slams his partner right into Jarrett. Jarrett does manage to trap Kid in an abdominal stretch, which slows down the babyface assault; the Kid manages to reverse it, but Jarrett counters by hip tossing Kid to the floor. They work a couple of counters in which Kid’s final kick completely misses Jarrett’s forehead, but the camera shot doesn’t hide it at all. I mean, boy was there a huge gap between that boot and Jarrett’s forehead. Then after Fatu tags in, Nash doesn’t come close to making contact with Fatu’s head on a lariat that Fatu does his patented spinning bump for. Despite the broken illusion, Diesel follows with a quick Jackknife for three [The Bad Guys 4 – 5 The Teamsters]. Kid jumps in and hits a flurry of offense on Diesel – he almost gets him with a diving sunset flip – but Diesel survives and hits another Jackknife for three [The Bad Guys 3 – 5 The Teamsters]. Sionne hops in the ring, and it’s the same song, different verse; Diesel catches Sionne on a duckdown and pops off a quick Jackknife for another pinfall [The Bad Guys 2 – 5 The Teamsters]. Boy, that Diesel sure looks like he could win the world title by popping off a quick Jackknife! If only he could get the chance, huh? Anyway, after eliminating three dudes, Diesel understandably would like to tag out and maybe rest for a bit. I mean, the big guy’s earned it! He tries to tag HBK, who is so jealous, what a jealous BABY, that he refuses to make the tag, instead trying to coach Diesel through the next sequence. Jarrett and Owen beat up the Bulldog outside the ring while this is going on. Anyway, Razor hops into the ring and tries to catch a flash roll-up on Diesel after Bulldog, who was the legal man, gets counted out (which Vince McMahon has to tell us, but why didn’t the ref DQ Owen and Jarrett for obstructing Bulldog from re-entering the ring?), but that doesn’t work [The Bad Guys 1 – 5 The Teamsters]. Diesel gains control; Michaels demands a Jackknife from his spot on the apron, but Diesel chooses to score a Snake Eyes instead. Michaels keeps yapping at Diesel, demanding another Snake Eyes or a Jackknife or something, and Razor hops out of a second Snake Eyes attempt and makes a short comeback that is blunted when Diesel backdrops his way out of a Razor’s Edge. Diesel manages to get to his feet and land a Jackknife, which is when Shawn wants the tag. Diesel tags Shawn, who then demands that Diesel get back in the ring and hold Razor up for some Sweet Chin Music. The wearied, annoyed look on Nash’s face is pretty funny, but he agrees to Michaels's plan…and gets kicked in the chops when Razor manages to move. Michaels screams at Diesel for being a fuck-up, which is when Diesel finally snaps and gets in Michaels’s face. He shoves the other heels away and pursues Shawn up the aisle, punching Jarrett and the Anvil and Owen as he stalks Shawn. The referee just, um, counts all of the heels out at once, I think [The Bad Guys 1 – 0 The Teamsters]. This was effective in the sense that the Diesel babyface turn worked well, and this was effective in the sense that the wrestling ruled, but some of the refereeing conceits to get them there weren’t particularly well-conceived. That’s small beer in terms of complaints, though. This was a solid opener, and the crowd was hot for the match and for Diesel’s turn. Interview time [w/Todd Pettengill]: Shawn Michaels gives an interview while hustling double-time to get his bags out to his car so that he can take off and maybe go hide at home or in the food court of the Windsor Park Mall before Diesel can get to him. Michaels tosses his tag title away, declares their duo finished, and then peels off. Michaels alternately bitching about Diesel’s ungratefulness and imploring Pettengill to walk quicker so that Diesel doesn’t catch up to them was very funny! Gab Gab Gab: Vince and Gorilla discuss what just happened over a replay of the wayward Sweet Chin Music that ended the partnership between the Two Dudes With Attitudes…for now. Match: The Royal Family (Jerry Lawler leading his little person retinue of Sleazy, Queasy, and Cheesy) come to the ring to face Clowns ‘R Us (Doink leading his own team of little people: Dink, Pink, and Wink). Yeah, I’m not looking forward to this one. Diesel’s on the WWF Hotline complaining about Shawn Michaels kicking him in the face because Shawn made it safely out of the parking lot. Note: Lawler and Doink must wrestle one another if one tags in; the minis can only face other minis. I just watched a 1996 Superstars in which Lawler wrestled an underneath guy while commentating his own match, and it was well-done wrestling comedy that got the crowd behind the unknown babyface. This, on the other hand, sucks. For example, there’s a spot where Doink’s got Lawler laid out in an armbar and Doink’s minis run across Lawler’s gut, and then Lawler’s own guys chase them away by running across his gut, and then just to make the gag go on a beat too long, they once again run across Lawler’s gut to get back to their corner after chasing the mini clowns away. Then they do the spot in reverse, but Doink trips the heel minis. I remember seeing this as a kid and hoping my parents didn’t come into the room during this match so I didn’t have to hear about how dumb pro wrestling is. I like in-ring comedy, but it has to be, you know, good. Vince’s annoying HYUCK HYUCKing isn’t helping. The crowd kind of enjoys this, though. I’m not judging them, but I am disagreeing with them. I think the other issue is that while I, like any kid, enjoyed my share of crappy programming, I also was at least somewhat discerning. I don’t think that six-year-old me would have enjoyed this, either, so I can’t really defend it from that perspective. I can credit the idea behind one of the minis getting on Doink’s shoulders to fight, so Lawler, who would never deign to hoist anyone on his shoulders, decides to instead get on one of his mini’s shoulders to match. However, the execution is subpar even for a “six-year-olds should enjoy these comic antics” sort of way. Then again, Bugs Bunny jamming carrots into Elmer Fudd’s double-barreled shotgun so that it backfires on him is still hilarious to me, so who the hell am I to critique what people find funny? Lawler reverses a springboard crossbody from Doink and pulls the tights to sneak a three count [Clowns ‘R Us 3 – 4 The Royal Family], so how can the heels possibly lose if Lawler can only wrestle Doink? That’s essentially a match-ender. Gorilla points this out multiple times on commentary and Vince ignores him, so probably I should ignore this issue as well because it won’t matter in the context of this match. Lawler helps Queasy out of a jam from his spot on the apron by holding him back from taking a Wink monkey flip; Queasy flops on top and Lawler gives him leverage for three [Clowns ‘R Us 2 – 4 The Royal Family]. Lawler then assists Cheesy by pressing him onto Pink for another pinfall [Clowns ‘R Us 1 – 4 The Royal Family]. Boy, there are a whole lot of dominant heel eliminations in these first two matches. Pink hides under the ring after being eliminated. Lawler hops in the ring to distract the ref when Dink lands a flying crossbody on Sleazy or whatever, and Queasy or whomever flips the leverage, and that’s our final elimination, mercifully [Clowns ‘R Us 0 – 4 The Royal Family]. Lawler rightfully points out that he pretty much engineered this total victory to the minis on his team and tells them to stop celebrating since he did most of the work. The minis want to celebrate, so Lawler kicks them out of the ring - “I hate short people” – but they celebrate outside the ring. Lawler is disgusted that these minis would continue to dare taking credit for all his hard work, so he chases them into the aisle, where the clown minis pop out from under the apron and help surround him. Lawler runs away and backs up the aisle, where he turns around right into a pumpkin pie to the face from Doink. OK, that’s enough time spent on this segment! Man, could I go for a slice of pumpkin pie, though. Interview time [w/Todd Pettengill]: Let’s be real: Todd Pettengill’s fake laugh is even worse than Vince’s. He performs some bad wordplay in reference to the previous pie incident and then informs us that Alundra Blayze (w/trashy Harley + giant American flag combo) got her ass whipped by Bull Nakano in Japan a week before this show and lost the WWF Women’s Championship in the bargain. Nakano is here, and she responds to Todd’s questions in Japanese. Pettengill, who is a complete fucking idiot, repeats his questions LOUDER BECAUSE WE ALL KNOW THAT IF SOMEONE ISN’T FLUENT IN A LANGUAGE, THEY WILL UNDERSTAND YOU PERFECTLY IF YOU REPEAT WHAT YOU SAID IN A RAISED VOICE. I hope that Bull rips that bolo tie from around Pettengill’s neck and stuffs it down his fucking throat, but no dice. She continues to answer in Japanese, which is such a pretty language in my opinion. Prettiest languages to listen to, in no particular order: Japanese, French, Vietnamese, and English if a Scottish or Irish person is speaking it. Match: Well, the WWF World Championship match being third on the card should clue you in to the likely finish: former WWF World Champion Bob Backlund (w/Owen Hart) meets current WWF World Champion Bret Hart (w/Davey Boy Smith) in a Submission Match for said world championship. Bret is very over, probably much to Vince’s chagrin. This match can only end by towel toss-in. Of course, Owen is the designated towel man for Backlund and Davey Boy fits that same role for Bret, so I don’t see any way for this match to end without the designated towel holder for either guy tossing it int—oh, why bother; you already know how this ends. I remember being aggrieved about this match as a kid; namely, I thought that it was insane that Bret didn’t wipe the floor with Backlund in about five minutes and didn’t buy almost anything that happened in this bout. As an older and wiser wrestling fan, I’ve seen Backlund wrestle, and I know that he was quite good. I also understand the need to transition the title from babyface Bret to babyface Diesel via a middleman. Further, I do find the match stip to be a neat little callback to Backlund losing his WWF Championship to the Iron Sheik by a towel toss; it frames this stipulation as indicative of Backlund’s long obsession with the nature of that loss even more than with the loss itself. However, I watch this match now and still think Backlund takes too much of it. There are good things about this, largely that Backlund knows that he’s got a death hold in the Crossface Chicken Wing and is attempting to snap it on as soon as possible because it’ll be a long night for him otherwise. Backlund keeps going for it and Bret keeps countering before he can lock it in. I think Backlund gets too much of the match in the middle, even though he does a solid job of working Bret’s arm to set him up for his big hold. Ultimately, this match is objectively good and broadly achieves its goals, so I can’t call it bad, but it still leaves me cold. Backlund loses control of the match and has to scramble to try and avoid the Sharpshooter. He can’t avoid a Figure Four in the center of the ring, though. Bret basically gets a visual win by having Backlund gesture toward Owen to toss in the towel and then falling backward and having his shoulders to the mat for three. Backlund then tries to turn the hold, and they do some good work in struggling within the hold. Owen stridently refuses to throw in the towel, and Backlund’s ankle really should be kayfabe snapped at this point, but he manages to turn the hold before it gets turned again and Backlund has to squirm for the ropes. Bret continues to attack Backlund’s leg; he trips Backlund and feigns that he’s going to drop an elbow before trying to transition into a Sharpshooter, but Backlund makes the ropes before he can snap it on. The Hitman doing the little things can make any match pop. This is why the very depressed Hitman in late 1998 was so disappointingly un-Hitman-like. For obvious reasons related to his personal and professional life, he was just going through the motions. Backlund’s ankle is okay enough to reverse the momentum with a facecrusher and then a piledriver, and as this match goes on, Bret just looks weaker for not being able to handle Backlund by now. I get that he’s got to set him up for a Sharpshooter, but Diesel is going to clatter this guy in about ten seconds a few days from now. I think Diesel’s reign got off to a poor start with me as a kid because I was so pissed that Bret somehow lost to Backlund after a long match, but Diesel won the belt in ten seconds. I never got behind Diesel as champ, not really. I wanted Bret to be champ the whole time. It wasn’t until Diesel turned heel again that I felt like I could get behind him (and of course, when he showed up in WCW as an Outsider, I was totally on board). It’s funny about Nash that he was world champ in the WWF when I wanted someone else to be champion, but in WCW, I was irritated that Hogan was the world champion centerpiece of the nWo and not Nash or Hall, and by the time Nash did win it, I thought that Goldberg still should have been champ. He never was the headliner at a time when I was ready for him to be. So, Owen manages to break up a Bret Sharpshooter with a bulldog behind the ref’s back; Owen then trips Davey Boy as Bulldog chases him and Bulldog knocks himself out on the steps. Owen pretends that he gives a shit about Davey; meanwhile, Bret gets to his feet and calls Owen a SONNUVABITCH, which isn’t very thoughtful since he and Owen share the same mother, and Backlund sneaks up and puts Bret in the Crossface Chicken Wing. Owen goes into histrionics over Bulldog and then Bret, pleading with mother Helen to throw in the towel to save Bret. She does despite Stu’s attempts to let his son tough it out; Owen celebrates his screwjob of Bret as Bob Backlund is presented the WWF World Championship. All that stuff I just described went on way too long. People hit the steps head first every day and are countering their opponents a couple moves later, but Bulldog was out for like eight minutes? As it occurred, Vince was claiming that Bret could just quit himself, but no, that goes against both the rules that you claimed at the start of the match and the fact that Backlund quit while in the Figure Four but was still in the match since Owen wouldn’t throw in the towel. Then again, Helen threw in the towel for Bret, so do any of these stips really matter? I must say, however, that I appreciate Backlund gazing at his hands as if in a thrall, as though he has finally realized the power that resides in his big finisher before he is handed the title. You’d think that two mat mechanics like the Hitman and Backlund would have more chemistry. At least this match is solid; their WrestleMania XI rematch is (as I recall) very bad, for which I mostly blame Roddy Piper, actually, but that’s for a future post. Backlund’s character work is the best thing on this show: He is shrieking YEAH YEAHHHHHHHH and eye-fucking his own hands while wearing the title. This is some top-level lunacy, let me tell you. I’ve seen quite a bit of ‘80s babyface Backlund lately, and he is boring as fuck on promos, so I don’t know where any of this came from, but I’m impressed that he found this sort of performance within him. Interview time [w/Todd Pettengill]: Owen is thrilled that at the very least, if he can’t be the WWF World Champion, at least big bro Bret isn’t anymore. He also points out that since he’s still the current reigning King of the Ring and Bret doesn’t have a belt anymore, he must be the better brother. Unassailable heel logic there, Owen! Gab Gab Gab: Gorilla and Vince are bummed about Owen’s behavior. Gorilla: “A lot of fans crying right now in this arena.” Camera shot: Fans happily waving at the camera. I love you, late-1994 WWF. I truly do. Match: Ted DiBiase’s Million Dollar Team (Bam Bam Bigelow, Tatanka, King Kong Bundy, and the Heavenly Bodies) wrestle Guts and Glory (Lex Luger, Adam Bomb, Mabel, and the Smoking Gunns, w/Oscar) in another five-on-five Survivor Series match. Tatanka stuck around into March 1996 as a nondescript midcard heel. In fact, you can pinpoint Tatanka’s heel turn as the point at which the WWF went into a deep creative funk and then when he leaves as the point where the WWF starts to slowly turn it around creatively (though you may, understandably, point to Survivor Series ’95 as the earlier point where the company begins a true creative shake-up). Luger tears up Tatanka and the rest of the heels until Bundy jumps in the ring, which is when Mabel steps between the ropes and faces off with him. I dig Bundy, who was a great personality, but unlike other big men from the ‘80s who were sneaky good when they were younger and still quite agile for their size (see: Kamala, One Man Gang), I’m not sure that Bundy was ever good in-ring. Even someone like 1994 Mabel is actually a very fun watch. See here, he just hit a second-rope crossbody on Dr. Tom Prichard that was pretty fucking impressive. It’s almost needless to report that Prichard doesn’t kick out of that one [Guts and Glory 5 – 4 The Million Dollar Team]. Jimmy Del Ray jumps into the ring and eats a quick uranage after trying (and failing) to score an impactful clothesline. That uranage should also have gotten three, but Mabel lets Del Rey squirm to his corner and tag Bundy. Hilariously, Bundy shoves Mabel and has the nerve to call him FAT BOY. See? Bundy cracks me up. So, they have a shoulderblock war and Mabel eventually plows Bundy over, which ruled hard. Holy shit, just give me agile 300+ pounders running into each other for five minutes. I’ll give it six stars every time. Bundy tags in Bam Bam and Mabel clears him out with a wheel kick before – holy crap! – going up top and – HOLY CRAP! – getting cut off and pressed to the mat. Bam Bam goes up next and tries a sunset flip, but Mabel keeps his balance and counters with a sitout splash. This crowd is impressed by these massive dudes doing aerial and high-impact spots. HOLY SHIT, now Mabel hits Bammer with a Cactus Clothesline! They both crash to the floor and, while Bam Bam makes it back into the ring at nine, Mabel is counted out [Guts and Glory 4 – 4 The Million Dollar Team]. Yeah, I buy that the impact was so massive that it would get one or both guys counted out. This was the best wrestling on the card so far tonight. I continue to believe that Mabel had a little something going for himself in 1994. Now that Mabel’s out, I kind of don’t care anymore, gonna be honest. Sure, Adam Bomb is cool, but I want Mabel back out here. Actually, just have Luger, Bomb, and Mabel survive as the winners of this bout. That’s what I want. Bundy hits Bomb in the back of the head as Bomb hits the ropes; Bammer takes advantage and lands a moonsault for three [Guts and Glory 3 – 4 The Million Dollar Team]. That was dope as fuck, y’all. This match rules. Luger rushes into the ring and tries to steal a quick rollup on Bigelow, but Bammer kicks out and then re-establishes control, tagging in Del Ray to put in some work. Alas, Del Ray is quickly dispatched by Luger with a Metal Elbow [Guts and Glory 3 – 3 The Million Dollar Team] and Tatanka jumps in only to be met by Bart Gunn. We’re wicking away all the dudes who can do cool spots. We’ve got Bam Bam and also Billy Gunn’s rad dropkick, but that’s about it. The hefty dude spotfest from earlier in the match was so great that the work that comes after it will feel like a comedown no matter how solid it is. Tatanka almost rolls his ankle during the landing on a monkey flip, but he survives that and an ugly Bart Gunn sunset flip attempt; in fact, he counters the latter into an End of the Trail and covers for a three count [Guts and Glory 2 – 3 The Million Dollar Team]. Tatanka still hasn’t tagged out, though. He was too hurt to tag after the pinfall, and now he is trapped by Billy and Lex, who make quick tags. Finally, Tatanka counters a Billy leapover and dumps him, then tags in Bundy. Bundy misses an elbowdrop, but reverses a corner whip, hits a running splash, and then successfully drops an elbow for three [Guts and Glory 1 – 3 The Million Dollar Team]. Luger is left all alone, and he attacks the illegal Tatanka instead of the legal Bundy, which allows Bundy to easily get the drop on him. Luger manages to avoid attacks from all three men; Tatanka tags in and kicks out with perfect timing for a 2.9 after Luger lands a Metal Elbow. Bammer tags back in and regains control of the match, then tags in Bundy, who can’t put Luger away with a kneedrop. Tatanka’s back in with a tag, and this is boring, man. You took out all the interesting workers except for Bam Bam. I mean, Luger can be good, but not as a babyface in the WWF. The heels tag in and out. There are many close two counts. So many close two counts. So, so many. Luger finally steals a sloppy small package on Tatanka for three [Guts and Glory 1 – 2 The Million Dollar Team], but is almost immediately splashed by Bundy for three [Guts and Glory 0 – 2 The Million Dollar Team]. Holy shit, Luger is jobbing to King Kong Bundy in 1994 so that they can heat Bundy up enough to job him to the Undertaker at WrestleMania in a few months. What a fall from grace for this poor bastard. Is Luger’s WWF run the worst run by a top guy in any major company when you account for how long it was and how quickly he was cooled off and sent to the midcard to do absolutely nothing compared to his actual star power (which his work in 1996 and 1997 WCW showed he certainly still had in spades)? Holy fuck, man. It’s baffling, too, because Luger looks like exactly the sort of guy that Vince would heavily push without any restraint or consideration for what the fans think. The heels kick the fuck out of Luger after the match until the babyfaces run them off. The good parts of this match weren’t long enough and the boring parts went on forever, but the good parts were very good, so there’s that at least. Yeah, my ideal wrestling company is comprised of the following: Ten to fifteen swoll former football players Six to eight acrobatic fat dudes Six to eight mat technicians that can hide a thigh or bicep slap as well as Bret Hart does, Five smaller flying babyfaces who can bump Eight or ten women split evenly between high flyers and burly ladies with wicked guillotine legdrops and powerbombs A handful of tag teams (one Tully-and-Arn style team, one team of fat dudes who do moonsaults, one or two APA-style teams who throw lariats at a moment’s provocation, and then two or three tag teams that leap around and die beautifully when hit with said lariats) All feuds are over money, to restore one’s honor, over the affections of a romantic partner, or over titles. That’s it. Boom. The ultimate point is that no company is complete without at least a couple of 350-ish pound dudes doing wheel kicks and second-rope crossbody blocks and uranages and shit like that. Interview time [w/Todd Pettengill]: Here is the best thing on the card, even more so than any of the big man impact moves from the previous match. New champ Bob Backlund reaffirms that he is not a two-time WWF World Champion, but a one-time world champion because he never really lost the belt in 1978 on account of he didn’t ask for the towel to be thrown in, dammit! OK, here are his words exactly after he gets done setting Pettengill straight about what he considers to be the true title lineage: “I beat the man that represents YOUR SOCIETY. I beat him so I could SAVE YOU. I’m gonna SCRUTINIZE YOU to the FULLEST, PASTURIZE you, HOMOGENIZE you, and SYNCHRONIZE YOU **getting ever more shrill** BACK INTO MORAL-I-TY! You understand, ladies and gentlemen?! It’s sports education! I’M. YOUR. CHAMPION! AND I’LL TAKE ON ANYBODY **getting suddenly, creepily calm** anybody at all, ladies and gentlemen, in your generation, because I’m fightin’ for something that’s more important than anything in this world, is [to] put morality back into your lives, and now your children have someone that they can emulate after and try to catch up to **goes absolutely off his goddam rocker** BECAUSE I FEEL. LIKE. GOD!” Again, where the fuck did this come from? It’s legitimately one of the best promos this company produced in the ‘90s. You watch Backlund’s interviews in 1981 or whenever and tell me if you ever saw this coming. I sure as hell didn’t. Gab Gab Gab: Monsoon points out that Backlund is a hypocrite because he won the title tonight without his opponent giving up, just as he lost it without himself giving up before. Where’s the morality in that, Gorilla wonders? Hear, hear, but Backlund’s gimmick is that – minimal politics! – he’s a right-wing nutter, so obviously this sort of thing is justice when it happens in favor of him, but injustice when it happens in favor of someone else. Match: Speaking of right-wing nutters, here’s Chuck Norris! He’s going to enforce the rules in tonight’s main event Casket Match. Yokozuna (w/Jim Cornette and Mr. Fuji) makes his way to the ring, but this time, he won’t have a shedload of heels available to help him win this casket match as he did ten months ago at the Royal Rumble. Still speaking of right-wing nutters, here’s the Undertaker (w/Paul Bearer)! OK, I’ll stop. Sorry. If you’ll recall, this Undertaker/Yokozuna feud popped off at the ’93 Survivor Series, so this match has been a year in the making. Yoko is scared of the zombie man and his clotheslines have little effect on ‘Taker to boot. The casket also wigs Yokozuna out. Even the mere presence of Chuck Norris has the big man feeling uneasy. Taker beats him up outside the ring, then gets back in the ring and lands an Old School to the wobbly Yoko. ‘Taker next tries a lariat, but Yoko ducks it and lands a Samoan Drop that would crush a normal man. Alas, the zombie man sits up. Yoko lands more offense and tries to roll his opponent into the casket, but the Undertaker is up and fighting back. He drapes Yoko’s neck across the ropes with a cutter, which finally knocks Yokozuna down. I joke about it, but the sit-ups are a cool thing. The anticipation that ‘Taker will just sit up from an attack is satisfyingly met when it happens and it indicates that things are dire when it doesn’t. Yoko hits a huge uranage that the Undertaker tries to sit up from; Yoko drops a leg to cut him off and then gets ‘Taker into the casket. Unfortunately for him, he can’t close the lid; ‘Taker fights up with strikes and then stand in the casket and throw hands at one another. Fuji grabs ‘Taker’s hair in desperation. ‘Taker stalks him and grabs his collar, then chops Cornette when Cornette tries to break that up. All this hullabaloo gives Yoko time to recover, however. He attacks the Undertaker as the latter tries to re-enter the ring. This leads to some dull control from Yoko until the Undertaker catches the big man on a drop down and shoves him hard to the mat. ‘Taker goes up, meets Yoko with a diving clothesline as Yoko gets to his feet, and rolls him slowly toward the casket. While that happens, King Kong Bundy and Bam Bam Bigelow walk down the aisle to help Yokozuna, where they are met by Norris standing sentinel. ‘Tis merely a distraction, however, as I.R.S. jumps in the ring and attacks the Undertaker, using a sleeper to drowse ‘Taker enough to toss him into the casket. Vince: “The Undertaker was put to sleep by I.R.S.!” Really, who among us hasn’t been put to sleep by that guy? Yoko stirs, stumbles, finally reaches for the lid…and is met by a goozle from the revived Undertaker. Jeff Jarrett walks down the aisle and is met with Sweet Chin Music from Chuck; he runs away while ‘Taker polishes off Yoko in the ring with a leaping clothesline, and DDT, and a big boot. That boot knocks Yoko into the casket; ‘Taker rips the Japanese flagpole from Fuji, snaps the pole over his knee, tosses it in after Yokozuna, and closes the casket to win the bout and the feud. This was watchable enough, especially for late-stage Yokozuna. I just wish we got a shot of Yokozuna on a couch in his locker room, stuffing his face with processed goods and proclaiming, “Fuckin’ Chuck Norris.” Alas, Rawson Marshall Thurber was only nineteen at the time this match happened. This show is the harbinger for the messy, bad, mis-booked 1995 that the WWF is about to have and that I’m going to partially review sooner rather than later in this thread. There is good work on here and some pieces on the metaphorical chessboard that could have been well-deployed, but Vince and his lieutenants were simply not up to the task of meeting this moment. 2.25 Digital Snowflakes out of 5.

Great tweet here. If you re-read my post, it says that he's one of the best writers around and that I love New Vegas and Pentiment. I didn't say that he wrote all of New Vegas. This is a good tweet chain, though.

Jason Schreier is reporting that Josh Sawyer is heading up a new Fallout at Obsidian, which is good news. Sawyer is the best writer in video games in my opinion. New Vegas is one of my two absolute favorite games ever made and Pentiment is brilliant and my GotY for 2022.

I didn't have "someone brings up the Great Vowel Shift" on my General Discussion Bingo Card this month. Can an explanation of how the English losing the battle of Hastings in 1066 being why we call meat processed to make hamburgers "ground beef" instead of "ground cow" be far behind?

Let people use their goddam prepositions as they please, I say.

You are not the first person who I have talked to who has not finished a grad thesis because they got addicted to a PC game.

I'm on a slow-paced Civ V game right now that has been played strictly for just over couple hours at a time, about three Superstars episodes per play session. I can only take so much Vince/Hayes/Lawler on commentary before I decide to get up and do something else.

For whatever reason, I've been mainlining mid-'90s Superstars while playing Civilization for a couple of hours the past few days. I just wanted to post the following Superstars that I quite enjoyed: A Brickhouse Brown appearance! (I'd never have guessed that he and Trips ever shared the same ring) A fun little Aldo Montoya/Hakushi match! The Skip/Barry Horowitz storyline is actually an entertaining B- and C-show feud! Waylon Mercy finally gladhands one of the guest ring announcer kids! (I was waiting for that to happen for the past couple of shows) 1995 is not a high-quality year for the WWF, but I find it an interesting watch all the same. I think the quality of matches on Superstars is actually solid. There is a decent mix of competitive midcard matches and squashes. The issues are, of course, the unholy combinations of Vince McMahon and Michael Hayes or Vince McMahon and Jerry Lawler on commentary (Ross'll be back soon, thankfully), and the bad gimmicks. So many folks came through this company at the wrong time. Shane Douglas got over by cussing a lot and also standing next to the conventionally attractive Francine, mostly. He's perfectly acceptable in the ring and, rumor has it, even cut a good promo on Ric Flair in WCW's dying days, so he has some utility. If he comes to the WWF in mid-late 1996 instead of mid-late 1995, he probably gets to just be Shane Douglas, he dodges the deleterious influence of Hall and Nash on his career (and Shawn is too busy trying to drive Bret out of the company), and he probably manages a few very well-paid years just floating around the midcard during the Attitude Era. He was broken down physically by 1999, but that wouldn't matter if he's wrestling two minute RAW matches in between promos full of cusses while standing next to some conventionally attractive valet. Fatu is on this show, and his Make a Difference gimmick is four years too late. We're in the middle of a Tupac/Biggie rap war and Fatu's act is more Arrested Development in its social consciousness approach. The multicolored jacket would have been in style in 1990, but we're almost to 1996. Fatu's 1994-1996 is weird. He goes from culturally outdated gimmick to attempt at a modern gimmick that is four or five years too late and then right back to a culturally outdated gimmick (while wearing a mask, no less). Also, Waylon Mercy missed a trick by not insisting on waking up his knocked out opponents after winning with the sleeper, but instead of just chopping them at the base of the neck, he wakes them up by piledriving them (before insisting to the ref that he's just being a good sportsman). Poor Bret Hart having to sell feuds with dentists and pirates. These Lawler/Yankem promos are so bad that I can't believe that someone had them run for multiple episodes.