ON THE ROAD: WCW Nitro (06/17/96 – Richmond, VA)

DEAN ATTENDS HORSEMEN RALLY; CLIFF STAYS HOME AND VOMITS ON SHOES!! (also known as Dean goes to Nitro in Richmond)


I went to the Nitro deal tonight in Richmond (my hometown) and had a big old time; unfortunately without the incredibly sick Cliff, who was so sick that he couldn’t go to wrestling which is pretty dang sick. He called and said I should take his ticket and find somebody to go with. I asked my wife and she said,”Dean! I’m pregnant! Go to hell!” Ah hormones.

I called my old friend Jenny, who is the local traffic gal here in Richmond and she was stoked and the wife was relieved that she didn’t have to go with me. so I drove to Cliff’s and got the tickets and stopped at Baskin Robbins to get ice cream for me, my wife and the youngster (three scoops) and got back in time to see Jen pull up. In the sudden confusion, I didn’t get Jeremy’s location off the e-mail so that was bummer number one. Jen and I park in one of the more horrifying neighborhoods in Richmond and made our way to the Richmond Coliseum. We are pleasantly surprised as we reach our seats because Cliff got us some choice seats on the floor about ten rows back. Little did we know that we were about to enter… the Zubaz Cretin Redneck Zone. I have no problem with the salt of the earth taking in a wrestling match around me, but sit the Fuck down. Jenny, who went to the RAW taping because one of her radio stations gave her free tickets, was relieved when I told her that it wouldn’t be five hours long. She was pointing out future second wives to me and I kept pointing to guys she was going to have to settle for. I picked for her a Miami Dolphin Zubaz-wearing redneck with a wifebeater shirt and a shvelby (those hairstyles that say, “I still love Molly Hatchet.”) We decide to kill time by yelling, “Jeremy!” a lot, hoping he is not on the other side of Richmond Rednecks United, but to no avail. ON TO THE MATCHES! (all mentions of Wildcat Willie deleted. You are welcomed)

Turdboy Okerlund came out and made some lame attempts at jokes dealing with local stripper bars and then Flair came out and everybody went hogwild. Hogan would not have survived this crowd. He wasn’t here once a month for fifteen years like Flair was. After Flair berates assorted “fatboys” Pinzer came out and thoroughly unimpressed Jenny. “This guy sucks,” she said.

They kill some more time and finally we have the first darkmatch:


Jen falls instantly in love with Konnan. A quote: “Who is the bald guy? He’s spunky.” Konnan wrestled heel and seemed to be having a good time in this thoroughly useless match. Konnan wins with a standing figure four. Konnan does that victory thrust thing that he does and Jen is smitten. I realize now why I dated Jen twelve years ago:)

Captain Loathesome (Okerlund!!) comes out and does a few more interveiws and bumpers, and finally we get to TV matches.


I tell Jen that these are the less talented brothers of really good wrestlers, and Stevie Ray delivers by sucking out loud. Idiots in front of us keep standing up and blocking our veiw for no apparent reason. This isn;t a problem yet. Rick won somehow, all I could see were bocephus shirts standing on chairs.


Jen quote on Mr. Gomez. “This guy isn’t very good is he?” I reluctantly agree. Gomez gets the win in front of a thousand rat-tail haircuts blocking our veiw. Still no problem. We go get a drink because there is ten minutes between matches, we return and…

Benoit is in the ring.


Everybody over the age of ten was doing the Horsemen symbol, these guys are so over its scary and awe-inspiring. Benoit puts a gigantic hurt on Bagwell and pins Riggs. Arn is riling the crowd up the entire time. You’d have thought the Horsemen were from Petersburg or something from the pop after the pin for Benoit and Anderson. Jen quote: “Jesus Christ! Look at that guys chest!” (Bagwell’s, after Benoit busted him up pretty bad.)


Me and Jen take turns yelling “Up in front!” and “Stand on your chairs, you’re missing it!” Luckily everyone around us was complying, but flashes of the match still got through enough to repulse Jen. We decide to hit the cheap seats before the Misterio/Malenko match, because its the best way to see all of it anyway.


We get up to the upper deck in time to see the Flair/Savage match. It was great because we were around two million kids so we started chanting along to the Macho Man chant that the little folk had started. Compared to the braindead cretins we were dealing with on the floor, this is was like Wimbeldon. Flair wins as Mongo interferes and the Horsemen stompdown (TM somebody on RSPW) is applied. Savage looked better than I had seen in a while. Odd man next to me tells me that, “Flair cheated.” I reluctantly agree. Much odder man in front of me asks if this is going to be on television. I assure him that it will be. He assures me that he will try to watch it when he gets home. Comforted, I turn quickly to Jen. Jen is talking to a woman who is there with at least five kids and they are both busting on the Hooter girls. Jen tries unsuccessfully to start a “those aren’t real” chant. Jen always was a wild one.


Jen and Mother of five are really into Rey, gawking at his hinder like high school girls. Jen is instantly amazed at Misterio though it was the most restrained I’d ever seen him. Malenko went for power moves en lieu of submission moves tonight and, amazingly, the crowd was actually respectful at first and into it by the end, popping like a New Japan audience with each hellish Malenko slam and suplex. During one nearfall Jen marks out and yells “No!” before Rey kicks out. She freaks out at the spring board Frankensteiner as do the eight zillion youngsters around us. Malenko wins with a nasty reverse Diamond Cutter. Malenko continues to garner hard respect.

Jen looks tired and I don’t really want to see the Giant squash so we hop in the car and await the next batch of wrestling. Jen is abuzz about Misterio as I drop her off at her car. Cliff is gonna be so pissed that he missed Rey and Benoit live, but it was cool hanging with Jen and her weird perspective on this thing called professional wrestling.

Dean Rasmussen