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Post by nintendologic on May 15, 2021 16:14:28 GMT -5
Barry Windham vs 2 Cold Scorpio (WCW, 6/16/93)
I dig this match because they managed to strip the NWA title match formula down to its barest essentials. We get the challenger one-upping the champion in the early going, the champion asserting control and ramping up the viciousness, the challenger gradually fighting his way back in, and a hot run of near falls down the stretch, all in less than 13 minutes. Those segments perhaps aren't as developed as they could be given the truncated length, but they're not underdeveloped either. Windham muscles Scorpio into the corner off a lock-up at the outset, but Scorpio rolls out of the way of a second lock-up attempt and nails Windham with a dropkick. Windham goes for a wristlock, but Scorpio bodyslams his way out. Windham whips Scorpio into the corner, but Scorpio manages a rather ugly takedown and goes for a half crab. I think maybe their wires got crossed there. Windham makes the ropes and takes a powder outside the ring. Back in, Windham gains control by getting Scorpio to duck with a feint punch and kicking him in the chest. Shades of Arn Anderson! Windham continues the Horsemen tribute act with a Flair-esque knee drop. Windham hits a beautiful float-over suplex and tries to claw Scorpio's eyes out when he kicks out. Scorpio fires back, but Windham dodges a dropkick by grabbing the ropes. After Scorpio gets a near fall of a small package, Windham levels him with a straight right that Scorpio sells magnificently. Scorpio kicks out of a pin after a gutwrench suplex, so Windham follows up with mounted punches. Scorpio hits a dropkick, but he's so worn down that Windham recovers first and drops him with a diving lariat. When Windham dumps Scorpio to the floor, referee Nick Patrick prevents him from following up. Some brawling on the outside would have taken this to another level, but it wasn't meant to be. Scorpio comes back in with a springboard Thesz press. I think maybe it was supposed to be a sunset flip and he had to improvise because Windham was too far from the ropes. Windham then comes back with another kick to the midsection. Scorpio reverses a Samoan drop into a sunset slip, but Windham immediately flattens him with a lariat. I really liked how Windham would clobber Scorpio to reassert dominance after flash pins. Scorpio finally gets an opening when Windham takes him up for a superplex. After throwing him off, Scorpio comes down with a splash and runs off an incredible string of near falls. In addition to a hurricanrana and a wheelbarrow victory roll, he somehow manages to hit a springboard 450, which is still pretty mind-blowing nearly 30 years later. Windham tosses Scorpio out of the ring in a desperate attempt to gain a breather. Scorpio jumps back up and tries to springboard back in, but Windham catches him with an uppercut. I'm a sucker for the spot where the heel tosses the babyface out of the ring and the face immediately rolls back in, so I enjoyed that unique spin. Implant DDT wins it for Windham.
Tier: 4. It may not have the depth of a truly elite match, but a strong formula executed to perfection with no downtime will always win me over. An incredible offensive performance from Windham with some ridiculous highspots from Scorpio.
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Post by nintendologic on May 16, 2021 15:33:32 GMT -5
Jushin Liger vs. Naoki Sano (NJPW, 8/10/89)
This ended up being the highest-ranked New Japan match on my ballot last year. I can't guarantee it'll repeat this year, but it's definitely in the running. Of course, this match is best known for Liger's selling of his injured arm. The key to Liger's performance isn't just the way he sells when his arm is under direct assault. The injury colors everything he does. You can see that at the outset when he positions his body to keep his arm as far away from Sano as possible. You know the damage is serious when he frantically scrambles for the ropes off a simple wristlock. After hitting a koppo kick, Liger does a one-armed snapmare and applies a chinlock with his right arm before switching to a figure-four headscissors. Sano reverses and applies a Fujiwara armbar, which again has Liger scrambling for the ropes. Sano applies a double wristlock which Liger reverses into an Indian deathlock. He works a surfboard for a bit before going for a double-leg crucifix pin. Note the continued determination to avoid using his arm whenever possible. Sano goes for an Irish whip and then just yanks Liger's arm out of its socket. Holy shit. After some more work on the arm, mainly in the form of stomps, Liger comes back with a single-leg pick followed by a leg drop. His arm is useless at this point, so he continues the assault with kicks and headbutts. Sano tosses Liger out of the ring and follows up with a baseball slide dropkick. He first tries to bring Liger in the hard way with a suplex and then just rams him shoulder-first into the turnbuckle. Liger needs something big to get him back in, and he gets it when he lands a superplex onto the apron. He tries to follow up with a dive, but Sano cuts him off with an anti-air dropkick. It's then Sano's turn to crash and burn when Liger sidesteps a tope. I love that whole sequence because it emphasizes the risk part of high-risk maneuver. Sano comes up bleeding, and Liger works the cut with kicks and stomps while still selling his arm. Sano rolls to the outside to try to establish separation, but Liger piledrives him onto the concrete. Sano finally gets the break he needs when he fights off a superplex and comes down with a missile shotgun dropkick. Liger being disoriented on the outside allows him to follow up with a plancha. See, aerial maneuvers are much more satisfying when the wrestlers have to earn them. Sano goes for a German suplex back in the ring and goes back to the arm when Liger tries to counter by reversing it into a Fujiwara armbar. Liger whips Sano into the corner and Sano flips out, but Liger drops him with a clothesline and goes for a pin. It's actually a hell of a near fall because of the way Liger desperately drops onto Sano, like he's falling on a grenade. Liger tries to follow up with a vertical suplex, but Sano reverses into an armbar yet again. The overarching story of the match is that Sano's arm work isn't about providing him a direct path to victory. It's about cutting off Liger's comebacks and opening him up for the big bombs. Sano finally hits the German and gets the win with an avalanche backdrop.
Tier: 3. I should probably say now that all these tier rankings are provisional. I reserve the right to promote and demote matches when all is said and done. Anyway, depending on how you choose to classify Eddy/Rey at Halloween Havoc (although it's an apuestas match between two luchadores, it's far closer spiritually to juniors wrestling than lucha libre), this is either the greatest or the second-greatest juniors match of all time.
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Post by nintendologic on May 17, 2021 12:27:23 GMT -5
Vader vs. Sting (WCW, 12/28/92)
Vader wearing a durag to the ring is a bizarre fashion choice even by early 90s standards. Regardless, they establish at the beginning that Vader is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object. He shrugs off Sting's punches and slams him to the mat after picking him up like a small child. Sting tries to rush at Vader, but it's like running into a brick wall. Vader follows up with a pair of gorilla press stun guns, forcing Sting to roll to the floor to recover. Back in, Sting ducks a pair of clotheslines and finally takes Vader down with a rolling koppu kick. The overarching theme of this match is momentum (in the physics sense). Vader is such an imposing physical force that Sting has to run the ropes several times to gain a full head of steam to knock the big man off his feet. He then clothelines Vader out of the ring and takes out both Vader and Harley Race with a plancha. There's a weird dynamic in a lot of Vader matches where his opponent will attack Race first, making it seem almost justified when he interferes later on. Back in, Vader forces Sting into the corner and literally knocks the paint off his face with clubbing blows, which is an awesome visual. Sting manages to lock in the scorpion deathlock, and Vader rolls outside after making the ropes. The next big turning point comes when Sting goes sternum-first into the guardrail after Vader sidesteps a Stinger splash on the outside. When Sting makes it back in, Vader pummels him with punches that looked like they should have knocked out at least a couple of teeth. If those weren't shoot punches, then Vader is on par with Bill Dundee as a master of the worked punch because he looked like he was straight-up punching Sting in the jaw. Sting's selling of the punches is world-class, stumbling around like Sangre Chicana in a hair match. Or maybe he was genuinely knocked loopy. Vader hits a splash but pulls back too far on the leg during the pin, allowing Sting to slip out the back door. That was a great way to believably keep Sting in the match. Vader makes sure to cut Sting off immediately after a couple of hope spots (a backslide-which comes across as a feat of superhuman strength because it's Vader on the receiving end-and dodging the butt splash counter to a sunset flip) and even ends up recovering first after a Sting backdrop. As Jesse Ventura sagely notes, it's depressing as hell when you hit a move and the other guy gets up first. Vader applies a chinlock and Sting goes into rope-a-dope mode after escaping. It's as if he sensed that the chinlock meant he was about to gas out. It's not too often that a resthold enhances the psychology of a match. Sting fights off a superplex attempt and looks like he wants to come down with a splash, but he ends up collapsing to the mat. Love that spot. After chopping Vader down with a punch flurry, Sting finally hits the splash. After a timely distraction from Race allows Vader to regain control, he hits his own splash from the second rope but somehow bounces away before he can make the cover. He tries again, going all the way up top this time, but this gives Sting enough time to recover and reverse it into a powerslam for a pin. Even if the execution seemed a bit off, the idea was sound since a high-impact move combined with a flash pin is probably the best way for an underdog to pick up a win against a much larger opponent (see also, Darby Allin vs. Brian Cage).
Tier: 2. This match is a longtime favorite of mine. Like I said, it's all about momentum. The only way Sting can create openings is by either really flinging himself at Vader like a human missile or using his size and strength against him. Some of the spots looked a little wonky, but as a combination of near-perfect David vs. Goliath psychology and hard-hitting action with no real downtime, this is hard to beat.
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Post by nintendologic on May 18, 2021 14:44:28 GMT -5
Katsuyori Shibata vs. Tomoaki Honma (NJPW, 8/3/14)
What a war this was. They start out by rushing at each other like two runaway freight trains on a collision course and never let up from there. This is the kind of match that doesn't really lend itself to a play-by-play breakdown, so I'll try to hit on the major themes as I perceive them. I find most modern New Japan forearm-fests virtually unwatchable, so what sets this apart? One, they both wrestle like they're trying to win a match and not prove that they're the toughest men in the world. None of that put my hands behind my back and let you elbow me or take a seat and let you kick me in the back shit here. All the major transitions come from counters rather than fighting spirit no-selling. Two, there's a clear sense of hierarchy. GOTNW over at PWO summed up my major problem with Tomohiro Ishii matches when he pointed out that although Ishii is usually booked as an underdog, he almost never works as one. Honma here is effective at conveying his underdog status despite the match being worked fairly evenly. Everything he does, from his elbows to his pin attempts, is tinged with desperation. Shibata, while occasionally conveying frustration that Honma is giving him this much trouble, is mostly unflappable throughout, recognizing that Honma's high-risk assault will eventually catch up with him. He also has probably the stiffest elbows in history. I imagine even Misawa was saying "Hey man, ease up a bit" from beyond the grave. Even the macho tough-guy posturing is hierarchical in nature. When Honma does it, he's trying to prove he belongs. When Shibata does it, he's trying to put the upstart in his place. In the end, it comes down to Honma's top rope kokeshi vs. Shibata's GTS (to set up the PK). When Honma goes up top, Shibata puts his legs up and Honma ends up diving head-first into the soles of Shibata's boots. Jesus. Shortly afterward, Honma tries to get Shibata into position for another attempt, but Shibata puts him down with a spinning backhand chop and lifts him up for the GTS. He puts an end to Honma's struggles with an uppercut before landing it. I really liked how Shibata had to alter his trajectory for the PK because of the way Honma crumpled. It's always awesome to see someone not just neatly fall into position for an opponent's offense.
Tier: 3. A high-octane sprint doesn't quite reach the highs of the very best King's Road epics for me. But if you're going to sprint, this is how you do it.
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Post by nintendologic on May 19, 2021 13:20:50 GMT -5
Hirooki Goto/Katsuyori Shibata vs. Yuji Nagata/Tomoaki Honma (NJPW, 6/21/14)
Honma is kind of a curious choice for the role of young boy taking his lumps in a tag match given that he's actually older than both Goto and Shibata. But he's like Rey Mysterio in that he's such an eternal underdog that he makes it work. He gets the jump on Meiyu Tag before the bell, dropping Shibata with a lariat and knocking Goto out of the ring with an elbow. He's going down regardless, so he might as well die with his boots on. Shibata sells Honma's chops fantastically, clearly registering damage but not wanting to show weakness. After Shibata goes down, Honma punts him in the face. Shibata trying to fight his way out of the corner before being overwhelmed by the two-on-one is a pretty badass moment. He manages to assert control in classic overdog bully fashion by pulling Honma's arms apart and landing a right hook that drops Honma like a ton of bricks. He then delivers a receipt for the earlier punt before tagging out. The highlight of the Honma-in-peril section was Shibata setting him up for a PK and then booting Nagata off the apron. He clearly views Honma as an annoying distraction from his main issue with Nagata. The secondary highlight was Shibata doing a coconut crush, which is all kinds of awesome. Nagata's hot tag eventually devolves into a fighting spirit exchange with Shibata, which was my least favorite part of the match. After Nagata hits an exploder, Shibata pops up and hits a backdrop. That sucked, but I'll admit the deadlift backdrop was pretty cool. Also, I'm thankful that it didn't lead to a simultaneous tag. Honma was still lying dead in his corner, so Nagata couldn't have tagged out even if he had made it over. Shibata breaks up a demon armbar on Goto, but Honma rises from the dead and takes him out. He double-teams Goto with Nagata for a bit before going up for the top rope kokeshi. Goto gets up before he can land it, so he turns it into a top rope blockbuster. After Nagata breaks up a Goto pin, Shibata drags him to the floor and they end up brawling on the outside. Honma reversing a shouten into a small page was a tremendous near fall. Goto gets the win with a reverse ushigoroshi as Nagata and Shibata brawl to the back.
Tier: 4. Just a ridiculously fun match. A more developed heat section on Honma and a better Nagata hot tag would have elevated this to tier 3.
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Post by nintendologic on May 22, 2021 16:00:21 GMT -5
Apologies for the delay, everyone. No major life events got in the way, just laziness/writer's block. Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.
Stan Hansen/Genichiro Tenryu vs. Jumbo Tsuruta/Yoshiaki Yatsu (AJPW, 12/6/89)
Yatsu had sustained a head injury at some point and comes into this match wearing headgear as a result. It not only protects his noggin but adds extra juice to his headbutts. The opening minutes have plenty of chippiness but not a ton of direction. I did really like how Tenryu dragged Yatsu over to his corner before tagging out, though. The first major turning point comes about four minutes in when Yatsu sidesteps a double-team maneuver. Tenryu goes tumbling to the outside, allowing Jumbo to do a number on him on the floor. Jumbo and Yatsu then proceed to suplex the hell out of Tenryu, tossing him around like they're the Japanese Steiner Brothers and forcing Hansen to come into to break up several pins. Tenryu gets the break he needs when he blocks a belly-to-belly suplex attempt from Yatsu and tags out. Hansen rips the headgear off, and it's open season on Yatsu's brain cells from that point on. I will say that this section probably went on a bit too long. After all, there's only so many ways you can put a different spin on kicking and kneeing someone in the head, and you can only do it for so long before it ceases to be interesting. However, it's mostly redeemed by the incorporation of more American-style elements. In a typical Japanese tag, the emphasis is on punishment rather than cutting off the ring, and the first clear opportunity to tag out is usually successful. Here, Yatsu keeps trying to make the tag like he's Ricky Morton, forcing Hansen and Tenryu to cut him off. Probably the best example is when Tenryu goes up for a diving back elbow drop. Yatsu rolls out of the way, but Tenryu grabs his trunks to prevent him from making it to his corner and rolls over to tag Hansen in. Yatsu finally turns the tide when he ducks a Tenryu chop and hits a German suplex. Jumbo is a house of fire off the hot tag, even pummeling Tenryu with mounted punches, and Hansen does an amazing job of selling being dead on his feet after being whipped into the ropes. The rally finally ends after Hansen lariats Jumbo in the back of the head. The idea was perfectly fine, but the execution was a bit off. Jumbo was going for a German suplex and saw Hansen coming off the ropes plain as day but made no attempt to dodge. Oh, well. While all this is happening, Yatsu is getting his head bandaged up on the outside. The Jumbo-in-peril section is more Japanese-style, with Hansen and Tenryu employing vicious double-team offense including a ROCKET LAUNCHER of all things and a spike piledriver. A jumping knee from Jumbo sends Hansen to the floor, at which point it's Yatsu's time to shine. First, he pulls back the mat and bulldogs Hansen onto the concrete. He then sends Hansen into the ringpost, busting him open. He rolls Hansen back into the ring and Jumbo rolls him up with a small package. That may be a curious choice to some, but it worked for me because it came across like he was desperate to just get this shit over with. Yatsu tags in shortly afterward and finally gains a measure of revenge, kicking and headbutting Hansen's bloody face. He seemingly has things going completely his way when he ducks a Tenryu enzuigiri, causing it to hit Hansen. However, the tables are turned when he goes for a bulldog and Tenryu on the outside grabs Hansen's trunks to prevent him from going along. Hansen fends Yatsu off and adjusts his elbow pad to signal for the lariat. There's a spectacular dominoes falling sequence at the end when Yatsu goes for a German suplex, Jumbo hits Hansen with a jumping knee to aid in the process, Tenryu hits Yatsu with an enzuigiri to break it up, Jumbo fights off Tenryu, and Hansen hits the lariat amid all the chaos. Jumbo tries to break up the pin, but Tenryu grabs his trunks and he ends up a fingertip away.
Tier: 3. I imagine Makoto Hashi saw this match and Yatsu's performance in particular at some point and said to himself "You know what, this is what I want to do with my life." Although shambolic at points, this is loaded with great ideas and moments. It would've hit tier 2 status if it had presented them in a tighter and more cohesive fashion.
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Post by nintendologic on May 25, 2021 18:27:39 GMT -5
Randy Savage vs. Ricky Steamboat (WWF, 2/15/87)
Savage starts out by going low with a knee, but Steamboat ducks a clothesline and hits an armdrag, following it with a chop and mounted punches. Savage tries to take a powder on the ramp when Steamboat remains a step ahead (Maple Leaf Gardens has an elevated entrance ramp, which would factor into the match), but Steamboat inflicts more punishment and tosses him back in. Savage immediately rolls to the floor, and when Steamboat gives chase, Savage rolls back in and catches him with an axehandle. Going to the ramp didn't work for Savage since it was on the same horizontal plane, so he maneuvered in a way that allowed him to take advantage of higher ground. One of my favorite things about Savage was the way he used ring positioning to his advantage, and this is a virtuoso performance from him. I love a good king of the mountain segment, and we get a pretty great one here. In addition to ramming Steamboat into the guardrail and slamming him on the floor, Savage drops an elbow on Steamboat's throat with his neck on the top rope, leading to one of Steamboat's trademark ultra-theatrical sell jobs that carries all the way up to the cheap seats. He targets the neck periodically throughout the match but doesn't fully commit to it, which is kind of unfortunate. Steamboat's sell of a bionic elbow is subtler but no less brilliant, like a boxer knocked to the canvas by a right hook. Savage hits a diving double axehandle and follows it up with a running bionic elbow. Another of my favorite things about Savage is the way he strung offense together. Steamboat manages to get back in it after dodging a leaping body guillotine and slows things down with a chinlock. Savage tries to escape by pulling the hair, so he turns it into a neck crank. That was pretty cool. Steamboat skins the cat after Savage tries to toss him to the floor like he did previously only for Savage to immediately send him out with a clothesline. They do a fantastic job throughout of referencing and building on earlier spots. Savage goes for the coup de grace by draping Steamboat's neck on the guardrail and going up for a diving double axehandle, but Steamboat catches him in the breadbasket on the way down. He then seeks payback by going after Savage's neck. Again, it wasn't as fully fleshed out as it could have been, likely due to time constraints. When Savage retreats to the floor again, Steamboat rams him head-first into the guardrail and catapults him into the turnbuckle, busting him open. We get a callback to earlier in the match as well as another example of Savage's mastery of ring positioning when he tries to return to the ramp. Steamboat prevents him from escaping this time, but he positions himself in the ropes and pulls Steamboat out instead. Steamboat sunset flips his way back into the ring and unleashes a barrage of pin attempts, leading to Savage taking a swing at the referee to try to get himself disqualified. I think it would've worked better if the swing had preceded the pins, the idea being that Steamboat had to finish this as quickly as possible to prevent Savage from taking the cheap way out. In any event, Savage picks up the win with his murderdeathkill finisher: a reverse roll-up with a handful of tights.
Tier: 4. I've gone back and forth several times as to whether this or Mania is the best Savage/Steamboat match. Right now, I'm on Team Toronto. There's more emphasis on hatred and less on workrate, and George Steele is nowhere to be found. However, I do think the idea that Steamboat's temper cost him here and he won at Mania by sticking to wrestling is a bit overblown. He shows plenty of aggression at Mania (choking Savage and attacking him while he was tangled in the ropes), and he does plenty of wrestling here (his first offensive move is an armdrag). I would agree that Mania is more of a straight wrestling match, but it's a difference of degree rather than of kind. Regardless, this is a career performance from both men, Steamboat as the fired-up babyface and Savage the wily heel.
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Post by nintendologic on May 27, 2021 16:20:49 GMT -5
John Cena vs. Brock Lesnar (WWE, 4/29/12)
This is a match most people who saw it live will likely never forget. I know I won't. We start right out with ground and pound from Lesnar, which leads to the first thing in this match I've always had a problem with and always will. As far as I'm concerned, a referee should only stop a match for blood if he's going to call it off entirely. I get why they do it for business reasons, but it seems impossible to justify in kayfabe, especially in a no-DQ match that would end up having multiple ref bumps. The match has to stop when someone gets cuts but not when the referee gets knocked out? How the hell does that make any sense? And it wasn't even accidental blood since Brock was throwing slashing elbows with clear intent to open Cena up. Moving on, the interesting thing about this match is that it's paced more like an NFL game (with lengthy stretches of dead time punctuated by bursts of explosive violence) than a traditional pro wrestling match. But that's actually one of the match's strong points, as it shows that inaction can be just as enthralling as action. I'm at a point in my life where I have no real interest in watching Cena do anything other than sell and bleed, and his selling performance here is one for the ages. Not only does he put over the beating he's sustained, he carries himself like a doomed hero, hopelessly overmatched but defiant to the very end. Brock also does his part to keep things interesting, whether he's beckoning Cena to return to his feet, taunting the crowd, or simply surveying the carnage he's unleashed. One spot that's always stuck with me is Brock tumbling out of the ring after a jumping high knee attempt. He clutches his knee for a bit after he lands, but then he walks it off and starts laughing. At the time, it felt to me like he was saying "I ain't a fake pro wrestler, I don't do that limb selling bullshit." I later found out that he was genuinely worried he had blown out his knee, but I reject that reality and substitute my headcanon. Shortly afterward, we get the second thing from the match I will never accept: the ending. I've made my peace with it from a booking standpoint, but I think Cena's chain is an exceptionally silly example of Chekhov's gun (although I will grant that he really clocks Lesnar with it). Also, he makes some of the most ludicrous "fired up" faces in history before hitting the AA. I've never seen any of the movies Cena's been in, but I never would have pegged him as for the Hollywood type based on the acting ability he showed in the ring.
Tier: 4. Modern WWE is probably the most sterile and stage-managed wrestling to ever exist, so being able to generate a "This isn't supposed to be happening" atmosphere in that environment is an incredible accomplishment. This isn't a classically structured match by any means, but it is a must-see once-in-a-lifetime spectacle, like Hashimoto/Ogawa with a dash of Austin/Dude Love.
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Post by nintendologic on May 29, 2021 16:51:53 GMT -5
Mitsuharu Misawa vs. Jun Akiyama (AJPW, 2/27/00)
Like Misawa/Kobashi and Kobashi/Akiyama, this starts hot, is centered around body part work, and has a dramatic finish. It's paced so well at the outset that when the five-minute call came, I had to stop the video and check the progress bar because it felt like barely two minutes had passed. Truth be told, Misawa almost seems bored by the proceedings in the opening minutes. He dismissively swats away Akiyama's jumping knees and lays in his elbows even more than usual, like he wants to get this over with as quickly as possible. Akiyama gets the break he needs when he counters a diving reverse headbutt. Misawa comes down clutching his neck, foreshadowing the future direction of the match. Shortly afterward, Akiyama sends Misawa neck-first into the guardrail with a drop toehold. The key to that spot is that it cements Akiyama's advantage rather than giving it to him outright, making his eventual victory seem truly earned rather than based on a lucky break. He then commences a laser-focused assault on Misawa's neck, including a fireman's carry stun gun, a knee drop off the apron, and a piledriver on the floor, culminating in an exploder on the apron. You wish Misawa had shown more regard for his well-being, especially knowing how things turned out, but you can't question his commitment to getting the match over. Back in the ring, there's a lengthy stretch of Akiyama working over the neck with holds like a power stranglehold and a reverse cravate. It's good psychology in a vacuum, but the crowd clearly wasn't buying it. A clear example of the chickens coming home to roost with the devaluing of submissions in All Japan. Misawa regains control by backing Akiyama into the corner and nailing him in face first with a back elbow and then with a brutal-looking springboard dropkick. From there, this becomes a match of dueling body part work: Misawa's neck vs. Akiyama's face. Misawa really works the facelock, and Akiyama's eyeballs look like they're about to burst out of his skull at one point. A dropkick to Misawa on the top turnbuckle sends him to the floor and puts Akiyama back in control, and he continues the assault on the neck with a calf branding into the guardrail and a Gotch-style tombstone piledriver. He goes for another neck submission, and it looks like he won the crowd over with his dedication to the strategy because they actually react to it. Misawa counters a brainbuster attempt and follows with an absolutely disgusting knee drop that breaks Akiyama's nose. It looked like something Jumbo or Fuchi would have done to Kobashi or Kikuchi. The corner back elbow right to Akiyama's face was no picnic either. Fantastic sell job from Akiyama as his arm dangles lifelessly while Misawa tries to apply a double underhook for a tiger driver. Misawa continues to string together offense, but his rolling elbow doesn't have enough on it to put Akiyama down, and he falls prey to an exploder. He then pops up only to run into another exploder. He tries to pop up again but ends up theatrically collapsing. First he's Jumbo, now he's Kawada. You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain. A vertical drop brainbuster followed by a wrist-clutch exploder wins it for Akiyama.
Tier: 3. I'm increasingly of the view that a match hardly ever needs to go longer than 20 minutes and almost never needs to go longer than 30, but I surprisingly ended up wishing they had gone a few minutes longer because the closing stretch felt a bit too compressed. I'd always ranked this ahead of the 1998 Kobashi/Akiyama match by a clear if not overwhelming margin. This time, though, I'm inclined to give the nod to the Kobashi match by the slimmest of margins.
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Post by nintendologic on May 31, 2021 16:23:19 GMT -5
Cactus Jack vs. Paul Orndorff (WCW, 2/21/93)
We jump right in with Cactus interrupting Orndorff's backstage promo and going after him with a shovel. He had been carrying the shovel around for the past month, so it wasn't just a random MacGuffin introduced just to factor into the finish. The referee tries to take the shovel away, allowing Orndorff to gain the advantage by kicking Cactus in the head. I suppose the logic is that any foreign objects already at ringside like chairs and TV cables are fair game but introducing objects from the outside is a no-go. Anyway, what an offensive performance from Orndorff. All of his punches, kicks, and elbows look extra impactful. I don't know if he's just that good at throwing worked strikes or if Cactus asked him to really lay it in. Probably a little of both. Cactus performs one of the stupidest bumps in history when he does a sunset flip from the turnbuckle to the exposed concrete. At least it's treated as a gamechanger, as Cactus comes up clutching his lower back and Orndorff is in control for most of the remainder of the bout. There's a lady in the front row holding a crutch, and I keep expecting one of them to grab it and use it as a weapon. They take it to the entranceway, and Orndorf whips Cactus into the guardrail and sends him tumbling over onto the floor. That's actually what's supposed to happen with an Irish whip in kayfabe since bouncing off the ropes is technically a counter. In this case, it was done too close to the rail to do the counter, but Cactus is probably the only one nutty enough to take that bump, which is why it hardly ever happens. With Cactus on the floor, Orndorff rams his head into the rail and tears off his knee brace. The work on the leg provides the match with more depth than a pure brawl. Just as importantly, he works the leg the way you'd expect someone in a street fight to, trying to chop Cactus down with anything that isn't nailed down rather than wearing him down with submissions. At one point, Tony Schiavone says he doesn't have to describe the brutality on display, prompting Jesse Ventura to rant that describing the action is his job and he won't get paid if he doesn't do it. I remember Ventura randomly accusing Schiavone of beating his kids during the Sting/Vader strap match on the same card, so I wonder if there was some legitimate bad blood between the two. With the knee brace off, Orndorff applies a figure-four and grabs the ropes for extra leverage. The referee orders him to let go of the ropes, and Ventura observes (accurately) that he has no authority to make that call in a match with no disqualifications. Cactus punches his way out of the hold, but Orndorff clotheslines him out of the ring and drives his kneecap into the concrete. Cactus struggles to make it back in the ring, but Orndorff knocks him off the apron with the removed knee brace and he takes the Nestea plunge. Unlike in the 1990 Mascaras match, he sells it like a death blow, showing how much he's grown as a worker. Orndorff grabs a chair from ringside and takes it to Cactus' leg like a lumberjack swinging an ax before ramming in into his throat. He then signals for the piledriver, giving Cactus the opportunity to retrieve the shovel from ringside. What makes this work is that he mistakes the cheers for Cactus for cheers for his posing routine, allowing Cactus to steal the victory with a shovel to the face. The way Cactus desperately collapses on top of Orndorff because he can't execute a proper pin is a thing of beauty.
Tier: 4. This has as much nutty bumping as Sting/Cactus at Beach Blast, but unlike that match, it features high-end brawling as well. My favorite WCW Foley match.
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Post by nintendologic on Jun 1, 2021 18:55:39 GMT -5
Lex Luger vs. Ricky Steamboat (WCW, 7/23/89)
This was booked as a no-DQ match, but Luger demands the stipulation be waived and threatens to walk out if it isn't. Steamboat wants to get his hands on Luger and doesn't want to let the fans down, so he reluctantly agrees. I had always thought this was an example of a bait-and-switch done right. The match we got was almost certainly better than a no-DQ one would have been, and anyone who was hoping to see a wild brawl more than got their money's worth with Flair/Funk. However, I recently learned that it really was supposed to be a no-DQ match with Luger going over, but it got changed because Steamboat was in the middle of a contract dispute and refused to job unless he got a new deal. Another instance where I prefer my headcanon to reality. When Steamboat's early pin attempts don't work, he unloads with dropkicks and chops, sending Luger rolling to the outside. He continues the attack on the floor and rolls Luger back in since he can't win the title out there. Luger isn't worn down enough yet, though, so he catches Steamboat coming in with a knee lift. He takes it back outside and levels Steamboat with a short-range clothesline, but jaw-jacking with fans at ringside and rolling back in the ring to break the count gives Steamboat a chance to recover. He fires away with more chops and rams Luger's head into the table where the members of the Maryland state athletic commission are seated. After Luger regains control by nailing Steamboat in the gut coming off the top, he begins to target Steamboat's lower back with a picture-perfect running backbreaker followed by clubbing blows. After dropping some elbows on the back, Luger goes for a pin and argues with Tommy Young over the count when Steamboat kicks out. He goes for another pin and again demands that Young count faster, allowing Steamboat to roll him up from behind. For that, Young provides the faster count Luger wanted. Hell yeah. Now thoroughly enraged, Luger absolutely flattens Steamboat with a trio of clotheslines. It's normally the heel who pops up to feed the babyface, but I think it works better with the roles reversed because being knocked down repeatedly and refusing to stay down is a quintessential babyface trait. Steamboat fires back with chops, but Young channels his inner Gran Davis and grabs his arm to prevent him from throwing a punch, allowing Luger to sneak in a sucker punch of his own. One of the best things about this match is Luger periodically taking time to taunt the fans ("You like that, punk?") in between brutalizing Steamboat. After Steamboat gains an opening with a neckbreaker, we get a fantastic extended comeback as Luger escapes a bodyslam attempt but goes tumbling to the outside after Steamboat ducks a clothesline. Steamboat inflicts more punishment on the apron, but the earlier back work pays off as his back gives out when he tries to slam Luger back in. After another string of Steamboat offense has Luger reeling, he decides he's had enough and goes out to retrieve a chair like he did when he turned on Steamboat at the Clash the previous month. After catapulting Luger into the turnbuckle, Steamboat apparently loses his temper after being reminded of Luger's betrayal and hits him with the chair, drawing the disqualification. Young tries to take the chair away, but Steamboat tosses him off and he takes a MASSIVE bump (the biggest bump of the match, in fact) to the floor. Steamboat chases Luger to the back, so while he may not have won the match, he emerges as the moral victor.
Tier: 3. Amazing sprint. Both men lay their shit in and Steamboat sells his ass off as only he can. Because they work such a fast pace, the manage to fit so much into ten and a half minutes that it feels even longer in a good way. The best match of Luger's career in my book and right near the top for Steamboat as well.
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Post by nintendologic on Jun 3, 2021 19:24:15 GMT -5
Brock Lesnar vs. CM Punk (WWE, 8/18/13)
Paul Heyman declared on the pre-show that this had become a no-DQ match by mutual agreement. For Punk, this is what is known as a high variance strategy. It gives him more of a fighting chance, but it also increases the chances of him being squashed like a bug. The genius of this match is that both aspects come into play. Brock bullrushes Punk into the corner as soon as the bell rings, and Punk looks like a toddler throwing a tantrum in Brock's arms. After bieling Punk nearly all the way across the ring, Brock delivers some stomps in the corner and serves up some generic WWE trash talk ("This is my house!"). In the match's weakest transition, he backs off for no real reason, allowing Punk to land a kick to the head. Brock really is an amazing subtle seller, though. He doesn't bump big like Vader, but when he becomes wobbly-legged or goes to a knee, you get the same sense that he's been really rocked. I don't mean that as a criticism of either guy because I'm a huge fan of both. It just goes to show that there are usually multiple paths to the same destination. Punk's standard offense is mostly ineffective here, so he has to desperately fling himself at Brock to do any real damage. A flying knee knocks Brock out of the ring, and Punk follows up with a tope. He tries to use the ring stairs as a weapon, but Brock simply shoulder-checks the stairs back into him. That was incredibly badass. A Heyman distraction allows Brock to take firm control, and he places the cover of the announce table on Punk before doing a double foot stomp. That was a cool carny move because the visual of the cover splitting in half made it look extra impactful although it probably hurt less than a straightforward double stomp would have because the cover absorbed the brunt of the blow. In a spectacularly dickish overdog bully move, Brock prevents Punk from moving by stepping on his hand. We then get a few of minutes of Punk trying to fight his way out of a bearhug. That's not really the kind of thing I want to see in a no-holds-barred match even if the execution was on point (Brock catching Punk coming off the top and turning it into a fallaway slam was a particular highlight). However, it's paid off brilliantly when Punk finally turns the tide by biting Brock's ear. That's what WWE extreme rules matches should be about: Krav Maga techniques, not arranging furniture. Brock counters the GTS with a kimura, but Punk reverses into a cross armbreaker and then turns it into a triangle choke. Punk manages to hold on when Brock tries to powerbomb out, but Brock eventually breaks free with a running powerbomb. In the build to the match, Brock made a point of calling Punk a fake tough guy who wasn't in his league as a real fighter. But then Punk gets the better of him in MMA grappling and forces him to use a pro wrestling move to escape. Intentional or not, that's some great storytelling. Once he recovers, Brock does the three amigos just to be a dick and then heads to the outside to retrieve a chair. I've seen some questioning of this part of the match. After all, what the hell does Brock Lesnar need a chair for when he could kill us all with his bare hands? From my perspective, it showed just how much Punk had gotten under his skin by continuing to try to live. It ends up backfiring, though, as Punk comes up off the top and ends up using the chair himself. Brock soon overpowers Punk and grabs the chair back, leading to an ominous buzz in the crowd, but Punk again uses the rules (or lack thereof) to his advantage with a low blow. Heyman grabs the chair to prevent Punk from doing more damage with it, but Punk blocks an F5 attempt by grabbing Heyman's tie in a clever spot. Heyman breaks up the pin after the GTS (which Brock sells magnificently), and Punk gives chase only to run into an F5 attempt. He counters with a DDT and locks in the anaconda vice, but Heyman enters the ring with a chair to break it up. Punk locks in the vice on Heyman, but taking his eyes off the prize proves to be a fatal mistake as Brock lays into him with chair shots that sound like a cannon going off and gets the win with an F5 on the chair.
Tier: 3. This is the latest WWE match (and possibly the latest match period) I'd consider giving five stars to. There's a good chance it would have reached that level with blood and/or less Heyman involvement. Even so, this has just about everything you'd want from a match like this: smart transitions, great selling from both men, and hard-hitting action that hardly ever lets up. Likely the high point of both men's careers.
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Post by nintendologic on Jun 5, 2021 17:04:54 GMT -5
Kenta Kobashi/Jun Akiyama vs. Stan Hansen/Vader (AJPW, 12/5/98)
Burning manage to make it to the finals in their first RWTL as a team. Kobashi has yet to win the RWTL without Misawa and Akiyama never managed to win it even with him, so this is a necessary step in escaping from his shadow. Unfortunately for them, standing in their way is the seemingly unbeatable Hansen/Vader superteam that went undefeated in the league, including a victory over Burning. The key to this match, I think, is the difference in tag team synergy between the two squads. Hansen and Vader are actually a more cohesive unit despite having worked together for even less time. Of course, that's largely due to the need to hide Hansen's limitations at this stage of his career. He's nowhere near as explosive as he was in his prime, but he can still contribute by picking his spots and directing traffic. Kobashi and Akiyama, on the other hand, work mostly in isolation from each other. They're both elite singles competitors, but their lack of teamwork costs them dearly. From a match quality standpoint, though, Hansen and Vader are such amazing offensive wrestlers and Kobashi and Akiyama such amazing sellers that it mostly works. We see that right at the beginning when Vader knocks Kobashi on his ass with a clubbing blow. Not only does it put him down, he needs a break to shake the cobwebs from his head before reentering the fray. Kobashi trying and failing to get Vader up for a suplex is the kind of thing that gets a great reaction from the crowd (making a strength spot look like a genuine struggle always does) even if it doesn't make too much sense in light of Vader's propensity for letting guys even smaller than Kobashi throw him around. Akiyama tags in and manages to fend off a double-team, but he makes a fatal mistake when he attempts a Northern lights suplex on Vader. In one of the most shocking spots of its kind, Vader counters by bringing his weight down on Akiyama's neck. There are so many ways that could have ended badly. During the ensuing Akiyama-in-peril section, Hansen pulls Akiyama up from a pin attempt and points at Kobashi before punching him in the face a few times, perhaps trying to spur Kobashi to be more proactive. Coming in off the hot tag, Kobashi tries to suplex Vader again and nearly succeeds, but Hansen cockblocks him with a kick to the back. Hansen continues his attempt to spur Burning into action by knocking Akiyama off the apron while working Kobashi over. Akiyama finally starts to get the message, and he runs in to break up a Vader pin after a clothesline. Akiyama comes in for a hot tag of his own soon afterward, but the Northern lights suplex once again proves to be his undoing. Hansen blocks it with all his might and then nails Akiyama with a back elbow when he tries coming off the ropes. Vader lays waste to Akiyama with a German suplex, which is over as a death move thanks to the Inoki match. This compels Kobashi to get more involved, as he breaks up the pin and lays in a few extra licks afterward. Burning seemingly finally manages to find a chink in the armor when Akiyama sidesteps a Vader charge in the corner and dropkicks him in the knee before tagging out. Kobashi hits a knee dropkick of his own and follows it up with machine gun chops and a dragon screw. He finally manages to suplex Vader, but Hansen breaks up the pin and lays Kobashi out with a DDT before knocking Akiyama off the apron. Vader limps over and squashes Kobashi with a splash before tagging out, and with Akiyama seemingly indisposed, he and Hansen proceed to flatten Kobashi with splashes and elbow drops. When Akiyama revives and breaks up a pin, Hansen and Vader take him outside and put him out of commission seemingly for good with a DDT on the concrete. Finally some teamwork from Burning, but it looks to be too little too late. Hansen delivers some Tenryu-style soccer ball kicks to Kobashi's face and goes for a powerbomb, but Kobashi reverses and crawls to his corner to tag out. However, Akiyama is nowhere to be found, as he's still laid out on the floor. In a typical All Japan tag, that's the final harbinger of doom. Hansen runs into Kobashi from behind and manages a rather ugly-looking roll-up. To be honest, though, that's kind of what you want from someone like Hansen. You expect him to be spending his off time fighting in bars, not practicing pinning combinations. Vader and Hansen continue the double-team assault, and when Hansen signals for the lariat, the outcome looks to be a foregone conclusion. Just when all seems lost, though, Akiyama rises from the dead and ascends to the top turnbuckle. The key to this sequence is that Hansen has his back to the ring corner and is thus completely unaware. Vader tries to point it out, but this allows Kobashi to free himself from Vader's grasp and knock him to the floor. Akiyama hits Hansen from behind with a diving knee that sends him into a Kobashi lariat, allowing Burning to pick up the miracle win. Vader and Hansen laying Kobashi out after the match with Kobashi's music playing is a genuine laugh-out-loud moment. One of the young boys who tries to stop the rampage is Takeshi Morishima, making this the greatest match he's ever been involved in.
Tier: 3. A great match that manages to be great in a completely different way from a typical 90s All Japan tag. On the lower bound of what I would consider absolutely essential.
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Post by nintendologic on Jun 7, 2021 10:12:14 GMT -5
Vader vs. Keiji Mutoh (NJPW, 8/10/91)
I won't insult your intelligence by presenting "proto-Vader/Sting" as a profound original insight on my part since that's what everyone says about this match. But hey, if the shoe fits. It's a natural comparison since Mutoh and Sting are both athletic heavyweights who can fly around and bump big, making them close to the Platonic ideal for a Vader opponent. I don't think this is on the same level as the top Vader/Sting matches because Mutoh isn't as compelling as an underdog. His selling isn't as sympathetic, and his offense isn't as tinged with desperation. Also, there's no real sense of struggle or building of anticipation in his comeback. When he wants to come back, he just does it. However, that leads to an interesting dynamic where Mutoh's initial comebacks are fairly routine but Vader increasingly cuts him off as the match progresses. That's an inversion of the usual structure, but it works really well. The opening minutes are largely a stalemate as whenever one of them gains an advantage, the other rolls to the outside and the match resets. They break the pattern about five minutes in when a Vader tackle sends Mutoh tumbling to the outside. The difference is that Mutoh was knocked outside by a move rather than heading there of his own volition, allowing Vader to follow up. We unfortunately miss some brawling on the floor due to the footage going out, but we do see Vader ramming Mutoh into the ringpost. Vader makes a critical mistake by posing for the crowd before reentering the ring (if this were WCW, Jesse Ventura would say there's no money in bodybuilding), giving Mutoh enough time to recover and dropkick him off the apron. With Vader dazed, Mutoh follows up with a plancha and hits a handspring elbow on the guardrail. Back in the ring, Mutoh tries to grind the big man down with a headlock, but Vader powers out and clocks Mutoh with closed-fist punches that draw audible boos from the crowd. Shortly afterward, Mutoh flips out a vertical suplex attempt and lays into Vader with elbows. He's still not selling much during his comebacks, but he is noticeably slowing down. After backdropping Vader, he gets successive near falls off a missile dropkick and then a moonsault. He whips Vader into the corner and goes for another handspring elbow, but Vader counters with a half-German half-uranage that someone really needs to steal. It's at that point that the match really takes off. When Mutoh gets whipped into the corner, he does a really cool half-run half-stagger like he's out on his feet. With Mutoh on the ropes both literally and figuratively, Vader throws more illegal punches and draws more heel heat. After ducking a clothesline, Mutoh gets two off a backslide and follows it up with a small package. I always dig a story of a smaller wrestler going for desperate pin attempts because he can't last much longer in a slugfest. The ending is a bit curious. Vader appears to injure his leg after a running splash in the corner. He catches Mutoh coming off the top, but his leg gives out and Mutoh comes down on him for the pin. At least, that's what I think the idea was.
Tier: 3. This is the kind of match that doesn't feel like much in the early going but builds and builds until you realize you're watching a classic. Perhaps just as importantly, it feels like it got there organically rather than being deliberately constructed that way.
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Post by nintendologic on Jun 9, 2021 9:47:21 GMT -5
Stan Hansen vs. Toshiaki Kawada (AJPW, 2/28/93)
It's high time I defended this match from the baseless slanders in the nomination thread. The main criticism levied is that the action is mostly aimless, which I don't agree with at all. On the contrary, there's a clear sense of progression and escalation. They start out by clobbering each other with strikes. They start out by clobbering each other with strikes, and we see perhaps the purest expression of brawling as a claustrophobic affair. The guy on top is trying to smother his opponent while the guy on the bottom is doing everything he can to establish separation and create openings for him to fire back. I really like how technically sound Hansen's lateral presses are. He hardly ever hooks the leg and focuses on pinning his opponent's shoulders to the mat, which is what you'd do if you were trying to pin someone in a shoot. The action is largely back and forth, but all the transitions were smart and the gulf in size and experience between the two meant that any moments of Kawada in control were inherently tenuous. From there, we get some dueling leg work, which makes tactical sense for both men. For Kawada, chopping down the big man is an obvious strategy. Also, from a match quality standpoint, Hansen is far more willing to sell leg work than arm work, so that's the way to go if you need to eat up some time by working over a limb. Going after his lariat arm sounds good in theory, but it never meaningfully hinders him in practice. For Hansen, targeting the leg is both a way of neutralizing Kawada's kicks and a receipt for Kawada's leg work. Kawada puts on a clinic on recovering from having a leg worked on without blowing it off, as he stumbles around and gradually walks off the damage in between spurts of offense. Once the leg work runs its course, they return to striking but start incorporating more impact moves like slams and suplexes. Hansen even does a tope, which alone qualifies this match for greatness. He also does the best sell of a stretch plum I've ever seen. He looked like he was genuinely suffocating. Hansen asserts firm control with dirty tactics (an illegal punch followed by headbutts), and although the match does meander a bit from there, it kicks into high gear once he activates the lariat by adjusting his elbow pad. Hansen lariating Kawada so hard he knocks himself out of the ring is of course the spot of the match. If there is something the finishing stretch can be legitimately criticized for, it's that Kawada never looks to be a serious threat to put Hansen away and it's simply a question of how long he can delay the inevitable. The match-ending rabbit lariat more than makes up for that, though.
Tier: 3. One of the all-time classic slugfests. Haters to the left.
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