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Post by nintendologic on Jun 11, 2021 9:39:18 GMT -5
Mitsuharu Misawa/Jun Akiyama vs. Toshiaki Kawada/Akira Taue (AJPW, 12/6/96)
This is a match I've always thought was great but never viewed as a serious GOAT contender. It initially looks like it might be a cakewalk for Misawa's team when he hits a tiger driver less than three minutes in. Taue runs in to break up a second tiger driver attempt, enabling Kawada to tackle Misawa before tagging out. When Akiyama tries to come to Misawa's aid, Taue drops him throat-first on the top rope. However, he underestimates Akiyama's resilience, as he recovers in time to break up a super nodowa attempt. He then tags in and hits a dragon screw, but Kawada lays him out with a big boot. Taue lands a chokeslam but then starts feeling the effects of the dragon screw and has to tag out. That's the kind of attention to detail that shows why he's an all-time great. This unfortunately leads to a rather dull HDA control segment. They don't display much creativity or aggression, they just kind of take turns knocking Akiyama around. The low point comes after Kawada hits a brainbuster. Akiyama rolls to the outside to recover, and then...nothing. Time just stands still for half a minute. Neither Kawada nor Taue press the issue, and Misawa doesn't come to his partner's aid. Kawada does eventually head to the floor, but it's only to roll Akiyama back in. That's not very Dangerous K of him. Misawa's hot tag is disappointing as well, as he inexplicably goes for a facelock right off the bat. Thankfully, Taue is there to pick up the pace. He runs in to break it up, but Misawa sends him packing with an elbow and a spin kick. Kawada tags out after getting the better of a strike battle, and Taue lands an especially vicious stun gun, launching Misawa into the turnbuckle like a lawn dart. He then grinds his boot on Misawa's face. You know what, I'm starting to think that Taue may be the actual GOAT. He then goes for the apron nodowa, even raking the eyes, but Misawa fends him off with an elbow and tags out. He and Akiyama then work Taue over for several minutes while Kawada remains on the apron with his thumb up his ass not lifting a finger to help his partner. In the middle of a double-team sequence, Akiyama delivers a wake-up call to Kawada by knocking him off the apron. Akiyama lands an exploder on Taue, but Kawada runs in to prevent him from going for a pin as being cheap-shotted off the apron finally roused him from his slumber. Shortly afterward, he breaks up a tiger driver attempt and unceremoniously dumps Akiyama out of the ring when he tries to intervene. After a Kawada knee drop on Misawa, Taue comes down with a CM Punk-tier diving elbow drop. Taue going up top is like a dog walking on its hind legs: you don't expect it to be done well, but you're impressed to see it done at all. Misawa reverses a powerbomb with a hurricanrana, but Kawada drops him with a big boot before he can make the tag. Misawa comes back with a running elbow and sends Kawada ass over teakettle with a relase German. Kawada's sell job is so beautiful, it belongs in a museum. Taue breaks up the pin after a tiger driver and tries to drop Akiyama by his throat again, but he has it scouted now and manages to block. He and Misawa then send Taue to the floor with a double-team assault. The crowd picks up noticeably at this point as they suspect it may be curtains for Kawada with his muscle out of commission. Misawa and Akiyama run a German suplex train on Kawada, and he pops up and does a semi-comical stumble to the floor. In an interesting inversion of the May match between the two teams, Misawa and Akiyama make a fatal mistake by writing Taue off as a nonfactor instead of making sure he's completely out of it. As a result, he's able to turn the tide for his team when he breaks up a tiger suplex 85 and puts Misawa down with a running neckbreaker drop. When Akiyama comes in, Taue doesn't risk going for the throat drop again and instead crotches him on the top rope in an ugly spot that nearly goes awry. It actually looks to be a minor miracle that Akiyama didn't tear his groin. In any event, with Misawa indisposed, Taue finally succeeds in killing Akiyama dead with an apron nodowa. Misawa turns the tables with a running elbow and tries to tag out, but Akiyama is nowhere to be found. Taue again attempts an apron nodowa on Misawa, but Akiyama has just enough left in him to run interference by grabbing Taue's leg. Kawada, who has also recovered by this point, swats him away, but Misawa again fends Taue off. He rolls back in the ring and again tries to tag out, but Akiyama once again isn't there. The key is that Akiyama trying to protect Misawa from the apron nodowa is what put him out of position, raising the question if the outcome would have been different if he had simply stayed in his lane and waited for the tag. Misawa realizes that he'll have to go it alone at this point, and his valiant last stand is one for the ages. Just when it looks like he might actually pull off the miracle comeback, Kawada ducks a rolling elbow and dumps him on his head with a dangerous backdrop. The match continues for a few more minutes, but that's effectively the final dagger, the equivalent of Malcolm Butler picking off Russell Wilson at the goal line. There's an oddly poignant moment near the end when Taue holds Akiyama up for an enzuigiri and it looks like a pieta.
Tier: 4. Not only is this nowhere near #1 for me, I think I'm more down on it than ever. The back half is transcendent, but you can excise the first fifteen minutes or so and hardly lose anything of value. This isn't anywhere near as good as the May match, let alone 6/9/95. For all the interpretation of this match as a story of Kawada's redemption, I thought his performance was a letdown outside of a couple of world-class sell jobs. If anything, my main takeaway is that this is Taue's world and we're all just living in it. But you already knew that.
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Post by microstatistics on Jun 11, 2021 17:03:16 GMT -5
I agree with the point about the relatively pedestrian action in 12/6/1996. Sleeze's review of the match is pretty interesting since he notes Misawa's refusal to go for a tag earlier on and arrogant attempt to finish it off on his own are what put him in the precarious 2 on 1 position later on. That, alongside Taue the worldbeater, makes for a far more compelling potential narrative than another Kawada redemption tale.
I feel the traditional Kawada-centric assessment of these matches is quite reductive. Ironically, if you view this match through the Kawada lens, that hurts it even more since he looks like a complete chump, getting mauled by Misawa yet again and needing Taue to serve the win on a silver platter.
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Post by Cap on Jun 11, 2021 17:09:32 GMT -5
You mean to upload? Yes, I do.
EDIT: They're both up.
Sorry so late on this. I have been all over the place with my wrestling-related attention lately. Thanks!
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Post by nintendologic on Jun 13, 2021 22:01:07 GMT -5
Mitsuharu Misawa vs. Akira Taue (AJPW, 4/15/95)
Taue goes for snake eyes right off the bat, but Misawa blocks. Of all the pairings of the Pillars, I think Misawa and Taue might have the best counter/reversal sequences. Taue is the least graceful of the group as well as the least adept striker, so he tends to focus on blocking and dodging his opponent's offense rather than going blow for blow. Kawada might counter a Misawa flying lariat by kicking him in midair, but Taue just drives his face into the mat. The beauty of Misawa rolling to the outside when his eye is targeted from a match construction standpoint is that it's a double-edged sword. It gives him the space he needs to recover, but it also puts him in position for Taue's ace in the hole: the apron nodowa. It also sets him up for Taue's absurd topes. Like the flight of the bumblebee, it shouldn't be possible according to the laws of physics. Misawa applies a facelock after hitting a flying lariat, evidently not wanting to expose his injured eye in standup. However, this strategy ends up backfiring when Taue escapes by clawing Misawa's face and applies a facelock of his own. Misawa has things going his way for a while after countering a dynamic bomb, but Taue asserts control by gouging Misawa's eyes and raking his boot across the orbital bone. In an impressive show of attention to detail, Taue hits a straitjacket snake eyes since Misawa had the standard version scouted. A dropkick sends Misawa outside, and Taue backdrops him to the floor when he tries to return to the ring. He then goes for the apron nodowa, but Misawa fends him off with a vicious elbow. He then gets a nice run of offense culminating in a tiger driver attempt. Taue makes the ropes, so Misawa turns it into a vertical suplex only to end up suplexed onto the apron himself. A chop to Misawa's eye gives Taue the best chance he'll ever have to land the apron nodowa, and he makes it count. Taue dramatically breaking Misawa's grip on the ropes before chokeslamming him to the floor is one of the iconic visuals of 90s All Japan. However, the damage recently done by Misawa leaves him unable to fully capitalize. It takes him forever to get Misawa back into the ring, and when he does, they're close enough to the ropes for Misawa to get a rope break on the pin attempt. That right there is how you get out of an ultra-finisher while still protecting it. We then get probably the greatest extended comeback in wrestling history. Every aspiring babyface should study the last eight minutes of the match and note how Misawa creates space with his elbows, avoids Taue's big bombs, and gradually turns the tide. Truly a master at work. Taue desperately lunging at Misawa's eyes at the end when he senses the match slipping away is another classic moment. I do think that the first tiger suplex should have ended the match. Having Taue kick out only for Misawa to immediately get the win with a second one felt anticlimactic.
Tier: 3. Basing a match around an eye injury is pretty silly if you think about it. I mean, clawing an opponent's eyes and grinding your boot on his face should be effective even if he doesn't have a broken orbital bone. Still, you could hardly ask for a better structured match than this. Another feather in the cap of the GOAT. Misawa wasn't too shabby either.
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Post by nintendologic on Jun 14, 2021 18:27:13 GMT -5
Mitsuharu Misawa/Kenta Kobashi vs. Toshiaki Kawada/Akira Taue (AJPW, 6/9/95)
Apologies to anyone who was hoping for a more detailed write-up, but I decided before I began this project that this is the one match I wasn't going to write War and Peace to shill. If you're reading this, you're almost certainly well acquainted with this match. And if you don't love it, nothing I write is going to change your mind because it's probably the epitome of a match that sells itself. I'll just say that it remains the greatest match I've ever seen and likely ever will see. And Taue chokeslamming Misawa onto Kobashi's leg is the greatest spot of all time.
Tier: Take a wild guess.
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Post by nintendologic on Jun 18, 2021 13:00:47 GMT -5
Kensuke Sasaki vs. KENTA (NOAH, 7/18/08)
After a string of legendary acclaimed matches, this is more of a dark horse pick. I'm not exceptionally high on either of these guys, but this is a perfect example of styles making fights. Sasaki is a natural as the meathead bully, and KENTA is just as natural as the scrappy underdog who takes a beating and gives as good as he gets. They lock up to start, and Sasaki muscles KENTA into the ropes and gives him a clean break. This can be seen as a sportsmanlike gesture or a show of disrespect, as if your opponent isn't enough of a threat to warrant a cheap shot. KENTA opts for the latter interpretation and slaps Sasaki on the next rope break. From there, we go into the striking. For me, two things can really elevate a strike battle beyond the mundane. One is a clear sense of hierarchy. Sasaki is unquestionably a heavier hitter than KENTA, and both men sell accordingly. The second is the judicious use of rope running spots. Coming off the ropes for momentum adds extra oomph to your attacks but also runs the risk of propelling yourself into your opponent's offense, as we see when KENTA runs right into a Sasaki lariat. This leads to a king of the mountain segment as Sasaki gorilla presses KENTA to the floor Sid-style and introduces him to various guardrails. After bringing KENTA back in the hard way with a suplex, he continues the punishment with chops and stomps. KENTA tries to fire back with kicks, and there's a clear progression in Sasaki's selling. Whether it's due to KENTA laying it in more or the cumulative impact of the prior blows he's absorbed (or both), Sasaki can't simply shrug the kicks off and has to cut KENTA off by grabbing his leg before slapping him down. After a few more minutes of abuse, KENTA finally catches a break when he catches Sasaki with a powerslam. He manages a nice string of offense and goes for an octopus hold which forces Sasaki to scramble for the ropes. I'm not aware of KENTA ever winning a match with an octopus hold, but both he and Sasaki try to treat it like a legitimate finisher. In a spectacular overdog spot, Sasaki reasserts control by picking KENTA up like a parent dragging a tantrum-throwing toddler out of a store and bullrushing him into the corner. KENTA thwarts a Sasaki lariat by kicking his arm on the wind-up and chops him down with a barrage of clotheslines of his own. When he goes for the GTS, Sasaki escapes and goes for the NLB only for KENTA to slip out and finally lock in the octopus hold, an awesome sequence that deserved a better reaction than the one it got from the audience. One detail that I only noticed on this most recent viewing is that KENTA's kick temporarily compromised Sasaki's arm, forcing him to forgo striking and instead go for power moves like a superplex. KENTA hitting the GTS ends up being a great near fall because it looked to me like he didn't quite hit it flush, resulting in it not being quite as impactful. Sasaki eventually closes it out with a pair of lariats and a NLB.
Tier: This is a match that fills a specific niche for me. It's one of the few tough guy clubbering contests that's worked intelligently enough to be fulfilling even if it never reaches a dramatic crescendo. I doubt it'll make it out of my bottom ten.
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Post by nintendologic on Jun 22, 2021 19:08:24 GMT -5
Hiroshi Tanahashi vs. Kazuchika Okada (NJPW, 4/7/13)
In the early going, Tanahashi has a surprising chip on his shoulder for a guy who's the defending champion. He's chippy on rope breaks, and he tries to hit Okada with a rainmaker and even even does a rainmaker pose of his own. I guess he's tired of dealing with this young punk who he thought he had put in his rear-view mirror. Okada by this point is well-acquainted with how leg work is the linchpin of Tanahashi's strategy, and he shows he's done his homework when he sidesteps a low dropkick and then shows it wasn't a fluke when he blocks a dragon screw attempt. Thus rebuffed, Tanahashi decides to target Okada's rainmaker arm instead, beginning with a Fujiwara armbar. He then simply drives Okada's arm into the mat, which I thought was a cool carny move. It made a nice loud sound, probably didn't hurt much if at all, and got a good reaction from the crowd. That's pro wrestling in a nutshell. After more work on the arm, Okada heads to the ropes for a breather. They duke it out on the apron, and the damage to Okada's arm hinders his ability to fight back effectively. However, leg work is seemingly so deeply ingrained in Tanahashi's muscle memory that he can't help himself from going after Okada's leg again, which Okada escapes and follows with a DDT on the apron. That would be the first crucial mistake that would end up costing Tanahashi the match. Back in the ring, Okada targets Tanahashi's neck with a series of lucha-style llaves. Of particular note is a hold where Okada pulls Tanahashi's arms back like a surfboard and then flips over to put his body weight on Tanahashi's neck. He fails in his first few attempts to get over, leading to derisive laughter from the crowd. When he finally succeeds, he has a smug "I meant to do that" look on his face. Great character work as well as a great way of turning lemons into lemonade. Tanahashi finally rebuffs the assault by going back after the arm, and in a touch of irony, Okada cuts him off with a dragon screw of his own. The action spills to the outside, and Okada realizes the predicament he's in and swings for the fences with a tombstone on the floor. This backfires in a major way, however, as Tanahashi blocks by ramming him into the guardrail and does even more damage to the arm by ramming it into the ringpost. Once they make it back in, Okada collapses to the mat in pain whenever he tries to throw an elbow and gives Tanahashi openings to go after the arm even more. To give himself a fighting chance, Okada moves his elbow pad over to his injured arm. The way he sells the arm during the rainmaker pose is reminiscent of Rick Rude, which is the highest possible praise for a wrestler. One of the best aspects of this match is how organic the counters are. When Tanahashi counters heavy rain with a sling blade or Okada counters a high fly flow with a dropkick, those are moves they would have gone for anyway rather than moves done specifically to be countered. In a nice example of attention to detail, Tanahashi hits a straitjacket suplex and then sells the impact of the bridge on his worked-over neck. Okada finally hits the rainmaker, but the damage to his arm prevents him from making the cover. Tanahashi reverses the tombstone into a pin attempt, but Okada turns it around into red ink. He really cranks it in, even turning the chinlock into a crossface, before Tanahashi makes the ropes. I would have liked to have seen his arm give out during the hold, but that's a minor nitpick. Okada realizes he needs his arm at full force to pull out the win, further damage be damned, so he jettisons the elbow pad entirely at this point. Because his legs haven't been worked over, he's still fresh down the stretch after blocking the high fly flow with his knees. Tanahashi makes his second critical mistake at the end. He counters a rainmaker with a wristlock, but rather than continuing the assault on the arm, he goes for a tombstone. Okada reverses and hits a tombstone of his own followed by a second rainmaker for the win. Tanahashi's contempt for his opponent caused him to take his eye off the ball and make a fatal error.
Tier: 3. I've largely soured on modern New Japan, but this still holds up as a masterpiece. Some of Okada's arm selling was a bit too performative, and the match started to lose steam down the stretch before the finish. Even so, this is my pick for best ever IWGP title match.
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Post by nintendologic on Jun 26, 2021 15:32:42 GMT -5
Bret Hart vs. Steve Austin (WWF, 11/17/96)
The opening minutes are mainly mat-based with an edge. Austin goes for cheap shots in the ropes, and both men try to yank the opponent's arm out of its socket while applying a wrislock. That's a move more wrestlers should incorporate into their repertoire. The first real turning point comes nearly seven minutes in when Austin hits the stun gun (Bret always loved using rope-running spots as transitions). From there, we get a beautiful sustained assault on an Bret's neck and upper chest region, largely centered around illegal use of the ring ropes. It's not quite as high-end as Akiyama's attack in the 2000 Misawa match, although it is much safer. Bret punches his way out of a chinlock, and we get our first punch flurry of the match. Austin wins the battle with a boot to the midsection and follows it up by stomping a mudhole in the corner. After Bret reverses a whip into the other corner, he gets a nice run of offense before Austin counters a bulldog attempt by shoving him into the corner (with Bret taking his trademark sternum-first bump). Neither man is able to gain a sustained advantage for the next several minutes, but Bret's back opens up as a target after he tumbles into the guardrail. In an incredible display of tactical acumen, Austin rolls to the other side of the ring to establish separation after Bret rolls him in and then catapults Bret into the Spanish announce table. Having regained control, he launches a two-pronged assault on the back and the upper chest. Jaw-jacking with the referee after being forced to release an abdominal stretch when he's caught using the ropes for leverage gives Bret a necessary breather, and he makes the most of it when he comes out on top after a second punch flurry and then lands a stun gun of his own. Austin rolls over to his knees to avoid being put in a pinning predicament, but Bret catches him with a rather ugly Oklahoma roll. Amazing psychology and technique even if the execution was a little off. Bret attempts his diving pointed elbow, going all the way to the top rather than coming off the second rope like he usually does. It's not like him to go for a non-standard move for the specific purpose of being countered, but I guess he wanted to do the Dynamite Kid/Randy Savage spot and that was the best way to set it up. Austin's top rope superplex takes a lot out of both men, and Bret not having his wits fully about him enables Austin to hit the stunner out of nowhere. Austin can't make the immediate cover due to being drained himself, and Bret has enough presence of mind to roll to the corner. Austin pulls Bret toward the center of the ring before making the cover, and he kicks out at two. Awesome sequence that puts Bret over as a ring general while still protecting Austin's finisher. Austin then returns to the back, locking in a Texas cloverhold and then a bow and arrow hold. Bret reverses the latter into a sharpshooter attempt, but Austin makes the ropes. Austin reaches deep into his arsenal and applies a million dollar dream, and we all know how it ends.
Tier: 2. You could hardly ask for a better technical chess match than this. The bad blood between the two boils over on several occasions, but both men remain committed to going for pin attempts and breaking down body parts rather than simply beating the opponent into a state of incapacitation. The crowd clearly wanted to see more of a brawl, but the goal was to get Austin over as a top-flight wrestler. Sometimes you have to sacrifice the short-term pop for the sake of the big picture. The only thing keeping this out of undisputed tier 1 status is the lack of any real escalation of violence. For now, I'll be conservative and put it in tier 2.
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Post by nintendologic on Jul 1, 2021 14:52:31 GMT -5
John Cena vs. Umaga (WWE, 1/28/07)
At New Year's Revolution, Cena defended the title against Umaga and escaped with a fluke roll-up. So Raw GM Jonathan Coachman, who hates Cena because reasons, not only grants Umaga a rematch but allows Armando Estrada to pick the stipulation: a Last Man Standing match. And he has injured ribs to boot. Giving the hero obstacles to overcome is Storytelling 101, but stacking the deck to that degree feels like overkill. Questionable setup aside, the genius of this match is twofold. First, Umaga's gimmick may be in poor taste, but it works to the match's benefit because it means we get far more straightforward brawling than is usual in a WWE gimmick street fight. It would make no sense for an atavistic wild man to construct elaborate arrangements of furniture, so we don't get anything more complicated than setting up the ring steps in the corner. Second, Cena is presented as clearly outmatched physically and can only get anything going by using the environment to his advantage and his opponent's momentum against him. In this match at least, he's more John McClane than John Rambo. Cena comes out throwing rights, but Umaga cuts him off with a shot to his taped-up ribs. A babyface with a rib injury is probably the strongest hook for a LMS match since it allows basic offense to put him down for the count while not excessively hindering him during his comebacks. Pretty soon, Cena's scrambling up the ramp to create necessary space for him to go back on the attack. He rocks Umaga with some punches, but ramming him into the apron has no effect due to his rock-hard Samoan head (ugh). Cena cuts off a corner charge by putting his feet up, the same move that set up his roll-up at NYR. But there are no pinfalls in this match, so Cena rushes in and gets leveled by a clothesline. Whether intentional or not, it's a callback to the previous match that shows how the stipulation puts Cena at a disadvantage. When Umaga goes out to introduce the steps into the ring during a ten-count, Cena uses his craftiness to make a comeback. He drops Umaga to the floor with a hangman attack and then chucks the steps at him from the ring. Cena might be the only wrestler in history who can make lifting the steps look like a believable strongman spot. Umaga regains control with a spinning heel kick and goes back to the ribs with a bearhug. Cena sells Umaga's punches and other strikes beautifully, stumbling around like Sangre Chicana in the first fall of a hair match. After a throwback and five knuckle shuffle on the steps, Cena attempts an FU. But Umaga's weight is too much and he collapses, ramming his head into the steps and busting himself open. In perhaps my favorite moment from the match, Cena makes an adrenaline-fueled comeback, even punching his bloody forehead to pump himself up...only to run right into a Samoan drop. You hardly ever see a comeback from a top babyface shut down so emphatically. It was reminiscent of Samuel L. Jackson getting eaten by a shark right after delivering an inspirational speech in Deep Blue Sea. After several false starts, Cena finally gains firm control when he sidesteps an Umaga running splash on the announce table. Estrada undoes the top turnbuckle so Umaga can use the connecting rod as a Samoan spike, but Cena again thinks on his feet and we get the classic finish where he puts Umaga's lights out with a rope-assisted STFU.
Tier: 3. If there's anything I could fault this match for, it's that Cena never really seemed on the verge of defeat, due in large part to the absurdly slow WWE ten-counts (at one point, he got up at the referee's count of 7 where something like 28 seconds had passed in real time). But that's a minor complaint when the action is this good. Not only is this the best ever WWE gimmick match, it's probably the best possible WWE gimmick match.
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Post by nintendologic on Jul 6, 2021 14:58:24 GMT -5
Shawn Michaels vs. Mankind (WWF, 9/22/96)
This is probably the easiest sell of all of Shawn's matches due to being both high-profile and close to universally beloved. Mankind clotheslines Shawn out of the ring at the first opportunity, but his attempt to pull back the padding on the floor backfires when Shawn dropkicks him onto the exposed concrete and then stomps on him while he's trapped under the mat (very clever spot). After a nice run of offense back in the ring, Shawn decides he doesn't get paid by the hour and tunes up the band, but Mankind powders to the outside. Shortly afterward, we get the worked tantrum spot, which leads to some scrapping that ends with Mankind dumping Shawn back to the floor. Mankind follows Shawn outside and moves the Spanish announce table, which serves no immediately obvious purpose but would play a role in the finishing stretch. Shawn gains the upper hand and drives Mankind's leg into the ring steps with a suplex. He then catches Mankind with a chop block and drives his knee into the casket he brought to the ring. Mankind punches his way out of a figure four, but Shawn maintains his focus on the leg with a low dropkick and a half crab. After countering a hurricanrana attempt by dropping Shawn throat-first onto the ropes, Mankind tries to regain feeling in his leg by stabbing it with a pen. I really liked his running knee in the corner and the tree of woe elbow drops, but his attack during this part of the match was pretty bland overall. That's why I think Foley is a notch below the absolute elite when it comes to brawling. He was a fantastic seller and bumper, but his offense wasn't top tier when he didn't have weapons at his disposal. Speaking of selling, he does a pretty amazing job of hobbling around on his bad leg, trying to fight through the pain while still registering the damage that had been done. That effort ends up being for naught when he rams his leg into the steps while going for a running knee on the outside. That's probably the most reliable way to make leg work meaningful in singles matches: you get your leg worked over, you gradually walk off the damage, something happens to re-aggravate the injury, repeat as necessary. Shawn goes on the attack during the trademark Foley hangman spot, but Mankind catches him with the mandible claw. He applies another mandible claw on the outside, but Shawn escapes by sending him into the guardrail. Then, while Paul Bearer has his referee distracted, he takes a chair to both Mankind's leg and his claw hand. He does further damage by punching the hand, stomping on it, and slamming it into the mat. One important detail that's often overlooked is that Mankind doesn't throw a single punch after having his hand destroyed. He instead starts going for wrestling moves, including a double-arm DDT, a piledriver, even a Horowitz cradle. Chekhov's gun finally goes off when Mankind tries to suplex Shawn from the top turnbuckle onto the Spanish announce table, but Shawn reverses it into a crossbody. For some reason, the main thing that stands out to me from that spot is the guy in the Penny Hardaway jersey going nuts in the front row. Sadly, the ending drags this match down quite a bit. Part of the problem is the fact that they booked themselves into a corner. Mankind couldn't win the title, but he also couldn't be pinned before Undertaker got his revenge, so some kind of schmoz finish was inevitable. The even bigger problem is that Vader appeared to have missed his cue for the run-in. You can see Shawn take an eternity to make the cover after hitting SCM, and Earl Hebner tries his best to count as slowly as possible, but it's to no avail. Needless to say, the big man didn't exactly crown himself in glory during his time in the Fed. At least he'll always have the Sting matches.
Tier: 3. This match's reputation is well-deserved. The action and psychology are top-notch, and while it was clearly extensively laid out beforehand, most of the big moments are creative without feeling overly contrived. Other than the ending and a handful of spots that were perhaps too clever for their own good, the only real knock on this match is that neither guy ever seemed close to being put away until the very end. If this isn't the greatest WWE title match of all time, it's undoubtedly in the top five.
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Post by nintendologic on Jul 10, 2021 21:05:37 GMT -5
Rock & Roll Express vs. Midnight Express (WCW, 2/25/90)
Before the match, Stan Lane introduces Jim Cornette as "the man who stole Ivana away from Donald Trump." I'll bet Cornette doesn't look back too fondly on that today. In classic Southern fashion, the match starts out with a lengthy stretch of Morton and Gibson looking good at Lane and Eaton's expense. What makes it even better is that it was almost all action with a minimum of cheap heat tactics like stalling and posing. The main issue is that the R&Rs seemed content with making the MX look like stumblebums and made no real attempt to cut off the ring or even prevent them from tagging out. Come on, at least work the arm a bit or something. I did like how Lane and Eaton seemed to dial up the aggression in response to being shown up repeatedly. After falling victim to a double-team attack, Lane sends Morton to the outside and tries to ram him into the post only to be sent into the post himself. Shortly afterward, Eaton and Morton get into a slugfest that spills to the outside, leading to the MX taking control when Lane slams Morton onto the floor. I greatly prefer that kind of gradual escalation to simply going from 0 to 60 at the drop of a hat. One of the interesting things about the Morton FIP segment is the relative dearth of hope spots. There are few spots where he goes for a pin and gets thwarted, but there are hardly any where he tries to make a tag and gets cut off. It's closer to a Japanese tag match than a Southern one in that regard. There is a nifty sequence where Lane goes for a tag only to realize that Morton is on the verge of tagging out himself, runs over to cut Morton off, and knocks Gibson off the apron. Speaking of Gibson, he does a fantastic job as the apron man. In addition to breaking up a few pins where it looks like Morton might not be able to kick out, he makes sure to disrupt the MX's illegal tactics. Logically speaking, if you're on the receiving end of a 2-on-1 beatdown, you should need your partner to bail you out periodically. That's why the one save rule is such a detriment to tag team wrestling. Things do drag a bit after the MX start working Morton's arm since it felt like they were doing it mainly so that the shine and heat would be of roughly equal length. Things that mainly serve to pad match length almost never work to its benefit, and this is no exception. In an impressive display of managerial acumen, Cornette directs Eaton to tag out after a noggin knocker spot. Earlier in the match, he smoothed things over between Lane and Eaton when they nearly came to blows after a miscommunication spot. It's always nice to see managers make contributions beyond simply cutting promos and interfering. Morton makes the tag after a rocket launcher misses, and Gibson is a house of fire before being cut off by probably the best racket shot of Cornette's career. It sounded like a cannon going off. The ending is unfortunately botched (Morton was supposed to break up the double flapjack but was late to the punch), but it's minor enough that a viewer who wasn't playing close attention likely wouldn't notice.
Tier: 4. This is probably the definitive match between these two teams, which alone makes it a must-watch. Some more urgency from the R&Rs in the first half and a few minutes shaved off the FIP segment would elevate this to tier 3.
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Post by nintendologic on Jul 12, 2021 13:16:32 GMT -5
Mitsuharu Misawa/Toshiaki Kawada vs. Jumbo Tsuruta/Akira Taue (AJPW, 11/29/91)
This is the last 2-on-2 match between these teams, and it's easily the best of the bunch in my view. Jumbo sets the tone right away when he muscles Misawa into the ropes and tries to sucker punch him in his injured eye but is rebuffed. Some elbows and a reverse tope send Jumbo to the floor, and Misawa catches him with a plancha. After an All Japan surfboard spot to kill some time, Taue tags in and is met with a thunderous chorus of boos. It's unreal how much crowds hated him around this time. They might boo Jumbo's underhanded tactics while cheering him overall, but they seemed to boo Taue's very existence. Kawada hits a powerbomb early, but Jumbo breaks up the pin. When the crowd boos in response, he gives them a "hey, what do you want me to do" gesture. Jumbo is so damn great. Taue whips Kawada into the corner and tries to catch him with a facebuster on the rebound, but he misjudges the distance and has to awkwardly alter his trajectory. He then tap-dances over to his corner to tag out. Needless to say, Taue was far from a natural. Jumbo comes in and pulverizes Kawada's midsection with the mother of all kitchen sinks, which Kawada sells like someone shot him in the stomach with a cannonball. His selling of Jumbo's elbows to the gut is just as brilliant as he collapses in the ropes and gasps for breath. In another example of Taue being not quite ready for prime time, Jumbo signals for him to be ready before dumping Kawada to the floor since he couldn't be trusted to know what to do on his own. In fairness, no one who does a stomach claw in a 90s All Japan match, which Taue does while driving his knee into Kawada's throat, can be all bad. Also, the way Taue shook his fist before peppering Kawada with body blows felt very Memphis. Jumbo's abdominal stretch here is a work of art. First he tries to crush Kawada's head like a grape, then he grinds his knuckle into Kawada's ribs. Soon after the hot tag, Misawa applies a chinlock to Taue, which serves a storyline purpose by allowing Jumbo to sock him in his injured eye while his hands were occupied. I would have liked for him to have run wild a bit more beforehand, though. Taue follows it up by clawing Misawa's eyes, showing he has some sound instincts even if it took him a while to put it all together. Misawa is forced to tag out, but he and Kawada maintain the advantage. A few minutes later, Misawa hits a tiger driver, but Jumbo again breaks up the pin. Misawa then applies a facelock, which again allows Jumbo to tee off on his eye. This time, Taue tags out first, and now it's open season on Misawa's face. Team Jumbo's eye work is downright nasty (in particular, Jumbo grinding his knuckle into Misawa's eye socket before throwing a punch was deliciously evil), and Misawa sells it like someone threw acid in his face. He seemed to be a more demonstrative seller as the rising star than as the ace. While all this is going on, Kawada remains on the apron not doing much more than throwing his hands up in frustration. The problem with the Misawa/Kawada team is that neither man was all that assertive about coming to his partner's aid even in the face of blatant illegal tactics. It's a big part of why their matches against the Miracle Violence Connection were such a slog. Kawada finally interjects to kick Jumbo in the middle of a backdrop, preventing him from making the immediate cover and saving Misawa's bacon. Late in the match, Kawada has Taue in a sleeper and Jumbo looks poised to intervene if need be. Taue makes the ropes but Jumbo runs over to get a lick in anyway, which I found amusing. In the closing stretch, Misawa finally gets Jumbo in the facelock, but Taue breaks it up. He manages to lock it in again while Kawada has Taue restrained, but this time Jumbo escapes by gouging his eye. He then goes for another backdrop, but Misawa reverses it into a crossbody. There's less than 30 seconds left by this point, so all they can do is tee off on each other until time expires.
Tier: 4. You could hardly ask for a better tag league match than this. Managing to pull off a time-limit draw while never telegraphing it is an incredible feat. Taue's awkwardness and Kawada's reticence really jump out at you once you notice them, though.
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Post by nintendologic on Jul 15, 2021 16:24:39 GMT -5
Aja Kong vs. Manami Toyota (AJW, 8/20/97)
Full disclosure: I originally had the Big Egg Universe match in this spot. It had been a long-time favorite of mine, and I figured it would be a lock for my list. However, it ended up falling somewhat flat for me on my most recent viewing. That inspired me to revisit the 1997 match between the two, and I found it to be superior in just about every way. The submission work is more compelling, the counters are better, the selling is better, and the finishing stretch is more dramatic. It also has more standout moments. I find myself increasingly gravitating toward matches that provide moments that stick with me rather than being simply well-structured and well-paced. The 1997 match had more or less been in my #101 slot for a while, so it seems fitting that it would work its way onto my list by supplanting the 1994 one. In a surprising inversion of the usual pattern of these two, Aja jumps Toyota at the bell and hits a German suplex. She doesn't get much of a bridge, but that's not exactly her wheelhouse. After some more quick offense, Aja applies a facelock, which Toyota tries to escape by grabbing Aja's ears and then her nose. Aja turns it over into a camel clutch and takes advantage of Toyota's inhuman flexibility by bending her in half like the bed kill in Freddy vs. Jason. Toyota escapes by biting Aja's hand, but that only earns her a temporary reprieve. She tries to block a Boston crab by grabbing Aja's legs (I love how she struggles against the holds rather than just lying there and screaming), but to no avail, and Aja again exploits Toyota's flexibility by basically sitting on her head in the crab. Toyota tries to counter that move Aja does where she whips her opponent into the ropes and beats her chest like a gorilla before hitting a tackle with a rolling cradle, but Aja reverses into an abdominal stretch. They kind of fall into a bodyscissors, and Toyota finally gets something going when she hits Aja with a double foot stomp. She tries to brawl on the outside, but Aja shows her how it's done by dragging her into the crowd and whipping her into a row of chairs. Back in the ring, Toyota grabs Aja's trash can but then discards it. I couldn't help but think of that one time Roman Reigns said "You idiot! You never put the chair down!" After getting the better of a headbutt exchange, Aja retrieves the trash can and bashes Toyota in the head with it. Toyota goes for a moonsault after hitting a German suplex, but Aja rolls out of the way. For all the grief Toyota gets for being sloppy, I don't think anyone had a prettier moonsault. She made it look completely effortless. Toyota puts her knees up to block an Aja splash and attempts a springboard plancha when Aja rolls to the outside, but Aja moves out of the way. Aja then hits a tope of her own, a genuine holy-shit moment. This part of the match felt very Liger/Sano in that it was based around both of them coming up short on high-risk moves. Aja signals for the uraken after hitting a diving back elbow drop, but Toyota ducks both attempts and hits a Japanese ocean suplex. I think it's cool how much of Toyota's offense is specifically designed to counter Aja's. I also really like how counter-heavy this match is in general. Not only does it make sense given their familiarity with each other, it builds anticipation for the big moves and makes it seem like a bigger deal when they do hit. After sending Aja to the outside, Toyota nearly decapitates her with a missile dropkick and then puts her through a table. After another Japanese ocean suplex, there's some clipping (the only clipping I could clearly detect, and it's so seamless that it's easy to miss unless you're paying close attention) to Aja catching Toyota coming off the ropes with a brainbuster. She finally hits the uraken, but Toyota kicks out. Two more urakens follow, but the result is the same. Toyota even bridges out of the second one. She may have no defense at this point, but she's going to force you to kill her dead if you want to pin her. That's the kind of fighting spirit I can get behind. Aja drops the gloves and lands a bare-fisted uraken (her murderdeathkill finisher), but time expires before she can make the cover.
Tier: 4. I'm normally averse to clipped matches, but we have roughly as much of this percentage-wise as we do of the 1985 Lawler/Dundee LLT match. And that's if the official time is legitimate, which I suspect it might not be. Maybe the clipping makes it look tighter and more cohesive than it really was, but what we have is superlative. If you can only have one Kong/Toyota match, this is the way to go.
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Post by nintendologic on Jul 17, 2021 10:08:57 GMT -5
Tatsumi Fujinami/Riki Choshu/Akira Maeda/Kengo Kimura/Super Strong Machine vs. Antonio Inoki/Yoshiaki Fujiwara/Seiji Sakaguchi/Kantaro Hoshino/Keiji Mutoh (NJPW, 8/19/87)
Mutoh would obviously go on to become a huge star, but he's still a fresh-faced youngster at this point. The tags are frequent, especially in the early going, but there's hardly any double-teaming or running in to break up pins and submissions, so this feels more like a series of rapid-fire singles matches than a true tag match. Machine goes after Fujiwara with headbutts, but trying to headbutt Fujiwara is like trying to headbutt a Samoan, so that doesn't end well for him. After dropping Hoshino with a punch combo, Kimura demands that Inoki tag in, but he gets Sakaguchi instead. Sakaguchi is probably the heaviest hitter on Inoki's team other than Inoki himself, a lumbering mountain of a man who tosses opponents around like ragdolls. He ties Kimura up in the ropes and goes after his bandaged right knee. Fujinami's side succeeds in isolating Mutoh for a bit, but he tags out while Kimura has him in a half crab. When Sakaguchi comes back in, Kimura decides discretion is the better part of valor and makes a beeline for his corner to tag in Fujinami. Sakaguchi tosses Fujinami around a bit, but he gets isolated and worked over when Fujinami manages to maneuver him into his team's corner. When Maeda comes up empty on a spinning heel kick (he busted Fujinami wide open with one in their famous 1986 match, so it's over as a killer move), Sakaguchi makes the tag and we finally get the Inoki/Maeda showdown everyone was waiting for. Inoki sucker punches Maeda in the ropes, but Maeda fires back and moves him into the corner for more isolation. Inoki is no mere mortal, though, so he parts the Red Sea with a headbutt and scrambles over for the tag. Don't cross the boss. Sakaguchi finally gets a chance to get his hands on Kimura again after Hoshino softens him up a bit. He again goes after the knee with a half crab, but Kimura fights his way over to his corner and brings Fujinami back in. He doesn't fare much better, though, as Sakaguchi simply chucks him off when he applies a headlock. However, he escapes a suplex attempt and nails Sakaguchi with an enzuigiri. He then has the presence of mind to make the immediate tag to Choshu while the big man is still stunned. Choshu hits the lariat, and Sakaguchi goes down for the first elimination. Shortly afterward, Inoki is in there with Machine and locks in an octopus hold. Machine makes the ropes, so Inoki simply pulls him back toward the middle of the ring and reapplies it for the submission. Kind of a dick move, but also kind of badass. Inoki's side takes the lead when Fujiwara submits Kimura with a flash kneebar on the leg Sakaguchi had been working. Choshu is the next man up, and he runs over to get some licks in while Fujiwara is still entangled in the hold. Fujiwara reverses a suplex attempt into his namesake armbar and Choshu makes the ropes. However, that proves to be a double-edged sword as he's now in prime position to be eliminated by ring-out. That's what makes a submission master like Fujiwara so dangerous in a match like this: a rope break only increases your peril. Choshu's team is all but finished if he gets tossed, so he holds on to the ropes with all his might. Then, when Fujiwara winds up for a headbutt, Choshu nails him with a huge right hand that sends him all the way to his corner. Mutoh's attempt to cut off the tag fails, and Maeda comes in and demands Inoki. After Inoki misses an enzuigiri and Maeda misses a spinning heel kick, Inoki takes him down with a flying headscissors. When he goes for a second, Maeda shockingly takes one for the team and tumbles to the floor, eliminating them both. Fujinami's side is still at a numerical disadvantage, but they've managed to cut the head off the dragon. Fujinami tries to knock Fujiwara off the apron by ramming his head into the ringpost, but he of course no-sells it and climbs back into the ring like nothing happened. Shortly afterward, though, he gets pinned when Fujinami reverses a European uppercut into a backslide. It's now down to aging junior Hoshino and young boy Mutoh against Choshu and Fujinami, so the outcome at this point is a foregone conclusion. Sure enough, Hoshino eats a lariat in short order, leaving Mutoh on his own. Choshu and Fujinami spend the next few minutes basically toying with him, and I would have liked to have seen him manage a fluke ring-out elimination to add a bit more drama. He does get to show off his handspring elbow, though. He goes up for the moonsault, but Choshu dodges and hits a lariat. He then incites a brawl between the eliminated members while Fujinami puts Mutoh away with a German suplex. Not only did Fujinami's side display better teamwork, they did a better job of keeping their big guns in reserve until necessary to turn the tide. Slow and steady wins the race.
Tier: 3. This is by far my favorite of the New Japan elimination matches. The action never lets up (and there's some comedy based around Fujiwara's hard head to boot), the star power is off the charts, and there's enough hierarchy to add some additional flavor. I can certainly appreciate a deeply layered psychological masterpiece, but sometimes wrestling should just be fun, and this match certainly fits the bill.
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Post by nintendologic on Jul 19, 2021 10:30:25 GMT -5
Mitsuharu Misawa/Kenta Kobashi/Tsuyoshi Kikuchi vs. Toshiaki Kawada/Akira Taue/Yoshinari Ogawa (AJPW, 6/3/93)
This is the first of the Misawa/Kawada six-mans, and like the legendary 5/25/92 tag match, it takes place in Kikuchi's hometown of Sendai. Poor guy always seemed to take a horrible beating in his hometown. And everywhere else, for that matter. The first several minutes are about everyone getting some ring time and having a chance to show what they can do. Ogawa and Kikuchi are completely overmatched against anyone except each other (Ogawa sells Misawa's elbows like he's been hit by repulsor blasts), so there's a palpable frantic energy whenever they're in the ring together. The first turning point comes when Kawada's side targets Misawa's leg after Kawada chops him down with leg kicks. There's an amusing moment when Kikuchi runs in to break up a half crab only for Kawada to swat him away like an insect. Kikuchi is little more than a punching bag against Kawada and Taue, and the way they answer the question of why he'd be the legal man during a critical juncture of the match is pretty brilliant. After fending off Taue with an enzuigiri, Misawa must tag out as quickly as possible due to the damage to his leg and has the clearest path to Kikuchi. Unfortunately, that means Kikuchi is now in the ring with an opponent he struggles to even get off his feet. Taue powers out of a hiptoss attempt and makes the tag to Kawada. Kikuchi realizes the peril he's in and makes a mad scramble for his corner, but Taue cuts him off. The fun begins when Kawada hoists Kikuchi over his shoulder like a duffel bag and dumps him to the floor followed by Taue slamming him on the timekeeper's table. Kikuchi's in so much trouble that Misawa takes the unusual-for-him step of running in to break up a Kawada Boston crab. Taue bends Kikuchi into a pretzel with a Jumbo-tier abdominal stretch that Kobashi breaks up. Taue responds by guillotining Kikuchi on the top rope and shooting Kobashi an evil glare. Ogawa comes in and stomps on Kikuchi repeatedly like he's trying to put out a campfire. Kikuchi rolls to the apron for a breather, but Kawada simply picks him up and chucks him back in. The setup to the hot tag is incredible. Kikuchi ducks a Taue clothesline and stuns him with a leg lariat. Taue catches a crossbody attempt, but Kikuchi falls down and desperately lunges for his corner while Taue grabs his leg and tights. Kobashi runs in to break Taue's grip, allowing Kikuchi to make the tag to Misawa. Thankfully, he does a proper house of fire sequence and lights everyone up with elbows rather than going for a facelock right off the bat. Taue makes the tag to Kawada after cutting off Misawa with a Samoan drop. Misawa fights off a stretch plum and applies a facelock. When Ogawa breaks it up, he tags out to Kobashi. He and Kawada go at it for a bit with neither able to gain a sustained advantage. Kawada intercepts a Kobashi shoulderblock with a jumping kick, but he hurts his leg in the process. Kobashi's body is blocking his path to Taue, so he has no choice but to tag Ogawa. Again, they do a fantastic job of having a logical reason for Ogawa to be in there rather than simply expecting the viewer to accept it as creative license. Kobashi sidesteps an Ogawa dropkick, and now it's Kikuchi's time to shine. Kawada and Taue knock Misawa and Kobashi off the apron after Ogawa hits a backdrop, leaving the juniors on their own as the big boys brawl on the floor. They exchange a frenetic series of near falls before Kikuchi picks up the win with a German suplex.
Tier: 4. The first ten minutes or so won't blow you away, but the Kikuchi beatdown makes this a classic. This is a must-see if you're a Taue fan because it's probably the most menacing he's ever looked.
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