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The Dumbest Match in Wrestling History?
I’ve added the question mark because this is,
at times, a profoundly dumb business and there can no more be a
definitively dumb match than there can be a definitively great match. Take
TNA’s recent reverse battle royal – as thorough a piece of dumbness as
you’ll ever see. Let’s recap the rules –
16 men go down
to the ring and stand outside until the match begins.
They then
scuffle outside until 8 men have managed to get into the ring (and there
are times when you can clearly see men looking round for someone to
scuffle with when they should by rights be climbing into the ring).
With 8 men in
the ring it is an over-the-top-rope battle royal where the order of
elimination determines the seedings for a forthcoming tournament.
After 6 men have
been eliminated, the final two now have a regular one on one match.
Whoever scores
the winning pinfall gets to be top seed in the forthcoming tournament
and will face the first man eliminated from the second part of the
battle royal.
Wow – that’s dumb. Layer upon layer of
complication for what should be a simple battle of good vs evil. Worse
than that, it was so utterly insignificant in the grand scheme of things
(if TNA can be said to have a grand scheme of things) that I can’t
remember who won. I do remember they put the artist formerly known as
Rikishi over strongly (he’s now left the company because he wasn’t under
contract – more dumbness) and the artist formerly known as Billy Gunn was
wearing what can only be described as long lycra tights made to look like
stockings and suspenders.
But while that’s dumb, the dumbest match of
all time was far worse. TNA gimmick matches tend to have too many rules.
Their "King of the Hill" match involves penalty boxes, token pinfalls, the
fetching of a title belt from someone’s table, climbing a ladder and
hanging said belt above the ring. What can be worse than a match with too
many rules? Why that would be a match where no one knows the rules. Not
the viewers, not the live audience, not the announcers and not the
wrestlers.
I give you 1996, WCW Uncensored, the
Doomsday Cage.
Hulk Hogan was nothing if not a bit
desperate back in the mid-90s. His WCW run had started well but the fans
were turning against him, tired of his red and yellow Super Man act. He
would hit upon the perfect solution just a few weeks after this match but
for now he was clinging to the hope that Hulk Hogan as the unbeatable
super hero was what the people wanted. The trouble was that he’d already
beaten everyone in WCW several times. No one man had enough credibility
left to face the mighty red and yellow. If not one man then perhaps two?
Still not enough. Then someone in a meeting somewhere in Atlanta had the
idea. If not one man then perhaps eight.
Eight?
Yes – eight.
WCW’s heel roster had been so badly damaged
by one-on-one drubbings that they brushed the remnants into a dust pan and
poured eight men into the Doomsday Cage against the Hulkster and his
buddy, Macho Man Randy Savage (because eight on one was silly – eight on
two is fine). Which eight men it would be wasn’t immediately clear – it
was billed as an alliance against Hulkamania and the rumoured members
included such diverse names as Brian Pillman and Giant Haystacks. In the
end they settled on Ric Flair (because it wouldn’t be a Hulk Hogan
drubbing if it didn’t involve Ric Flair), Arn Anderson, Kevin Sullivan,
Lex Luger, Meng, The Barbarian, Z-Gangsta and The Ultimate Solution.
Z-Gangsta, for those who care, was Zeus in
Hulk Hogan’s sputumly awful film "No Holds Barred" and The Ultimate
Solution played Bane in one of the Batman films. Yes, WCW was so short of
convincing heels that they brought two huge actors in to pad the match out
a bit.
The rules of the match were presumably on
the same piece of paper as the rules to Mornington Crescent.
The announcers said Hogan and Savage would
start in the top cage and have to run the gauntlet. He specifically says
they have to win in each cage to get into the next cage. If they do this,
the men they’ve beaten are eliminated. Then Bobby Heanan speaks the truth
– "Who cares about rules?" he barks. For once he’s right.
Michael Buffer confuses everything a little
more when he doesn’t bother explaining anything – he’s much too busy
getting everyone’s name wrong and crow barring in his catchphrases.

The cage is undoubtedly an impressive
structure from a distance but the chicken wire floor means everyone is
treading gingerly for fear of it collapsing under their weight. The cage
is also at the back of the arena because it’s too big to go over the ring.
This means the lighting is terrible and half the fans in the building
can’t see what’s going on.

Flair, Anderson, Hogan and Savage amble
about for a while – still scared stiff of putting too much weight on the
floor – while everyone else looks up at what’s going on. The announcers
tell us this is bigger than the Super Bowl and that this is the highest
match in the history of wrestling. Perhaps in the sense that you’d need to
be high to come up with it.
The baddies put figure four leg logs on the
good guys which means we now have four guys lying down, sixty feet in the
air, and nothing is going on. Eventually the holds are broken, Hogan and
Savage use powder on the Horsemen and climb down through a trap door to
the next level. So all that stuff about beating their opponents was wrong.
They spend literally thirty seconds in the next cage – with Meng and
Barbarian – before going through a door into the third cage. They are
making this up as we go along.
As if it wasn’t confusing enough, most of
the match is seen in split screen so we’re watching a poorly lit match
with no rules in tiny little mini-windows.

Hogan and Savage lock the door with a chain
so no one can get from the second cage to the third which shouldn’t be
necessary because Flair, Anderson, Meng and Barbarian have already been
eliminated. Supposedly.
The announcers are going crazy – this is
the greatest match of all time, WCW is the biggest company in the world,
lives are on the line – and Hogan decides to go out of the cage with
Sullivan and hug on the scaffold.
"They’ve got out of the cage somehow"
screams Bobby Heanan. Yes – they walked through a door in front of your
eyes.
Four of them brawl to the ring to wake up
the crowd. We get a slow motion parody of a regular Hulk Hogan match in
the ring as Sullivan bumps for a clearly exhausted Hogan. The men who were
locked in the middle cage have apparently escaped though they aren’t
involved with anything that’s going on. I don’t know what they announcers
are looking at but they aren’t calling what we’re seeing.
Two of the men – the actors – haven’t
actually appeared yet. Which makes sense – the only thing they can do is
stand and look scary so obviously you keep them hidden until the bit where
they actually have to wrestle.
A moment of genuine movement as Savage runs
up behind Kevin Sullivan and hits him with a huge plank of wood. The plank
is much too long to actually hit anyone with but at least he ran.

This must hold the record for the cage
match with the least amount of time spent in the cage. The Hogan/Savage vs
Sullivan/Luger ringside brawl goes on for ages before the two big actors
turn out. They are huge men certainly but they can’t do anything except
drag Hogan and Savage back to the cage. The bottom section of the cage has
a ring in it so we get a regular match but with low lighting and no
action.
Kevin Sullivan – on the outside of the cage
for some reason – starts poking people through the cage with a stick.
Meanwhile, the former Zeus does a much more convincing job slapping
himself in the face than he does when he tries to hit anyone else.
Gangsta chokes Hogan. Someone seems to have
written "Gangsta" on his head in felt tip. Hogan sort of recovers but no
one really knows what they’re doing.
Flair and Anderson wander back into the
cage so it’s now four on one. Sullivan and Luger have just disappeared.
The announcers claim it’s five on one until one of them counts and decides
it is actually four.
The crowd – bless them – chant "Hogan
Hogan" instead of "Bullshit bullshit".
Wait! The Booty Man has just turned up and
given the Mega Powers frying pans. I’m really not joking. There is a
wrestler called The Booty Man and he’s handing out pans to the good guys.

Then something really strange happened. Lex
Luger puts on a "loaded glove" and goes to hit Savage. But Savage escapes
and he hits Ric Flair instead. The strange thing is that Luger stops his
punch when he sees Savage move and then hits Flair anyway. Was this an
angle or just a cock up? In wrestling you’d say angle, in WCW you’d say
cock up.
Hogan tells Savage "Let’s get out of here"
and they go to the door and leave. Then Hogan remembers something
important and he sends Savage back in to pin Flair.
Yes – THEY FORGOT TO WIN THE MATCH.

Savage rushes back in and pins Flair
(because of those eight it is obviously Flair who has to do the job). The
Mega Powers then run away as if to escape the smell of the match they’ve
just been in.
To be fair, the announcers do mention the
Luger punch and speculate as to whether he deliberately hit Flair. It
doesn’t make sense since Luger was fighting Hogan and Savage before and
after the punch but it lets them shill the next night’s Nitro.
Overall, it was a match where no one knew
what they were doing and they did it badly. What little actual wrestling
there was took place in slow motion (it is perhaps the only match in
modern history not to have a single replay of anything that happened, not
even the finish of the match). If the finish was Savage pinning Flair then
why not say before hand that the first fall won it? If the plan for the
match was simply Hogan and Savage escaping, why not say it?
The concept was flawed but the execution
was hideous. That cage was so big that it must’ve taken a lot of time and
money to make it. It’s a shame no one thought about what would happen in
the match until after the bell had rung.
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