WIRTB Review: The Souled Out Series Volume One (1997)

Apparently, I have a death wish with regards to shitty PPVs. After going through Greed, WM27, Backlash, Superbrawl, Mayhem 2000 (ya fat asses), and others...I've taken on the unenviable task of reviewing all four parts of the Souled Out PPV tetralogy. I am Speed on the Beat, and this is WIRTB Review, the review series (sometimes wrestling, sometimes movies, sometimes Chris Webber's rap CD) where I review the crap, so you don't have to.

Our first volume falls on the date of January 25, 1997. Our descriptors indicate that "Hollywood Hogan defends [his] WCW Title versus The Giant, Hall and Nash defend the Tag Team Titles vs The Steiners [and more]." So, at least I'll get some Steiner here, right? Eh, let's get into it.

We open to a grainy B&W video of the nWo army being driven into the city on trash trucks. Syxx lets us know that this is going to be sweet (I'm not sure about how "too sweet," it'll be, brother. Gotta be specific) and Eric Bischoff says nWo's going to change the world. Let me remind you, before I forget (even though WCW doesn't let you), this PPV is branded as the first nWo PPV, because nWo took over a WCW PPV in a way that'll make you beg for the Anonymous GM. In reality, it was a marketing plan to see if a two-PPV month plan could work and if nWo PPVs had any draw. 

We spend the first four minutes or so with the nWo outside and outside of the arena, looking like old white guy rejects from the Straight Outta Compton movie. We're given something which resembles a long take meets a home video recording, then our logo. But, of course, we're given more promos for the PPV, with Bischoff talking about the nWo like some sort of authoritarian monstrosity. Five minutes in and I already feel like my brain cells are dying.

Oh, hey, it's Fake Sting.

FINALLY, we're taken ringside with a boatload of overhead pyro (not 2000 WCW-levels, but pretty bad still) and Bischoff speaking again and introducing the nWo big three. This feels so cartoony. Hall, Nash, and Hogan talk back and forth to each other via big-ass screens and tell us that WCW sucks and doesn't exist anymore, because nWo has "souled out." I'm going to go out on a limb and guess we're gonna get a lot of "soul"/"sold" puns tonight. "Trillionaire" Ted DiBiase is shown in his first WIRTB Review appearance on commentary with Bischoff and we're finally under way with our first match.

The "mysterious announcer" calls Chris Jericho into the ring to face off against Masahiro Chono. The crowd is dead. The camera is wonky. And this feels like someone just smuggled their 1990s camcorder into the arena and recorded a house show. I get that that's the gritty feel they're going for, but for fuck's sake: if you've got a trillionaire beneficiary backing your wrestling coup, would it kill you to actually shell out some cash to make your product look better than that which you are splintering from?

Bischoff tries to put over the "nWo Beauties," but they look more like they fell off the side of a dope fiend's stolen Nova. And just like "Children's Story," this match serves up a cautionary tale. WCW was one of the only American federations who didn't (always) make their Asian wrestlers into Hong Kong Fuckheads. If you were Japanese and wanted to get over in America, you'd say "fuck you WWF. Let me get my money, ECW. I'm going to WCW." When WCW went under, you got Kung Fu Naki and Engrish Yoshi Tatsu doing their shtick. Thankfully, WWE has learned the error of their stupidity and is letting Hideo Itami actually be KENTA, aside from his name. But, in 1997, there'd be no real way Japanese talents'd get big in America unless it was WCW.

With that said, more of this match than needed is spent focusing on the WCW crusaders and the like and shitting on WCW than the match itself. Camera angles tend to not capture some of the action (at least they may've inadvertently invented Selfie Sticks). On top of that, nWo has their own ref. So, pretty much, we already know that nWo will win--even if they lose--pretty much every match.

Anywho, Chono starts out on top and takes it to Jericho. "USA" chants start out (for a wrestler who's from Winnipeg, you idiot) and Ted puts over Chono's STF hold. This match is pretty interesting, since I've seen a limited amount of Chono's work. I'll be honest: for me, it'd be a decent introduction to Chono's work. But, please, for the love of pie, watch this son-of-a-bastard-maker on mute because fuck Bischoff's commentary. Chono, after some slow counts, and a rebound, gets the Yakuza kick for the quick count win.

I think I've gotten the quickest "fuck this company" going in WIRTB history. Sadly, they all seem to be coming from WCW.

Next, we get Hugh Morrus versus Big Bubba, which ends with Bubba running Morrus over with a bike. A fucking bike. Out of all the wild and crazily fucktarded things I've seen in WCW, and I've seen monster trucks drive off sides of buildings, this takes the cake. Why? There's no real rhyme or reason behind it. It's just like "hey, I'm nWo. I break the rules. Lemme try to kill this fat fuck with a bike just because he's WCW." Not only that, the sell job of Hugh Morrus on the bike hit was horrible, compounded by the atrocious camera angles.

Artist's rendition.

We go back to the "nWo Beauties," one of which looks like what you'd get if you crossed Luanne Platter with some rum and a glory hole (in other words, Mama Platter for the KOTH fans out there). When asked what she'd do to get into the next WCW movie, she responds with "whatever it takes."

Can you shoot me so I don't have to watch the rest of this goddamned PPV?

The next one up, this derp-faced blondie (see a recurring theme here, guys?), is asked what her price is, since our intrepid interviewee has about "$1.50" on him. Her priceless response? "You can walk away with a big bill." Afterwards, we get some fifty-seven-year-old looking silhouette dancing to generic grungy hair metal as we prep for our next match. But, first, nWo has a website! On NETSCAPE! Man, I miss the '90s.

Jeff Jarrett and Mr. Wallstreet are our next competitors. So, we have Bray Wyatt's dad getting ready to kick Double J's ass because this is the nWo--oh, wait what's this? Mongo comes out and hits Wallstreet with his briefcase for a Jarrett win. Lemme get this straight: your faces of the evening (WCW) have resorted to heelish tactics to win because...why exactly? Eh. It's WC--I mean, nWo in 1997. Nothing makes sense anymore, but it's still drawing ratings, so it must be right, right?

Scotty Riggs and Buff Bagwell battle next. This match lasts almost fourteen minutes. That's all I want/need to say about it. Most of that fourteen minutes is spent having Ted and Eric man-gushing over Bagwell in some way or another.

Anywho...DDP and Scott Norton get into the ring. DDP smokes a cigar and looks like a drunk. Norton decides to beat the crap out of DDP. We get the millionth "loser" chant from the anonymous fucktard in the back. This match was a lot of nothing, until the end. Every nWo lackey comes out and tries to recruit DDP. DDP accepts, but just like Cena with The Nexus, he says "fuck you heels!" and double turns, runs into the crowd, and tears off his nWo shirt in the process.

FINALLY! After more fuckery, we get some wrasslin' gawds. Hall and Nash versus THA STEINA BROVAHS! This is going to be...oh, never mind. Not even Scott Steiner can save this shit show. In some overbooking, the Steiners win because the nWo ref was knocked out. The WCW ref comes out and then counts the pinfall for the Steiners. Bischoff then says "hey, tomorrow, on Nitro, I'm going to make this shit not happen" (or something along these lines) and lo and behold. Monday comes around and the Steiners are stripped of their belts. Yep. Sounds like something out of the WWE in 2015 playbook.

Eddie and Syxx square off against each other for the U.S. Heavyweight title. Here we go: the only match which doesn't end because of interference. Why? It's a ladder match. Syxx has some sort of Redneck Kung Fu meets X-Pac thing going and it's kind of badass. And our announcers put over Eddie's Mexican background--by being racist. Yay! A solid match between Syxx and Eddie, but the selfie stick camera angles make me want to vomit something fierce. They really fuck up the match. But, eventually, Eddie gets the win after Syxx gets KTFO with the belt (since they'd both grabbed it at the same time).

After the nWo Beauty Contest (spoiler: no one wins in reality), we get Hollywood Hogan with lifts in his boots squaring off against The Giant for the Heavyweight Championship. And, because WCW, we get a schmozz to end the goddamned thing. The Giant had the belt won, but nWo comes out and starts attacking Giant. This is probably the tenth of a couple hundred face/heel turns by Paul Wight in his career (even though it wasn't really a turn) thus far.

Yep, that bad.

Join me next time for either Souled Out 1998 or a bonus episode TBD.

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Eyes on the Ring 2:10 PM  No comment

WIRTB Review: Superbrawl 2000

Good day, Ringers. It's I, the guy who told Maffew to include more video game music, the Mustafa of Hip-Hoppa, except I don't literally die halfway through, the one and only SOTB!!! Today, we've got a doozy of a shitshow lined up. Straight from the suggestion box, we've got Peagle's suggestion of Superbrawl 2000. Other suggestions included: "Die Speedy Die" and "CM Punk!" And since those are out of the question...on Febrary 20, 2000, we were told that there's "nothing they won't do to hold the gold" and that the main event is a "three-way dance for heavyweight gold." So, judging off that, we're either going to have:

a) a legit triple threat match
b) some sort of porno with lesbian pollen
c) a WCW-circa-2000-level PPV

The opening promo is hilarity. First, we get the "Death Match" between Ric Flair and Terry Funk. Since this isn't 2015, the death probably won't be literal. Next up in the promo reel, Hulk Hogan and Lex Luger try to make people give a damn about their feud and the promo for the Heavyweight Title, complete with Jeff Jarrett calling someone "slapnuts" and hitting Kevin Nash with a guitar.

As our show opens, f'reals, we get the pyro equivalent of Pinky bonking herself. It just...won't...stop. As an aside, to keep my enjoyment level up for this event, since I'm assuming it's going to be a clusterfuck of epic proportions, I'll probably be throwing in random adult entertainers' names in, just to make sure you're paying attention. For instance, Mean Gene and Ron Jeremy look like they could've been separated at birth. There are as many black guys in the audience as there are, apparently, in adult films: five to ten.

Oh good lord...I don't think I'm going to be able to hold my tongue on this one already. And we haven't even gotten to the first match. The stilted gifs accompanying the match card, added in with the LULZ-worthy "Never Gonna Stop" cover have the effect of drinking a bottle of bleach and chasing it with 151. Oh, wow...The Demon! Now I know that I'm in for a treat.

Thirteen minutes in and we're finally getting to the first match. The Artist (formerly known as Prince Iaukea), with Paisley, versus Lash LeRoux for the Cruiserweight Championship. These assholes are in here two-stepping and we're supposed to take this match seriously? Paisley's get-up reminds me of Lacey Duvalle, in that they tend to try too hard. The audience is dead for this match, aside from the one "WWF SUCKS" sign holder. After some "brawling," we get a spot the OSW guys would probably pop over, the "Aloha Arn." TAFKAPI avoids being pinned by a sunset flip by flailing his arms violently, even getting the ref to do the same. TAFKAPI then tries to give Lash what looks like a wet willie, which results in a near fall.

I'll be honest, I'm not paying attention at this point, but what I'm seeing is Botchamania-caliber stupidity. TAFKAPI keeps getting near-falls, and then whiffs on a punch from Lash. This match thankfully ends with Lash fucking around and almost killing himself on a Frankensteiner attempt, TAFKAPIkea hitting a jumping DDT on Lash, then running his finger down Lash's stomach in a manner suggesting that Paisley isn't his type...or any woman.

Next, Norman Smiley is getting wrapped up and gives the worst sell of an injury I've seen. It's almost as bad as those 1980s porns where everything is equivalent to the best--or worst--moment ever.

Smiley: "...ooh, it [his ribs] could be cracked."
::lifts arms up, with no problem or grimace::
Smiley: "oooh, oooh, it may be cracked."

Some more backstage foolishness, and we're back in-ring for our next match. Bam Bam Bigelow versus Nasty Brian Knobs in a "Hardcore" match. In WCW, "Hardcore" came down to beating the fuck out of each other with trash cans, cookie sheets, and--well, it was pretty much like WWF at this point. Bam Bam gets hit with a trash can after being distracted by Fit Finlay. Knobs gets tossed over the railing. They go outside the ring and into the concessions area. This shit is making me miss the "let's defend the belt at a kid's ball pit or the Mall of America" era of WWF Hardcore. As BBB and Knobs go back to ringside, BBB gets tossed into the steps.

"Good thing Bam has those tattoos to protect his head," Mark Madden retorts. Yes, because ink saves people from blunt force.

Knobs then sets up a table in the corner of the ring, ends up going through it himself, then gets some trash lids for his troubles. A "Greetings from Ashbury Park" and--nevermind, BBB doesn't pin Knobs. Knobs gets a low-blow to knock BBB out the ring and Knobs pins him outside the ring.

Yep. Fuck this company.

Magic Mike, the Wigger Edition--I mean, 3 Count, is out next for their match against Norman Smiley. They begin their in-ring promo by saying "I know our fanbase in San Francisco can appreciate our many talents." ...was that some sort of subtle "gay joke," WCW, or am I giving you too much credit? Smiley is out next in a Jerry Rice jersey. Fifteen years later, I'm sure someone like Norman would be considered a big face. Or at least Santino.

The match begins, pretty much, with an "Aloha Arn" and some sort of three-on-one pin on Smiley. Smiley gets destroyed by Shane Helms, until Helms damn near kills himself on a Twisting Corkscrew Splash. Smiley gets the swing going, and ends up knocking himself out. And then we get a dance contest in the middle of the ring. After this, Norman's Jerry Rice jersey gets ripped off and 3 Count just goes all Spirit Squad on Norman. Norman ends up tapping to Evan's Boston Crab.

So far, this match is like a Kink.com fuck machine session. Some may consider it "torture," but I consented to it. So I'm gonna keep at it, possibly because I'm enjoying the "torture" I'm putting myself through.

And then comes out comes The Demon. Fuck this shit. I'm writing this at 1:30 in the afternoon on a lunch break and I'm contemplating going down to my office's "bar" and just drinking myself stupid. His opponent for the night, Generic Wrestler Name #31992, "THEEEEEE WAAAAAAAAALL." I can't even watch WCW with a straight face because every time I hear David Penzer, I just think of the OSW Review parody of his announcing style and I lose my shit. Anyway, The Demon goes back to the Gorilla position and meets up with THEEEEEE WAAAAAAAAALL. Wall ends up beating Demon in four minutes or so with the chokeslam.

So, we're four matches in and we've pretty much gotten four glorified squashes.

Ernest Miller has a backstage promo with Mean Gene speaking on how James Brown's supposed to show up. Also, something about Beethoven stealing his stuff from Little Richard. For fuck's sake. This was a good idea to someone? Miller looks like he just stumbled off of the set of Racist White Girl Assholes, Mandingo Cocks 27 and Mean Gene can't even save this promo.

Now, apparently, there's been someone in a "private room" all show. Who wants to guess that person is James Brown?

Next up? Tank Abbott versus Big Al in a..."Leather Jacket on a Pole" match.

Yeah...let's forget that this happened, "beard-cutting scissors" and all.

Three years before this, WCW was the hottest promotion around. WTF happened? Overpaid celebrities, mismanagement, clusterfuckiness, Swoll, etc.

NEXT up, after about ten minutes of promos, is Booker (T) versus Big T, a/k/a Ahmed Johnson. Anyone ever want to see Ahmed Johnson and Booker T go at it? No? Me neither. Next.

Booker T deserves his WWE HOF, just off the strength of making Ahmed Johnson look halfway watchable.
...the match was still pretty shit, though.

More promos--shit, the promos are longer than the fucking matches!!!--and we get Billy Kidman and Vampiro. You know what? This is probably the first WIRTB Review that I'm ready to say FTS halfway through. I made it through Greed with less anguish. Vampiro and Kidman look like they're trying to legit kill each other. One of the announcers says "In two years, this match will be for the world title."

I just said fuck it all to hell at this point. But, then it gets worse.

David Flair, Daffney, and "Crowbar" go up against the Mamalukes for the tag team titles.

We hear her screams throughout the match, something akin to some sort of horror porn. Her wig comes off as she does a frankensteiner-like move. She then sprays hair spray (again, WCW?) in someone's eyes. Y'know what...fuck this shit. Fuck this company. Fuck this PPV. Even the commentators are shitting on this. And not in the WWE somewhat still halfway well-intention-having type of way.

Ernest Miller is out after this shitshow (David Flair and company won BTW), insulting the crowd and calling them "rednecks" (didn't True just write something about this sort of thing) and telling them that James Brown was still on his way. We get a fat imposter. Then, of course, the real James Brown comes out.

Just when you think things couldn't get worse, it was later revealed that WCW didn't gain a single penny from having James on the show because (derp) they forgot to actually promote it. What's even worse is this: the WWE Network dubbed over his music. What's even worse still is this: this fuckery took up more time than any of the gotdamn matches. I know it's James Brown, but...fuck this.

Scott Hall appears in a promo and give the DX Crotch Chop. I think that's how little ANYONE cared about this PPV. He doesn't even do the "Scott Hall/X-Pac version." Guys, I'm going to be honest...I can't fucking do this shit. I've seen shit, and I've seen horrible crap. But, no. Just...no.

The end matches:
Ric Flair wins the "death match."
Hulk Hogan wins against Luger, then proceeds to beat the dog piss out of him with a belt. Flair comes back out, and then OMFGITSSTING!
The main event (Sid vs. Hall vs. Double J) ends in a shitshow. Everyone and their mom comes out and starts to get in on the action.

Fuck this PPV straight to hell. Don't watch it. At all. Ever. I'd recommend Greed and December to Dismember followed by Heroes of Wrestling before this.

I'm Speed on the Beat, signing off on another edition of WIRTB Review saying I review this crap, so you don't have to.

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Eyes on the Ring 3:47 PM  No comment

Speed on the Beat Reviews: Judgment Day 2007

Hello Ringers. Sadness and excrement are here to ring in the new year with another (not-so) exciting episode of "Was It Really That Bad?" Review with me, the Chris Jericho of EOTR, Speed on the Beat. In case you've missed it, the purpose of "WIRTB" is to take PPVs that have, deservedly or otherwise, been crapped on over the years and answer the question, in hindsight, of "was it really that bad?" with a somewhat "smarky" tone. I've had to say "yes" for the past four reviews, so maybe this one will be the camel which breaks The Great Khali's back.

...Guess I just gave away the decision. Or did I? Let's get this (shit) show on the road. A word of caution, though. As seen in my Uncensored 1995 review, my "WIRTB" reviews tend to get a bit more...colorful than other EOTR posts. Figure'd I'd get that disclaimer out the way before we lose our sponsors on account for me showing a bit of attitude with my RUTHLESS...AGGRESSION!

Judgement Day (2007) featured John Cena versus Khali, Edge versus Batista, Chris Benoit versus Montel Vontavious Porter, CM Punk versus Elijah Burke among other matches. It also features Kane on the poster, despite Kane only having a dark match against William Regal. That's a harbinger of things to come.

If Kane's my guide through the River Styx, just throw me in and let me burn.

This was, admittedly, around the time when I stopped giving much of a crap about wrestling. We always talk about the "PG Era" being horrible, but around this time, WWE was pretty ghastly (McMahon's bastard son, McMahon's limo blowing up, etc.). TNA was good, match-wise, but sucked storyline-wise (sounds familiar). And you couldn't really find ROH, PWG, CZW or what have you anywhere aside from DVDs and YouTube clips (at least not in Baltimore), so I wasn't really that big on indies. All in all, 2007 was a weird year for wrestling (aside from the obvious Benoit incident).

Before I get into the event itself, I've got to say that it's pretty damned weird to see Chris Benoit wrestling. This is the first time I've watched Judgement Day since Benoit did what he did. This won't be a post on that, though. So, without further ado, let's get into it--for real, this time.

Our first match is Ric Flair versus Carlito.

Spoiler Alert: #FlairWinsLOL

Now, here are two guys that are great talents. Ric Flair is a damned legend, and Carlito, when he wasn't having "attitude issues," was one of my favorites from this era. However, this match falls flat. First, this is around the time where I started praying Flair would just leave well enough alone and become someone's manager. Like, I didn't mind Flair still blading like a boss in the early 2000s, or even him in Evolution. However, by this point, watching Flair was like watching that drunk uncle at your family's reunion who tries is damnedest to be cool and relive his golden days, but ends up puking on himself after having one too many brews when everyone's looking.

Now that I told you how my Christmas was, I've gotta say that the "Umaga Ate My Homework" sign that popped up early on was better than this match. The submission-fests in this match don't give any additional "psychology" or story to this match. They just showcase that Flair, as much of a legend as he is, should have just chilled the hell out by this point. JR and Lawler try to put over both talents, but neither the crowd nor I am having any of it. A drunk fat black guy, possibly the dad of the "Just Say Yes!" guy, tries to get a "NA-TURE BOY!" chant going to mostly deaf ears. After more submissions, Flair slaps on the Figure Four and gets the win.

Our next match is Black Lesnar versus Blackface Lashley, Shane McMahon, and Umaga in a handicap match for the ECW Championship.

What's up...my nigga?

First, can someone remind Vince that taking the belt off a black guy and/or working with a black guy doesn't turn you black? If it did, I'm pretty sure that CM Punk would've been all "yo dawg" when he teamed up with Kofi. Seriously, this whole "Vince is one of the blacks" thing was probably as distasteful as DX appearing in blackface in 1998. Except, as fucked up as that whole thing was, it halfway had a point (DX were the "edgy" asshole tweeners who wanted to piss everyone off, Trips hated Rock, the segment, while uncomfortable to watch as a black guy, still had some halfway funny moments, etc.). This crap was just saddening. Then again, Vince has a habit of trying to be down with da peepz, homie.

Taz has to catch himself from saying "holy shit" when Shane gets speared by Black Lesnar (a decent spot, by the way). Here's a rundown of this match: After Black Lesnar gets the win, Blackface Lashley has his durag fall off and retains on a technicality, and Umaga thumb spikes Black Lesnar after the bell. That's pretty much all that happened in this.

We get a backstage segment with Dr. Chris Annan the WWE backstage doctor advising Shawn Michaels that he can't compete (after Orton damn near killed him by tossing him into the stage equipment backstage).We then get "THIS FIRE BURNS!!!" and CM Punk comes out for his match against Elijah Burke. FINALLY, I have a use for this:

It's a bit ironic to hear the WWE announcers putting over Punk's BJJ and Muay Thai skills when almost eight years later, he's in the UFC. On the other hand, I can't take Elijah Burke seriously. Yes, he's legitimate and has can throw legitimate bombs, but the man has hair beads. What grown-ass man do you know has hair beads?

He looks like JTG's illegitimate brother. Considering WWE at the time,
I'm amazed they didn't do an "all blacks look alike" storyline.

The match's main focus is Punk's ribs and whether or not the injury will cost him against Burke. I actually enjoyed this match because both Punk and Burke told a decent story. Should it have gone on for almost fifteen minutes, though? Hell no. A lot of back-and-forth and Punk gets the victory on the GTS which didn't have a lot of the theatrics of some of his later GTSes. It connected, Burke dropped, Punk got the pin. 

Next up? HBK vs. Orton.

I'm an Orton fan...but he definitely looked juiced here.

HBK gets KTFO at the beginning. HBK receives a middle-rope DDT. HBK looks dead. HBK collapses before Orton gives him the RKO. Orton gets all "I hear voices," puts HBK on the top rope, which results in HBK clawing at Orton's face. HBK gives Orton an elbow drop and then drops like a Fight Night create-a-boxer before he gives Orton the Sweet Chin Music, giving Orton the win. That same fat black guy, it sounds like, gets an RKO chant going. Orton obliges. The end.

Oh look, a wild Khali appears with "John Cena's belt" (technically, they're right. It's the spinner belt and it's the spinner belt that Cena had won) and his translator. As expected, his promo is greeted to "WHAT?!" chants. Yay AMURRRICA!

Random fact: Khali, before he ended up in WWE, was kind of an agile big man.
Pituitary gland problems and taking massive bumps at his size can kill that for
anyone. 

The World Tag Team Championship match between Generic Alt Rock Song Ten The Hardys and Cade and Murdoch.

Word...my nigga.

This match starts out pretty decently. Lots of switchy spots that give both teams a fair shot. JBL gives us a word-of-the-day ("capriciousness") as Jeff Hardy tags in. The match slows down when Matt goes in after Jeff's first tag, while speeds up a great deal when Jeff's in. Save your "it's synonymous with the drugs they used" foolishness for someone who cares about all that. Cade and Murdoch were one of the Ruthless Aggression Era's underrated tag teams to me. They meshed so well, even though their characters were kind of "eh."

The tide changes "just as [JBL] was about to put [Cade and Murdoch] over" (yes, that was an actual line from JBL's commentary, that little smark) and the Hardys start picking it up. Some more back and forth ensues (at this point, it's kind of yawn-inducing, so I'll spare you the details). Then Jeff hits a swanton bomb after Matt's Twist of Fate and scores the retention.

We get a promo for the Edge/Batista match (I skipped over it; didn't need to know it again), then they actually start going at it. The fact that this match goes on before the U.S. Championship match rubs me the wrong way. I'm glad that it's something different and a victory for the "non-Cenas," but you're putting a match between two of the era's biggest stars on before MVP and Benoit.

Oh, wait. This match kind of sucks and the Benoit/MVP feud was actually pretty damned intense (I guess MVP's adoration of Benoit as a wrestler and all created even more magic in this feud). Never mind, I get why they did it.

Seven years later, Batista'd pick up where he left off in this match.
He'd go back to the Jersey Shore and pick up his European cuts.

Edge scored the victory on a school boy after Batista does his Ultimate Warrior homage (RIP Warrior) and hits a second spinebuster. Yes, Edge's the ultimate opportunist, but...come on! Edge getting the win on a Diva's move is, in the immortal words of Riley Freeman, a bitch move (excuse my sexism, but I mean that somewhat literally). Now, if you're watching this on the WWE Network, you'll know you can't actually search for Benoit's match in the PPV timeline. However, the Benoit/MVP match is up next.

It's eerie hearing "but the dead don't have no memory" in MVP's theme before Benoit comes out, just because. But, again, I'm not going to focus on Benoit's last day's (as hard as it is to put it out of your head when you see him).

This match, for the U.S. Championship, is a two-out-of-three-falls match. I forgot how "cool" MVP was (supposed to be), with the stunna shades, the "ballin'" shot taunt, the tracksuit get-up, the bling, etc. The story that Benoit and MVP were able to tell in this match was great. MVP was shown as the plucky heel with tweener tendencies (he wasn't as chicken of a heel as he could've been here). Benoit was shown as the aggressive face who wanted to retain his belt after being injured by Finlay. The match was heavy on technical wrestling, brawl spots, and well pretty much everything you could want from a co-main event. Benoit hits the Three Amigos after some corner action then locks in the Crossface. MVP gets out, which leads to an exchange ending in a sharpshooter by Benoit. MVP gets both pins after performing the Playmaker and a cradle pin. This match was my favorite match of the event. There wasn't a cheap finish, no crazy flippy shit for no real reason, no Elijah Burke.

And just like WWE in 2014, 2015, you go from a hot match to Cena closing out the show.

Seriously wonder if Cena realizes that the intro to "My Time is Now"
contains a shoutout to Amadou? Or does it's just there to make
Cena seem more "urban?" 

The reactions are still pretty mixed here, but more cheers than boos (it is 2007, after all). Khali comes out with Cena's belt (as mentioned) and Lawler wants Cena to prove that size doesn't matter. Ugh.

Khali does his Godzilla yell and Cena clocks him in the stomach, which pisses the giant off. Khali delivers a clothesline which looked primed to cave Cena's effin' head in without a kick. They brawl outside, highlighted by Cena being tossed into the steps. Cena selling Khali's offense (something you don't see much of these days, on either front), until he hulks up, hits a bulldog and puts on the weakest submission hold in WWE these days (the STF[U]) for the win.

Final Verdict:
So, was it really that bad? Aside from the Benoit/MVP match? Daniel, care to tell the audience?

No one really had chemistry. The Cena match was ass (even more than you'd expect from Khali versus Cena). CM Punk's match, while decent, went on for way too long. The Tag Team match dragged as well. Your poster boy has a dark match. And HBK getting his shit rocked more times than I cared to watch was unneeded (Legend Killer or not). All in all, skip mostly everything in this PPV. If you can stomach watching Benoit, I'd recommend the MVP/Benoit match and maybe the CM Punk/Burke match. Other than that? Stay far the hell away from this bastard.

That about does it for me. Be sure to (shameless plug) be on the lookout for new music from myself and the rest of Team DAR. Also, be sure to keep your eyes on the ring...my nigga. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cry about the absurdity of Vince McMahon magically re-receiving his black card from beating Bobby Lashley in the first place. 

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Eyes on the Ring 12:00 PM  2 comments

Speed on the Beat Reviews: The Infamous Heroes of Wrestling

Hello and welcome to what may be a new feature on Eyes of the Ring, the "Was It Really That Bad?" Review. I am your master of clusterf***, Speed on the Beat. Today, we'll take a look at a PPV considered by many to be the worst of all-time. Yes, worse than December to Dismember. I'm talking about 1999's Heroes of Wrestling.

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