If
my inbox is any indication, the 2005 edition
of the Great American Bash will go down as one
of the worst PPVs in history. To say that folks
didn't like it is akin to saying that Katie
Vick was a bad idea - it's just common knowledge,
common sense. Although I'm far from shocked
that a main event of Batista-JBL and an undercard
featuring Heidenreich teaming with Animal (who
appears to have eaten Hawk) didn't set the world
ablaze, even I have to admit that some of the
hate mail directing at this event was a wee
bit over the top.
No,
friends, this wasn't the worst PPV of all time.
Heck, for that matter, it wasn't even the worst
Bash of all time!
For
that particular "honor", you'd need
to hop in Doc Brown's Delorean and set the flux
capacitor to 1991 (ironically enough, the same
time the WWF was delivering their
own craptacular angle which is also being
inducted this week). WCW was in a state of utter
chaos. Under the leadership of former Pizza
Hut head honcho Jim Herd, the company was disintegrating
at a speed dizzying even for WCW standards.
Herd's
ideas were different, to say the least. He proposed
that WCW go after the audience WWF had dominated
for so long: kids. To that end, he came up with
such grand ideas as the bell ringing Hunchbacks,
a team that could never be pinned because if
one shoulder went down, the other one would
be up. That idea never came about, but rather
morphed into reality as the Ding Dongs, and
suddenly, the Quadimodo brothers didn't seem
so bad after all.
Maybe
Herd had an affair with Anita Ward or something....
But
it wasn't stupid gimmicks such as these for
which Herd's reign would be remembered. It was
the firing of Ric Flair, whom the more astute
of you may recall was WCW's single biggest draw.
Herd believed that Flair was too old, and his
trademark Nature Boy gimmick was in need of
a makeover. To that end, he came up with the
idea that Flair should shave his head, wear
an earring, and become Spartacus. Although this
idea never came to fruition, WrestleCrap Labs
has been able to recreate what this might have
looked like:
"Bathroom
Grout, My Friend, It's Time to Walk That Aisle!
Whoooooo!"
Anyhoo,
Flair left and took the world title with him.
He was still WCW champion at the time, and Herd,
in a fit of rage after yet another fight with
Flair over where and to whom he would drop the
belt, just told him to get the hell out, with
the idea that the title would be vacated. Flair
agreed and went on his merry way.
Soon
enough, the WCW world title was showing up on
WWF television shows, with Bobby Heenan promising
that the "Real World Champion" was
headed to take on Hulk Hogan. Lawsuits followed.
I'd go on, but there's lots more detail about
this in the Death
of WCW book, which you've probably already
read (and if you haven't, what the hell is wrong
with you? I've got a kid on the way that's gonna
need diapers to crap in, you know!!).
I wonder
if Pizza Hut is still hiring?
Of
course, all this backstage nonsense meant nothing
to the fans, who were absolutely irate that
Flair was nowhere to be found on WCW shows.
And never was the loss of Flair more evident
than at the '91 Great American Bash.
The
idea behind the scenes, one that announcers
pitched to WCW fans, and that booker Dusty Rhodes
pitched to employees, was that this was their
chance to start anew: younger guys would get
more of an opportunity, different talent would
be pushed, and, perhaps most importantly, a
new World champion would be crowned, as perennial
top contender Lex Luger and perennial midcarder
Barry Windham would square off inside a cage.
Well,
that was the idea. Instead, WCW was about to
hear WWF chants all night long.
But
this time, WWF stood for "We
Want Flair."
| The
fun started long before we ever even
got to the ring, as the opening sequence
was a first person perspective of a
guy going into the arena. It should
have been a telling sign when he went
up to the ticket counter and absolutely
NO ONE was in line. On top of that,
the ticket vendor just gave him the
tickets for free!
Even
more patently absurd than all that was
the fact that the guy taking the tickets
appeared to be referee Randy "Pee
Wee" Anderson.
And
you thought Tommy Dreamer had it bad
selling t-shirts at ECW shows. |
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In
order to get the fans really fired up,
the first performer seen was...PN NEWS!
He teamed up with Bobby Eaton in what
might be the worst rendition of the
Midnight Express this side of Bob Holly
and Bart Gunn.
Their
opponents were Steve Austin (with the
smoking hot Lady Blossom) and "The
Computerized Man of the 1990's",
Terrence Taylor. It's too bad Turner
didn't work out a licensing deal for
Taylor, whom I believe could have really
gotten over under the moniker of "Vic
Twenty."
Anyway,
this was, for some reason this was a
scaffold match. All I could do the entire
time I was reviewing this was ponder
what kind of structural damage the building
would face if PN News took a dive.
Not
that it mattered, because after a few
minutes of "action", the bell
rang and Eaton and News were declared
the victors. Apparently, the rules were
changed the day of the show to a "Capture
the Flag" match, something that
WCW didn't exactly alert anyone to,
and the fans in the crowd weren't not
happy, to say the least.
Well,
we're off to a rip roaring start. |
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Things
actually improve here, as we get a Paul
E. promo. He promised death and destruction
to Missy Hyatt in a cage match later
in the show. Betcha can't wait for that
one.
Oh
yeah, and Paul's partner is Arn Anderson,
who was no doubt thrilled to be there
since they just fired his best friend. |
| Our
next bout features Tom Zenk against
the Diamond Studd (Scott Hall), which
is so incredibly boring I can't even
come up with anything witty to say about
it. The sole "highlight" of
this encounter is the image to the right:
Hall shoving his crotch into the back
of Zenk's head, a move I have dubbed
the "Dicklash".
Not
sure what damage that would cause, and
to be honest, I don't really want to
know. |
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Things
go from bad to worse at this point,
as we get our second WrestleCrapper
of the evening: OZ!
Oh
hell yes! Kevin Nash in that big, goofy,
green outfit can't help but bring a
tear to this jaded old eye. Better yet,
he's accompanied by the WIZARD, who
is actually Kevin Sullivan in equally
bad makeup.
And
did I mention they emerged from a CASTLE?
With FIREWORKS?
I
mean, criminy, for all the money WCW
blew on that entrance, they could have
paid Flair the money he wanted and kept
the fans from protesting.
So
anyway, after all that, after the big
entrance with castle and the wizard
and the makeup and the fireworks and
the big Hershey Kiss Hat, Oz does the
job in a negative star encounter with
Ron Simmons. |
| |
Now
here's something historic - the Rock
n Roll Express fighting each other.
You see, Ricky got fed up with Robert,
and went off and joined the York Foundation
(WrestleCrap inductee number THREE
already on this show). Ricky was so
evil, so vile, that he changed his
name to RICHARD.
I
should probably note htat he wasn't
so nefarious, though, as to get new
tights that didn't say Rock &
Roll on them, nor to burn his bandanas.
You'd
think this match would be good. I
know I thought it would be. Instead,
we got a ton of rest holds, and when
the action started getting too, well,
active, Morton would slide out of
the ring and chat with Alexandra York
(Terri Runnels) and consult her laptop
computer. You know, make fun of this
gameplan all you want, but the computer
did come up with a winning scheme
here:
1:
GRAB ME
2: HIT OPPONENT IN THE HEAD WITH ME;
GO AHEAD, I'M WILLING TO SACRIFICE
MYSELF
3: PIN OPPONENT
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| Shockingly,
there are no WrestleCrappers in our
next bout, an elimination tag team,
with the Young Pistols and Dustin Rhodes
taking on the Freebirds, with this incarnation
being Michael Hayes, Jimmy Garvin, and
Badstreet, managed by Big Daddy Dink
(Oliver Humperdink).
Badstreet,
for the two of you who care, is Brad
Armstrong with yet another sucky gimmick.
Still, he's not shooting webs, throwing
out candy, or imitating his brother,
so it sadly may be the best character
of his career.
Crowd
was so enthralled with the Birds' nonstop
stalling that we get our fourth or fifth
"We
Want Flair" chant of the evening.
The match went on forever with no one
being elimated, then suddenly everyone
was gone but Badstreet and Rhodes, with
Rhodes getting the pin. I'd ask why
they didn't just do a standard six-man
instead, but realistically, that's the
least of the problems with this show. |
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Our
streak of matches without WrestleCrap
inductees ends at one, as Johnny B.
Badd makes his way to the ring to take
on the Yellow Dog (Brian Pillman under
a mask) who is accompanied by, and again
I am just quoting here, "Man's
Best Friend."
Not
only that, but get the rest of his introduction.
For years, I've maintained that WCW
Special Forces was the dumbest hometown
ever, but after hearing Gary
Michael Capetta introduce Yellow Dog
with a straight face  , I may have to rethink that.
Other
than that, the only highlight of the
match (which ended in a DQ, thrilling
the crowd even more) would be Pillman
calling Johnny "Johnny B. Gay"
and Ross
scrambling to apologize to viewers at
home . |
And
here's WrestleCrap inductees five and
six, as we get a lumberjack match pitting
Big Josh (sadly without the dancing
bears from his debut) against Blackblood
(Billy Jack Haynes under a mask).
Poor
Yellow Dog's honor of having the worst
hometown in the history of wrestling
doesn't even last 10 minutes, as Blackblood's
place of origin is so insanely retarded that "The
Kennel Club" sounds like "Richmond"
in comparison.
Put
it this way: when JIM ROSS is busting
on your home town, you might want to
come up with something else.
Big
Josh wins, of course, to the delight
of pretty much no one in the crowd,
and Blackblood is headed back to "a
little town in France." Poor guy. |
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|
WrestleCrap
inductee seven (!!), El Gigante, makes
his way to the ring to take on One
Man Gang. But The Giant's not coming
alone, oh no, as he's brought a whole
slew of midgets with him (at least
I think you call a group of midgets
a "slew", kinda like a group
of fish is called a "school").
You
might be wondering why, precisely,
El Gigante brought MIDGETS to the
ring with him. Well here, in a WrestleCrap
exclusive, is
a transcript of what went down backstage
that night:
Kevin
Sullivan: "Dusty, what are all
these midgets doing backstage?"
Dusty
Rhodes : "Damnit, those teenie
weenahs was supposed to be out there
wit Oz as his munchkins!"
Sullivan:
"Well, now what?"
Dusty:
"Shit, I don't know, throw 'em
out there wit Elegante."
And
just like in all those mythological
tales of yore, the midgets and giants
prevailed.
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Finally,
the crowd wakes up as Sting comes out
to face Nikita Koloff in a chain match.
Actually a decent enough match given
the stips, which suck. Plus, there was
no massive build up beforehand where
both guys exploded, like in Sting's
later chain match with Vader, White
Castle of Fear. I don't know about you,
but I'd pay big money to see Nikita
burst into flames. |
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| |
And
at long last, it's time for the world
championship battle, with Luger taking
on Barry Windham. Just to hammer home
the point of Windham not being in
contention for the belt in forever,
Tony mentions that it's been four
years since he had a world title shot.
FOUR
YEARS.
The
belt itself was a problem, as Herd
had yet to successfully retrieve the
one Flair ha taken with him to the
WWF. WCW's solution? Slap some plates
on an old tag belt, and call it the
world title. I've seen indy promotions
drawing 40 people with better belts.
But
the big story of this match was the
fact that the fans, who WCW had pissed
off all night with horrible match
after horrible match, absolutely went
postal, chanting "We
Want Flair" at every single
opportunity. Even Ross didn't know
what to say.
The
end mercifully came when heel manager
Harley Race came down to ringside,
and told Luger "Now's the time!"which
was Luger's cue to hit Windham with
the world's sloppiest piledriver.
A three count later, Luger was the
champ, and a heel at that.
To
say the fans were displeased would
be an understatement. They no doubt
figured that, despite all the chaos,
they'd at least get a babyface champion
at the end of the night.
But
as was so often the case, WCW delighted
in swerving their own fans.
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| Hell,
they even swerved them as to what the
main event was, as the final bout on
the show was a cage match featuring
Paul Heyman and Missy Hyatt as competitors.
Think about that one for a while. |
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For
all you new Crappers who weren't around to see
this catastrophe live and in the flesh, FEAR
NOT! Rumor
has it that none other then Dusty Rhodes
himself has been hanging out in Stamford, interviewing
for a job with the WWE creative department.
One
can only hope that one day be able to top his
personal best of seven WrestleCrap inductees
on a single show!
We're
cheering for you, Big Dust!
Gary Michael Capetta: "Introducing
first, from the Kennel Club, at 226 pounds,
along with Man's Best Friend, Ladies and Gentlemen,
the Yellow Dog!"
Yellow Dog: "Johnny don't B. Badd,
Johnny B. Gay!"
Jim Ross: "Well, um, that's certainly the
opinion of the Yellow Dog, and not of World
Championship Wrestling or this cable company."
Gary Michael Capetta: "And ladies and
gentlemen, his opponent, from a LITTLE TOWN
IN FRANCE, weighing 276 pounds, Black Blood!"
Jim Ross: "A little town in France? What
is that, Smallville?"
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