I have no idea what it is about Jorge Gonzalez, but in both WCW and WWF, he seemed to be thrown into stipulation matches where either the stipulation was not made clear or wasn’t even followed through on….or both. Why, just scant weeks back we had the big feller taking on Sid Vicious in a stretcher match in which he never put the guy on a stretcher, and today…well, today we get this.
A bit of backstory. Jorge Gonzalez (or El Gigante as he was known to friends) had left WCW, and was plying his trade in the WWF. RD will have to verify, but I am 99% certain that this would be the only time Jorge Gonzalez and the phrase “plying his trade” have intermingled within a sentence.
(Note from RD: Yes, that checks out, unless I’ve misplaced an old Observer in which Dave was hitting the bong. Which I don’t think he does, but the poor guy did have to watch a LOT of Jorge Gonzalez back in the day, so I can’t really blame him if he would have. Which he shouldn’t have done, of course. Remember kids: just say no.
To both drugs and Jorge Gonzalez matches.)
Anyhoo, he was in the WWF under the employ of one Dr. Harvey Whippleman, diminutive pipsqueak manager extraordinaire. Actually, Whippleman wasn’t extraordinary in any way, but typing “diminutive pipsqueak manager ordrinaire” just seems silly.
So the two show up on The King’s Court one week with Jerry Lawler to talk about how “hopping mad” he was at The Undertaker for defeating Kamala so bad that Kamala gave up wrestling to become a professional bowler.
That would make me mad too, honestly.
But it would make a very boss lunch box, so maybe I wouldn’t be quite so mad afterall.
HOPPING mad? Probably not.
But Harv was upset to the point that he had Giant Gonzalez kill Undertaker at the 1993 Royal Rumble and then have a thoroughly shoddy match at Wrestlemania IX, as if that PPV didn’t already have enough bad matches already.
Ah, bad matches. It may be hard to believe these days, but back in the day, that’s all Undertaker had. Of course, when you’re facing the King Kong Bundys and Giant Gonzalezes of the world, you consider every match above DUD a victory.
Things would get no better for everyone’s favorite undead wrestling zombie when Harvey unleashed Mr. Hughes on his fat pasty pal, who proceeded to chokeslam Paul Bearer.
Actually, “chokeslam” may be a bit of a stretch . It looked more like he picked Paul up by the stomach, and you can’t really blame the guy – with all that flab, I’m not sure he could have actually found his neck.
With Bearer unconcious, the urn, the source of The Undertaker’s supernatural power, had fallen to the mat and now Harvey Wippleman saw this as the ultimate opportunity to snatch it up…
…give it to Mr. Hughes…
…who then clocked Undertaker in the back of the head with it.
With Taker and his manager laid out, we are treated not only to a chorus of boos…
…but also this broad, who looks like she’s contemplating whether to renew her subscription to US Weekly or make the move to People.
As week after week of Harvey and Hughes taunting Taker with his urn passed by, I couldn’t help but think, and this is just my opinion, if anyone else had been in this situation, they’d….you know…OPEN the dang thing. Just out of human curiosity. There might be Twizzlers in there!
You don’t know!
Well, at least they didn’t make a gold chain out of it, we would have to wait a couple years for that GREAT angle
Missing his urn full of Twizzlers (can’t prove it doesn’t!) and his manager, The Undertaker vowed lasting revenge on Giant Gonzalez by challenging him to a “Rest in Peace” match at Summerslam ’93.
Asked by Gene exactly what, pray tell, such a match was, Taker explained that it was an encounter in which he would reach into Gonzalez’s body and pull out all his vital organs in addition to taking his soul to Hell.
Apparently the Michigan State Athletic Commission has very liberal rules about disemboweling your opponents and stealing their soul.
But on the day of the event, Fink says the rules are no count out or DQ and doesn’t mention a thing about using Mortal Kombat fatalities.
Gotta believe every 10 year old mark in the crowd feels VERY gypped.
The match goes just as well as you’d expect: horribly.
We get those patented El Gigante…I mean Giant Gonzalez punches across the back…
…plenty of lengthy chokeholds…
…and a chairshot with a crystal clear view of Gonzalez’s spray painted beast ass.
Thanks, Mr. Director.
We also get a couple whips into the steel steps…you know, just to add some technical variety.
As everyone falls asleep, the familiar bell toll is heard. And here comes Paul Bearer, carrying a black wreath with him to ringside.
The sight of Paul Bearer up and about is enough to make Harvey get tough.
“This is a job for Weenieman!
Weenie man away!”
And you call yourself a WWF Women’s title holder
Paul Bearer eyes that urn like it’s an unattended birthday cake and reclaims it to get the Undertaker back to full strength.
He “Takers Up” as Gonzalez does his Lucy and Ethel slipping on the ice selling…
…and a clothesline off the top mercifully ends it all.
Undertaker tops it off by putting the wreath next to Giant Gonzalez (whose soul and vital organs are still in his body).
That there is your “Rest in Peace” match, folks.
“Today we lay Wally Cox to rest…”
You know, I think we found Weird Al’s sequel to “CNR“.
That one’s for free, Al.
Sadly, Giant Gonzalez walked off into the sunset and was never seen in the WWF or any major wrestling promotion again.
Which is a real shame – I know I can’t be the only one longing for footage of Kamala teaching Gonzalez how to bowl.