It seems that a week never goes by in which I don’t rag on Triple H. Facts are facts: I just plain don’t like the guy. Call me biased, I really don’t care. I just find him dull to the extreme, and unworthy of the insane push he inevitably gets.
I will say this, however: I completely understand why he does everything he possibly can to remain in the spotlight. After all, he wasn’t always a star. He wasn’t always “The Game.”
Heck, he used to just be another bad gimmick. He was Hunter Hearst Helmsley, the American Blueblood. He would sit in his mansion, nose in the air, and mock those lowly cretins in the audience.
Still, even with his crappy persona, he was given a push. Each week, he would come out to the ring, escorted by a different whorebag. For Wrestlemania XII, here he is with … ??? … why yes, it is her – Sable.
This was Hunter’s first chance on the biggest stage in pro wrestling. He bowed, then courtseyed. Surely, he would be a match for anyone the Federation was going to throw at him, right?
That’s right, once again back in an attempt to spike the ratings and nab a few easy paychecks, Mania XII marked the return of the Ullllllltimate Warrior.
Hunter started off quick against the Warrior, proving that even back then, he was the cerebral assassin.
Or maybe just the cerebral ass.
Within seconds, Hunter nailed the Warrior with the pedigree.
Now in today’s environment, that would be lights out, because no one is allowed to kick out of Hunter’s finisher.
But this was 1996, so Warrior just popped right back up.
Just imagine if someone pulled that today. Of course, that person would never work again, but he would make me happy, and I would like to think that’s a higher priority for anyone than say, feeding his family.
Warrior gives Hunter a choice: either listen to the Ultimate Fruitcake’s three hour lecture on the pros and cons of Destrucity (featuring such wisdom as “Queering don’t work”), or face the consequences.
Again, HHH proves himself to be the smartest man in the business, throwing himself into the Warrior’s waiting arms.
One big splash later…
…it was all over.
Time of the match: 92 seconds.
See, even Hunter had to start from somewhere. And in 1996, at the biggest show of the year, he was a jobber the likes of which the world hadn’t seen since the heyday of “Iron” Mike Sharpe.
And now that he is at the top of the business, and he gets to play the part of the Warrior, do you really blame Hunter for not wanting to ever job?
Hunter Hearst Helmsley: “You’re not worthy enough to polish my silverwear.”
Vince McMahon: “A boot in the midsection and here it comes. Pedigree coming up, pedigree coming…yeah!”
Jerry Lawler: “It’s over!”
McMahon: “No, it’s not!”