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Showing posts with label mr t. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mr t. Show all posts

Monday, 2 March 2009

Retro Mania - Wrestlemania 2

After the success of Wrestlemania, Vince and co. knew that it would not be a one-time-only deal, and set abut plans for the sequel.

Rather than settle for one big arena, they decided that Wrestlemania 2 would take place in three venues. In New York, Chicago and LA they would have an hours worth each, giving the show a very different feel.

Frankly, it was a mistake, and this show did not live up to the first edition. However, that shouldn’t stop us taking a look at his historical significance.

And making fun of it, of course.


We start by heading to New York and Vince in the ring, where he announces his co-commentator. Bruno Sammartino? No. Maybe Pat Patterson will do a stint? Nope, not even him.

“The number on actress in the United States today.” Susan St James. She was, and indeed is, married to Dick Ebersol who has been one of the biggest names in American TV, an important executive for NBC, and a personal friend of Vince McMahon. St James was legitimately a big-name American TV actress, earning tons of Emmy Award nominations.

Those credentials do not translate to wrestling commentary, though.

Ray Charles sings America the Beautiful for about seventeen minutes, then Gene Mean says hi from Chicago. Quickly they send it to Piper, who does a characteristically mad promo about Mr T, who he will have a boxing match with in New York’s main event.

First in the ring, we have Mr Fuji and Don Muraco, stars of the wonderful skits such as Fuji Vice on the TNT programme, who will face Paul Orndorff. Orndorff was in the main event as a heel last year, but is now jerking the curtain as a babyface.

Some comments play from each man, but they are not shown in screen, which actually makes it a bit creepy. Susan says her first words on commentary, but frankly I’m watching Orndorff do the ‘slitty eyes’ gesture to the Japanese Mr Fuji. Hmm, how cosmopolitan. They’d probably get sued if he did that now.

Anyway, the fact that I didn’t listen to Ms St James to begin with was a blessing, because she seems to be saying “woah” and “That’s going to make him mad” like a Susan St James doll with a pull string in the back.

Orndorff has a wristlock applied for several minutes, to which our expert suggest he is “using some ancient Chinese techniques”. Erm, ok, if you say so Susan.

The match is pretty slow. Two (allegedly) jacked up guys who are not very mobile. Eventually they spill to the outside and get counted out. Paul throws a chair into the ring, prompting Vince to suggest he might get DQ-ed. But he doesn’t, apparently, notice Howard Finkel in the ring, because this one is over – double count out.

Howard takes a week to announce the decision, while the crowd chant bullshit. Vince panics, and sends it backstage to Mr T, along with Joe Frazier and a midget. T is talking rubbish, and Finkel now gives the verdict over the top. This hasn’t been the most technical show so far.

Next we have IC title action, with George “the Animal” Steele challenging Macho Man Randy Savage for the gold. It’s the old-fashioned “idiot babyface love beautiful valet of nefarious heel” story. Susan is really up for this, explaining how Macho Man needs to be taught a lesson and that she is rooting for the animal.

She has, by the way, added “uh-oh” to her pull-string vocabulary, and as the simian-like Steele gnaws on, well, the boot of Macho Man, she utters the immortal lines “Yey, George, eat her leg.” I actually miss Gorilla’s lateral collaterals and all that jazz.

If you are upset that I am not talking about wrestling, it’s because very little is happening, and Susan St James is so staggeringly inept. To be fair, she is stunningly out of the depth, and she shouldn’t be blamed for not calling wrestling very well. I’d be no good on the runways of Milan during fashion week, but no-one would ask me to.

Anyway, as I type, George Steele has ripped up the turnbuckle pad and eaten some of it, then rubbed it in Savage’s face. Very little action. Meanwhile, the “Uh-oh” level has gone through the roof.

Steele is distracted by Elizabeth, allowing Randy to capitalise, and even hit his big elbow. Steele kicks out, but Savage soon pins him using the ropes. The Animal attacks another turnbuckle and the ref, and we’re done.

Over to Chicago, where Atlanta Falcon’s footballer Bill Frenic calls John Studd “the dud”, and the big man proves he’ll win a wrestling match by squashing a football.

Back to Vinny and Suse, who seem to have armchairs. Seriously, armchairs. Like its a daytime chat show. Next up is George Wells, and he will face a man keeping the anuimal theme going, Jake “The Snake” Roberts.

And this is more like it. The match is pretty high octane from the start, with Wells looking good, including an impressive headscissor-like takedown. Jake cuts him off with a thumb to the eye. One knee-lift and a DDT later, and this is over.

Jake pours his python over Wells, and Vince and Susan make all kind of noises to indicate that they disapprove.

Or do they? Maybe those grunts and groans mean something else is going on inside that commentary box. “Put that thing back inside it’s bag” Says Susan. Is she talking to Vince?

“Does he remind you of anyone you know, Susan?” Says Vinny Mac. Maybe he is talking about a snake. Who knows?

Vince throws it to Jesse in LA, who is with Hulk Hogan. The Hulkster is sporting the worst bandanna/headband I have ever seen. They play up the fact that Hogan’s ribs are hurt, but Hulk says he’ll be fine, essentially.

From LA and Hogan to NYC and......Joan Rivers? Ok, whatever. Rivers says this is wonderful, just incredible. She does this apparently from a position standing on a roundabout. She is guest ring announcer, it seems, and she introduces the judges......eventually. Also some guy called Herb, who I think was from an advert in the States for Burger King or Wendys or something.

When you think of how slick proceedings are for WWE events these days, this looks so shoddy it is untrue. Joan Rivers doesn’t know who people are, the commentators speak over her, there is no music for the participants to emerge to, Mr T was shown while Piper was getting announced – general chaos.

The match isn’t wildly better. It’s one thing to work an arm bar or learn how to receive a suplex, and sell it to make it look as though it hurts. When you have to make it look like a legit boxing contest, with essentially a wrestler and an actor, it isn’t so easy.

It is basically a hugging contest with the occasional weak punch. Piper tries a few heel tactics such as hitting T when the ref is trying to separate them, but the crowd aren’t that keen on Mr T. Midway through round two Piper (sort of) lands some blows and down goes T. These people are cheering Piper. A “Roddy” chant starts up.

Round ends, and during time Bob Orton, seconding Piper, throws water over T. Round 3 sees a comeback, with T landing a huge left which causes Piper to powder. One other knockdown (although Roddy just sat in a neutral corner, really)means T has two knockdowns, so Vince starts playing up the idea that one more ends the match.

Round four starts with Piper throwing his stool (the one he sits one, not the dirty one) at T, and they start trading punches without covering up. Piper soon throws the ref down and bodyslams Mr T. It’s chaos.

And Susan says “Uh-Oh”

That’s it for NYC, and we’re with Gorilla, who will be commentating with Gene Mean. Or will he, we now have Cathy Lee Crosby, in an outfit that Max Moon and Techno Team 2000 both rejected. Another American TV actress, this time one that says “this is my first ever wrestling match in person” – we have quite the expert.

We start with Velvet McInitye v Fabulous Moolah, and it lasts but a short while. Moolah wins after Ms McInyre misses a splash, and then covers her in a very worrying manner. If you are watching the footage along with this review, you will see just how bizarre this image is.

Gene Mean, in between matches, asks Cathy Lee what she thinks about the upcoming Wrestlers v Football players battle royal because “Cathy Lee, you’ve been aligned with a football player or two.” I have no idea of Ms Crosby’s relationship history, but Gene seems to be suggesting she is sleeping her way through the NFL. How nice.

Flag match next, with Corporal Kirchner getting the biggest reaction of the night so far for interrupting Nikolai Volkoff’s rendition of the Soviet anthem. Not enough people sing their own anthems any more. Maybe Koslov could try that.

Kirchner emerges to the strains of the Army Goes Rolling Along song that I know better from Hoover adverts, and makes short work of Volkoff. Nikolai’s manager Freddie Blassie throws his charge a cane, but the Corporal intercepts, and larrups the Russian with it. The ref was down, by the way.

The Flag match rules just mean that Kirchner is allowed to wave his flag by way of celebration. It has to be reiterated that the crowd go wild for this win.

Gene Mean takes over the ring announcing duties for the battle royal. Firstly, he announces a lady called Clare Peller, who has one line to say, and fails to say it into the microphone. Dick Butkus and Ed “Too tall” Jones are introduced as guest referees. What a great nickname, that is. “Too Tall”. I bet they were up all night thinking of that one, his team mates.

“Hey, this Ed Jones guy, what shall we call him?”
“Maybe we could call him shorty?”
“Nah, he’s too tall.”
“Yeah, that’s the one! We’ll call him Too Tall.”

The combatants are announced by Gene Mean, and I’m afraid I can’t keep up with all the footballers, but from the wrestling side of the equation we have Pedro Morales, Tony Atlas, Ted Arcidi (interestingly Tony Atlas immediately preceded Arcidi to the ring. Arcidi at this point was billed as the strongest man in the world), Danny Spivey (Waylon Mercy), Hillbilly Jim, King Tonga (Haku), Iron Sheik, B. Brian Blair, Jim Brunzell, Big John Studd, Bret Hart, Jim Neidhart, Bruno Sammartino and Andre the Giant.

William Perry, of the Chicago Bears, in announced second to last. “The Refrigerator”, as he was known, was one of the biggest stars of Pro Football in the 80s, and the Bears had just won the Superbowl, so this was a clever piece of booking. Perry is one of the celebrity inductees in the WWE Hall of Fame (with Pete Rose) and was a big deal here.

A footballer and Haku are gone first, as commentary is provided by Ernie Ladd, also a hall of famer. Bruno slings another footballer, while Andre and Studd lock up in a rematch from last year. Brunzell is next to go, and meanwhile it should be pointed out that Cathy Lee is doing a far better job than Susan St James. Mainly because she knows to say very little apart from wonder about how big people are or say “look, they’re out.”

Perry eliminates Atlas to a big cheer, and Morales takes a footballer out and goes himself. Hillbilly Jim throws Arcidi, and Sheik drops the shoulder on “Golden Boy” Spivey. The Iranian then topples Hillbilly and Brian Blair. Iran, Number one!

Studd gets rid of Fralic, who he faced off with on camera earlier. Bruno gets rid of Sheiky, but the camera misses it. Seven guys left – a footballer, Andre, Studd, Bruno, The Hart Foundation and Perry.

Bruno is next out thanks to Big John, and a big tackle by the Fridge knocks Bret and Anvil over the ropes, but not to the floor. Studd gets rid of Perry, and Perry offers a hand of friendship. Double cross, and Perry pulls Studd out.

The sole remaining footballer is called Russ Francis, it seems, and Andre gets tied up while Francis is beaten by Bret and Anvil.

They sling Russ, and it’s two on one. Andre, of course, is man enough to hold both Hart Foundation members off. Andre hits a big boot and Neidhart takes the most stupid bump over the top you’ve ever seen. Andre then lifts Bret over and throws him onto Anvil. Andre wins.

That was fun. It wasn’t superb, but the crowd ate it up, especially the sideshow involving Perry. Andre built a career on winning Battle Royals, so it’s fitting he got to win one at Wrestlemania.

Back to Vince and Susan (oh joy) who are with Piper. They’d obviously realised at this point that you can give Piper air time for as long as is necessary and he’ll just go off on one. Standard cocky heel rhetoric really, but when Piper does it, it is simply more entertaining than most.

Back in Chi-Town, a footballer from the Bears says he got cheated, while the Iron Sheik talks his usual sense. He’d have won f Nikolai was there, he says.

Next up, it’s a tag team match, pitting Luscious Johnny Valiant’s team of Brutus Beefcake and Greg Valentine. They are champs here. Poorly piped in Rule Britannia signals the fact that the opponents are the British Bulldogs. Their manager is Capt Lou, and they have Ozzy Osbourne with them.

Gene Mean says that Ozzy is from Manchester (he is from Birmingham). Monsoon asks if that is where Lord Alfred is from. Gene says that’s Windermere. In fairness, Lord Alfred was billed from Windermere, but was actually from Luton. At least he went to school in Luton. I know this because it’s where my entire family are from.

Anyway, back to the match, and the incomparable Dynamite Kid is all over Valentine. Dynamite, real name Tom Billington, was light years ahead of his time. So great to watch.

This is a fun match. A proper tag affair with the momentum switching from one side to the other. Eventually the heels get the upper hand, with sporadic comebacks keeping the crowd alive. Gene Mean says “At ringside Ozzy Osbourne is literally shaking” – that will be some sort of downer he is on, I would expect.

Dynamite tags Bulldog in, who hits the running powerslam, but I guess it’s before he was an established finisher, because the Hammer kicks out and nothing much is made of it.

Hammer goes for a pin but pulls Davey up before the three, in another heel manoeuvre you see little of nowadays. Soon, the match is over, but in a strange way. Dynamite climbs up a rope or two, and Davey manages to fling Greg into the corner. Valentine and Dynamite slam heads, Davey covers, and it’s three. Wow. That was unexpected.

General nonsense from Albano, stoned out one-liner from Ozzy, then Davey Boy promises they;ll stay in America. Of course you will, you moron, you’re the champs, you can hardly bugger off home now.

Back to Vince for a moment, and Susan expresses her love for that last match in a voice I would imagine a castrated Road Warrior Hawk to speak in. Vince asks her who’ll win the main event. She says “Well, Hulk, come on. For sure. Definitely.” Wow, Susan must have been in the booking meeting.

Vince’s eyes are all over the place, and I get the feeling he is being told to stall in his headphones. Vince must hate that – people being annoying in headphones is not his style, I wouldn’t think.

Jesse Ventura welcomes us to LA, and he has Elvira, a glamourous, risqué character of the time. She has a low cut dress on, showing off her obvious charms. Ironically, the other side of Jesse is Lord Alfred, who was a big tit.

Ricky Steamboat takes on Hercules Hernandez first off, and it’s always a pleasure to watch Steamboat. He has a scarf tied around his knee, and Elvira shows she is playing heel a little, suggesting it makes Ricky look like “a wimp”. Jesse agrees, and seems happy that he might have something to work with here.

Impressive early stuff from Steamboat, before a cheap one from Hercules turns the tables. The match slows right down so he can hit some power moves and build some sympathy for The Dragon.

Herc goes aerial and flies into Steamboat’s knees, so Ricky dives up top and hits his signature flying bodypress. A very quick count and it’s over. Jesse bemoans the fast count, and he’s right. Lord Alfred says that the ref could have counted four.

A cut on the DVD there, as maybe a local promotion spot or something was deliberately left out.

In the ring is Adorable Adrian Adonis, resplendent in a dress and make up. The crowd chant “Faggot”. Oh, these were enlightened days, weren’t they? Orndorff making fun on Mr Fuji’s eyes, Piper talking about blacking up and now ‘faggot’ chants. Hmmm. Thank God we’ve moved on (well, most of us. WWE are a little bit behind on occasions)

Adonis will face “Uncle Elmer”, who is one of a proliferation of Hillbillies that abounded at this time. Like most of them, he had no talent. Adonis was a huge man, but could bump like a mad thing, and the opening exchanges look ridiculous as Elmer hits weak looking Irish whips and punches, one of which is so terrible he falls down himself.

Adonis wins, which is only right, since he was the only worker in the match. Elvira says she never trusts a man in pink legwarmers. That’s a very good rule to live by. Although it’s only really this match and the movie Fame in which that tends to apply.

Elvira suggests it’s a shame that such a big guy (Elmer) has to suffer such pain. Jesse says he doesn’t mind it, and Elvira says “so I’ve heard”. Alfred doesn’t like this flirtation, so coldly (and hilariously) says that he is a wrestler and that’s what he signs up for.

Backstage, it’s Lord Alfred with Hogan, for no apparent reason, because we’ve already seen Hogan talk trash to Bundy once. Hogan still has the same stupid headband/bandanna on, and even Alfred gets bored of him and talks over the last bit of the interview.

Back ringside, Jesse and Alfred (man, he can move quick) talk about The Funk brothers, Terry and Hoss. Hoss is Dory, by the way, and this is the combination who will be indicted into this year’s Hall of Fame class. Not Jimmy Jack. Not Flash, either.

They will face Tito Santana and Junkyard Dog, who start off like the proverbial House of fire. It takes Terry to break up a pin after Tito hits his flying forearm, and then he nails Santana in the back when the future El Matador runs the ropes.

From here its the Funks all the way until Tito gets the hot tag to JYD. Then it’s havoc. Terry Funk starts to show his hardcore colours, taking a big clothesline over the top (no mats on the floor) then gets slammed onto a combination of chairs and tables on the outside. Jimmy Hart gets a slap from the Dog and Tito gets a figure four on Hoss. While the ref tries to get Tito out, Jimmy throws Terry his megaphone, and the younger Funk smacks JYD with it. The fans chant ‘bullshit’ as the Funks get the win. Terry would be gone a few weeks later.

More Hogan stuff, as they are really bigging up his back and ribs injury. They show footage of Bundy attacking Hogan on Saturday Night Main Event, and then Hogan working out in his private gym. It now seems a bit overkill, but it shouldn’t be forgotten that Hogan was such a major star at this point that all this was done to make sure there was doubt amongst the Hulkamaniacs that Hulkster might not retain.

Bobby Heenan and King Kong Bundy confidently predict victory in an interview with Jesse Ventura. Vince and Susan waffle for a bit. They are stalling a bit here because of the time taken to set the cage up.

Finally we are ready for the match. The timekeeper is a young actor called Ricky Schroeder, while the ref is Wild Wild West star Robert Conrad.

This is a cage match, and I’ve always thought it odd that these matches have the clause that you can win by walking out the door. Climbing over the top I’d let slide, but through the door? Imagine having a match without a cage that you could win by falling through the ropes.

Hogan is on top early, pummelling with punches, big boots, clothelines and so forth. Bundy catches Hogan in ribs, and from here the formula is Bundy knocks Hogan down and goes for the door, then Hogan fights back. Then repeat process. Bundy pulls Hogan’s bandages protecting his ribs off at one point and Elvira excitedly thinks clothes are being shed.

Hogan comes back and rams Bundy into the bars. Bundy blades and Hogan is all over him. Hulk climbs and chokes Bundy as he goes. Deciding against escaping, he descends and tries to slam Bundy. No dice and he falls back. Lord Alfred makes a logical call and says it was the rib injury that stopped Hogan.

Bundy goes for the door but Hogan chokes him with the bandages. Bundy turns tables and hits an avalanche. Bundy follows up with a splash which is caught by a terrific camera angle. Hogan just makes it to stop Bundy. Second avalanche is met by the Hulk-up eyes. Reversal of a whip into a corner followed by a powerslam. Leg drop, and Hogan ascends the bars. Bundy stops him but Hogan kicks him back down. Heenan stops Hogan, and Bundy crawls for the door. Hulk makes it first, and it’s over.

It, of course, was not a great wrestling match, but it had plenty of excitement. The crowd were completely into it, and it had the right pay off. Hogan bashes Heenan around a bit, and the announcer says “.....of the world, Hulk Hogan.” I assume that should have been “winner, and still champion......” and not “news” or “King” or “His favourite Carpenters song is top......”

Hogan poses while Jesse exclaims disgust. They send it back to Vince and Susan, who says virtually nothing, and this one is over.

The important aspects to look at here are really the developments in character and presentation. This was far inferior to the previous year’s show, but you’ve only got to look at the crowd reactions to certain elements to tell Vince where he needed to go. T and Piper got shit on from a great height by the New York crowd, but anything with Hogan, a celeb with as high a profile as William Perry, and pro-USA sentiment went over big. Steamboat, Savage and Jake Roberts all looked impressive in their encounters, as did the British Bulldogs.

There were far too many boring filler matches, and the celebrity involvement for the most part was embarrassing and made little sense.

Onto Number three, and the Pontiac Silverdome.......

Thursday, 26 February 2009

Retro Mania - Wrestlemania 1

It’s March 31, 1985.

No, really it is. It’s the start of a Pay per View that has never been done before. And it’s the start of my Wrestlemania retro reviews. I’m going to try and get through all that I can. I tried to do this with Royal Rumbles last year and never quite got up to date. Hopefully I can cover all the Manias possible.

There may be two exceptions. I don’t have copies of Wrestlemania 22 or 23. Perhaps some kind soul will send a copy my way, who knows? J

I intend this to be a light hearted look back on the Wrestlemanias. I will be scating here and there, I will be complimentary here and there. The likelihood is that I will occasionally be harsh on the old fashioned way of producing television, but that isn’t the intention.

We kick off with an old fashioned soft rock tune and a stills montage of the wrestlers and personalities who will be involved before the first words of Wrestlemania are spoken “Welcome everyone, Gorilla Monsoon ringside with my colleague Jesse “the Body” Ventura.”

From time to time I miss Gorilla’s voice. He was such a lovable character and had such an inoffensive way about him. Jesse was an old scholl heel broadcaster that we would basically not see the likes of until JBL’s run on the Smackdown headsets. Jesse has a spectacularly garish Pink suit on. Ugh. Gorilla hands it over to the Fink.

It’s anthem time – and what a quiz question this would be. Who sung the anthem at the first Wrestlemania?

No, don’t know?

Mean. Gene. Okerland. No really, he did. I think he said “bums” and not “bombs” and even did a little “everybody” before the song kicks up a notch. Hideous singing, but lovely sentiment.

Jesse rates Mean Gene up there with Robert Goulet, he says. I think Goulet sung at Wrestlemania VI, didn’t he?

Over to the equally lovable but staggeringly rubbish Lord Alfred Hayes, who mumbles his words sufficiently to tell us that Tito Santana is wrestling The Executioner. The masked man walks past Alfred while he is talking, so no music here. You forget that things like that even existed.

Gene and Tito know nothing about The Executioner, who as I understand it was Playboy Buddy Rose under a hood. Standard wrestling would make you think the masked guy would be mysterious, but not only does he speak, but he tells Tito that he is going after his leg. Little mystique behind this guy.

Announcements with Fink. Weight unknown and from parts unknown. A little mystique back, there. Big cheer for Santana. He was a great guitarist. I love smooth, particularly.

This is actually a fun match. It’s not a classic but it’s not stupidly short, has some nice to-ing and fro-ing, and includes a nice spot where Tito propels Executioner over the ropes, and ends with the big forearm, which Bobby Heenan used to call “The Flying Jalapena” and then ends it with the figure four, which the announcers say is a message to Greg Valentine. I love how this is Wrestlemania, and it’s a build of a storyline!

Next is King Kong Bundy v SD Jones. Bundy looked shockingly like a clean shaven Big Show.

They hook up.......and it’s over. Shoulderblock, avalanche, splash, and that’s it. Bundy wins in about twenty seconds, although they announce it as nine. It wasn’t that quick.

When was the last time we had such a squash at Mania? Oh yeah, like last year, when Chavo lost to Kane.

The matches coming thick and fast. Steamboat is up next, and the rumoured inductee of this year’s Hall of Fame takes on.........Doink. Well, it’s Matt Borne, wrestling in that name, several years before he put the clown suit on. That’s the real Bourne Identity.

Tip for you when watching Doink. Borne was left handed, so when the clown is a southpaw, it’s Borne. After that, it’s other people, usually Ray Apollo.

Steamboat wins a reasonably slow one with a crossbody. Lots of headlocks and little wrestling. We have to wait a couple of Manias until Ricky Steamboat gets going.

David Sammartino is up next with his old man, the Living legend. His opponent, manager by Johhny Valiant, is Brutus Beefcake. I forget he was a heel back then. His contribution to the backstage interviews is to blow a raspberry. Classy, Ed, classy.

Brutus (or Bruti, as Gorilla nearly always called him) and David battle away at a reasonably slow pace, with Brutus really hamming it up, 1980s WWE style. Not a criticism at all, this was the way the wind was blowing.

A note on the commentary. It’s really, really in depth. Gorilla and Jesse talk tactics, call on their own experiences and even talk about how greasing your body clogs pores and stops your skin breathing! How I miss incisive commentating rather than Cole saying interchangeable “Diva of the Day” stuff and talking about “swashbuckling” or “leaping ability”.]

The match ends in a double DQ, thanks to Valiant slamming David on the floor, prompting Bruno to get involved. The fans don’t care, they are simply delighted to see Bruno get into the ring and throw a few punches and kicks. Father and son clear the ring, and the draw is called. This is easily the most the crowd have got into this so far, and it’s because Bruno was such a legend, especially in MSG.

Next up we have our first title match, and Lord Alfred talks up JYD, Junkyard Dog. “His charisma is second to none.” Don’t put yourself down, Alfy baby, you are a pretty charismatic dude, yourself.

JYD takes on Greg “The Hammer” Valentine, who has Jimmy Hart with him, for the Intercontinental title. JYD calls Jimmy Hart a weasel. Did they call Hart that before Heenan came along? Or was that a one-off?

We have some music, but by the sound of the DVD it wasn’t what I’m hearing now, because Fink’s voice sounds dubbed on. However, it’s the first entrance music of the event, so this tells you how highly thought of JYD was.

More of the crowd getting involved, and a very strange match ending. First Jimmy Hart shows you what a good antagonist he is, by riling the crowd, then delighting them but getting knocked to the ground by his own guy. Pretty hard landing, too. JYD takes control, to the audience’s delight, but Valentine gets a pin with his feet on the ropes.

Wait, here’s Tito. Santana tells the ref about the feet on the ropes, prompting the ref to restart the match. What? How the hell does he get to influence like that? The ref starts to count with The Hammer on the outside, and with Jimmy convincing his charge not to go back in the ring, gets counted out.

Of course, the title does not change hands, but the crowd go wild for the JYD win anyway. Odd stuff.

Next is tag action, with Barry Windham and Mike Rotundo (“Great Afflutes” according to Alfred) against the Iron Sheik and Nikolai Volkoff. I love this act, and can watch them all day. Sheik gets his words muddled and calls Mr Okerland “Gene Mean” while Volkoff, the Russian (Lithuanian, I think, actually) speaks in Latin. Go figure.

The heels have Blassie with them, while the babyfaces have Captain Lou, who in his backstage interview appears to have been stabbed by matadors, judging by the things he has sticking out of his face. Bloody Santana throwing his weight around again, I bet.

Volkoff does his singing of the anthem to a chorus of boos. Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Comrade Jillian Hall! That’s money right there.

The crowd go mad for the entrance of tag champs Rotundo and Windham, collectively the US Express. For some reason Finkel only announces Rotundo.

Back and forth tag action, which ends with Sheik levelling Windham with Blassie’s cane. New champs here, but no sign of Sherriff Santana demanding justice. That’s a shame.

The heels laugh in an evil manner before Blassie says he never had a cane – last time I heard someone deny something like that he got impeached – and Sheik talks more rubbish as per usual.

Big John Studd – along with Heenan, so the earlier ‘weasel’ wonderings get stranger – is out with $15,000 for Andre the Giant, as long as the Frenchman slams his adversary. If not, Giant has to retire.

Wait, now they are chanting ‘weasel’. Forget everything I’ve said.

Match, as you would expect with two barely mobile 400+ guys (although that’s a little unfair on Studd, who was in reasonable shape) is slow and methodical, with very little to write home about.

It ends with Andre slamming him opponent, netting him 15k and saving his career. Brilliantly, Andre doesn’t immediately celebrate, he simply turns and asks for the cash. He decides to distribute it with the fans, but it cut of by Heenan, who leaves with the bag full of money.

Backstage Andre says he doesn’t want to retire, which is fortunate given the stip. He wants to say more, but he gets cut off.

To Lord Alfred, who gets a smacker from the Fabulous Moolah and then Leilani Kai, signalling the ladies match. Mean Gene has the girls for a word, and Cyndi Lauper cuts best promo of the four.

Kai says something about coming back with her hand as victor. I think she meant ‘hand raised.’ She better come back with her hand, unless Sheik was a Minister of Justice for Iran and demands she have it cut off.

To the strains of Lauper’s hit “Girls just Wanna have fun” here’s Wendi Richter, and she was a huge star back then. This match was crucial in the build to Mania, what with the Rock’n’Wrestling cross promotioj with MTV. Or “Wrestling Rock” as Lord Alfred called it. Sorry to keep ragging on him, but as nice a guy as he may have been, the guy makes Adamle look like The Rock.

The match is awful, and they botch the ending when Kai’s cross body was supposed to be rolled through, but it looked terrible. Cyndi does the thumb-on-the-nose-and-waggle-your-fingers gesture that we all did when we were seven at Moolah, then it’s to the back for a word with Gene Mean, as I will call him from now on.

Cyndi says that she was keeping an eye on Moolah “I brought my towel, because she’s bigger than me”. I don’t know why that isn’t used in hardcore matches more often, the old towel trick.

Main event time, and local Baseball legend Billy Martin handling the ring announcing. He brings out guest timekeeper Liberace who kicks in time with some dancing girls for an eternity. Come on, get on with it. Why isn’t the ref stopping this?

The camera pans out – the ref is Pat Patterson. Question answered.

Guest enforcer time, and it’s some boxer fella. Forget his name.........

Just kidding, it’s the Greatest of All Time, Muhammed Ali, or Cassius Clay as he was in a former gimmick.

Bagpipes sound, and play Scotland the Brave for Canadian born Rowdy Roddy Piper, with Paul Orndorff in tow. Piper clearly loved all this. He was such a great heel. I hated watching Piper as a face, not because he wasn’t still good, but because he was such an awesome heel. Cowboy Bob Orton is with Piper and Orndorff.

“Real American” hits and it’s Hogan and Mr T with Jimmy Snuka seconding them. What follows is a masterclass in how to run a match will little wrestling and plenty of razzmatazz. It’s chaos. Ali gets in the ring and swings punches, Mr T does the odd slam and the announcers go mad as if he is the greatest wrestler they’ve ever seen, and everybody hams it up big style.

Most importantly, the crowd go nuts. The thing to notice is that this all feels like a huge deal, with the elusive ‘big fight’ feel, which is a phrase now almost dead thanks to Todd Grisham using it for Jack Swagger v Matt Hardy or other matches of such calibre.

Do you know, I’ve been trying to work out who TNA referee Shane Sewell looks like – it’s Orndorff. That’s been annoying me for weeks.

Heels get the upper hand as in most tag matches, but the big comeback is absent. The pop is reserved for Snuka cutting off Orton in the ring, but when the ref deals with Superfly, Orton, complete with his ubiquitous cast, ascends the ropes (err, Ali? Where are you?). He jumps off but strikes Orndorff inseatd of Hogan. Hulkster covers, and it’s over.

It’ll never be considered one of the great wrestling matches, but it is truly an iconic “Sports-Entertainment” moment. The spectacle was genuinely unique, and was so well-executed it started off a true legacy.