The moral of “This is Awful” this week is to stop complaining about the state of wrestling, before Kamala the Ugandan Giant steals your soul. Let me explain. Right before WCW became the talk of the wrestling world, before Scott Hall, dressed head-to-toe in acid wash denim jumped the barricade on Nitro, World Championship Wrestling was out of its damn mind. The years of 1990 to summer 1996 were some of the goofiest in history, which could be why I love them so much.
For a while, post 2003, I really had lost my taste for modern wrestling, the Evolution storyline was a bore for me after the whirlwind of Attitude’s last days and the Invasion arc. I’d yet to hear of ROH, and TNA wouldn’t hit my radar until 2007. Going without wrestling is like a squirrel going without evil intentions. So I decided to go backwards and get more information about ECW and WCW, which I’d never really seen aside from the big moments, Bash at the Beach 1996 for instance. I picked up a bunch of bootleg tapes from a flea market. Suffice it to say that over that summer I did not get a tan, I sat and repeatedly viewed the shows, and fell in love. They were 13 pre New World Order, WCW PPV’s, and they blew my mind. I knew guys like Rey Mysterio, Chris Jericho and William Regal, but I hadn’t seen them putting on these sorts of matches. It seemed as though the audience didn’t care, but I was entranced by the variety of styles in one three hour program.
Then there were the main events…
During this time Hulk Hogan and Randy Savage jumped over to WCW, where up until then it was Sting and Ric Flair as the company’s top draws. In doing so they brought with them some over the top theatrics that had made the WWF king in the 80’s. Where the WWF was campy yet innocent fun, WCW was attempting to take it one step further with completely unfeasible stipulation matches and storylines that would have made Doink the Clown cringe with embarrassment. These matches would feature men sloppily going through the motions seemingly in the calm before the NWO storm.
Main event work-rates aside, the undercards usually featured innovators like Eddie Guerrero and Dean Malenko having technical exciting matches. Commentators Bobby Heenan and Tony Schiavone barely paid attention, and spent the time discussing the main event or making fun of Dusty Rhodes inability to use real words.
Anytime a man with a perm and mustach
e brings a confetti canon to the ring you know good times are about to be had. Johnny B. Badd was everything great about the WCW during those days, flamboyant, excitable and nearly incomprehensible during interviews. He and his “Badd Blaster” (the confetti gun’s trademarked name) were a nod to Little Richard that nobody needed. It was Honky Tonk Man taken to a surreal extreme. He’d also often slip out of the gimmick in the middle of interviews to give it a new dimension; it was like a Picasso sculpture suddenly coming to life and being disappointing he isn’t worth more.
Let’s next talk about the greatest stable in the history of wrestling. Four Horsemen? Nope. Degeneration X? Not a chance. Oh the NWO? Close, but of course I’m talking about the Dungeon of Doom. They introduced the Big Show, then known as the Giant, they gave us one of my favorite matches the Tower of Doom match at Uncensored 96’, and they painted on eyebrows to make Kevin Sullivan the Taskmaster look like an Asian Bobcat Goldthwait.
We can’t forget Halloween Havoc’ 95 when Hogan, clad in black to indicate he was really REALLY seriously annoyed about the Dungeon of Doom, was in a monster truck battle with the Giant on top of a stadium. How about the numerous War Games matches? Awkward to sit through, it seemed like no one knew what the heck to do once they got in the cage; they often became one tedious chop of the chest after another.
If you were to ask Hulk Hogan in 1994 what he thought of the feud with Kevin Sullivan’s Dungeon of Doom he probably would have said it was terrible, or at least embarrassing, which it was surely. To anyone watching it, overly educated marks that lost their essential love of the sport, I’m sure they’d agree with the critics general panning of the era, but to me, it will always be my favorite period in wrestling, a microcosm of insanity I wish could have lived forever. Instead in a few years time it had descended into Dennis Rodman being a tag-champ and David Arquette a world-champ. That’s a lot worse than Brutus Beefcake in zebra print face paint and tassels or Diamond Dallas Page in a pink leotard.
The spirit of WCW’s best days hasn’t been lost forever, even though some involved wish to put it behind them like a recently treated STD. With an independent scene so full of amazing talent, it makes you proud to be a wrestling fan; there are now hundreds of types of promotions and performers to satisfy every niche of the market. Promotions like Chikara and Inter-Species Wrestling provide the perfect balance of off-the-wall antics and cutting edge exciting as hell wrestling matches. I couldn’t recommend them more, but as this is an indie website I’m sure you’re all well aware of their greatness.
“Going without wrestling is like a squirrel going without evil intentions.” This legit made me LOL