I finally got round to watching the show in its entirety. My feelings are...
mixed.
The Steel Asylum was an appalling opening. I've always thought this match type was a shit concept with even worse execution, and this match was no exception. Eight guys trying their best to go from scripted spot to scripted spot was just painful to watch. The amount of actual talent in that ring was completely pissed away. Atrocious editing - i.e. cutting to a guy climbing the cage instead of focusing on what was actually going on in the ring - and an awful ending. I'm not sure if Homicide physically couldn't get out or he was meant to drop back down (doubtful) but it was just pathetic. If I was a WWE fan and I tuned into this shit, I'd quickly turn over.
Then, oh my God, Jeff Hardy's theme music plays and he comes through the crowd. Why was this? Well, um... It was... um... nope, no fucking logic to it. He has a brawl with Homicide and gives him an impressive chair shot before sitting on the top of the cage, symbolising how he's shitting down onto TNA's X Division. And I
like Jeff Hardy.
Then we have a woman's title match. Two words: fast forward. Sorry ladies.
Then Ric Flair gets out of a limo. It was very courteous for him to allow Beer Money and Eric Young in the same shot as him. I've never cared for Flair so I met this with moderate surprise but no excitement.
They pepper the show with interviews of the complete social rejects that attend TNA shows. The edges are rough and TNA is determined to roughen them up even further, the crazy fuckers.
I'll give credit to Mick Foley though. The storyline of him being the victim of some kind of political coup and makes it entertaining. The man has mad skills, dat's all I'm saying. Aged and fatter than ever, the man's still better on the stick than anyone bar The Rock.
Lashley comes out and gets emasculated on live television by his wife. THIS IS WRESTLING.
Then we have more women, this time playing strip poker. I'm a bit interested until I remember I can see breasts whenever I want - I can just turn Google SafeSearch off. Now if, say, Val Venis were in these segments, maybe it'd be watchable.
Hall and Waltman turn up, actively looking like shit. Scott Hall's managed to disprove the myth that being a drug addict helps you lose weight. Still, he's not as fat as when I last saw him. Oh, and Sean Waltman - who gives a shit? Your career high was being European Champion you worthless cunt. I mean, I know Mark Madden thinks that you're some great unknown that should go on a European tour with Ric Flair (possibly because you were European champion?) but, y'know,
he's mental.
Then we have another shot of Hogan's motorcade. Here's a tip Hulk - leave before the show and you might arrive on time. I despise tardiness.
Then, inevitably, Hogan turns up. A little part of me inside marks out, another part dies when it's announced that the pair of tits that is Brooke Hogan is in attendance as if it means something. He talks a bit, Fatty Hall and Triple H's little friend talk back - Nash comes out, goes a bit mental. Everyone's stepping on everybody's lines and it's a real possibility that X-Pac might cry until Easy E, Eric Bischoff comes out and saves the segment. And then, HOLY SHIT, Sting is in the rafters:
Hold the phone and shut the front door - Sting appeared in the rafters? Sting - white guy, longish hair, black and white face paint - was hiding in the rafters?
TNA has not only taken a bold leap into daring territory; it's now detonated itself and gone supernova. I mean, last night of all nights I would have never expected Sting to be there. Not in the rafters of all places. I mean, what the fuck? Total swerve ball. Has anybody done an angle where someone hides in the rafters before? Maybe next week they'll turn the lights and then turn them back on again, only to reveal someone has been attacked. That would blow my mind.
M. Night Shyamalan guest writer confirmed. The best thing is, I'm sure he'll put on some tremendous matches as soon as he gets down from the rafters. It will be 1997 all over again.
Women's tag championship. I must again employ
my tag team of the words
fast and
forward. I'm sure it was a perfectly good match though. You should watch it.
Then Val Venis comes in, making TBP worth watching. Where have you been all these years, Val? I missed you. No, seriously; I mark out for Val Venis.
Hello ladies. Remember your feud with Goldust, Val? I do.
I do.
Nasty Boys turn up. I presume someone was actively trying to wreck the show at this point. So sure am I of this that I refuse to ever mention the Nasty Boys again. Ever.
Matt Morgan & Hernandez squash Stevie Richards and Raven. I appreciate that Richards must be used to this sort of thing but
Raven? He must really need the money.
The Pope cuts a surprisingly good promo. I'm not going to lie, I wasn't sure whether he was Elijah Burke or Orlando Jordan so when Orlando Jordon actually turned up, I was confused. That's racist, isn't it? I know one of them's gay. Oh, and Jordon killed the promo, by the way. Shame, it was quite good until he showed up.
My notes (yeah,
notes) read: "Pope/Wolfe wasn't bad". I remember thinking "Wow Desmond Wolfe is shit" though. Mostly because if he did any of his moves to me I'd simply hit him with my free arm. Wrestlers lack such simple logic. All his moves seem to be arm locks by the way - did I neglect to mention that?
Bischoff and Styles do something but I have an encoding problem and am stuck looking at a picture of Hulk Hogan. Scintillating.
Jeff Hardy does some painting while Shannon Moore tries to contain his lust for him. "I want to make sweet love to you against that easel" he says in so many words. I have a C in GCSE Art by the way and I'm much better than Jeff Hardy. "Ooh, look at my painting - it's abstract so it doesn't matter if it's complete shit". When I'm not reviewing wrestling, I'm reviewing modern art.
You might think that Samoa Joe was from the Isle of Samoa - the name's a bit of a give away. But no, he's now from THE NATION OF VIOLENCE. Dun dun dunnn! He has a pretty good match with Abyss and chokes dat bitch out after a chair shot. It kept me entertained. Joe's also lost some weight - he no longer makes me ill when he moves about. Bravo, Joe. Bravo.
Jeff Hardy has the weakest segment of all-time as he has his (shit) painting mugged of him by little girls. Shannon Moore clearly improvises with the lines "Hey Jeff... can you believe that... WHAT WE CAME FOR... is in... THESE ENVELOPES? Once again, can you believe that... WHAT WE CAME FOR... is in... THESE ENVELOPES?" Give that man an Oscar. Fuck you, Colonel Hans Landa - Shannon Moore doesn't need French or German, he speaks in the language of the heart.
Then we get to the main event featuring two of my very favourite wrestlers - Kurt Angle and AJ Styles. I think it was KB that said the commentators completely no-sold the finishers and he was fucking right on the money. Any other time, you could hear Taz audibly shitting his pants over the match. It really was a very good match though, even if there were about fifty finishers. AJ Styles was relentlessly sick (
relentlessly sick) in it as well. "This is ep-ic!" has apparently taking over as the chant of choice and I think I actually saw a guy crying in the audience. Intense.
Mike Tenay promises at one point that "Eric Bischoff has made it so we can stay with this to the end" and then we go to an ad break. Wait, what?
And then a terrible, terrible abortion of an ending. Nice close-up of Hogan's nostrils though.
Overall, I give it four and sixteen point three twentieths out of seventeen - such is my completely sensible scoring system, inspired by that of Xfearbefore.