For this week's Throwback Thursday, we're looking at the time the World Wrestling Federation bought World Championship Wrestling and how WWE will likely never see a competitor like WCW again.
The sale was announced on March 23, 2001 and was, honestly, a huge shock to the wrestling world. Via CNN:
he World Wrestling Federation Entertainment Inc. agreed Friday to acquire rival World Championship Wrestling, ending a near 20-year rivalry.
Stamford, Conn.-based World Wrestling Federation Entertainment (WWF: Research, Estimates) now has global rights to the World Championship Wrestling brand, tape library and other intellectual rights.
TNN is anticipated to be the new home of WCW, a WWF spokesman said, and WCW will not air on TNT or WTBS. Cross-brand storylines may start as soon as Monday during the "WWF Raw is War" on TNN and Monday's final performance of "WCW Monday Nitro Live" on Turner Network Television.
The final episode of Nitro did in fact air on March 26, 2001. However, the "new home of WCW" never happened. TNN ended up not agreeing to air an exclusive WCW show so what we got instead was the lackluster Invasion storyline. (Want to see how we rebooked that? Check out our rebooking section.)
Interestingly enough, the March 26th episode of Nitro wasn't the final WCW program on television. The final episode of WCW WorldWide aired on April 1, 2001. Here's a terrible video of that last broadcast:
What was that recorded on? A dirty bagel?
WCW was the last time the WWF/WWE had real competition in wrestling. Yes, TNA continues to exist and they did launch a terrible "Monday Night War" attempt back in 2010, but that wasn't actual competition. They were destroyed and destroyed quickly.
The reality is that WWE will probably never have competition like WCW again. The company is too entrenched, too strong, and too big. Even though it is nowhere near as popular or profitable as it once once, it's still a juggernaut.
WCW managed to compete because they had a lot of money, television networks that would air their programs at key times, a dedicated owner in Ted Turner who also owned those networks, and they also took advantage of a downturn in WWF's business.
That's a "perfect storm" that will probably never be duplicated again. Television ratings across the board are down. Very few networks are willing to air wrestling on TV these days, and there are likely none that would air it nationally against WWE.
While WWE tends to coast A LOT these days, rest assured that they would immediately act to stamp out any competition before it could gain a foothold. Remember how they had Bret Hart return to the company on the same day Impact moved to Monday nights? Sure, TNA wasn't real competition, but WWE wasn't taking any chances.
Plus, thanks to NXT, WWE has nearly all of the top indie talent under contract, so how would a competitor even build a roster? As soon as someone tried, WWE would whip out the chequebook to stop them.
Of course, anything is possible, but WCW was most likely a once-in-a-lifetime situation where the WWF/E actually had to compete, and it led to some incredible television.
So here in America, the term "alternative facts" has become popular for....well, reasons I'd rather not get into.
Let's just say I've drunk a lot in the past 4 weeks.
Instead let's discuss alternative histories. I've been working my way through Amazon's Man in the High Castle over the last few weeks, and while I can't fully recommend the series, it has got me thinking about other alternative timelines. Of course, I'm not considering such things as "what if the South would have won the Civil War?" or "what if the Cold War would have gone hot?"; instead, I'm thinking about pro wrestling because I have no shame.
(Incidentally, Rick and I started this site because we were interested in writing articles in which we rebooked the Invasion Angle from 2001, so it seems appropriate to return to our roots in a sense.)
So I'm introducing a new shameful feature here at WrestlingShame: What-If-Wednesday. Every other week, I'll take a look back at an infamous or famous wrestling event and try to use my PhD-level thinking skills to plot out an alternative history of the event.
Pictured: me in real life. Seriously.
With that out of the way, let's start with arguably one of the biggest "what-if's" in wrestling history: what if Hulk Hogan would have been given the AWA championship?
The Actual Timeline:
I suspect that it's still an interesting bit of trivia for a lot of wrestling fans to discover that Hulk Hogan had a run with the WWF back in the early 1980s that pre-dated his megastar period in the late 80s through early 1990s. After having worked in Memphis and elsewhere in the South, Hogan was brought into New York by Vince McMahon, Sr. and booked as a heel with Classy Freddie Blassie as his manager. Hogan's apex during this time was a match against Andre the Giant in the WWF's "Showdown at Shea" in August of 1980.
After several tours of Japan (the WWF and NJPW shared talent during this time), Hogan got a role in Rocky III which apparently angered Vince Sr., who did not share Hogan and Vince Jr.'s vision of more entertainment-savy professional wrestling (at least according to Hogan, so take it with a grain of salt. Remember, always believe the opposite of what Hogan says.)
Afterward, Hogan appeared in Verne Gagne's American Wrestling Association and quickly became a popular face. Soon, Hogan was feuding with AWA mainstay Nick Bockwinkel, and the two fought for the title at the AWA's Super Sunday in April 1983.
So a popular-up-and-coming face was facing the heel champion at a major event. It seems like the perfect time to place the belt on your future star. I mean Vince McMahon has done that, approximately, 27 times with Roman Reigns!
Well, that's not what happened. Feel free to watch below!
At the conclusion of the match, Hogan pins Bockwinkel and wins the AWA Championship -- but that decision is reversed by AWA President Stanley Blackburn because Hogan tossed Bockwinkel over the top rope (again, why not disqualify Hogan at that moment instead of waiting till the end of the match? Pro wrestling is dumb sometimes). Anyway, after the reversal Hogan loses his mind. The crowd in the arena loses its mind. And these are Minnesotans; I mean Canadians think Minnesotans are too polite. Remind me to never insult Minnesotans. Well, again.
So, why did this happen? Well, there are a lot of possible reasons. Among the theories that I've found online are these: Gagne believed Hogan was more of a bodybuilder than an actual wrestler, that Gagne and Hogan had arguments about merchandising, and that Gagne wouldn't put the title on Hogan until Hulk married one of Gagne's daughters. Perhaps most likely, this end happened because Gagne relied -- perhaps a bit too much -- on the "reversing the decision" trope throughout his tenure as owner of the AWA and this was something of his default way to address story-lines.
The Outcome:
In short, a lot of people say this was the beginning of the end for the AWA. Soon after, Hogan -- along with a lot of other members of the AWA -- bolted for the greener financial pastures of the WWF. In an effort to increase their national profile, the AWA entered into an uneasy, cross-promotional arrangement with WCCW, Mid-South Wrestling, and Memphis wrestling that did not pan out. While the company did find talents with Scott Hall, the Rockers, and Curt Henning, those younger wrestlers soon left the company as well, and the AWA was defunct by 1991.
Hogan became the biggest wrestling personality in history under the guidance of Vince McMahon. Also, he starred in some terrible movies.
So What If???:
I have to acknowledge my timeline is not perfect because it depends on a lot of factors, but here we go: despite whatever misgivings Gagne has about Hulk Hogan in 1983, he puts the belt on him and makes him the new face of the AWA. Now, this is a big if because the history of the AWA can basically be boiled down to "Verne Gagne Protects Verne Gagne," but let's presume he sees the light. With Hogan as champion of his territory, wrestlers that would have gone to New York to work with Vince McMahon likely stay -- at least for a few years. While Jesse Ventura may have eventually gone to work with Vince, someone like Bobby Heenan may have stayed in the Upper Midwest. And a Hogan title-run may have garnered a lot more interest from fans in the Twin Cities, Chicago, Milwaukee, and Winnipeg than another championship with Bockwinkel.
However, the bigger impact would have been felt by the WWF. With no Hogan, would Vince McMahon been as aggressive in attempting to create a national wrestling promotion? *thinks* Well, of course he would have, but I'm not sure he would have been as successful. Who would have been Vince's big babyface to promote? Randy Savage? Look, I love me some Randy Savage, but I don't think Macho Man would have connected to the 1980s zeitgeist as effectively as Hogan did.
By the way, an alternate history where Randy Savage stars in No Holds Barred is a much better universe to live in, yes?
I am also taking the leap here that Gagne and the AWA reach out to a different media outlet than ESPN for national television exposure during the decade. I think Gagne's interest in ESPN partially stemmed from still believing in the "sport" of wrestling, thus looking for some national credibility that Vince was not. So perhaps following the TBS / NWA model, Gagne aligns with another network -- WGN in Chicago? -- that got national exposure, and he begins to tweak the AWA toward a more entertainment-friendly model.
But these are big if's. A Hogan title-run may have reinvigorated Gagne's territory, but long-term, I'm not sure the AWA would have been able to keep Hogan. Let's face it: Gagne had much bigger problems as a promoter -- reliance on trusted older stars, pushing his son, ignoring the theatrical elements of professional wrestling -- than not putting a title on Hogan. Eventually, Hogan would have been lured to the greener pastures of either the Carolinas or the Northeast, and I have my doubts stars like Vader, Shawn Michaels, Curt Henning, or Scott Hall would have stayed in the frozen climates of the Midwest.
So a Hulk Hogan title-run in the AWA may have been good in the short-term, but eventually he would have left the company. And, in turn, a lot of other wrestlers would have done the same. And the AWA would still go belly-up, been the victim of another WWE-produced documentary that puts over McMahon and company, and have its logo become the template for a stupid John Cena t-shirt.
Next time, I'll take a look at perhaps the most underrated stable in wrestling history. Get your obnoxious, over-sized 1991 cellular phones ready kids!
As we've pointed out several times on this website, one of
the most difficult things about being a wrestling fan is dealing with the
McMahon family, who, by default, operate a virtual monopoly on professional
wrestling. Unless you are really invested in independent wrestling, New Japan,
or Lucha Libre, you have to deal with the McMahon power-structure in order to
watch the theatre of the squared circle.
So when ESPN announced that they would be producing an
episode of their acclaimed 30 for 30 series on what was Vince McMahon's most
spectacular failure -- the XFL -- I was certainly intrigued. A documentary that
was not produced under the auspices of the WWE could present a more objective
and challenging perspective on the failed professional football league.
Alas, I probably had too high of hopes for this documentary.
For starters, ESPN and the WWE have partnered together on a number of projects
in the past two years, ranging from increased exposure of the WWE's product on
ESPN's programming to an upcoming episode of 30 for 30 on Ric Flair. Perhaps
more importantly, the documentary was directed by Charlie Ebersol, the son of
Dick -- the godfather of NBC Sports and the man who has had a long-standing
friendship with Vince McMahon.
As such, the documentary has a tameness about it that can be
chalked up to family and familiarity: the younger Ebersol actually says so in a
brief-vignette before an act-break, noting how difficult it was to talk to his
dad and family-friend McMahon about their failure with the league for the
documentary.
But in another sense, "This Was the XFL" actually
reminds me of the worst elements of the WWE-produced documentaries about its
wrestlers and rival promotions. In one sense, the doc mythologizes the career
paths of both Ebersol and McMahon, noting how the older Ebersol went from
Saturday Night Live to creating the behemoth of 1990s NBC Sports, while McMahon
easily transformed the WWE from a regional promotion to the leader in
"national sports entertainment." Of course, the documentary glosses
over the complications of McMahon's "Manifest Destiny," especially his hand in
destroying smaller wrestling companies.
In addition, while the documentary shows talking-heads such
as Bob Costas and Matt Vasgersarian who were clearly uncomfortable with the
tone of the league, Charlie Ebersol seems to back-away from condemning the
sexism of the product. especially how the cheerleaders were portrayed by the league and NBC; in a sequence detailing how the cheerleader outfits were designed, one
talking-head recalls how she suggested "Boobs, boobs, boobs!" should
be the key to the uniforms and how positively enthralled McMahon was with the
idea (it was creepy). Moreover, the doc glosses over the homophobic comments of
McMahon in early press conferences where the WWE Chairmen frequently said his
league who not be a place for "sissies" and "pansies."
Instead, like WWE docs about the Attitude Era, the documentary almost gives
these elements a pass as "just another part of the late-90s" and
"that's what fans loved during that time."
It also seems like the documentary isn't sure what to do
with McMahon and the "Mr. McMahon" persona that he brought to the
league. It's clear the documentary tries to criticize McMahon's professional
wrestling / carnival barker approach to his appearances on television with the
XFL -- including his infamous "THIS IS THE XFL" promo before the
league's first game -- but Ebersol struggles to make sense of the angry,
vindictive, and dangerous McMahon who threatens Bob Costas in a very
uncomfortable televised interview. McMahon's response to his unhinged interview
with Costas in parts of the documentary is to brush it aside, as he claims "I
should not have responded that way," but in other segments of the
documentary, McMahon bemoans that he didn't have the opportunity to literally
crush Costas. In these moments, McMahon straddles an uncomfortable line between
'joking about hurting someone' and 'really wishing he could have hurt someone.'
This condoning of the darker elements of the XFL is also
reflected in the documentary’s treatment of the players. While Gary Maddux and
Rod Smart are interviewed, “This is the XFL” barely mentions the lives of the
players who actually played in the league. The documentary is eager to point
out how McMahon tiered the salaries of players in his league – which paralleled
the unequal salary formula of professional wrestling – but it rarely touches on
the struggles of the players, save for a few mentions of injuries; in contrast,
the episode “Who Killed the USFL” does a far superior job of illustrating the
financial issues and tribulations of players in that league.
Perhaps the most disappointing element of the documentary is
how it ends on a tale of redemption. In the final moments of the documentary,
McMahon and the older Ebersol are seated at a table sharing a dinner and, very
uncomfortably, recount what they’ve learned (?) about their experiences; the
end reminds me of a mix of My Dinner with
Andre and Manos: the Hands of Fate. And like so many WWE documentaries, “This is
the XFL” tries to celebrate the legacies of these two men and give credit to
them for all the accomplishments of the league --- why, we are wiser, and the
NFL now uses some of our camera angles! --- while underplaying the fallout from
this failure.
In the end, there is some fascinating stuff in this
documentary, but its unevenness and concern for preserving the legacies of Dick
Ebersol and Vince McMahon leaves the viewer feeling there is a lot more to this
story. But given how much influence the
McMahons have over their stories, that’s a documentary we aren’t likely to see
any time soon.
We here at Wrestling Shame normally take a less-than-serious approach to our discussions of wrestling. But, as we've both pointed out, wrestlers put themselves in dangerous situations on a near-nightly basis, and more often than not have to foot their own medical bills.
One of my favorite wrestlers is Matt Cross. I've had the pleasure of seeing him work three times in person, most recently this past December at the House of Hardcore show here in Wisconsin. Yesterday, Cross posted the following update to his Facebook page:
The danger of assumptions...
On January 13th, in Seattle Washington, as part of DEFY Wrestling's memorable debut event I broke my leg maybe 2 minutes into the opening match. I came down awkwardly on a moonsault, which is a move I've done without issue for close to 17 years. The pain was instant. The pain was debilitating. It's a truly surreal experience knowing that pain in front of hundreds and hundreds of cheering people. I'm not a hero, I'm not a tough guy, but I do know that people work hard for their money. I put another excruciating 8-10 minutes in, and finished the match.
As the night wore on, my condition worsened, and walking became a real struggle. Multiple people offered to take me to the hospital...my thought process being, 'if I can stand on it, and get around, it's not broken'. Only in retrospect do I realize how foolish that sounds.
I had to cancel WrestleCircus in Austin, Texas the next day and one by one, I dropped off my shows week after week waiting for things to improve. Sure, I was in a lot of pain, but nothing ever turned black and blue, there was no swelling, and I didn't miss a single workout
Nearing the one month mark, I decided I better get an x-ray "just to be safe". As soon as the film hit the screen yesterday it was a painfully obvious break. My heart sunk knowing I'd be away from what I love for some period of time.
This happened on my very first show of the year so needless to say, 2017 hasn't started out great for me. This time last year I was wrestling around Europe for a month, and two years ago (to the day), Ivelisse, Angelico and I won the Lucha Underground Trios Championships
I just wanna say thank you to everyone who's reached out and helped to make me feel like I'm not alone.
There's a certain beauty in the wrestling community coming together to help one of its own. We're all bonded together through our appreciation of a misunderstood art form and that's something I've always been proud to be a part of. Professional Wrestling is my sole source of income, and it's unclear at this time how long I'll be out of her arms. From a financial standpoint, it's a huge blow as I've only worked once this year.
My heart is broken, my leg is broken, but my spirit is not.
As I look ahead at an uncertain time with no income and unknown, uncovered hospital bills coming, everything is truly appreciated. No one owes me anything (I'll certainly take hugs), but please take a look at my shirts if you'd like to support www.prowrestlingtees.com/mattcross I shouldn't admit it, but I've almost been brought to tears by people asking to send me help through PayPal (which can be done here: [email protected]) If you do any design work, I'd love to see shirt ideas, and if you're so inclined, you can send me snail mail at: Matt Cross PO Box 470921 Broadview Heights, Ohio 44147
Above all, find a wrestler you like, and cheer them on as loud and passionately as you can. None of us last forever.
Thanks guys. I'll see you soon xoxo
We here at Wrestling Shame certainly wish Matt a speedy recovery and give him our best wishes. I'd also like to encourage our readers to buy his shirts on Pro Wrestling Tees, send him some good vibes on social media, or send him some help via PayPal.
Given that there is yet another WWE Network "Special Event" taking place this weekend, and since it's the "Elimination Chamber" event, we thought we'd take a brief look back at the first Elimination Chamber match today.
The first Elimination Chamber match didn't take place in its own PPV. Instead, it was the main event of the 2002 Survivor Series. The match saw Shawn Michaels defeat the World Heavyweight Champion Triple H, as well as Booker T, Chris Jericho, Kane and Rob Van Dam to win the title.
It was a pretty good match and quite innovative for the time. It would be Michaels' last world title and the reign lasted about a month. He lost it back to Triple H at Armageddon 2002.
The 20th Elimination Chamber match will take place this Sunday from what is apparently called the "Talking Stick Resort Arena."
