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Been awhile since I did one of these. Sorry about that. Anyway, since everyone's talking about CM Punk's butt right now, let's look at his "debut" in the WWE.
At this point in time in 2005, CM Punk was huge in the wrestling world, thanks to his epic trilogy with Samoa Joe in Ring of Honor. The WWE finally decided to take notice of the straight-edger and immediately asked him to do a tryout match. However, instead of an usual singles match where he would be jobbed out to one of the federation's C-List talent, he was placed in a tag team match.
His assigned partner was Russell Simpson, aka Psycho Simpson. I literally have nothing on him. He's just one of those faces that doesn't leave any impression. The WWE must have saw something in the guy because he already had seven tryout matches.
So on the April 17, 2005 broadcast edition of Sunday Night Heat, the two wrestlers were set to face off against fitness guru Simon Dean and his perfect specimen Maven. But there was something amiss. Instead of being announced by their respective names, Punk and Simpson had a tag team name: CM Punk. Confused? Lillian didn't botch this one up, folks; the producers thought it would be better if they use one guy's own ring name as the team name. Simpson still retained his nom de plume, while Punk went under the name of Chad Collyer. For those that don't get the in-joke, Punk and his indie buddies liked to use each other's name (real or fake) when in televised tryout matches.
To clear up any further confusion, I will just refer to them by their real wrestling names. Man, talk about an oxymoron right there. Anyway, Dean and Maven waste some time on the mic, talking about how they have photographic evidence as to why they were easily beaten up by Stone Cold Steve Austin on Raw. Cut to some stills where bottles of Dean's Simon System are badly photoshopped on to Austin's beer cans and hands.
Maven and Simpson start off. Punk instantly pisses off Maven while on the apron, taunting the bland heel and showing that Maven isn't tough enough to be here or even take a joke.
Simpson continues the early punishment on Maven and allows Punk to come in and take over his wrist-lock. While Punk delivers some high kicks to Maven, commentator Jonathan Coachman tries to be "funny" by mocking the jobber team's name, referring to them as "CM Dawn", a play on the once popular 90s R&B duo.
So while Coach is set adrift on memory bliss, talking about events that happened on Raw, Maven and Dean get the heat on Punk. Dean oddly circles around the ring while shouting and having Punk in a headlock, before then doing a simple suplex and a float-over pin. Further confusing me, Dean follows that up with what is either a mini twerk or a little grind, complete with pointing at his junk, before doing a leg drop.
Surprisingly, the crowd is actually into this match, letting out a fairly loud "You Suck!" chant. Maven flaunts his muscles too much (save that for your current job as a bouncer!), allowing enough time for Punk to recover and avoid a dropkick. The crowd is ready for the hot tag but it's botched up in two ways. First, instead of the usual leaping grasp for a tag, Punk does a weak walk to Simpson before the tagged-in Dean elbows him in the back, which then causes Punk to deliver the tag and allow Simpson to run wild. Secondly, the crowd quickly realizes that, oh yeah, the unique-looking Punk is now out and we instead have this average guy coming back in.
Dean tags in Maven, kicks Simpson before being back-body-dropped by him, and the two heels do their tag team finisher: a double armpit-lifting Rock Bottom. 3 count and it is over.
Post-match, the perfectly-fit team get ready to do their DiBiase-esque final gag of stuffing a nutrition bar into the mouth of Simpson. Punk tries to intervene but Dean gives him a rolling elbow. Meanwhile in the crowd, a smark holds up a prominent CM Punk sign. The commentators don't call attention to it, nor is there a Russell Simpson sign anywhere.
Punk would later have a second tryout match, this time a straight-up singles match against Val Venis. I implore you to go check it out because it literally is one of the best "star vs. jobber" matches, right there next to the Razor/Kid feud. Despite getting some heat backstage for making that match too good, Punk was signed to WWE. Before paying his dues down in OVW, he of course finished up his work in the indies by taking part in ROH's amazing storyline, "The Summer of Punk". Simpson was also signed and shipped off to OVW. He proceeded to do nothing of note there until being released in 2006. He would retire a couple years later.
This is a case of a put-together tag team where one of the wrestlers is absolutely nothing like the other. This isn't something like Shawn Michaels and Marty Jannetty; this is more like Shawn Michaels and Alex "The Pug" Pourteau. I didn't really mean to completely bury Simpson here, but it's hard to take notice of the guy when he's standing next to someone who would later be the best in the world.
Oh boy, what a shit tag team we have for today. I say shit not just because they were just that, as both wrestlers were inducted into the fine halls of WrestleCrap, but because one of the two loved to roll around in it and even eat some on live television. Well, sorta of.
If you ever need to know why the WWF was losing steam fast with audiences in 1996, look no further than this match. On this day, while WCW had the nWo running wild and featuring an awesome battle between Rey Mysterio Jr. and Ultimo Dragon for the WCW Cruiserweight title, Vince McMahon was presenting the worst of the so-called New Generation.
TL Hopper is the wrestler formerly known as Dirty White Boy, a regional favorite in Smoky Mountain Wrestling. Upon walking through Titan Towers, the man pulled a random card from the job gimmick pile and came away with friendly plumber. Other than being bequeathed a plunger named Betsy and the absolute worst entrance theme ever devised (I'm not kidding!), Hopper was infamously known for being part of an angle during the pre-show of Summerslam 1996, where he re-enacted, to poor results, the legendary Baby Ruth gag from Caddyshack.
Who was Jim "The Anvil" Neidhart under a mask. He wore ungodly yellow briefs. His entire gimmick centered around him being an in-joke to the famous Abbott & Costello routine "Who's on First?" That's it. This ancient reference flew over the heads of every kid in the 90's, and if they somehow did get it, they would wonder why he doesn't look like a rock star and why Slappy Squirrel wasn't with him.
Why were they partnered up and quasi-heels here? I don't know! (™ Lex Luger) But the bigger question is why wasn't Hopper grouped with his fellow working class hero, the garbage collector now jailbird Duke "The Dumpster" Droese. It makes so much sense! They could have been called The Dumpers, Poop & Scoop, or Men at Work, with Keith David as their manager. If they were in WCW, they would've been The Trashmen, complete with a copyright-daring rip-off of "The Bird". Sadly, Hopper and Droese weren't meant to be, as they fought each other on Superstars a month and a half before this match on the 8/12/1996 episode of Monday Night Raw.
They are set to face off against The Godwinns, the duo that was so popular, that they were the back-to-back winners of the Wrestling Observer's Worst Tag Team of the Year award in 96 and 97. Personally, I don't think they deserve this harsh distinction (High Voltage, anyone?) but they also weren't worthy of a paycheck either. The hillbilly trend in wrestling died fast in the 80's due to McMahon constantly churning out and showcasing many untalented competitors in overalls and its revival with the Blu Brothers in 1995 didn't usher in any heat. Plus, no matter how many times they threw the bucket of slop at someone post-match, seeing the two go over teams like L.O.D. was always pathetic.
The match starts and already you can hear the utter apathy of the crowd. No one cares two licks about any of these geeks. A call of "Suueey!" issues a golf-clap from the audience. I guess they are still recovering from the shocking return of Crush and his bad work-rate earlier in the night.
An awful rebound hip-toss by Henry O. Godwinn has Who land awkwardly on his ass. Who gets up and immediately goes 180 and just stares at Phineas. Henry freezes up before Neidhart gets his act back together and they continue the epic display of stalling and wrestling basics.
Despite this being a contest, the real attention is instead focused on the commentators, namely guest Mr. Bob Backlund. Unfortunately, this is an off-night for him, as he slowly stumbles over his declaration of bringing in someone important and of decent character to the federation to take on Shawn Michaels. Spoiler: his future client will absolutely suck but somehow get some heavyweight title shots against Psycho Sid.
This rant then segues into Mr. Backlund going off on the American public school system. He's suppose to be delivering a Republican-friendly diatribe over the lack of the Bible being an integral part of education. To appease Standards and Practices, he instead tells McMahon that schools don't teach "Thou shall not STEAL!" and "Thou shall not KILL!" Apparently, Helen of Troy and Archduke Franz Ferdinand don't exist in textbooks.
But then comes the greatest moment ever to be broadcasted "live" on Raw. Here's a transcript:
Backlund: HOWEVER! They WILL TEACH OUR YOUTH!
…
McMahon: Okay, so wait a minute…
Backlund: HOW!
...
Backlund: TO not acquire AIDS!
…
…
McMahon: Well, I...
Backlund: BY APPLYING… A CONDOMINIUM!
Pure genius. Both Vince and Jerry try their best not to corpse. Mr. Backlund then gets up to distract the fans, thus generating the only buzz in this entire match.
Meanwhile in the squared circle, Hopper signals for his finisher, a brainbuster he calls "Down the Drain". His finisher taunt is supposed to be him operating a plunger but he doesn't do the easy-win-for-charades technique of two fists on top of each other and jerking it up and down. Hopper instead does it way too fast and with his arms wide open, making him look like he's giving a reach-around to an elephant. R. Lee Ermey would be proud.
Phineas goes for the Antarctic-style hot tag for the finish but again, the attention is turned to something else. Kevin Dunn, why must you forsake me? So now we have to sit through another split-screen interview, this time with Commissioner Gorilla Monsoon. ADD quickly sets in, as Vince is so concerned about the IC Title situation and Ahmed Johnson's status that he tells Gorilla to "look at" Henry's big boot.
Henry delivers the Slop Drop to Who, with the latter botching it, to end this bowling-shoe-ugly match. Neidhart, the scrub that he is, immediately gets up after the move and leaves the ring. Alas, the immense pain doesn't stop. The interview continues on amid the Godwinns celebrating to their music, causing Jerry Lawler to be unable to hear anything and audibly asking "What?" Sensing the upcoming ad break, Gorilla speeds through the rest of his script.
But it gets even worst: If you're watching the WWE's edited version of the broadcast, the Godwinns' theme of "Don't Go Messing with a Country Boy" is replaced with a public domain hillbilly tune, further drowning out Gorilla. What a complete mess.
I get that this was supposed to be an enhancement team but this duo is way too random. Jim Neidhart may not have been a great singles worker but the man was a tag team expert, and the only thing he does with Hopper here is an assisted elbow to the arm and a double back body drop. Thankfully, this was their only match together, as they were both flushed back down to the undercard. Hopper, however, would have the last laugh, as he later became the new manager of his redneck opponents in 1997, helping them win and lose the tag titles.
Since Wrestlemania XXX is around the corner, what better way to celebrate "The Showcase of the Immortals" by featuring an immortal tag team that fell apart quicker than a game jam sponsored by Mountain Dew. I'm of course talking about the most famous strange bedfellows of all time, D'Lo Brown and Test.
Wrestlemania XV is now widely known as one of the worst entries ever to be produced under the banner name. Granted, it's not as tortuous as ones like II, IV, 25, or XXVII but it's still a massive collection of bad creative ideas. For a great overview of the entire event, I highly recommend checking The Attitude Era Podcast's rundown of the tragic affairs. For a shortened version, there were a ton of low lights throughout the WWF's 1998-99 season finale: Road Dogg Jesse James and Bad Ass Billy Gunn were given the opposite's title and feud for the sake of being random (™ Vince Russo); Bart Gunn finally broke through the American wrestling market by suffering an embarrassing knockout in a shoot boxing match with Butterbean; the new big acquisition The Big Show being humiliated twice by stupidly losing a match by DQ and getting carted off by police into a small red car; Chyna turning face only to turn heel two matches later with Triple H; an eye-searing women's match where one combatant was wearing the female version of Giant Gonzalez' gear before the female version of Giant Gonzalez mercifully ends it; and the worst Hell in the Cell match ever concluding with the worst post-match angle ever. The sole redeeming match was the main event between Stone Cold Steve Austin and The Rock, which delivered a satisfying conclusion to the first year of the Austin-McMahon blood feud.
There is one match I've forgotten to mention in my block of cynical jabs: a title match for the World Tag Team Titles, then currently held by Jeff Jarrett and Owen Hart. Head booker Russo and his company of writers wanted this fight to be a highly touted bout with real heat from the crowd and the paying audience. But he simply forgo all of that nonsense and just had the #1 contenders be determined through a tag team battle royal on a special edition of Sunday Night Heat; the special edition being the one taking place a hour before the event.
The idea of a tag team battle royal is not something new for Wrestlemania, as last year's immensely acclaimed XIV kicked off the show with one. That royal was booked to premiere and a give a big push to L.O.D. 2000, a Poochie-esque marketable revamp of the Road Warriors. The cumbersome space-hockey gear and new manager Sunny weren't able to save the eroding landmark tag team, as their talent and place on the card dropped faster than a Titantron-diving Hawk.
For those still unaware, a tag team battle royal is a bit different from its usual single wrestler design: both members partake in the brawling but if one is thrown over the ropes, they are both eliminated. Russo wouldn't have any of this logic, so it was decided that the last two individual men in the ring instead would be crowned the winners, team be damned. Because if there's one thing people love to see, it's the possibility of a tag title match where everyone is a heel.
Looking over the list of wrestlers seeking a Wrestlemania payday, I mean a worthy shot at a prestigious title, you get the usual mid card talent you would expect or be aware of at this time of the WWF: The Acolytes, D.O.A., pre-extreme Hardy Boys, Viscera & Mideon, former N.O.D. buddies D'Lo Brown & The Godfather, Too Much, and random throw-ins like Test, Steve Blackman and Droz. But then you have shocking entries even I forgot, including The Public Enemy (pre-burial by the Acolytes), comedy jobber Gillberg, and, ugh, Tiger Ali Singh.
At the time, I though the winners would obviously be the Legion of Doom. Yep, they were still around and again, they came out with a new look and manager. Hawk and Animal were back in their old garb and their original manager Paul Ellering returned to their side after going off the deep end about conquering the internet and helping out the charisma black-holes that forever are the Harris Brothers.
Unfortunately, they were both thrown out early and walk to the back in their penultimate WWF-era appearance. The winners instead were determined to be D'Lo and Test, as Droz and The Godfather eliminated each other. It's particularly eerie that it could have been Droz and D'Lo, given what was to come later in the year. Anyway, despite the final two being decided, the bell doesn't ring so Test and D'Lo just keep punching each other because they are a heel and face respectively. Hart and Jarrett, who were doing guest commentating, bum-rush them as the crowd gives the commotion the same enthusiasm as Tom Slick at a junior rodeo.
Casting my harsh critique aside for a moment, I must address a personal note: this outcome was like receiving proof of there being a God for myself and my brother back in 1999. D'Lo was one of my brother's favorites and the then newcomer Test was one of mine. Them teaming up together and possibly winning a major title at the biggest stage of all? That was some N64 booking right there for us.
So, how was the match?
It starts off with Kevin Dunn freaking the hell out because of the slow transition between matches. As Al Snow walks beside some referees and D'Lo's music hits, he thinks the best shot is a wide view of the crowd sitting completely still.
D'Lo comes out with his female ally Ivory, a journeywoman wrestler who was brought in to clean up the mess Sable did to the women's division and to, I'm not making this up, keep D'Lo away from white women. Trust me, there's far more racial and sexist horror later to be tapped during this era. She's wearing a facial bandage because the other match on Heat ended with Terri Runnells marking her with a cigar. It is so great when there's short-term booking on the pre-show, only to not have the importance or context showcased later on home video.
Test comes out with a bro-approved tank-top he picked up from Spencer's Gifts. He immediately gets in D'Lo's face and point blankly tells him, "You ain't worth SHIT!"
Jarrett and Owen come out with their non-matching ring gear (seriously, why didn't Jarrett wear his yellow shorts?) and their manager Debra. Debra is wearing a chandelier bikini and a suit jacket, thus popping the crowd. By popping, I of course mean their dicks. Ivory's reaction pretty much sums up my opinion of this wardrobe.
Despite being jerks to each other, the put-together tag team take early control. D'Lo and Jarrett pull off some adequate wrestling chemistry. The crowd responds to this showmanship with chants of "Nugget", the derogatory term/in-joke bestowed to Owen Hart by DX in 1998.
Test and Owen are both tagged in and they both quickly burn through all of their signatures and finishers. The opening seconds of the match had Test deliver a running big boot, and this exchange has him pulling off his gut wrench power bomb and an attempted pump handle slam. Owen responds with his beautiful leg-fed enzuigiri and sharpshooter. D'Lo breaks up the submission; Test responds to the save with the kind words of, "GET YOUR ASS in there and DO SOMETHING!"
D'Lo plays face in peril and again, the crowd has none of it. No one likes this random tag team and its confusing moral position. Even if they did, the match is moving too quickly to tell any story, which is incredibly sad considering every participant is great in the ring.
D'Lo gets a near-fall with a counter version of the Sky High. Test and Owen go to the floor while Debra just stands on the apron for some reason. I'm guessing she's supposed to sexily distract D'Lo, who's out of position and misses the cue, because Ivory is suddenly pissed and they argue outside. D'Lo sets up for his running powerbomb, only for Owen to hit him with a missile dropkick and Jarrett jack-knife pins him in the sole redeeming element of this match.
Despite the cool finishing maneuver, the match booking and the PPV production both continue to falter into insanity. Test lets Owen run off just so he can stand in his tracks and squawk with the women, and then Terri and Jaqueline, a.k.a. Pretty Mean Sisters (get it?), come out for no reason at all. They cut to the hard camera for the concluding pin and they inadvertently create the perfect tableau of this match, as everyone in the crowd turn their heads aside from the ring and pray for a catfight to take place.
Post-match, Ivory rightfully reads the riot act to Test for being booked like a geek, right before D'Lo and Test then engage in a lame brawl. And thus, the last Wrestlemania appearance of Jeff Jarrett and the late great Owen Hart ends with both being shunted off-screen, unable to celebrate their win, just so a brand new feud can go absolutely nowhere.
3 minutes, 57 seconds. If it wasn't for the 0:35 knockout to Bart Gunn, this would have been the shortest match of the night. As much as I love everyone in the ring, this match-up had no reason to exist and should have been removed off the first draft of this card. And as stated, nothing came from it later: D'Lo and Test were both practically given a two week reprieve from television while Jarrett and Owen would soon drop the belts to a new strange tag team, X-Pac and Kane. D'Lo would sadly remain in the mid-card for the rest of his WWF tenure, despite his talents and unique sense of charisma. Test instead experienced mood swing booking, as the creative team kept giving him a large push to the main event, drop him back to the mid-card and placed in tag teams, and do it all over again and again before being released for the final time in 2007. He would sadly die two years later.
There's no question that this team had no future and shouldn't have been assembled in the first place. The crowd shat on it and the bookers tried to write off their mistake, only to forget that video has a lasting legacy. Even if Test was a face, the two just didn't click with each other, possessing no team chemistry or matching prowess.
What makes the idea of "strange bedfellows" so fantastic is that they sometimes make dreams come true and make fans go sploosh. If ever was there a tag team to draw massive dollar signs, it would be these two.
I don't really to need explain who these two WWF legends are, but for those not initiated: The Ultimate Warrior was an uncontrollable powerhouse who constantly ran to ring and gas himself out pre-match, booked to look strong in short bursts, and always delivered batshit insane promos about rocket fuel and killing airplane pilots. The Undertaker, on the other hand, is the best example of how sports entertainment can make anything work; he was a somnambulist who was powered by an urn carried by his manager, Paul Bearer naturally, no sell often with the Michael Myers spot and destroy his opponents with chokes and lariats before killing them off with the Tombstone Piledriver.
The two crossed paths first in 1991, when Taker locked Warrior in a casket on his talk show segment, The Funeral Parlor. After much struggle, the WWF crew were able to break him out but the damage was done; Warrior passed out from his panic attack and showed that he was no longer invincible. To set up their main clash, Warrior went under the guidance of Jake "The Snake" Roberts, in order to combat his fears through a series of tests. Unfortunately, that's where the feud stops due to two huge reasons: Roberts turned heel when Warrior was bitten by a hidden cobra at the final test, causing Taker to end up as Roberts' crony and out of the picture. But this new Warrior-Roberts feud too was scuttled when Warrior allegedly blackmailed Vince McMahon for a payout at that year's SummerSlam and being suspended soon after.
Despite these immoral events, the two would make up fast next year for a tag team match. After all, they were both faces now and brought major contributions to Wrestlemania VIII: Taker buried Roberts out of his job and Warrior returned during the botched main event with an awful haircut and a slimmer build, causing many to still theorize that the original Warrior died and was replaced in the absence.
Post-Wrestlemania, Warrior was facing up against Papa Shango, the Baron Samedi-inspired voodoo priest who was the main botcher of said main event, thanks to his ultra late run-in. Shango would place numerous curses on Warrior in the coming weeks, much to the horror and acclaim of wrestling fans, mostly notably the time when Warrior puked on air (Darren Drozdov was too busy in the NFL to sub-in). Taker, unfortunately, was a bit lost in the shuffle due to his sudden fan popularity and quick face turn. Instead of returning to the top of the bill, he was stuck against The Berserker, John Nord as a viking/tribute to the late Bruiser Brody. He would be the first in a long line of dark and/or stale opponents for Taker before finally breaking out of the rut with his blood feud against Mankind in 1996.
I should be talking about this Berserker/Shango pairing (with Mr. Fuji as manager) as well, since they are bizarre (™ Davey Boy Smith), but there's nothing much I can muster up to say about them. They are both too goofy and I simply didn't care for either of them back during my childhood.
But when it comes to Warrior and Taker, it makes perfect sense. Both shared an enigmatic place of origin, Parts Unknown and Death Valley respectively. They were both booked to be complete monsters, chucking out jabronis left and right and always coming up on top in the end. The high and low energy of their charisma levels made it easy to generate buzz from the crowd and to make the desperate tag white hot. And finally, they shared the same mammoth accomplishment: They both beat Hulk Hogan for the WWF title. Warrior ended Hulk's second title reign in a "passing of the torch" match at Wrestlemania VI, only for Warrior to be booked terribly and lead to the first warning sign of WWF's decline, while Taker nailed Hogan with a Tombstone on a chair at 1991 Survivor Series, only for Hogan to no sell the career-ending injury by whining for a rematch at the next PPV literally days later (Tuesday in Texas) and pinning him. To be fair, Taker still looked strong, as it took tons of cheating tactics in order for Hogan to win the title back. Taker was supposed to remain a heel and face off against Hogan at the following SummerSlam but the massive rewrites and the growing public disdain of Hogan and his lame "retirement" angle would lead to matters such as this match.
Man, that's a lot of baggage to claim, so let's just get started already!
After a staredown between the two, to sucker in the audience of possible dissension, Warrior & Taker then deliver two awful big boots and clotheslines to the outside. So much for being a great tag team.
The fan favorites stay strong until Warrior gets a short clothesline by an aproned Shango. For the next couple of minutes, Warrior's idea of being Ricky Morton is to just lower your head, immediately get up from every move, and keep slightly running in place. Despite this storytelling setback, the crowd is very energetic for this match; not much of a wonder considering this was filmed in Toronto.
Taker gets the hot tag and runs wild. Then, we get something really cool: The heels try for a double team maneuver, only for Taker to plant a standing choke on both of them. Instead of a double chokeslam, Warrior revs himself in the corner, Taker 180s them, and Warrior clotheslines them to the canvas.
Then, the weirdness factor ratchets completely up: Warrior is now somehow legal and wins with his running body splash. Before celebrating in the corner, he puts on a small purple tassel necklace (?). Meanwhile, Taker stands on the apron, staying in character but confused as all hell before Warrior finally walks over and they share a mighty handshake.
Despite the easy outcome and the blatantly bad work rate of Warrior and Shango, I'm always in a state of glee whenever I watch this match. Warrior & Taker could have been a mighty team in a year where the tag division was rapidly falling apart; a possible feud with the Legion of Doom would have been amazing in how much no selling would take place, with time limit draws every night. Sadly, this was the only taped match for this duo. They had a dark match a week later, against Shango and Kamala at a Superstars taping and an one week house show run in 6-man matches with The Big Boss Man. Warrior was fired in November for a drug violation, kicking him off another major payoff. But that's a tag team for another day.
My favorite gimmick pro wrestling PPV has always been Survivor Series.
Similar to the far more popular Royal Rumble, this annual event had two major features: First, it centered all around an unique match-type. In this case, it was the multi-man tag team elimination match, where 4 to 5 to 10 men or women would be grouped together, usually determined by their moral alignment (face or heel), and battle against their counterparts to prove their dominance in the wrestling ring. Secondly, and more importantly, Survivor Series has an encyclopedic quality to it, able to perfectly encapsulate the then current environment and product of the WWE, showcasing all of the big money draws, the rising superstars, the background players, the freaks, the geeks, and the oddities.
For instance, take a look at the 1995 iteration, which starts off showing the WWF's amazing undercard talent before moving on to the brief shining moment where Vince McMahon wished to expand the women's division by bringing in joshi (Japanese female wrestling) talent like Aja Kong and Kyoko Inoue. Or, jump to 2003 where the first match has the blue-plate special for Jim Ross, a team consisting entirely of hosses with limited skills, as in Matt Morgan and Nathan Jones.
But what really makes me interested in the history of this event is trying to figure out the kayfabe acceptance of these sometimes random groups. To use a 1991 team for example, beyond their status on the card billing, what makes a group consisting of an Iraqi colonel (played by an Iranian), a viking, an alligator hunter, and an over-the-hill roid muncher a truly stable idea?
This intrigue of mine would then later spread to my fascination for the appearances of "strange bedfellows". This term is used for mismatched wrestlers who are paired up in a tag team, usually for one night. One of the earliest forms of this idea, beyond the ever-present jobber match on television, was the brief time when WCW ran the "Battlebowl", a PPV event where the wrestlers were put into random teams solely to qualify for the pointless battle royal main event. It came further into prominence when bookers like Paul Heyman of ECW fame often used it as a plot point in his long-term wrestling rivalries, most notably Tommy Dreamer and Raven, who at one time held the ECW tag team titles despite a history of malice and bloodshed. To cement the idea firmly in the eyes of viewers, it had a distinct place on the match spinner when WWE would run its popular Raw Roulette episodes.
All of this is important to know about beforehand because I plan to dive into pro wrestling's past to uncover these hidden gems in a new ongoing feature.
I'll be looking at these one-off pairings/short tag team tenures both for pro wrestling history and comedic purposes. Think of it being in the vein of Wrestlecrap, with a sprinkling of Botchamania. I'll give background material to the individuals, examine the possible purpose of them being together, breakdown the notable match(es) where they were showcased, and end with a brief aside of their future endeavors and whether this team would have worked beyond its inception. Most of them, of course, won't but as evident by my first entry, there were a few duos with so much untapped potential waiting to be unleashed.
