What can one say about Teddy Ballgame that hasn’t already been said? He was, simply, the greatest pure hitter the game has ever known. His triple slash lines are just gaudy: .344/.482/.634. That is like a dream season for someone like Albert Pujols, and Teddy posted those stats over nineteen seasons! If he didn’t lose almost five full seasons to wartime obligations, we are probably talking about Ted as either number one or two. He hit 521 lifetime home runs. Just average out roughly 27 home runs each year he missed- that’s the average per year of his nineteen year career- and you get 656 homers. Do the same wit RBI’s, and he’s your all time ribby leader at 2,324. Average it for hits, he bumps up to 3,354. Even these projections are not doing Williams justice: I am simply averaging his entire career stats, not his prime stats, as three of the years he missed for World War II were his absolue peak years, age 24-26. Using that logic, I don’t think its far fetched to estimate Teddy would have had upwards of 700 home runs, 2,500 RBI’s, and 3,600 hits. Unreal.
The big stigma on Ted, besides his cantankerous personality, is his lack of World Series success. In his one postseason, a 1946 seven game loss to the Cardinals, he went 5 for 25, all five hits singles. People labeled him as a choke artist, a loser. This is deceptive. You see, the Red Sox that year clinched the AL so early that manager Joe Cronin was worried his squad would get rusty before the Series began. So he set up a couple of scrimmages with an All Star team. This would, of course, be unfathomable now days, but it wasn’t too unusual at the time. Unfortunately, Teddy was hit by a pitch in one of these games, injuring his arm. Ted never used that as an excuse, as a crutch, but those who played with him and knew him at that point were always quick to point out just how sore Ted was during that series. I only wish he could have gotten another crack at it, for Ted was a tremendous All Star Game performer. For younger fans who are used to the All Star Game meaning, well, nothing, back then players took immense pride in the game, and gave it their all. Ted was tremendous in these games, against the best possible competition, which leads one to believe ole Teddy would have worn out the next National League staff he would see in October. Alas, the Red Sox were not a very good team in the years following 1946, and became something of a punchline in Boston until 1967’s impossible dream squad that captured the hearts of a beleaguered Nation. That was seven years after Ted’s final at bat, where he launched a home run into the Fenway bullpen- Williamsburg- ending a remarkable career with a bang.
On a personal note, one of my favorite baseball memories ever was the 1999 All Star Game at Fenway Park, when Ted was honored. It was quite the site to behold, watching all these great players from the 90’s jostling like little kids waiting for a glimpse of the man, to spend a precious few seconds sitting under the Ted Williams learning tree. If you are a baseball fan who saw that, and did not have tears in your eyes, I don’t think you’re human.
Now will someone please thaw the man out and give him the proper burial he so richly deserves?
That was my article on Musial after his death earlier this month. The sentiment of the article has not changed. Stan Musial is the most under-appeciated baseball superstar of all time. Just consistently great, and criminally overlooked. Ranking #6, Stan, and #5, the next man on the list, was the decision I labored over the most. In the end, #5’s overwhelming greatness as a pure hitter just edged by Stan’s all around goodness. A very tough decision indeed.
Baseball’s untainted Home Run King. That is how most people know Henry Aaron. Lost in that assessment is just how great a player “Hammerin Hank” was. His triple slash line is nice, at .305/.377/.555. Sure, the on base percentage is maybe a tad bit low for Aaron to be ranked this high. But a lifetime .555 slugging percentage is remarkable. Aaron was, until Barry Bonds dubiously broke the record, baseball’s all time home run king, slugging 755 long balls. Aaron still holds the all time career RBI record, with 2,297. That mark, barring a healthy and productive return by Alex Rodriguez, may never be broken. Aaron also had 3,771 career hits, trailing only Pete Rose and Ty Cobb on the all-time list. Just his sheer statistics alone are staggering. In his career, Aaron complied 6,856 total bases, an average, AVERAGE, of 337 a year for 23 years!! Going with a sabermetric slant, Aaron’s career WAR (Wins Above Replacement) is fifth all time at 137.3.
My favorite Aaron stat is this, and it is well documented: he hit 755 career home runs, but never once hit more than 47…and he did that at age 37! He was just a remarkably consistent offensive threat. The amount of bigotry and ignorance he had to deal with whilst chasing Ruth’s home run record also has to count for something. It could not have been easy on the man. Just look at what happened to Roger Maris when he was hunting down the Bambino’s single season home run record. Bouts of stress, anxiety, hair loss, et al. Aaron was a black man from Birmingham, Alabama, chasing down, then, the most celebrated record in all of sports. I cannot fathom the bullshit that man had to put up with.
The fact remains this with Henry Aaron: He is almost diminished by those 755 home runs. Diminished in the sense that most fans just see that number and don’t investigate into just how great a player Henry Aaron was.
So what is the worst trade the Boston Red Sox have ever made? The uninitiated will undoubtedly scream RUTH!! However, there was never a “Curse of the Bambino.” While the Ruth deal was catastrophic, then-Sox owner Harry Frazee made several trades over the period worse than Ruth. If one looks at the 1923 World Champion Yankees, 12 of the 25 on that roster were exiles from Boston, sold off by Frazee to supplement his capital in order to finance his true love: Broadway, and off-Broadway, musicals.
The greatest sin Frazee ever perpetrated was trading Tris Speaker to Cleveland when Speaker wanted a bump in pay. Simply put, Speaker was considered the greatest outfielder of his time, a tremendous power hitter from the dead ball era who owns the record for most lifetime doubles, 792. His slash line numbers are tremendous, at .345/.428/.500 over a 22 year career.
Speaker was, and to some, still is, considered the best defensive center fielder of all time. He played remarkably shallow, resulting in an ungodly amount of outfield assists, 448 for his career, also a record. A typical Speaker center field play was such: a batter bloops a ball in front of Speaker in Center, Speaker fields it, and throws to first to nab the guy. Picture that in today’s baseball landscape. It was a different game in those dead ball days, and Speaker was one of its foremost practitioners.
One cannot speak of, um, Speaker, without mentioning this: He was allegedly a grandmaster of his local branch of the Ku Klux Klan. I have a hard time believing this, as there is ample evidence in the years following the end of his playing days of Speaker helping numerous black, and Jewish, and Italian, outfielders better acquaint themselves to the rigors of playing solid defense. One man Speaker was instrumental in helping in his transition from second base to center field was Larry Doby, the first Black ballplayer in the American League. The Klan rumors, however, have persisted to this day. But let that rumor be a lesson to all, especially the BBWAA when they are voting for admittance to the Hall of Fame. The so-called morals and ethics clause is cited by these hacks when excluding players tainted by the suspicion of steroids. So where was this morals clause when a rumored clansmen was one of the initial entries into the Hall? Or proven bigots like Cap Anson and Ty Cobb? The morals clause pertaining to entry into the hallowed halls of Cooperstown is one of the biggest jokes, and biggest crutches, in sports. Either a player is a Hall of Fame performer or not, judge it by his actions on the field.
Okay, I am off my soapbox now. But the main point should still remain: Tris Speaker was a hell of a ballplayer, and his trade from Boston to Cleveland was the beginning (but not the end) of the Red Sox downward spiral from grace.
Call me a Yankee homer. Go ahead. I will not fault anyone for that assessment. Gehrig was the greatest First Bagger of all time, but Mantle is damn close to the best CF of all time. Plus, he is my favorite player of all time.
Where to begin with the Mick. How about this: he was the fastest player of all time. ALL TIME. I heard a few years ago that Jose Reyes could go from the batters box to first base in four seconds. Mantle could do it in 3.8. Mantle was an absolute anomaly, a freak of nature. He could not only hit the ball longer than anyone, he was FASTER than anyone. Faster than Mays, Irvan, Aaron, Henderson, all the Negro League dudes. Mantle was a comet. The Commerce Comet. Honestly, Mantle holds a special place in this scribes heart: Mantle was the man I grew up idolizing. I own more Mickey Mantle books than Popeye owns spinach. I loved the dude, and was devastated, at 14 years of age, when he passed away in 1995. The Mick was the greatest talent, and the greatest drinker, to ever grace the major league stage. But he was a hell of a player, and I hope people realize that. He was like a gazelle in center field, covering more ground than his famous friend in Flushing named Mays, and his plodding friend in Flatbush named Snider.
Mickey Mantle. The name flows off the tongue. Just the perfect baseball entity. Mantle was, and remains, the freakiest talent baseball has ever seen. 4.3 speed. Unfathomable power. Bo Jackson was a freak of nature, we al observed it from 1988-1991. Mantle was better. Faster, stronger. If it wasn’t for DiMaggio (my goomba!) in 1951, Mantle would have equaled, or eclipsed, Willie Mays. He had greater talent, greater abilities. He was, simply put, greater. That sentiment was widely held of the time. Willie Mays is one of the two or three greatest players of all time, but, minus the DiMaggio-caused knee injury, minus all the Billy Martin alcoholic influence, Mantle should have been the greatest player ever. All the tools were there, besides the fact he thought he would be dead by thirty.
I hope to God people realize what a player Mantle was. Did he strike out a bunch? Yessir. Walks? You betcha. His triple slash statline? .298/.422/.557. Mantle was so underrated he was overrated. And vice-versa. 536 homers.
I recognize Mickey Mantle underachieved relative to his talents. The man was still an amazing ballplayer.
For my money, Jonathan Eig’s biographical account of Lou Gehrig’s life is the best sports biography ever written. Gehrig was a shy man, a mama’s boy, no doubt. But he was a brilliant baseball player, and undoubtedly the greatest first baseman who ever lived. Granted the man played during an era of offense only equaled by the steroid era, Gehrig was magnificent. He posts a career slash line of .340/.447/.632. The dude, for his CAREER, has a 1.079 OPS!!! Guys would kill to have that kind of slash line for a season or two, never mind a career. The bastard never really got his due, an unfortunate victim of bad timing. He was overshadowed by the Bambino for his first ten years, and, after one year in the spotlight, a great dago ballplayer named DiMaggio stole the spotlight from the Iron Horse. Then, years after he established a record thought unbeatable, his 2,130 consecutive games played, the unbreakable record is broken by a player whose caliber wasn’t even sniffing Gehrig’s, Cal Ripken Jr., who, in my mind, is the single most overrated player to ever field a glove. The lasting memory of Gehrig seems to be the disease which has since come to bear his name, ALS, and that is the biggest tragedy of it all, as Henry Louis Gehrig was one of the greatest baseball players ever, and his name should be uttered in the same reverential tones as the two men who overshadowed him, Ruth and, certainly, DiMaggio. (That sentence hurts to write for a fellow Sicilian.)
It is really unfortunate that Gehrig doesn’t get his just due. I know he existed during an epoch where hitting was the norm, where gaudy offensive numbers littered the landscape. Just chew on these statistics, and I have for years. In 1927, Babe Ruth’s biggest year, his year of sixty home runs, Lou Gehrig, batting behind the man, drove in 175 runs. The man hit 60 homers and drove in 164 of his own, so, basically, the Bambino is clearing the bases in front of the Iron Horse. Gehrig drives in eleven more runs than Ruth. That is spectacular, amazing, and unfathomable in today’s game. I understand that the game had evolved (devolved?) to get guys on base and drive them in with a three run homer, but to bat behind the home run champ, who drives in 164, and drive in MORE runs? Absolutely ludicrous. Did Jeff Kent drive in that many more runs batting behing Barry Bonds in the early 2000’s? How about guys batting behind Ted Williams? Mickey Mantle? Henry Aaron? Willie Mays? The stats of the era may be skewed, but I think we can all agree that Gehrig’s RBI totals behind Ruth was ridiculous. And what’s worse? Gehrig did it THREE MORE TIMES, although in the twilight years of the Sultan of Swat, including a mind numbing and American League record 184 RBI’s in 1931. RBI’s have been sacrificed at the altar of saber-metrics in recent years, but I still maintain that Runs Batted In are a valuable statistic. Runs scored are considered eminently valuable in Sabr communities, but what of the players who actually gain the clutch hits and drive those pesky baserunners in? Why does the saber-metric community discount that?
Anyway, I hope i have peaked your interest in Gehrig, because Jonathan Eig’s 2006 biography on the man is probably my favorite baseball bio ever written. Gehrig was an odd dude, and his wife, while ahead of her time, was, well….read the book. Suffice to day the feud that started between Ruth and Gehrig was directly because of Gehrig’s “flapper” wife. Flapper meaning loose. Meaning “She was double teamed by the Babe and his wife on a cruise.”
Lou Gehrig was the greatest first baseman in the history of the game. The only one close to him is “Double X.”
I am not going to lie. I am in a bit of a writing rut right now, so I am degrading myself with writing the most haphazard, cheap, brutal of all writing styles: top whatever lists. However, I do want to state this. Unlike my wrestling articles, which are pretty much written straight off the top of my head, from years of viewing experience, this project is different. Over the last ten years, I have read all there is to read about baseball. I have done painstaking research, read through both books and periodicals, newspapers and encyclopedias. All this has just aided in my already lofty knowledge of the sport of baseball. For the uninitiated, for you unwashed masses unfamiliar with me, since about 1992, I have been, and remain, basically an amateur baseball historian. Even that is unfair. I love baseball. More than just about anything in life. Which probably explains why I have no girlfriend or no life at this point. BUT I digress. I have made it my mission in life, in my free time over, basically, the last decade, and, honestly, even longer than that, to become a true scholar or America’s Pastime. I wanted to dissect the sport, open it up, find what, who, and when, made and makes it tick. I wanted to know, relative to the era each great player played, how great the player played. Christ, that is a mouthful. Anyway, I have read just a litany of books on baseball, well over 500, coming up with this list in my mind and soul, and, frankly, it has not been easy. There have been so many great players throughout the epochs of baseball history, and to try and narrow it down to a top ten, well, has been a labor of love. Without genital contact, which makes the love almost hate. And wasted promises. And blueballs. Anyway, over the next week or so, I am going to reveal my list, as well as the best books on the subjects I am featuring. Just to let you know, pitchers are a completely different animal, so I will rate them separately. This top ten is for position players only, so no pitchers and no DH’s. No Cy Young’s or Edgar Martinez’s here, boys, just position players. And, to be honest, the top ten is an elite club, so there will not be many current players there. Albert Pujols is close to cracking the top ten. So WAS A-Rod, until this crazy story about MORE performance enhancers came out just today, Tuesday January 29, 2013. I hope all of you enjoy the journey with me, as this has been literally a labor of love. I love the game, and want to represent its greatest stars properly. #10, coming in a few minutes!
The Royal Rumble came and went yesterday and unfolded pretty much the way everyone thought it would. John Cena won the Rumble match, and The Rock defeated CM Punk for the WWE Championship. Some quick thoughts:
-Alberto Del Rio and Big Show have some freaky good chemistry with one another. In fact, I think Del Rio may be the man who gets the most out of the big guy. Ever. The last man standing match to open the show was probably the best match of the night.
-Surprised Team Hell No retained the tag team straps. If the WWE is smart, they’ll give the belts to The Shield, who to date have only wrestled one match.
-The Rumble match itself was solid, if unspectacular. The ending was a foregone conclusion, but there was some fun getting there. Chris Jericho coming out number two blew the roof off of the arena in Phoenix, and, with Dolph Ziggler, was probably the MVP of the match, lasting nearly 50 minutes before being ousted. That said, his new tattoos were really throwing me off.
-Good to see two 90’s nostalgia acts in the Rumble match. First, Goldust, who came in and went right for his brother, Cody Rhodes. The Sons of the son of a plumber put forth a good showing, and I for one would like to see the two work an actual match. Secondly, it was fun to see The Godfather return, especially seeing he was eliminated almost immediately upon entering the fray. The Godfather character was one of the best opening match wrestlers ever, meaning, while not the greatest in ring talent, he would always pop the crowd with his pimp schpiel and bevy of scantily clad “ho’s.” They could never get away with that shit now days in the conservative PG television era, but back in the “Attitude Era,” it worked like a charm.
-The only problem with the Rumble match, besides the obvious conclusion, was that there were too many people in there for much of the match. Streamline it down some more so you can actually focus on what’s happening in the ring. Don’t throw so many people out there that it resembles a car wreck. I like to be able to follow most of the action, not watch random jobbers hump the bottom rope trying to evade elimination.
-Rock vs Punk. What can I say? Another foregone conclusion match. This match was solidly the CM Punk show, as Rock is still a little rusty from years away from the ring. Punk was at his dickish heel best, including one small but significant spot that had be smiling. Early in the match, on the outside of the ring, The Rock started clearing off the poor Spanish announce table, presumably to put Punk through it. Punk fought Rock off, threw him back in the ring…AND RE-SET THE SPANISH ANNOUNCE TABLE, with smiles and thumbs up from the Spanish announce crew. Just tremendous. The match itself was good, nothing spectacular, and although he lost the title this night, after a tremendous 434 day reign, CM Punk is still, easily, the best all around performer in the company, and should remain so in the foreseeable future.
The Royal Rumble is upon us. Arguably wrestlings greatest invention since the steel chair, the match has been going strong for 25+ years now, with no signs of slowing down. The match is just, for lack of a better term, fun. 30 men drawing lots, each coming out every minute to 90 seconds to two minutes (roughly…most years the guy keeping the time of the match has ADD). A man is eliminated when thrown over the top rope and both of his feet hit the floor. The match is a showcase for both great pure wrestlers, who often draw early numbers and showcase their abilities for upwards of forty minutes to an hour, to the powerhouses, the “hosses” who obliterate every mid-carder in their path. It also has a tinge of nostalgia, as, frequently, stars from the past make an appearance to spark crowd reaction. If there is a match that, truly, is foolproof, it is the Rumble.
That said, in this scribes opinion, three Rumble matches stand out more than the other 23. So without further ado, here are my top three Royal Rumbles of all time.
3. Royal Rumble, 1990. Won by Hulk Hogan
I hate having to link that many times, but I could not find the full match anywhere. Anyway, the 1990 Royal Rumble holds the distinction as the first wrestling PPV I ever saw, so if some may think I have overrated it, tough. It has sentimental value to me. It also contains a remarkable amount of star power and WWE Hall of Famers. The ending was far from in doubt, as Hulk Hogan had yet to win one of these puppies yet, and his ego dictated that he get the duke here. However, there are a couple of storylines that help to make this Rumble special.
First was this: In the previous year’s Rumble, Ted DiBiase, the Million Dollar Man, somewhat dubiously selected the best draw, number thirty. The story was he had bought the number from another wrestler. Hey, everybody has a price. His luck, and, apparently, his ends, ran out this year as he drew number one. That was the underlying storyline for the first half of the match, as he eludes elimination over and over again until finally the golden boy of the era, The Ultimate Warrior, eliminates him shortly after he enters the fray. Speaking of the Warrior…
The biggest moment of this match was the confrontation of the two biggest, shining stars of the WWF at the time: Hulk Hogan and the Ultimate Warrior. As a nine year old viewing this, it was near orgasmic, or as orgasmic as a nine year old is likely to be. I am certain it gave Vince McMahon an erection, given his predilection for larger than life roid monsters. It was far from Hackenschmidt- Gotch in terms of pure wrestling action, but when the two went nose to nose and eventually clotheslined eachother, the main event for WrestleMania VI was readily apparent. And that was a sigh of relief for WWF fans of the time, because, just by going by the ebb and flow of WWF storylines at the time, it appeared the main event for WM VI was going to be Hogan against non-wrestler Zeus, a frightening proposition. For those uninitiated, or who have blocked that memory from mind, Zeus was “Tiny: Lister, the man who played Deebo in the classic Ice Cube movie, “Friday.” He was also the antagonist in Vince McMahon’s first foray into celluloid, “No Holds Barred,” a horrible star vehicle for Hulk Hogan. Don’t get me wrong, Zeus was an imposing physical entity, but this was stretching the bounds of sanity. A guy playing a role in a movie becoming so deluded that he becomes said role, and decides to go after the star and hero of the movie? That match would have been the biggest flop in the history of pro wrestling, and that covers some significant, dubious ground. Thank God Vince McMahon had the foresight to have Warrior and Hogan face off in this Rumble.
This WAS my favorite Rumble match, and, possibly, my favorite moment ever in wrestling…until June 25, 2007.
Anyway, upon further viewing of the match, its obvious that this is one of the greatest Rumble matches ever. The story of the match lies with Chris Benoit, as he is on an odyssey to win the World Title that he so richly deserved at that point, and Smackdown GM Paul Heyman gave him this one last opportunity to attain it. Benoit had to win this match, with the caveat that he was the first man to enter the fray. The match featured the smaller Benoit systematically eliminating much larger men like Matt Morgan, Mark Henry, and, ultimately, The Big Show, who had survived elimination attempts from just about everyone in the ring. No one could eliminate the seven foot, five hundred pound monster. No two or three or eight men could do it. Benoit hooked a front chokehold on the giant and put him out, earning a title shot at WrestleMania XX. At the time, it was a true mark out moment for me, as Benoit was my favorite wrestler, and totally underutilized.
The match not only featured the Benoit saga, it showcased the return of another favorite wrestler of mine: Mick Foley. You see, Foley had been honored about a month earlier at Madison Square Garden for his accomplishments in wrestling. However, Randy Orton interrupted the proceedings and spit in Foley’s face. Literally. A match was set between the two, but Foley, uncharacteristically, begged out of the match, stating he could not summon the hate necessary to fight the young upstart “Legend Killer” Orton. Foley at the time was four years retired, with a beautiful wife and several children. How could he go to the depths he had when a star with the WWF years prior?
Well, the Rumble comes around in 04. Benoit has drawn number one, but that young whippersnapper Orton drew number two. The match had basically been built around those two, the young lion and the wily veteran. So number twenty-one comes. It was supposed to be Test, the once McMahon golden boy, but cameras panned to him being laid out before his entry. Then Raw GM Steve Austin accosted the attacker and ordered the man into the Rumble match. An exhausted Orton was dumbfounded when that entrant was…Mick Foley!!! Foley absolutely assaulted Orton from the proverbial pillar to post, eventually eliminating himself and his nemesis from the fray. It was one of the greatest Rumble storylines ever, and led to even greater matches at WrestleMania XX and Backlash a month later. but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
The other great aspect of this Rumble was Ernest “The Cat” Miller. For the uninitiated, he was the “Shiek” character in the Mickey Rourke vehicle “The Wrestler.” Never a great wrestler, but the consummate showman, Orton and Benoit were both down and out, exhausted by their efforts in trying to win the damn match. Miller enters when both men are unconscious, led by his personal ring announcer, Lamal, and he proceeds, not to beat his adversaries, but to DANCE. It is a great spot, where Benoit and Orton realize what he is doing, and eliminate both Miller and his bitch. Just a fun Rumble, won by the right guy at the right time, with some great action. This was number one, for three years. But the events of June 25, 2007, made this next entry number one.
1. Royal Rumble 1992. Winner: Ric Flair.
What can I say about this Rumble? Read the original rant on it.
The WWE’s most entertaining PPV of the year, the Royal Rumble, comes to us live tomorrow night. The highlight of the event traditionally is the actual Rumble match, in which wrestlers draw numbers one through 30, with Battle Royale rules, where a particpant is eliminated being thrown over the top rope with both feet touching the floor, which each successive number coming out every two minutes. Truly Pat Patterson’s greatest contribution to wrestling. Well, that and his epic evening gown match with Gerald Brisco at King of the Ring 2000. Or his humane treatment of ring boys. But I digress. I will rank my top three Rumble matches of all time later this evening or early tomorrow. What I wanted to discuss here are the greatest World Title matches in the events history. While most consider it an afterthought to the Rumble match, there have been some truly great Championship matches in the events now 26 year history. With that in mind, here’s my top four.
4. Royal Rumble 1995 WWF Championship: Diesel (c) vs. Bret Hart
This is almost a forgotten classic of sorts. The match was overshadowed by Shawn Michaels becoming the first man to win the Rumble from the number one slot, and the non finish of this match took away from it a tad. No matter. It is without a doubt one of Diesel/Kevin Nash’s best three matches ever, bby far, and also may be Bret Hart’s best Royal Rumble singles affair.
Diesel had been an afterthought the year prior, simply being a big bodyguard for Shawn Michaels. The WWF at that point did not have what you would call the deepest talent pool in the world at the time. So in the 1994 Rumble match, Diesel was thrown into the match relatively early as a warm body to fill some time, and, being that he is seven feet tall, and Vince McMahon is a sucker for “larger than life” physical specimens, Diesel tossed seven men in a row from the match at one point. This had the dubious side effect of getting the fans at the Providence Civic Center that year (and 13 year old me at home) firmly on Diesel’s side. Bret Hart was eventually named co-winner of the Rumble (with Lex Luger) and “The Hitman” went on to win the WWF title at WrestleMania X, in what he calls his greatest night in the business.
Behind the scenes, while Bret was the strapholder, a far more sinister plot than anything that happens on TV was unfolding. Shawn Michaels, Diesel, Razor Ramon, and 1-2-3 Kid were best friends, and decided to consolidate their power and stroke with Vinnie Mac to revolve almost all storylines and television air time around the four of them. “The Clique,” as the group was nicknamed, started running roughshod over the promotion, arguing they were the main drawing cards of the WWF, not Bret. In short order, the Intercontinental title was put on Diesel, with him beating Razor Ramon for the title. (After Razor beat Shawn for the title at WrestleMania in the infamous Ladder Match.) What was happening was Shawn and Razor were already well established with the fan base, and they wanted their buddy Diesel to get in on the action. Later in the year, at a house show the day before SummerSlam 1994, Diesel and Shawn won the tag team titles. So now Diesel was simultaneous holder of the Intercontinental and Tag Team Titles. That didn’t last too long, as at SummerSlam, Diesel lost the Intercontinental title to Razor Ramon (sensing a trend here?), in a match that saw Shawn’s interference cost Diesel the title, sowing the seeds for a break up between the two.
Meanwhile, Bret was at the top of the card (main eventing) against his brother Owen in stellar matches all around the country. They had a match to open WrestleMania X that was easily ***** and maybe the best pure technical wrestling match the WWF has ever seen. Then, at SummerSlam, they nearly topped themselves with an epic ( but bloodless) Steel Cage match that most ranked again as *****. The feud ended there, and Bret was on to a strange new feud.
Bob Backlund was a 43 year old former WWF Champion. He held the strap from 1978-1983, losing to the Iron Sheik under dubious circumstances. The Sheik in turn lost it to a guy you may have heard of…Hulk Hogan. Backlund, a solid but vanilla wrestler, left the promotion as the era of Hulkamania took over the world.
So Backlund returns to WWF almost ten years later, still with the squeaky clean “Opie Taylor” image. He finally gets a title shot at Bret midway through the year…and loses. Bret, ever the gallant good guy, offered his hand to Backlund in a show of sportsmanship after the match. Backlund, for his entire career a good guy, snapped and put Bret in his Cross Face Chicken Wing Submission hold until broken up by WWF officials. Backlund was now heel, and it led to a submission match for the WWF title at Surviror Series 1994. The concept of the match was that Backlund had Owen Hart in his corner, and Bret had brother in law Davey Boy Smith in his. Each cornerman had a towel, and when they felt their representative had suffered enough, they would throw in the towel. Well, Owen suckered Davey into chasing him around the ring, and Davey inadvertently knocked himself out on the steel steps right as Bret was trapped in Backlund’s crossface. Owen shed crocodile tears to his and Bret’s mother and father, Stu and Helen, who generally sat ringside at the time for Bret’s big title defenses. Stu was smart to his son’s ways, but Helen was too moved by the vision of her suffering son and threw in the towel. Backlund was now WWF Champion, and Bret spent the next month plus at home selling the injuries he sustained.
Now back to the Clique, as this is where they solidified their power. Backlund was CRAZY over with fans as a heel, playing a demented old man constantly staring at his own hands in disbelief of the acts he had just committed. It was a great character and a testament to Backlund’s total commitment to said character. However, at the same PPV he won the belt, Diesel and Shawn, the star crossed lovers, finally broke up. Less than a week later at a house show (non televised event) at Madison Square Garden, Diesel beat Backlund for the title…in 8 seconds. Welcome to the Clique era kiddies.
So the Rumble comes around, and Bret has returned with a new edgier attitude. Not too edgy, not a heel, but edgier still. He wants his title back and Diesel has it. However, so do Bob Backlund and Diesel’s now mortal enemy, Shawn Michaels, as well as new Intercontinental Champion Jeff Jarrett. the result is the match you see above, with Bret as the aggressor for the boot of the match, helping, as only Bret could, to get Diesel more over (popular) with the fans while keeping both their characters firmly on the good side of the force. ****1/4
3. Royal Rumble Match 1992, for the vacant WWF Championship
Threw ya a curveball here, didn’t I? This match (SPOILER!) will also appear on my top three Rumble matches of all time, but this was the one time the WWF title was on the line in one of these matches, and my God it was a doozy. The background was that Hulk Hogan had defended the title against rookie phenom The Undertaker at Survivor Series 1991. In matches such as these in the past, old Hulk would have routinely dispatched Taker with the Big Boot and Legdrop. But times were changing, and fans were getting tired of Hogan’s generally stale act (Think John Cena nowadays). So, with the assistance of new WWF addition Ric Flair, the Undertaker defeated Hogan to win his first WWF title. (And thus making the Undertaker, the first in a chain of events that catapulted him to become, perhaps, the greatest superstar in WWF/E history. Funny how things work out.)
However, then WWF “President” Jack Tunney did not appreciate Flair’s shenanigans affecting the outcome, and decided to book a rematch for the title, with Tunney himself sitting at ringside to ensure all rules were met, on a one time only PPV five days later called “This Tuesday in Texas.” The rematch was as big a clusterfuck as the first match, with Tunney being knocked out, Flair again involved, and a finish that saw Hogan use the ashes from the Undertaker’s urn (if you don’t know, don’t ask. Please.) to blind Taker, hit him with the big leg and win the title for a fourth time. Tunney was nonplussed and stripped Hogan of the title (literally the only time figurehaed Tunney came down in a decision against the vaunted Hulkster) and opted to put the title up to the winner of the 1992 Royal Rumble. Simpler times, kiddies, simpler times. The caveat was that the two last holders of the title, Hogan and Undertaker, would be drawing not for a lot of one through thirty, but would be given a number to draw from 20-30.
Now, this match is great for several notable reasons. Number one is the sheer star power in this puppy. Bulldog, DiBiase. Bossman. Von Erich. Piper. Hogan. Undertaker. A freshly heel turned, and just staring his single career, Shawn Michaels. Repo Man. Just an amazing roster for this match, truly the WWF at its deepest.
The second reason for the matches greatness is simply Ric Flair. Flair drew #3 in this bad boy, and lasted the entire way, winning his first WWF championship. In reality, Flair had been the top draw of the rival NWA for years, and he always considered himself a “60 minute man” in reference to his numerous 60 minute matches with regional challengers as NWA Champion. WWF at the time ran a different formula, as their dominant champ, Hogan, usually went about ten to fifteen minutes a night. Thus, this match, with Flair the centerpiece for the entire thing, was designed to try to bring some of Flair’s loyal NWA fans over to the WWF. It worked.
Thirdly, the main reason this match is so great, so epic, is simply the commentary of Gorilla Monsoon and ESPECIALLY Bobby Heenan. Heenan was billed as Flair’s “Financial Advisor” at the time, and he was always crowing on and on AND ON about Flair’s greatness, and how people need to be “Fair to Flair.” Well, when Flair draws number three, “The Brain” throws a conniption, and he is completely biased and hilarious the rest of the way, as Monsoon eggs him on. Bobby and Gorilla are fondly remembered these days for their commentary back in the day, and this match (and WrestleMania VIII) is their absolute peak as a duo. Put everything together, and not only is it the best Rumble of all time (SPOLIER ALERT!), but also one of the great WWF title matches of all time.
But, you say, what can top that? With all that star power, Flair, everything you just mentioned, what two matches can possibly top that? How about a simple, straight ahead, no frills WRESTLING match of the first order?
2. Royal Rumble 2003, WWE Championship, Kurt Angle (c) vs. Chris Benoit
Preface: I do not condone the actions of Chris Benoit in June of 2007. He was my favorite wrestler, and on that day he became one of the biggest monsters earth has ever encountered. A little over five years later, I am able to finally watch some of his matches again with some objectivity. While I don’t enjoy them in the joyous ways I used to, I can recognize good wrestling.
This match is a cut above. It came at a time when, on Raw, HHH was plodding around working “WWE Main Event Style” matches with slugs like Scott Steiner. In fact, directly prior to this match, Steiner and Trips put on one of the worst title matches ever, easily one of the bottom three in Rumble history. On Smackdown, however, with wrestlers such as Benoit, Angle, Brock Lesnar, Eddie Guerrero, Rey Mysterio, et. al, it seemed as there was an emphasis being place on a much different style, one relying more on technical skills and amateur know how. It was a breath of fresh air as compared to the monotonous kick and punch, finisher after finisher, use of every weapon not nailed down style popularized by Steve Austin, HHH, Rock, Undertaker and the like. Benoit and Angle, quite simply, were two of the greatest pure wrestlers the pseudo sport has ever seen. Benoit and Angle were firmly in their prime here, and they let it all hang out. They had had many great encounters in the past, but this was the culmination, maybe the best pure wrestling match I have ever seen in the WWE. Counters to counters to reversals of counters. High impact offense. Its all there. It was, and despite my disclaimer, remains one of my five favorite matches of all time. No frills, no bullshit, no weapons, no run-ins, just two wrestlers beating this everloving shit out of eachother for 30 minutes. A true classic, won by Angle with his unbreakable “Heel Hook” version of the Ankle Lock. After the match, after Angle has left victorious and a defeated Benoit struggles to his feet, an unexpected thing happened. The crowd cheered. Loudly. Wildly. For the LOSER. That was how great the match was, that the defeated man was giving a standing ovation for his efforts. At the time, it was my favorite moment ever in wrestling. Now it saddens me to no end. But it doesn’t take away from the fact that this was THE best non-gimmick WWE title match in Rumble history. A true ***** affair, and if one could go higher than the 5 sprinklies, I would. Unreal.
So, then, what possibly could be number one? I recently edited this list, because I realized about an hour after posting it that I had fucked up royally. I completely forgot about this match, simply because the match transcended whatever event it was held on. Without further ado:
1. Royal Rumble 2000, WWF Championship Street Fight: Triple H (c) vs. Cactus Jack
Sorry for the three parter , but I could not find a full match video with decent video quality. I am also sorry for the egregious overdubbing of Cactus Jack’s music. Seriously, did the WWF lost its copyrights to its OWN FUCKING MUSIC or something? Ugh.
Anyway, that thought aside, Triple H, at the height of his egomania in the mid 2000’s, when asked why he would not put over (lose) younger stars to benefit the future of the business, had this pearl of wisdom:
“What big star ever put me over?”
Well then, lets explain this one. You see, Triple H had turned heel at WrestleMania XV (the worst WrestleMania ever) in March of 1999. He was hugely over as the babyface leader of D-X, but was never a man regarded as anything more than a gimmick, a lackey who rode Shawn Michaels coattails to the top and a middling worker whose matches generally revolved around a series of moves involving his knee. Thats not resentment or bitterness, that is straight fact for anyone who watched the man in that time. However, once he turned heel, ole Vinnie Mac strapped the rocket to Trips ass, propelling him to main event status to the audible groans of the audience. He won his first world title the night after Summer Slam 1999, but was so lukewarm with the paying audience that he lost the title twice in the span of three months, first to VINCE MCMAHON, in one of the more embarrassing episodes in wrestling history, then to similarly lukewarm face The Big Show, in an effort to justify his ten year contract signed earlier in the year, as well to appease Vince’s priapism for big men. The head booker of the WWF at the time, Vince Russo, was high on HHH, as well as another project, Test.
Test was a big guy with incredible hair (much like Trips, and, as Internet Wrestling reporter Scott Keith puts it, the key to success in WWF/E is to be tall, muscular, with a full head of hair), a “former Motley Crue bodyguard” who entered his hat into the ring wars. He started a storyline that I won’t get into here too much, simply because of all the elements involved, but suffice to say, he started “dating” Stephanie McMahon, Vince’s then naive young daughter. After fighting for both Vince and Stephanie’s brother Shane’s approval, he finally won it, and the two were to be wed on Raw in December of 1999.
If you don’t see what is coming here, you have no business reading this article, or have never watched wrestling. But allow me to explain briefly.
Viince Russo was the man booking at this period for WWF. His booking was literally fly by the seat of your pants style, as he literally scribbled his plans on napkins at breakfast in the morning and had them approved by Vinnie Mac by showtime. So he was the only guy who had any fucking clue (or was perceived to have any clue…) where this was all heading. Unfortunately (or fortunately) his contract came to an end in October that year, and he jumped to the competition, WCW, leaving WWF seemingly in a lurch. The WWF prolonged the agony of the marriage by having Davey Boy Smith accidentally hit Stephanie in the head with a trash can, causing temporary amnesia (only in wrestling folks) while the WWF braintrust came up with a new course of action.
That course of action came to be HHH. As the bride and groom were about to exchange nuptials in the ring, out came HHH to object on the grounds that he was already married to Stephanie! And indeed he produced video footage of he and a roofied Stephanie at a drive in Las Vegas chapel, where Hunter faked Stephanie’s vows for the moron conducting the ceremony. Only in wrestling. He also made sure to explain to Vince that the newlyweds had “consummated the marriage” repeatedly. But the WWF has never done rape angles. Nope. Never. Anyway, Vince, vengeful father, wanted revenge, and revenge NOW, so he challenged Trips to a match at Armageddon 1999.
In the end of that match, Vince was about to slug HHH with his own weapon of choice, the sledgehammer, when Stephanie intervened and insisted to her father that she be the one to take it to Hunter. Uh-oh. In a surprise to roughly 8 people at the time, Stephanie turned on her dad, hit him with the sledge, and revealed she had been in cahoots with HHH all along. HHH won the match, and suddenly was the most over heel in the business. Vince and Shane McMahon took some time off to lick their family wounds, while HHH and Stephanie, as a married couple with McMahon ties, played their role as evil figureheads to the hilt. Early in January 2000, HHH beat the Big Show to regain the WWF Championship. Also that month, the McMahon-Helmsley era, as they were now known, put two of HHH’s biggest enemies, The Rock and Mankind, in a “Pink Slip on a Pole” match. Simply put, the loser was fired. Rock won the match, and poor Mankind was sacked.
Well, the Rock wasn’t going to let that stand, as he hated HHH and had befriended Mankind as one half of the Rock and Sock Connection, so the next week, Rock led the entire locker room to strike against HHH and Steph, and forced them to reinstate Mankind, as well as grant him a title shot at HHH at Royal Rumble 2000. Later in the show, however, HHH brutalized Mankind, pedigreed(his finishing move) him through the announce table, and left Mankind lying in a pool of his own blood.
Well, Mankind’s character was that of a mentally deranged psychopath, so when he came out the next week to confront HHH, it was somewhat surprising when he said that “Mankind is not the man to face HHH at the Royal Rumble.” HHH and Stephanie were laughing, but, well, lets let the video package do the talking:
Pretty good, eh? You see, Cactus Jack, for you uninitiated, was Mick “Mankind” Foley’s wrestling persona for fifteen years prior to joining the WWF. He wrestled in a litany of the most barbaric matches you can imagine over more continents than you can probably name. Barbed wire, C-4 death matches, chards of glass, thumbtacks, you name it, he had subjected his body to it. The man was a menace. That is the character of Cactus Jack, the fictional persona. In reality, the man, Mick Foley, at 33, had put his body through more abuse than some Vietnam Veterans, and he was looking to retire on a high note while his body was still cooperating. In WWF lore of that time, Cactus was a good persona, sure, but not one that had competed at a main event, world title level. The way Foley put forward that persona, and, more importantly, the way HHH REACTED to that persona made Cactus Jack into this almost mythical entity. It may have been the best build-up to a match in the company’s history. What sucked about that was all of a sudden, this beaten up, almost washed up icon, and this sycophant who had risen to the top of the WWF through friends, now had to live up to this just amazing hype they had built up. I remember watching it live in 2000. Upon initial viewing of the match, I remember saying to myself, “It was good, but…” In reality, that was me, as a HUGE Mick Foley fan, responding to the fact that he lost, as well as a HHH doubter responding to his win, if that makes sense in this silly pseudo-sport. But it was true: Foley had given his life to the business, did everything right, and landed himself a great way to go out on top. HHH, on the other hand, took every shortcut known to man, became friends with the right people, alienated many, and, seemingly, did not improve at his craft in-ring. Then I viewed it again, and, my word, HHH CARRIES this match. It is his true coming out party, and it led to a year for a wrestler I have not seen equaled since. HHH was GOD in 2000 and early 2001, and I was happy to eat crow for once. Unfortunately, after his quad injury in one of the greatest Raw matches of all time (that’s coming soon too), he returned, bloated, banging (in real life) the bosses daughter, and utterly insufferable. Mick Foley, at this point, was one of the big three WWF Stars that led them to destroy WCW in the ratings, with Austin and Rock. So, to answer HHH’s question that began this little diatribe: What big star laid down for me? Well, Paul, how about Mick Fucking Foley?
BTW, Rock and Austin also laid down for HHH. Not that I am bitter.
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