Evening, folks! I’m Bachur, and I welcome you back to Pops & Botches: The Lesnar Years. Where we left off, Eddie Guerrero scrambled Edge’s brains, Chris Benoit and Kurt Angle tried and failed to coexist, John Cena was sacrificed to an Eldritch being and Brock Lesnar called the cops on the Undertaker. You can watch Unforgiven here. Next Big Thing!
The Golden Dyad
Before we begin, I should point out that the big selling point of Unforgiven is not one, but TWO World title matches. Booking your World Champion to work two shows a week would be a nightmare so it’s understandable to have one World Champ per brand, but I’m not buying it. The only way to balance both belts and make them equally valuable would be to defend only one of them per PPV so that they’re always in the main event. Defending two top belts on every show invariably leads to devaluing one or the other. Couldn’t you alternate defenses between them, month-to-month, and then defend both of them on the Big Four?
Then again, you could also discard the monthly shows and run PPVs every two months to make booking easier. You could also only do the Big Four and—ahh, I’m getting off-track. We’ve got two world title matches per PPV, people. Enjoy.
Okay, with that out of the way, let’s get right into FUCK
POP, I GUESS?: American Idiots
Remember when I praised SummerSlam for opening with a fast-paced contest between two of the best and most entertaining wrestlers on the planet? Hopefully not! Here’s the Un-Americans! But wait -I hear you ask- I count FOUR Un-Americans! Yes indeed, eagle-eyed reader, that’s NXT Paterfamilias and all-around joy of my life William Regal joining the fray. Regal needs no introduction, but in case you’re unaware, he’s a British blueblood with a stick up his ass who makes a living stretching people into submission. He’s fun in-ring and on the mic, but he’s on Raw, so he’s not our division. I was about to ask why the Un-Americans consist of three Canadians and one Englishman, but Team Canada was only ½ Canadian, so it’s par for the course.
The Masters of Evil aren’t defending their tag titles tonight (thankfully), as they’re up against Booker T, Goldust, Bubba Ray Dudley and Kane. AKA, the Odd Couple and the Other, Odder Couple. Odd Tetrad? Both the crowd and the announce team detest the Un-Americans for more reasons than I could possibly list, and Booker T’s getting more over by the minute. He’s also black, if you hadn’t noticed, so plays the part of D-Von here. He assists Bubba with the Wassup Headbutt and GETS THE TABLE. They don’t actually use the table, so I don’t know what this spot was for, but thank god we have a black dude to get it! Can’t have Kane getting the table, that’d just be stupid. Speaking of Kane, he’s a babyface now, and soon to be reminded of his deceased ex-girlfriend. We’ll get to that next month. Goodie.
Aside from a weird little moment where Regal and Booker (my two favorite guys in the match) fuck up an irish whip, this is a pretty fun multi-man tag. Everybody gets their stuff in. Superkick, Bubba Bomb, Shattered Dreams, Spinaroonie, everything. Finish is pretty weird, though: Kane chokeslams Lance Storm, Regal pulls out the brass knucks, Kane punches Regal in the face… and then just pins Storm. Yes, that’s Tag Team Champion Lance Storm eating the pin in a non-title match. Some things never change.
SLIGHT BOTCH: Five Minute Warning
Oh yeah, there’s a Women’s Championship on Raw. Silly me. Molly Holly won the belt from Trish three months ago at King of the Ring, and this is her first PPV defense. That should tell you something. The only women’s matches I’ve reviewed so far are Nidia vs. Torrie Wilson, so I know it must sound like I hate distaff wrestling, but I actually kinda liked this one. Molly’s throwing single-leg dropkicks like she’s Yoshinobu Kanemaru, and Trish can totally keep up. Neither the crowd nor the announcers give a shit, but they work with what they’ve got. Unfortunately, they’ve only got five and a half minutes, so Trish gets a bulldog out of nowhere for the win and the title. Trish gets choked up thanking the fans, and though the Women’s Championship is worth less than the Venezuelan bolívar at this point in time, I’m happy for her.
SLIGHT POP: Dirty Dancing
Ric Flair chellenges Chris Jericho for the Intercontinetal Championship… okay, a lot going on here: First, at SummerSlam, Rob Van Dam defeated Chris Benoit to bring the Intercontinental Championship to Raw. He quickly defeated Tommy Dreamer to unify the belt with the Hardcore Championship and became Number 1 Contender for Triple H’s shiny new Big Gold Belt, then lost the IC to Chris Jericho. Jericho himself lost a singles match to Ric Flair at SummerSlam, making Flair his first challenger. Smart booking. Flair also lost to Triple H in the first ever WWE World Heavyweight Championship match a few weeks ago. Incidentally, this is Flair’s first time challenging for the Intercontinental title. Ric also ALSO lost a singles match six days before this, however, so I’m not sure if he’s fit to challenge. A singles match to whom, you may ask? To Rico Constantino. Yes, that Rico.
While the match is barely above the six-minute mark, it might be a shade better than the one at SummerSlam, though it’s just as basic. After Ric works the legs for like maybe ten seconds, Jericho misses a Lionsault and starts crawling on all fours, screaming for a medic. Flair wrote the book on this type of shit, but he SOMEHOW turns his back on Jericho, who immediately gets back up and locks him in the Walls for the quick tap-out. How in the actual fuck did Flair fall for that, seriously? Ric Flair got caught slipping, lost to Triple H, Chris Jericho and Rico, and our retaining Intercontinental Champion dances a fucking jig. Match gets a Pop just for that.
That’s not the last we see of Flair, though; Triple H shows up in the locker room to shit on Van Dam for being too chill (which is kinda like shitting on a fish for swimming) and calls Ric Flair a washed-up old fart. Rude, but not that far off, I suppose.
BOTCH: Reign Maker
Since losing to Shawn Michaels and subsequently crippling him, Triple H defeated the Undertaker on Raw to become Number 1 Contender for Brock Lesnar’s Undisputed title. When Lesnar jumped ship to SmackDown, Eric Bischoff was left with a Number 1 Contender and no championship to challenge for. Instead of setting up a multi-man match or tournament to determine the inaugural champion, he grabbed an old Big Gold Belt he had laying around the office and handed it to Hunter. Yeah, that easy. Triple H’s Heavyweight Championship run from now until like 2005 has been the subject of much discussion, and I’m sure we’ll partake in it soon enough, but for now we have our first PPV challenger: RVD.
As mentioned, the former Intercontinental Champion won a Fatal Four-way to earn his Number 1 Contendership and then immediately lost the Intercontinental Championship to Chris Jericho via submission. You’d think they could’ve done one before the other, but whatever. The feud makes sense, at least. Triple H is an angry, insecure ball of muscle who screams about how important THIS BUSINESS is, meanwhile Van Dam looks like he barely knows where he’s at. The crowd loves Rob, so this should be good. Keyword being should, because it’s not.
The only thing to note about the first ten minutes is RVD doing Hunter’s water bottle spot, and then it’s ten more minutes of Triple H chinlocks. It’s Rob Van Dam, guys, this isn’t that hard. All this needed to be was 12 or 15 minutes of Rob picking up speed, with Hunter occasionally cutting him off. That’s not to say RVD doesn’t flip, but when most of the match is Hunter getting heat, it doesn’t amount to much. Hunter bumps the ref and grabs a sledgehammer, the sly devil, so Ric Flair runs out to get even. Three guesses as to what happens next.
Okay, let’s run it back: Triple H lost to Shawn Michaels and was awarded a world championship because the actual world champion didn’t want to show up to work. Rob Van Dam tapped out to Chris Jericho, then lost a title match to Triple H, who wouldn’t have beaten him without the help of a 53-year-old who also lost to Chris Jericho in the dumbest way imaginable earlier in the night. Nobody looks good. Unforgiven, unforeseen…
???: It’s a Newman, Yes, It Is
D’Lo Brown and Billy Kidman (alternate universe Best Friends) argue backstage about how much that last match sucked when they get interrupted by Celebrity Guess Star Eric Braeden. Yes, Eric Braeden, famous for his portrayal of Victor Newman in The Young and the Restless. I definitely didn’t have to google any of this up. He’s gonna have sex with Dawn Marie! Jamie Noble is not booked!
POP: Now We’re Talking
I don’t even remember how this feud came about, but I do know Edge forced Eddie Guerrero to eat his nephew’s asshole, so things have gotten heated. At SummerSlam, Guerrero worked the shoulder and Edge totally forgot to sell it, so this time Eddie cuts out the middle-man and works over Edge’s mildly concussed head. Said mild concussion comes from getting hit with the SmackDown Special on Friday, so Edge is probably lucky his brain didn’t start leaking.
This is exactly the match I wanted from these two at SummerSlam. Eddie’s bumping like an utter madman for the big guy, as he always does, and it’s so, so great. He takes a punch to the face like a tree falling in the woods, I can’t get enough of him. Edge isn’t far behind, he’s fast, he’s extremely over, and he sells the bodypart. It even plays into the finish! Edge attempts an avalanche Edgecution but gets his head rammed into a previously-exposed top turnbuckle, and Eddie capitalizes by Sunset-Flipping him to the center of the goddamn earth. Eddie’s an asshole, so he makes sure to hold the tights for the pinfall (pictured) and goes 2-1 against the rising star. Great stuff, top to bottom, and these two still have one last great match left in them…
BOTCH: Kiss the Girls
To recap: Billy & Chuck were gonna get married but then didn’t because they weren’t gay, their officiant was Eric Bischoff dressed as a funny old man, Stephanie McMahon kicked him in the balls, and now depending on who wins this match Stephanie or Bischoff will have to kiss a woman or a woman’s ass, respectively. This is 3MW’s first official tag team match, and they’re currently accompanied by weirdo stylist turned weirdo hype-man Rico. Rico still holds a pinfall victory over Ric Flair, by the way. The highlight of this match is Michael Cole listing 3MW’s bodycount, which I’ll quote for your reading pleasure:
Equal-opportunity asskickers, Rosey and Jamal! Their hitlist is a who’s who of America: You got wrestlers like Shawn Stasiak and D’Lo Brown. How about Moolah and Mae Young, the WWE legends; how about Lilian García, the ring announcer. The Big Show! Mini-Dust! Jimmy Snuka, the WWE Hall of Famer! Jeff Hardy! LESBIANS!
What a line-up. Okay, the match: Rosey misses a moonsault, so that’s something. Unfortunately, Billy attempts to headbutt a Samoan against another Samoan, which might be the dumbest thing a man named Mr. Ass has ever done. Rico gets involved, Billy clotheslines him, and 3MW get the W. If you’re paying attention, that means Stephanie McMahon’s gonna get into some HLA. Can’t wait to see how they fuck this up!
Backstage, 3MW and Rico are gonna get it on with the lesbians here in Los Angeles. Pay no attention to the fact that they’re supposed to be lesbians. It’s in the name. I’m also fairly certain Rico is gay, so this is like rubbing two magnets together. Smiling Eric continues to milk the HLA gimmick dry, and he enters the ring accompanied by two gorgeous ladies: Peaches and Cream. Sugar and Spice would’ve also sufficed. P&C tease a little premature Room-Temperature Lesbian Action until Eric cuts them off, and it’s time for this fucking feud to end. Steph shows up, the Lesbians go full PG-13 aaaaaaaaaaand Eric cuts them off again. No, see, there’s a mystery lesbian! Yeah, mystery lesbian. I wonder who it could oh you have got to be fucking kidding me
This is Hildegard, AKA “literally just Rikishi in a wig”. Steph kisses Hildegard, who quickly unmasks and Stinkfaces Bischoff. JR notes “Bischoff just got outsmarted again!” which implies this was all part of Stephanie’s plan. Stephanie had the foresight to ask Rikishi to dress up in drag and play a lesbian because she correctly assumed that
- Billy and Chuck would lose,
- Bischoff somehow wouldn’t recognize Rikishi in drag, and
- Bischoff would pick Rikishi in drag instead of either Peaches and/or Cream.
Stephanie had so little faith in Billy and Chuck that she went through the trouble of setting up a big-ass scheme that only worked because Bischoff is dumber than a bag of rocks. That’s not even the best part: The payoff to this entire feud, this entire HLA angle, this entire Billy and Chuck tag team run… is a Stinkface spot. And Vince laughed. Oh, how he laughed.
POP: Lock-Up
SmackDown’s really pulling its weight tonight, huh? After weeks of dueling stinkfaces, belly laughs and submissions, Kurt Angle and Chris Benoit finally get to have some fun. These two have wrestled each other more times than I can count, including two Wrestlemanias in a row, Ultimate Submission, 2/3 Falls, Three Stages of Hell, Steel Cage, you name it. The two best wrestlers on the planet who just so happen to hate the absolute shit out of each other. Just seething, constant seething.
Naturally, I love every second of this, but the LA crowd is eating it up, too. In one of the best spots I’ve seen in a while, Angle snatches an Ankle Lock whilst still in the Crossface and the crowd ROARS. Benoit rolls him back to the Crossface, same result. Angle’s hand is hovering over the mat and you can hear every person in the building screaming at the top of their lungs, it’s insane. The finish is a bit of a mixed bag: Angle locks Benoit in the Crossface and uses his free leg to push the rope away (so dope) before Benoit reverses into a rope-assisted lateral press. It’s a little sloppy, and it’s not clean, but it’ll do. I’d be madder if this was their last ever match but I know we’re four months away from Rumble ’03, and holy shit, I cannot wait.
BOTCH: Keep the Fire Burning
At SummerSlam 2002, Brock Lesnar became WWE Champion after less than six months on the main roster. A twenty-five-year-old who ran through RVD, Hulk Hogan, The Rock, everyone. Never been beaten, pinned or submitted. A supernova. Knowing that, Undertaker seems like the perfect challenger, doesn’t he? Brock’s mirror image. One one of the most feared wrestlers in the history of the company. The only man who could conceivably put a stop to the young champion. Twenty-six years old when he won his first WWF Championship… ten years ago. Taker is the old guard. Brock is the avalanche. That’s all you really need to tell a compelling story. A striker against a grappler. Old battles New. Brock even threatened Taker’s family, and in WWE, “threatening my family” trumps “shooting me in the face with a shotgun”. We’ve got a good build going, and we’ve got two good powerhouses.
No bike for Taker tonight, but he finally enters to the incredible “You’re Gonna Pay”, which includes the line “Badasses, always kicking asshole’s ass”. Who wrote this, me? Lesnar’s belt is also three times smaller, which still looks beautiful, although I was starting to love his gigantic cummerbund. Anyway, the match starts off great, with Lesnar strolling to the opposite corner and staring down the Deadman. He does that weird amateur slide (you know the one) so Taker puts his dukes up and scares him back. Lesnar pushes Taker around, and Taker bounces him out of the ring. One minute in, and they’ve already told you everything you need to know.
The issue here is that, well, Brock threatened Taker’s pregnant wife and swung a chair across his skull. This should be a BLOOD FEUD, and yet Taker’s out here doing armdrags and wristlocks. Why is he setting Lesnar up for the Old School instead of just punching him in the face? Shouldn’t this be Tully vs. Magnum? Most of the match is fine, don’t get me wrong, it’s just not the match they’ve been building to, in more ways than one. After about twenty minutes of perfectly acceptable-if-overbooked action, including a useless Matt Hardy run-in, two chairshots (of course), two blade-jobs and two ref bumps, it breaks down into a brawl. The big oafs start exchanging strikes in the corner and squish the ref, who calls for the goddamn bell.
In the main event. On PPV. For the WWE Championship. In Lesnar’s first title defense. After twenty fucking minutes. You could hear the boos from outer space. They continue to brawl after the bell, and Taker tosses Brock’s ass through the entrance. Rumors state Undertaker didn’t want to job, but Hogan, the Rock and Austin either jobbed, left, or both. I think this was the plan all along. They wanted a title match, but they didn’t want to blow the feud off. They just had to do a fuck-finish on a PPV main event, guys. It’s not like they have, I dunno, two world titles or anything.
What was that? Right. Not the match they’ve been building to.
And that’s our show! Join us next week as Matt Hardy picks another fight he probably won’t win, Torrie Wilson moves onto a worse feud than Nidia, Eddie Guerrero and Edge put an end to their rivalry, Funaki straight up dies, and 3/6ths of the SmackDown Six do battle in our main event. Make sure to leave a comment below (I read all of them, trust me) and join the Discord. SmackDown!
