An ambitious undertaking to say the least, Alternative Wrestling's 20 Most Essential Matches (1982-2001) is the consummation of dozens of hours of research and reflection on pro wrestling's most momentous in-ring performances of the past two decades. Whether they featured astonishing athleticism or riveting drama, or simply kindled the business' historical fires, our aim is to recognize the most enjoyable bouts of wrestling's often-baffling, always-unpredictable recent past.
In compiling this melange of mat masterworks, we encountered one overriding dilemma: Pro wrestling evolves extremely rapidly and exists in a number of divergent forms. Consequently, we had a difficult time establishing a fair set of criteria that would allow us to include matches from across all of the historical and stylistic spectrums of the business. As a result, we felt compelled to make a few allowances.
First, pro wrestling exists all over the world, and comparing matches from different genres is frequently like apples and oranges: same position on the food pyramid, much different flavor. Second, the business advances at a staggering rate, and, realistically, matches that were exceptional within the context of the early-'80s did not showcase the same level of highly-evolved athleticism that distinguishes today's choicest bouts. With those mitigating factors in mind, we ultimately assembled the list while employing three main standards, in order of importance: relative aesthetic quality, influence, and magnitude. In that sense, we intend for this to be a collection of matches that are the most essential viewing for wrestling fans who seek to be well-rounded, as opposed to a grouping of the matches that featured the greatest frequency of topes con hilos and Japanese Ocean Cyclone suplexes. We certainly considered workrate an overriding variable, but we also placed great emphasis on a given match's historical significance and/or time-tested appeal.
Naturally, this endeavor is highly subjective, and it should be taken as such. Over the past 20 years, pro wrestling has featured a wealth of exciting, athletically-superior, and memorable in-ring action. The fact that we (reluctantly) had to exclude so many exceedingly gifted performers and truly classic matches only underscores how selective this process was. We certainly welcome any constructive criticism; our list is far from definitive, and if you have any complaints regarding any bouts you feel we are ignorant dunces for ommitting, or even want to submit your own mock list of your personal favorite matches, feel free to Email us.
Now, let us get all pensive and misty-eyed as we revist the 20 most indispensable matches of the modern era, shall we? It's time for AWR to commemorate pro wrestling's vast treasure trove of eminent in-ring exploits...
Tiger Mask (Satoru Sayama) vs. Dynamite Kid
WWF Junior Heavyweight Title
August 5, 1982; New Japan; Tokyo
The Kid himself partially credits his rivalry with Sayama for inducing the rash of injuries that rendered him paralyzed by age 38. And, in terms of sheer brutality, the series of bouts between the two men surely rank among the foremost in wrestling history. However, their historical significance extends far deeper. Largely based on the strength of the Dynamite-Sayama feud, the junior heavyweight division began receiving top billing on cards throughout Japan (and, in due time, throughout most of the world), and most prominent lighter-weight luminaries of subsequent eras -- including the great Jushin Liger, Chris Benoit, the Great Sasuke, Ultimo Dragon, Owen Hart, and countless others -- were directly inspired by the revolutionary action.
The vast majority of these historic, trendsetting encounters adhered to a distinctive mold that became an archetype for how to work a junior heavyweight match. First, after the two engaged in a breathtaking interval of state-of-the-art chain wrestling, Mask would briefly gain the advantage and tease taking to the air -- only to hold off and leave the fans arrested in anticipation for the next several minutes. Dynamite would gain the upperhand and work over his rival with a brutal battery of suplexes and stiff blows, before mounting the top rope and unleashing a flying headbutt and/or a flying kneedrop. Sayama would reverse the momentum (often by sending the Kid soaring over the top rope, at which point an unforgiving bump was awaiting Dynamite on the arena floor), then appease the crowd's anticipatory fervor by soaring through the air with a death-defying dive and/or the Space Flying Tiger Drop (handspring plancha). In this particular case, the Tiger performed a running dive over the top rope (virtually unheard of in Japan or the U.S. at the time), then followed up with the Tiger Driver (cradle piledriver) and a moonsault press for the win.
Within 25 minutes of one awe-inspiring move after another, the two masters had, once again, raised the already-lofty bar that they were singularly responsible for creating. Nothing even remotely as spectacular would present itself until Jushin Liger's accession as the best worker in the world in 1988 and 1989. And, as much as aerial wrestling has evolved in the past 20 years, no series of matches can ever boast of being as influential over an entire genre.
Also Recommended: Tiger Mask vs. Dynamite Kid, August 23, 1983
Ric Flair vs. Kerry Von Erich
NWA Title Cage Match
Dec. 25, 1982; World Class Championship Wrestling; Dallas, Texas
It's not altogether clear what was more scalding-hot at the time of this Reunion Arena World Title match: fan interest in World Class Championship Wrestling, or the elements on a typical day in the Lone Star State. Fritz Von Erich's wrestling promotion was riding high in a blaze of glory at the time of its annual Christmas Night mega-card, principally due to the teeny-bopper, faddish appeal of his down-home, God-fearin' offspring. Kerry, 22, may have been the youngest of the three active Von Erichs (Kevin was 26, David -- the best worker -- was 24), but he was also the most chiseled and charismatic, and, as the unofficial "Uncrowned World Champion," he ostensibly had the best chance of unseating Flair. In fact, all three of Texas' resident wrestling prodigies had already come oh-so-close to tasting the delectability of World Championship glory on several occasions, only to be thwarted at every turn by the "Nature Boy's" underhanded tactics. This time, though, Kerry had two of his friends presiding over the bout, to forestall any of "The Dirtiest Player in the Game's" infamous chicanery: Michael "PS" Hayes, the special co-referee, and Terry Gordy, the outside-the-cage enforcer.
The fever pitch of the crowd throughout the match, augmented by the presence of the charismatic Hayes, was a sight to behold; the record-setting gathering in Dallas truly believed that their hero was the rightful World Champ, and Christmas Night seemed the perfect time for him to bring home the one (golden) present they all had been pining. Von Erich was still fairly green, but Flair -- a year into his first World Title reign -- did an even more masterful job than usual, leading his foe to an absolutely enthralling match. The main story tangents were simple, but effective: Flair set up the figure four by honing his focus in on his younger opponent's knee, while Von Erich cudgeled the champ by raking his face across the cage and pounding him with flurries of punches. Flair bled a gusher, and it appeared inevitable that Kerry would lock in the vaunted clawhold. Finally, at just past the fifteen minute mark, Von Erich caught Flair as the latter came off the top rope and, as the "Nature Boy" faded from consciousness on the mat, the crowd went ballistic. Hayes, who had been animatedly consulting with Gordy over in the corner, made a strange, yet galling, move by rescuing Flair from the jaws of defeat and forcing Von Erich to release the hold, citing that the defending champ's foot had brushed against the bottom rope. The crowd hissed their disapproval over this unexpected turn of events, and Von Erich also seethed -- but only before Hayes punched Flair in the mouth and frantically urged that the challenger make the cover. Needless to say, Kerry and the crowd were thoroughly confounded by Hayes' abrupt, ambiguous actions.
Their confusion turned to rage moments later, when Hayes pushed Von Erich and then fled the cage. The thoroughly agitated Kerry went to follow and, as he poked his head outside the door -- WHAM! Gordy slammed it shut, crushing the challenger's skull and, accordingly, the hopes and dreams of every wrestling fan in Texas. The concussed Von Erich managed to fight valiantly for two more minutes, but referee David Thomspon ultimately stopped the match due to the "glazed-over look" in the hometown hero's eyes. Indeed, one of the most exciting matches of the decade had been capped off by one of the most successful angles of all-time. Not only did Flair retain, but more importantly, World Class became the most successful territory on the planet for the next two years, by way of the hottest feud of the decade: The Von Erichs vs. The Freebirds.
Also Recommended: Ric Flair vs. Kerry Von Erich, May 17, 1984
Lioness Asuka vs. Jaguar Yokota
3WA World Title
August 22, 1985, All Japan Womens; Tokyo
For the uninitiated, may this timeless classic be the pristine gateway that guides you into the wondrous world of "Joshi Puroresu" (female Japanese wrestling). Asuka comprised one half of the famed "Crush Girls" tag team (with Chigusa Nagoya) that was a cultural phenomenon among teenage girls in Japan in the mid-'80s; at its height, it put the WWF's contemporaneous "Rock 'n Wrestling Connection" to shame by drawing consistent ratings of 10.0-15.0, topping out at a mind-boggling 40.0+ for a network special. Yokota was one of the tandem's two main rivals, and she was also every bit the extraordinary worker as they were (she may well have been the greatest female worker of the decade).
The lightning-quick nature of the bout was reflection of each woman's frenetic style. After they nimble exchanged some matwork, Asuka applied a pair of suplexes, one of which sent Yokota bumping to the floor. The Lioness then attempted a plancha that missed its target, and she crashed to the concrete in an excruciating heep. That spot notwithstanding, the two ladies definitely sustained more damage to their necks and heads than any other body parts. The heel Yokota executed a running, jumping Tombstone (K-Driller), and when she attempted a superplex, Asuka turned it into a top-rope gordbuster -- sending her antagonist crashing head-first to the mat! Asuka attempted to follow up with a frog splash, but Yokota blocked it and won the match with a move that punishes the neck, of course: the backdrop suplex.
Although exceptionally brief, no match (female or male) has packed more by way of advanced, flawless, and physically-destructive spots more effectively into its (concise) timeframe.
Also Recommended: Lioness Asuka vs. Chigusa Nagoya -- February 26, 1987
Genichiro Tenryu & Jumbo Tsuruta vs. Riki Choshu & Yoshiaki Yatsu
International Tag Titles
January 28, 1986; All Japan; Tokyo
All Japan was basking in the glow of one of the most fruitful boom periods in company history at the time of this Tag Team Titles match. Two years prior, Choshu had just led a contingent of superstars from New Japan (which included Yatsu) in desserting New Japan's Antonio Inoki, whose pay scale they considered inequitable. Subsequently, Choshu emerged as the top drawing card in the country, and Tenryu and Tsuruta -- as two of All Japan's three most renowned and enduring stars -- were not far behind. Yasuda, for his part, was a promising young wrestler with a strong amateur background, which automatically made him a marketable commodity. Though he had yet to prove himself at a level commensurate with the three mega-stars with whom he shared the ring in this match, but that minor notoriety problem was nothing that a one-man show in a five-star match couldn't take care of.
Choshu and Yatsu failed to win the match, but they accomplished much more in participating in the best match of their respective careers. The two men played the unfamilar role of underdogs as Tsuruta and Tenryu abused Choshu's taped-up, broken ribs with a cruel collection of elbows, knees, and abdominal stretches. Yatsu was left virtually to fend for himself and, in doing so, he had before exhibited such proficiency of workrate. He withstood all of his opponents' rugged offense, even kicking out of a pair of crushing Tsuruta lariats. Ultimately, the two veterans overwhelmed their hapless opponent, who was without the benefit of Choshu's injured help for most of the bout. Nevertheless, in withstanding 24 exciting minutes of offense from two of the stiffest workers in the business and mixing in a litany of his own revolutionary moves that actually made his opponents' look bland by comparison, Yatsu had arrived as a true superstar.
Unfortunately for All Japan, their latest, hottest act did not last long atop the company, and he was almost completely out of the business five years later. His performance declined in 1987 and 1988 which, coupled with his futile efforts to place in the 1988 Olympic Games, caused his stock to drop appreciably. However, 1986 was his year, and this was his greatest performance.
Also Recommended: Genichiro Tenryu & Jumbo Tsuruta vs. Riki Choshu & Yoshiaki Yatsu, February 5, 1986
Akira Maeda vs. Tatsumi Fujinami
June 12, 1986; New Japan; Osaka
Not only was this one of the best matches of the '80s, but it was also the most successful instance of two wrestlers applying the shoot style in the pro wrestling arena. The legitimately hot-headed Maeda (who has roughed up Andre the Giant, Tiger Mask, Riki Choshu, Keiji Muto, and several others in real fights) was perhaps the hottest up-and-coming commodity in Japan at the time and, as the storyline went, represented a new breed of "invading" (UWF) shootfighters who despised the "phony" New Japan wrestler. For his part, Fujinami was one of the best workers in the world and, as NJ's second leading babyface, embodied all that Maeda and company disdained.
Fujinami did a magnificent job of adapting to the shoot style, which downplayed flashiness and was heavy on striking, mat work, and kneebar and armbar submissions. The initial stages witnessed both men exchange elaborate submissions, and the defending champion even stole several pages out of Maeda's book by using several vintage shoot-style submissions of his own. However, Maeda seemed always to emerge from the exchanges of holds in slightly better shape, and the drama was building steadily, with Fujinami as the homefield underdog.
At approximately the twenty-minute mark of what was to be a half-hour match, Fujinami was slouched over in the corner, and Maeda went airborne with a roundhouse kick to the face. Unfortunately, he misfired, catching his opponent with a hideous potato shot that gave Tatsumi a serious concussion. As blood came spewing out of Fujinami's face, the two men quickly decided to abort mission and go to a double-countout. Fujinami struggled to his feet and even managed to participate in a dueling side kick spot that gave both men an excuse to lie down for the ten count. Fujinami was supposed to win the match, but by participating in one of the most dramatic and instrumental matches of the '80s, his reputation came out ahead nonetheless. Had the final ten minutes of the match gone as planned, one can only wonder how exceptional it would have been.
Also Recommended: Akira Maeda vs. Don Nakaya Neilsen -- October 9, 1986
Randy Savage vs. Ricky Steamboat
Intercontinental Title match
April 7, 1987; WWF WrestleMania III; Pontiac, Michigan
Within the fledgling insider wrestling media, one of the most popular sayings of 1987 was that "Hulk-Andre was what sold the show; Steamboat-Savage was what stole the show." Beforehand, the "93,173" fans who converged on the Silverdome in Pontiac, MI, hardly had it in mind that Randy Savage and Ricky Steamboat would provide the greatest return on their entertainment investment for that evening. "The Macho Man" vs. "The Dragon" certainly was a match that kindled widespread WWF fan interest fifteen years ago, but it existed ostensibly to buttress the mid-card underneath Hogan vs. Andre and -- to a lesser extent -- Roddy Piper vs. Adrian Adonis. By the time the thrilling Intercontinental Title classic reached its rousing conclusion, however, those other two matches had become nothing but the cream cheese on this particular card's bagel, and the new generation of WWF fans had just been treated to their first authentic workrate bonanza.
The massive crowd was electric from the first, due in large part to the storyline that Savage had "crushed" Steamboat's larynx with a ring bell, along with the "X" factor of the Savage-Miss Elizabeth-George "The Animal" Steele love triangle playing out at ringside. Savage attempted to smite Steamboat's suffering neck throughout, including by draping "The Dragon" on the top rope and dropping a flying elbow onto the challenger's ailing jugular area. Steamboat weathered the assault and delivered a series of chops, before connecting on a crossbody block for the first of sixteen two counts between the two men. Once again, Savage brought the action to the floor, throwing Steamboat across the timekeeper's table and into the crowd, before delivering the a double ax-handle from the top to the floor and bringing him back in the hard-war with a snap mare from the top rope. Steamboat ultimately reversed the momentum with a backdrop over the top rope, then notched seven more two count with a flying chop, a sunset flip, an inside cradle, a double-leg takeover, a small package, and two roll-ups, respectively. After an irish whip reversal, referee Earl Hebner took a bump and Savage clotheslined the challenger. Savage dropped the big elbow and, with the referee out of commission, attempted to drop the ring bell onto Steamboat from the top rope. However, Steele pushed the agressor from the perch, allowing Steamboat to cradle the distracted Savage for the pin, after slightly more than seventeen minutes. Some 1980s matches were better aesthetically, but the few that were couldn't match up to the magnitude of this, the WWF's paramount televised pure wrestling bout of the decade.
Years later, Steamboat related a story of his and Savage's attending the company's post-WrestleMania party the next night and being swarmed by fans congratulating them on the splendor of their previous night's work. Meanwhile, Hulk and Andre may have been chiefly responsible for the card's shattering all existing business records, but the two main eventers garnered comparatively little attention. As a microcosm, that episode aptly captures the legendary quality of the bout more than anything else.
Ric Flair vs. Ricky Steamboat
Two-Out-of-Three Falls NWA World Title
April 2, 1989; NWA "Clash of the Champions"; Nashville, Tennessee
The pinnacle of perhaps the greatest series of matches in the history of wrestling. Steamboat, the perennial noble babyface whose wife and young son often accompanied him to the ring, made the perfect foil for Flair -- the dirtiest player in the game, the prodigal son who talked big and backed it up with his ten pounds of gold. And while the stark contrast between their personalities played an central role in fashioning their rivalry, they will forever be inextricably linked in history for one reason: The matches. Textbook studies in build, pacing, match storytelling, execution, intensity, drama, and maximizing the long-range impact of even commonplace moves.
This most seminal of bouts took place at the seventh Clash of the Champions special on TBS. In the opening minutes, the two maestros made a simple headlock more entertaining than most modern exchanges of breathtaking high spots, in the process working a fall that could rightfully make a list of this type on its own merits. But there were still two falls to go, and, of course, the distinguishing characteristics of the feud were on display throughout: The countless swings in momentum, the vein-popping knife edge chops (Chris Benoit's look comparatively feeble), the deluge of two-counts and narrow escapes -- all of which built perfectly to the bout's famous climax. In the third, most fast-paced fall, with the match tied one-one, each man swapped still more furious chops -- exhausted and teetering though they were. Flair, of course, tried to cheat his way to victory, connecting with a low blow to gain a momentary advantage. However, the always-resiliant Steamboat recovered in time to thwart a Flair crossbody attempt by thrusting him from the top rope, then clinching in a double chicken-wing -- the same move that made the "Nature Boy" submit in the second fall. In one last moment of desperate exertion, the cagey Flair fell backward in an effort to lock Steamboat in a pinning predicament -- only to get caught with his own shoulders pinned to the mat. Struggling mightily after fifty-five minutes of intense action, Steamboat managed to keep Flair's shoulders down for three. It was pandemonium as "The Dragon" celebrated yet another triumph, drenched in sweat, the picture of fatigued bliss.
He should have known better -- Flair always came out on top when all was said and done. Upon further review, the referee determined that the "Nature Boy's" foot was in the ropes, before ruling the match a draw and, ergo, ensuring another classic rematch at the next PPV, "WrestleWar '89." The inconclusive finish notwithstading, the two men had once again demonstrated how peerless they truly were: They could take a crowd from a state of rapt attentiveness to one of uninhibited delirium by the time any given one of their matches reached its apex. For highly-evolved wrestling artistry at its most fully realized, the feud -- and this match in particular -- may never be topped.
Also Recommended: Ric Flair vs. Ricky Steamboat, NWA "Chi-Town Rumble '89"; Ric Flair vs. Ricky Steamboat, NWA "Wrestlewar '89"
Ric Flair v. Terry Funk
NWA World Title "I Quit" Retirement Match
November 15, 1989; "NWA New York Knock-Out;" Troy, NY
The best brawl of the 1980s also marked a very rare instance of an opponent actually stealing the show in a match against the "Nature Boy." The then-45-year-old Funk already enjoyed a reputation as one of the best workers in the history of the business, but he had been inactive on U.S. shores for most of the decade. On the night of this NWA PPV in "WWF country," however, the Funker was bent on establishing himself as one of the leading in-ring impresarios of a new generation -- one that, six months earlier, appeared to have all but left him behind.
Few wrestlers have ever been able to sell like primo Funk, and his willingness and ability to make Flair seem so very potent must have been a breath of fresh air for the "Nature Boy," who had spent 1984-1988 almost exclusively doing the same -- usually at his own expense. To wit: Funk bumped over the top rope for a Flair chop; slid across a table, hitting his head on a chair as he hit the floor; had a virtual paroxysm as he exhibited the agony of the figure-four leglock; and, on the whole, spent the entirety of the 18:34 fray doing what is known in modern wrestling parlance as "showing ass." Funk also spent ample time on the offensive, chiefly by working over Flair's "injured" kneck with neckbreakers and piledrivers, both in the ring and on the floor. Flair refused to quit and, once back inside, caused the crowd (and Jim Ross, doing his characteristic superlative work) to erupt in a frenzy as he alternated between chopping Funk's chest and kicking him in the leg in rapid-fire succession. In between surgical chops, the defending champ continued to inflict bone-chilling punishment on the challenger's knee, before administering the figure-four. Two minutes later, Funk finally quit, effectively terminating his illustrious NWA wrestling career.
It was going to take an authentic five-star bout, featuring outstanding performances by both men, to explain Funk's quitting with his career on the line, and he was so convincing in conveying the throes of Flair's finisher that not a single observer questioned the outcome. The match represented the final classic thread in the garment of Flair's glorious 1989: the best single year of memorable in-ring performances in the history of wrestling. On the other hand, Funk had only been active in the NWA for six months that year, but his exemplary series of matches, interviews, and angles in that span made it one of the best of his career as well -- and one that made him a celebrated figure to a generation that had written him off long before.
Also Recommended: Flair vs. Funk -- July 23, 1989, NWA Great American Bash
Mitsuharu Misawa vs. Jumbo Tsuruta
June 8, 1990; All Japan; Tokyo
Perhaps the most important match of the decade for All Japan and promoter Giant Baba, this battle between Puroresu legends was the quintessential synthesis of Old Guard vs. New Guard storytelling. Having just lost his top star, Genichiro Tenryu, to rival Antonio Inoki and New Japan, Baba found himself in exigent circumstances; he was running a distant second in the promotional war against Inoki, and his top remaining star, Tsuruta, was aging rapidly. He realized that his promotion direly needed a changing of the guard, and on the afternoon of this Budokan Hall show, he resolved to make Mitsuharu Misawa, 27, his new top star.
Less than a year removed from his four-year formative stint as "Tiger Mask II," Misawa had been one of the best workers in Japan for some time, and the fans were, by now, clamoring for Baba to elevate him to his rightful perch atop the company pecking order. And, if nothing else, the applause this Budokan Hall crowd showered upon him from the outset renoved any existing doubts regarding how prevalent their support was for him. The impudent Misawa conveyed his sense of determination by slapping his older opponent and generally treating him with a disprespect befitting a brazen youth attempting to establish his notoriety. The great Tsuruta, 39, reacted with typical grumpiness and attempted to control the pace of the match with his deliberate, ultra-stiff ground attack. Nobody executed a lariat with more authority than Tsuruta, and that, coupled with his full range of knee-lifts and suplexes, was so convincing that, at many points, the crowd seemed certain the end was near for their great, young hope. However, Misawa continually buddled Jumbo with his diving, flipping, dropkicking repetoire, and once he unleashed his own exacting ground offense, he was on the verge of a breakthrough.
In the end, one of the match's main threads of story proved pivotal: Misawa was younger, faster, and more dexterous, and for almost every move Tsuruta attempted, he somehow managed to execute a counter. After nearly 25 minutes of intense action, Tsuruta gave Misawa a cross-body block and notched a 2.9 count, before Mitsuharu reversed it into the pinfall. The crowd exploded with an emotion rarely ever seen in pro wrestling, and All Japan's fans were hankering so fervidly for a Misawa victory that many members of the audience were crying after the dramatic conclusion. Even the perpetually-unflappable Misawa at first choked back tears as he celebrated with fellow young guns Kenta Kobashi, Toshiaki Kawada, and Akira Taue, before momentarily composing himself and then giving way to a fleeting toothy grin. It may not have been a Triple Crown Title match, but it might as well have been: Misawa's emergence as the top star in the company remains legendary.
Also recommended: Jumbo Tsuruta vs. Mitsuharu Misawa, September, 1, 1990
Keiji Mutoh vs. Masahiro Chono
G1 Climax Tournament Final
August 11, 1991; New Japan; Tokyo
For New Japan and legendary booker Riki Choshu, the 1991 version of its annual heavyweight G1 Climax tournament was an opportunity to consummate a year-long transition period. The 1990s were in full swing, and it was time for a trio of new mega-stars -- Masa Chono, Masa Chono, and Shin'ya Hashimoto -- to usher in a new era by displacing the aging breed of '80s main eventers -- represented by Tatsumi Fujinami and Choshu himself. So, after a semifinals that saw Mutoh conquer Hashimoto (who had, in turn, ousted Choshu in the opening round) and Chono oust Fujinami, the sell-out crowd at Tokyo's Sumo Hall was abuzz. This was to be a historic encounter between the two wrestlers who would carry the promotion to dizzying new heights of prosperity.
The two finalists fed off the appetent crowd by combining for the best match of their respective careers, as well as one that built slowly over a half-hour stretch. Chono was the more charismatic of the two, while Mutoh was the better worker, but each one incorporated a superb array of drama-building moves and sequences. After an impressive demonstration of sound mat work, with an elbowdrop and backdrop suplex thrown in for good measure, Chono revved up a crowd that was already agog by taking to the air with a tope suicida and a plancha -- moves so uncharacteristic for him that the crowd came unglued. Chono continued with a series of piledriver variations, but Mutoh returned the favor and went for a moonsault. The high risk misfired in the worst way possible, as Chono moved out of harm's way and proceeded to lock on his finisher: the STF. The crowd came unraveled, chanting wildly for Mutoh as he struggled to reach the ropes, finally doing so after nearly two minutes in the agonizing hold. Minutes later, Mutoh reversed Chono's suplex attempt into a snap suplex, then went for a missile dropkick: Chono attempted to perform a mid-air dropkick in response, but Mutoh somehow managed to adjust in mid-air and avoid the collision. After a German suplex, he connected with the missile dropkick and, following two more momentum reversals, attempted another moonsault. Much to his detriment, his ribs found Chono's knees on the way down, and Chono executed a neckbreaker powerbomb for the win at around the 30 minute mark.
New Japan was about to embark on its most profitable run ever, as its series of dome shows in the mid-'90s set several impressive attendance and revenue records (including over $8 million in combined ticket and merchandise revenue on several occasions). All of that astounding success traces itself, in part, to this, the greatest New Japan heavyweight match of all-time, and the bout that marked the arrival of Chono and Mutoh as the promotion's unquestioned kingpins.
Also Recommended: Keiji Mutoh vs. Masahiro Chono, January, 4 1993
Jushin "Thunder" Liger vs. El Samurai
Top of the Super Juniors Tournament Final
April 30, 1992; New Japan; Tokyo
Jushin Liger had already firmly ensconsed himself at the top of the junior heavyweight workrate totem poll at least three years before this legendary tournament final match. Conversely, El Samurai was a highly-regarded up-and-coming high flier who had already attained status as one of the best workers in the company, but he was not yet nearly at Liger's lofty level. The New Japan booking troupe trusted that, by booking him Samuari to reach the tournament finals and wrestling a great match against the renowned Liger, Samurai would become the latest break-out junior circuit star. However, even they never could have forecast that, ten years later, the bout would remain entrenched as one of the best junior matches in wrestling history.
The two men largely eschewed traditional early-match mat work and instead opted to brawl with reckless abandon. Samurai even attacked Liger with a glass bottle and piledrove him on the concrete, ala Dynamite Kid in the aforementioned August 23, 1983, Tiger Mask match. Liger became fed up with his opponent's dirty tactics and retaliated by monomaniacally palm thrusting and capo kicking Samurai into oblivion. Samurai responded with an even more furious succession of cuffs in the corner, before Liger broke out some of the best aerial offense of his career, complete with a rolling senton bomb from the top rope to the floor (which, for the time, was absolutely mind-blowing) and a moonsault from the top rope to the floor, onto the sprawled Samurai. In the end, Samurai attempted a top-rope hurrancanrana, but Liger reversed it into a power bomb, before following up with a top-rope 'rana of his own for the win.
After twenty minutes of the best singles match of either man's career (which is a bold statement, particularly in Liger's case), New Japan had yet another junior heavyweight legend in its charge. Although Liger was clearly the better performer, Samurai became an instant star, and he even dethroned Jushin "Thunder" to win the first of two IWGP Junior Heavyweight titles in a rematch two months later.
Also Recommended: Jushin Liger vs. Naoki Sano, January 31, 1990
Razor Ramon vs. Shawn Michaels
Intercontinental Title Unification Ladder Match
March 20, 1994; WWF WrestleMania X; New York
In 1994, the WWF was stagnating, both artistically and financially. In addition to losing approximately $4 million that year, the company was still struggling to establish its post-Hogan, steroid-trial-era creative identity, and the results were often disconcerting.
Leave it to Shawn Michaels to thrive in the middle of the turbulence. Michaels not only made himself a legend through his incomparable performance in this match, but he created a legitimate star out of his buddy Scott Hall, who hitherto had been vacillating between the upper mid-card and the lowest rung of the upper-card. Not that Razor didn't hold his own: "The Bad Guy" received a veritable thrashing from the ladder-weilding Michaels and took the second highest quotient of spine-crunching bumps of anyone on the card. Michaels was the one who needed to have spinal surgery four years later, though, and no better example exists of wherefore he did than this masochistic performance. Not only did he take numerous punishing bumps from atop the ladder, but he dropped elbows and splashes from the perch, as well -- and that was during his warm-up phase. By the time Ramon won the match by shoving over the ladder, causing Michaels to land crotch-first on the top rope and remain entangled there, the "Heartbreak Kid" had withstood so much punishment that even Mick Foley had to be in a state of awe while watching.
Over five years later, the Hardy Boys and Edge & Christian emerged and outstripped Michaels' spectacular stunts, but they couldn't touch the drama of this, arguably the greatest match in the history of the WWF.
Also Recommended: Shawn Michaels vs. Razor Ramon, WWF "Summer Slam '95"
"Wild Pegasus" Chris Benoit vs. The Great Sasuke
Super J Cup Junior Heavyweight Tournament Final
April 4, 1994; New Japan; Tokyo
The culmination of one of the most incredible nights of pure wrestling action in history, this genre-defining bout renovated the Dynamite Kid-Tiger Mask formula into 20:10 of some of the greatest junior heavyweight wrestling ever seen on this planet. Every kick, chop, headbut, suplex, powerbomb, backflip, moonsault, twist, turn, and bump was delivered with intense precision, drew mind-boggling crowd heat, and occured within a perfect drama-building context. Sasuke played the part of an even-more-spectacular Satoru Sayama, even employing such Sayama as the moonsault press and the hand-spring, twisting plancha . Benoit transcended even his idol, the Kid, suplexing his opponent all over the ring and, ultimately, finishing him with a riveting top-rope gutwrench suplex.
What is most remarkable about the match's exceptional quality is that it was the final round of the most grueling annual tournament in wrestling, so both men had already wrestled two arduous matches earlier in the night. In particular, Sasuke's quarterfinal and semifinal bouts -- against El Samurai and Jushin Liger, respectively -- were, in their own right, both brutal Match of the Year candidates that firmly established the death-defying junior heavyweight as a legendary figure in Puroresu. Benoit, meanwhile, won the bout and an accompanying assortment of trophies, belts, and other goodies that commemorated his tournament victory. In his post-match, made-for-home-video interview, the man now known in the WWF as the "Canadian Crippler" stated, "This is the greatest honor of my career." On the contrary, Chris: The honor (of viewing your masterful performance) was all ours.
Also Recommended: "Wild Pegasus" Chris Benoit vs. El Samurai -- 1993 "Top of Super Juniors"
Mitsuharu Misawa vs. Toshiaki Kawada
Triple Crown Title
June 3, 1994; All Japan Pro Wrestling; Tokyo
Two of the most dominant stars in the history of wrestling, Misawa and Kawada have wrestled many classic matches in the course of their illustrious feud. This match, notable for its layers of psychological nuance, was the pinnacle.
Both men debuted at roughly the same time (Kawada in 1982, Misawa in 1984), with each rising through All Japan's ranks at a corresponding rate. They even briefly formed a tag team, only to split up when Misawa captured the Triple Crown title in 1990. Kawada had since challenged for Misawa's championship numerous time, but he invariably lost each one of those encounters. Steadily, his jealousy and frustration mounted, and the deep-seeded feelings came to a head in this Triple Crown bout, before a rabid pro-Kawada crowd at Budokan Hall.
The match showcased a superior level of multi-dimensional story-telling from the outset: Initially, the former partners thwarted each other's attempts to connect with high-impact offense because they knew each other so well. However, Kawada's frustration, resulting from years of failure, soon manifested itself, as he opted to forego wrestling a respectful scientific match in favor of embarrassing his foe by kicking the champion in the face as he lay on the mat and standing on his head instead of holding onto a half-Boston Crab. The provoked Misawa responded in kind, systematically and forcefully working over Kawada's knee, which Misawa and Kenta Kobashi had "injured" in a tag team match several months earlier. The resolute Kawada fought back with an energetic, fierce flurry of offense, which sent the crowd into a frenzy. Misawa narrowly withstood the beating, and once Kawada had expended most of the energy remaining in his ravaged body, the champion capitalized by unleashing his own vast array of offensive moves. However, the determined challenger refused to quit: Misawa scored with several devastating maneuvers that had earned him victories in numerous previous high-profile bouts, and each time, Kawada narrowly kicked out of the ensuing pin attempt. At the match's climax, with the crowd clamorously chanting his name, the exhausted, frantic Kawada fired off one last-gasp series of kicks. Misawa, bloody and battered in his own right, withstood the blows and at long last finished off his foe with the Tiger Driver '91, a move he hadn't used in three years, and one that only underscored the monumental importance of winning on this night. Fans of crowd heat, brutality (both mens' blood was hardway), and -- above all else -- psychology should look no further.
Also Recommended: Mitsuharu Misawa vs. Kenta Kobashi, February, 1997
American Love Machine" Art Barr & Eddie Guerrero ("Los Gringos Locos") vs. El Hijo del Santo & Octagon
Double Hair vs. Double Masks
November 6, 1994; AAA "When World Collide" Pay-Per-View; Los Angeles
At the time of this legendary match, hardcore wrestling fans and critics were absolutely certain that one member of the legendary Los Gringos Locos tandem would inevitably enjoy a long, prosperous career as one of the greatest heel performers in the history of both Mexican and U.S. wrestling. And it wasn't Eddie Guerrero. "American Love Machine" Art Barr, the son of long-time Oregon promoter Sandy Barr and 1990 WCW prelim wrestler "The Juicer," was a proverbial five-tool wrestler whose blend of talent and charisma likely equalled even that of Shawn Michaels at the time. His routine as an insufferable, anti-Mexican jerk packed the Hispanic AAA fans in by the thousands and, invariably, roused their nationalistic passions to a riotous degree. It seemed only a matter of time before promoters in the U.S. took notice of him and pushed him to the moon, and in the wake of this five-star classic, his phone started ringing off the hook.
Aside from the hilarious heel antics of Barr and Guerrero (whose performance was also magnificent), the match was three falls of non-stop action. The first fall saw the heel dominate, winning with a super-frankensteiner over Santo, while Barr put down Octagon with the Frogsplash (Lucha tag matches are contested under elimination rules, more or less). In the second fall, Los Locos eventually disposed of Santo, before Octagon made a miraculous one-on-two rally and pinned Guerrero and Barr within the space of 30 seconds. The third fall was the most dramatic of all, with Santo fighting for the mask he and his father (the most famous luchadore ever) had sported for almost half a century. Barr successfully put Octagon out of commission with a Tombstone Piledriver (a move Mexican fans consider crippling, thus, it's banned) behind the ref's back, before Love Machine arch-rival Blue Panther interfered by squashing Barr with a piledriver of his own. Guerrero and Santo were left mano-y-mano, with Santo enduring all of Eddy's brutal Puroresu-style stiff offense. The second-generation superstar, with his family honor and legacy at stake, ultimately reversed a suplex attempt into a roll-up and a thrilling 1-2-3.
All four men performed almost flawlessly, but the 28-year-old Barr stole the show -- no small statement given the caliber of his co-performers. His heel charisma and energy were so incredible that even the ever-temperate Mike Tenay, who (excellently) handled the English commentary with Chris Cruise, seemed exasperated by his tactics. Unfortunately, one is left only to wonder what might have been. In a twist of cruel irony, not only was this Barr's most famous match, but it was also his last: He died in his sleep 17 days later, with those new offers from U.S. and Japanese promoters only starting to pile up.
Also Recommended: Los Gringos Locos & Konnan vs. El Hijo del Santo, Octagon, & Blue Panther, April, 1994
Mitsuharu Misawa & Kenta Kobashi vs. Toshiaki Kawada & Akira Taue
Real World League Tag Titles
June 9, 1995; All Japan; Tokyo
This 43-minute magnum opus saw the historic Misawa-Kawada rivalry reach new epic heights. Misawa entered the match in the midst of his third Triple Crown title reign, having just reclaimed the championship from Stan Hansen in May. Conversely, Kawada was still feeling the sting of having never beaten his bitter rival, as well as of recently having his own Triple Crown reign cut short by Hansen that March.
To further spice up the already-savory drama surrounding the bouth, Kobashi entered the match with his knee heavily taped and, not surprisingly, the challengers spent the majority of the bout ruthlessly assaulting the wounded limb with all manner of lethal kicks and submissions. As the story went, Kawada intended to impart revenge for his own knee injury, as described in the June 3 Misawa-Kawada bouth. Kobashi did a superlative job of selling the injury, and when he finally hit his signature moonsault and made a tag to Misawa nearly forty minutes into the match, the crowd heat reached an ear-shattering decibal level. Unfortunately for Misawa, he was by then in a hapless state: With his ailing partner virtually useless, the immutable challengers eventually overwhelmed him. Kobashi could do little more than selflessly lay on top of Misawa in a futile effort to rescue his partner from Kawada's and Taue's unmerciful attack. This spectacle continued for several minutes, and many times -- just as it looked like Kawada would finally pin the near-impregnable Misawa -- Kobashi would make a gallant save.
Finally, with the Budokan Hall crowd having reached a feverish pitch, Taue took out Kobashi with an especially forceful Nodowa Otoshi, leaving an opening for Kawada to demolish Misawa with his second High Angle Powerbomb of the match. Just before Kobashi could make one more save, Kawada covered his helpless rival and registered the 1-2-3. After half a decade of frustration, Kawada had finally pinned Misawa. And he did it -- fittingly enough -- after what was likely the most dramatic match in wrestling history.
Also Recommended: Misawa & Kobashi vs Kawada & Taue, October 15, 1995
Steve Austin vs. Bret Hart
Submission Match
March 24, 1997; WWF "WrestleMania XIII"; Chicago
A five-star, half-hour, gross and glorious brawl that, more than any other match, defined the "WWF Attitude" era, set Austin on fire as a babyface, and marked the beginning of the end for Hart in the WWF. The 39-year-old Bret was still near his prime as a worker and performed magnificently. This was arguably his last truly great singles match in the WWF, and it was only fitting that the "Hitman," the consummate in-ring dramatist, helped tell a story emotionally gripping enough to make most Hollywood scriptwriters envious. However, if this were an action-adventure motion picture, Austin's performance was positively Grammy-worthy. "Stone Cold" was at his pre-neck-condition athletic peak and had so completely grown into his character that his every movement glistened with a dynamic, bad-ass gusto that his physical limitations have prevented him from replicating ever since (as great as he still is).
At the outset, the two men brawled up into the stands, before making their way back to the ring and thrashing each other some more around the ringside area. Back in, Hart seized a momentary advantage, before Austin walloped Hart over the back with a chair, doing so with a piquancy such that much of the Rosemont Horizon crowd turned in his favor right then and there. Hart reversed the tide and bloodied the Texas Rattlesnake on the rail, before unleashing an feral assault on his opponent's face and legs. Of course Austin fought back, performing his staple rapid-fire series of kicks to Bret's face in the corner with more enthusiasm and swagger than he's ever displayed in any match -- ever. When Hart finally locked him in the sharpshooter, his face a proverbial crimson mask, his energetic (but ultimately futile) attempt to escape was unparalleled in its intensity, and he likely won over more fans during those two minutes than many WWF wrestlers do in an entire career.
Long before guest referee Ken Shamrock stopped the match after Austin "passed out," Stone Cold had already captured the crowd's imagination with his revolutionary brand of defiant charisma. The fact that he did so during a match that featured such masterful storytelling made the turn all the more triumphant. The wrestling world hasn't been the same ever since.
Also Recommended: Bret Hart vs. Steve Austin, WWF Survivor Series '96"
Rey Mysterio, Jr. vs. Eddie Guerrero
Mask vs. Cruiserweight Title
October 26, 1997; WCW "Halloween Havoc '97"; Las Vegas
WCW showcased so many spectacular Cruiserweight matches between 1996 and 1998 that, eventually, few of them stood out above one another -- between Nitros, Thunders, and pay-per-views, the four-star matches abounded and almost became commonplace. Thus, that this one match stood affirmatively above them all illustrates just what a modern masterpiece it really was. Intricate, innovative sequences, all executed with flawless fluidity and psychology, building to an electrifying finish.
At 13:51, it may be the shortest AW Essential, but it still packed as powerful a punch as any. In the most incredible spot of them all, with Guerrero stationed on the outside of the ring, Mysterio executed a running flip dive over the top rope, rotated his body, and turned it into a hurracanrana. A whole host of dives, dropkicks, and other stiff and acrobatic moves followed, with Guerrero playing the bullying antagonist to perfection. After Eddie executed what may well be the single greatest powerbomb in the history of the wrestling industry, he scaled the ropes and missed his frog splash attempt. Mysterio, the challenger, responded by attempting his own finishing move -- the hurracanrana -- only to see Guerrero turn it into a backbreaker. The crowd was abuzz as the champion set up for the top-rope powerbomb (Splash Mountain), and they erupted in cheers as Rey reversed it into an awe-inspiring 'rana and scored the pin.
Any match that Eddie Guerrero himself ranks as the greatest of his career is a must-see of the highest caliber, and Mysterio would no doubt express similar sentiments.
Also Recommended: Rey Mysterio Jr. vs. Eddie Guerrero, "World War III '97"
The Rock vs. Steve Austin
WWF World Championship
April 1, 2001; WWF "WrestleMania X-7"; Houston, TX
It's not too often that the top two drawing cards of the most profitable generation in U.S. wrestling history engage in a classic battle on the biggest "sports-entertainment" event of the year. Well, actually, it's happened twice, to be exact, but the second match was the better of the two, and it was also the most memorable. At what was not surprisingly the most profitable extravaganza in the history of wrestling, 67,925 fans at the Astrodome reacted rabidly as The Rock and Austin put on a terrific half-hour, no-disqualification match that was absolutely chock-full of tasty twists and turns.
Over the course of the half-hour match, both men bladed, exchanged each other's signature moves numerous times, and cleverly staged several false finishes that made reference to famous past matches -- all of which they did for maximum emotional impact. Even Vince McMahon's interference at the end of the bout couldn't spoil the fun, though it did come awfully close: Vince was supposed to be a strong enough heel to turn the crowd against Austin, but the massive Houston throng instead cheered wildly for everything their fellow Texan did. Meanwhile, the Rock received a hearty round of boos every time he mounted any sort of offense. Even after Stone Cold worked the match in the psychological heel role, needed the hated McMahon to break up the Rock's post-People's Elbow pin attempt, held the Rock while Vince walloped the defending champ with a chair, failed to hold Rocky down for a three-count after a stunner, clobbered his opponent with a chair for another false-finish in an extremely heel-like move, and then finally earned the pin after psychotically "snapping" and laying waste to the "People's Champ" with a succession of cruel chair shots to the stomach and back, the stubborn crowd STILL gave the home-state hero one of the biggest pops in the history of wrestling when he finally regained the title.
Although the disastrous Austin heel turn will always characterize it, the match itself marked the financial high-point of the mind-bogglingly successful WWF Attitude.
Also Recommended: The Rock vs. Steve Austin; WrestleMania XV
Keiji Mutoh vs. Genichiro Tenryu
Triple Crown Title
June 8, 2001; New Japan/All Japan; Tokyo
It was the height of the (fairly disappointing) New Japan vs. All Japan storyline that carried both companies through 2001, and 39-year-old Keiji Mutoh was somewhat of an afterthought. He had been one of New Japan's top two stars and best performers for more than ten years, but his stock had dropped appreciably in the past few years, thanks to his declining performance rate and general staleness. He was showing signs of moving down the card, and surely that trend would continue during the latter part of 2001. His opponent in this Budokan Hall match, Genichiro Tenryu, was one of the best workers on the planet in the 1980s, but he was on the wrong side of 52-years-old at this point, so his physical attrition was even more pronounced. Despite being a great performer for his age, he had already been phased down the card in New Japan several years before, and he only held the Triple Crown Title because of All Japan's post-Pro Wresting NOAH talent dearth. This match figured to include a wealth of good nostalgia but a poverty of great wrestling, with the winner's championship reign sure to end at the next month's Budokan Hall show.
Instead, the exceptional quality of the match sent shockwaves undulating throughout the Japanese wrestling world, and the winner still held the title as of February, 2002. From the outset, the men set the shockingly frenetic pace of the match, with Mutoh reversing a Dragon Screw attempt by Tenryu into the Shining Wizard, his newest finishing maneuver. Mutoh then attempted a moonsault less than two minutes into the bout. The match only built from there, with the elderly Tenryu even performing an incredible tope suicida and the erstwhile Great Muta responding by executing a Dragon Screw Suplex from the apron to the floor. Mutoh proceeded to maul Tenryu's knee with dropkicks and a Dragon Suplex-into-a-figure-four spot (many observers have labeled him the "Japanese Ric Flair" -- only with better moves), but his aging foe responded with his own Dragon Suplex-into-a-figure-four-spot and followed up with a staggering Spider Suplex and a diving elbow for a 2.9 count. Mutoh answered with another Shining Wizard, but it didn't phase Tenryu, who connected with a Northern Lights Power Bomb and, moments later, officially became the oldest (and, perhaps, the heaviest) man ever to execture a top-rope hurracanrana. Tenryu attempted yet another Northern Lights Bomb, but Mutoh reversed it into his third Shining Wizard of the match -- only netting him a 2.9 count. Mutoh still had one last-resort option remaining in his manifold bag of tricks: The moonsault. The crowd came unglued as the challenger pulled out this trusty, old favorite, finally scoring a pin on the resilient Tenryu, winning him the Triple Crown Title for the first time.
All Japan had planned all along for Mutoh to be a transitional champion, but, in the wake of this five-star match, the crowd reaction to his reign was so exceedingly strong that he held the belt until April, 2002, and has been the hub of the Japanese wrestling scene the past nine months. Incredibly, it was a classic match between two men who had combined to live nearly half a century that catalyzed the resurgence.
