We’re in Chicago this year. Michelle Williams, of Destiny’s Child fame, sings America the Beautiful. She looks thrilled to be here. Cue montage of patriotic shenanigans, followed by a montage of WrestleManias past. That’s the kind of montage I like. There are cool bits showing guys like Triple H and the Undertaker in the past compared to how they look now. Montage of…Chicago? Don’t push it with the montages. Montage of matches to come. AAARGH!
Are we going to start now? Promise? Well, if you insist. Tell me about it, JR! Lawler, Taz, and Cole are here too, of course.
We start off with a tag contest for the World Tag Championship. Carlito spits in the face of those who don’t want to be cool and is tagging with Chris Masters, “The Masterpiece,” possessor of the Master Lock.
Admission time: I don’t like Chris Masters. Not here, not in the present. I do not find him interesting. And his apparel is ugly. Big Show and Kane are tagging together and currently hold the belts. That is one formidable team. I am excited for this match just to see the two of them toss Carlito and Masters around. JR points out that this is the first time that this belt has been contested in a traditional two on two format at WrestleMania. I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks, JR!
As expected, Big Show just kind of steamrolls over Carlito and Masters. Kane follows suit. I never tire of watching Kane tossing people and hitting them. It is awesome. Masters gets the Master Lock in (heavens!), but Show breaks it up. After a choke slam to Carlito, Kane picks up the win for his team. The young guys didn’t come off as overly bright, but I can’t be bothered to care. Kane and Big Show head off to keep on kicking ass and taking names. As they should.
Carlito and Masters then have a tiff in the ring. Move on, boys. No one cares.
Coach is backstage to interview Shawn Michaels. HBK will be facing Mr. McMahon in a No Holds Barred match later on. He gives a very intense promo of what Mr. McMahon can expect later.
Money in the Bank! Hurrah! Matt Hardy, Shelton Benjamin (also the Intercontinental Champion), Finlay, Rob Van Dam, Bobby Lashley, and Ric Flair are participating. God only knows why Flair is here. I do not want to see this old man fall off a ladder. And Lashley…sigh. Still, with Matt, Shelton Benjamin, Finlay and RVD, there are bound to be some good bits in this match.
Yup. I thank God every day for RVD and Shelton Benjamin, just for matches like this. I can’t even explain what they are doing.
Oh my God, Matt Hardy just killed Ric Flair! Wait, no, he’s just hurt. Holy hell, he’s REALLY hurt, the ref just made the special “X” sign they do when real injuries occur. Well, thanks for coming out, Flair.
And…Flair is staggering back in. Don’t do it, Ric! He slugs Finlay and then takes a stab at climbing the ladder. Matt ruins things for him AGAIN, but Flair takes out him and Benjamin. Finlay makes quick work of him with his trusty shillelagh, though. Then Benjamin takes out Finlay, then Lashley takes out both of them (using a ladder to knock over the ladder. Clever, that.). Then RVD is awesome.
Matt climbs again. He and Finlay go down together. With the crowd chanting “ECW,” RVD has a go. Shelton Benjamin leaps in OUT OF NOWHERE! He and Matt slug it out before falling, and RVD wins. Hurray for him!
That…wasn’t the best match. Flair shouldn’t have been there and Lashley is boring. Everyone mostly took turns lying around while two men did something. Then there was the endless sequence of one person climbing only to be taken out and so on and so on. Thank heaven for Shelton Benjamin and RVD.
Josh Matthews is backstage, sporting a truly awful hair cut. He interviews Gene Okerlund, who is rudely interrupted by Randy Orton, who still hasn’t mastered delivering long stretches of dialogue. He is interrupted by Batista. Oh, joy. Orton and Batista face to face. How…interesting. And by interesting I mean boring. There is much glaring and clenching of jaws. Riveting!
Hall of Fame time! Bret Hart has been inducted, but isn’t here. This year’s class also includes Mean Gene, Sensational Sherri, Tony Atlas, Verne Gagne, William Perry (the Refrigerator), the Black Jacks, Eddie Guerrero (represented by his wife, Vickie, and nephew, Chavo). Yeah, this is where I start crying. All of the other new Hall of Famers come over and hug Vickie. Aww, Taz was totally crying too.
Back to fightin’. Chris Benoit is defending the United States Championship against JBL, the dastardly wrestling god. Benoit is still being announced from Atlanta, sigh. He is, of course, not just representing himself, but also Eddie, whom he inducted into the Hall of Fame. This is a pretty emotionally charged match, and it should be a good one. Both of these guys are very physical.
JBL is straight up evil, mockingly imitating Eddie’s signature gestures and moves. It’s up to Benoit to defend himself and his dead friend. As I predicted, this match gets very physical, very fast. There are flying fists, feet, and bodies from the get-go. Neither of these men is too flashy in style, but they still know how to put on a compelling match. Benoit also uses a couple of Eddie’s moves, in tribute, of course. I just love what a bastard JBL is. At one point he uses Jillian, his secretary/whatever, as a shield, at another time he latches on to the ref. And then he cheats to win. I really don’t think he could have done anything to make us hate him more.
Edge is taking on Mick Foley in a hardcore match. Mick has promised to show up in his former crazy, hardcore form. Edge is apprehensive, but determined. He is also accompanied by Lita, who famously betrayed Matt Hardy to be with him. I don’t want to delve into that whole nightmare, but I do want to point out how shitty the whole deal was for Lita.
After the fiasco came to light, Lita was labeled a whore and a whore she stayed, right to the end of her career. Matt got to play the victim and Edge worked the whole thing into his sleazy rock star persona. Neither of their careers were really affected by it. I mean, Matt was let go, but he came back. Lita could not be separated from the fact that she cheated on Matt Hardy. People were horrible to her, though you wouldn’t know it nowadays. Nope, now everyone only remembers that she was one of the greatest female wrestlers the WWE has ever seen. Make no mistake: no one was interested in Lita’s talent in the ring at this time. She was called every disgusting name one can apply to a woman, and it was wrong. Edge was a rock star, Matt was a victim, Lita was a whore. For shame, WWE and fans.
Back to the match. Edge, that jerk, is still announced as being from Toronto. I think he and Lita made an excellent bad-guy team, my other opinions notwithstanding. The crowd is excited to see Mick in action again, and he goes right to work on Edge, but Edge is more than equal to beating up on the loveable old guy. Edge goes for the spear, but what’s this? Foley has wrapped barbed wire around his body underneath his flannel! Oh yes, Foley is good.
Lita gets involved and the fight is taken outside the ring. Edge douses Foley in lighter fluid, of all things, leaving us to contemplate how badly this is going to turn out for poor Mick. It takes a long time for those actions to come to fruition, which I love. Never underestimate the value of keeping the audience in suspense. There is more bashing and painful use of barbed wire. I am not someone who enjoys watching wrestlers bleed, especially not two of my favorites. Hardcore matches generally just make me uncomfortable. The classic thumbtacks are broken out, with Edge landing on his back amongst them. Ouch. Mick wraps wire around Mr. Socko, resulting in bloody mandible claws for Edge and Lita. Gasp! A woman was made to bleed! Oh wait, I forgot, Lita is a whore, not a person, so there’s really no horrified outcry. Sigh.
And then the lighter fluid is back. Mick pours it all out on a table outside the ring, but it’s Lita who sets the table on fire and Edge spears Mick through the ropes and onto the table. The flames are extinguished almost immediately, but…oh, my. Edge wins. I…wow. Mick and Edge are both awash in blood. Edge is shaking and staggering, and I doubt that’s an act. Mick gets a Foley chant and a standing ovation. We love you so much, Mick. He gives absolutely everything in his matches.
Backstage, Booker T and Sharmell are freaking out because the Boogeyman is after them. Yes, you read that right. No, I don’t think this is the best use of Booker T’s talents. Yes, the Boogeyman was a silly idea. No, I’m not going to talk about this match. I don’t dig it, sucka.
The Women’s Championship is held by Trish, and she will be fighting newcomer Mickie James. In the kind of well developed and intricate storyline that the women can only dream about these days, Mickie came in as Trish’s fan. Trish’s biggest fan. She gradually became creepier and more obsessive, flipping out when Trish told her to simmer down. Mickie really goes all out with her psycho persona, which apparently involves impractical ring gear—a pink flared skirt with some sort of weird fur belt thing. Interestingly, though Trish is a good guy, she is still announced as being from Toronto. JR sings Trish’s praises. Hurray for Trish!
Mickie’s a really good wrestler, but I think she’s hampered by her ring gear. I really want to know who told her to wear this. So very unwise. She always seems occupied with making sure her all her bits are covered and I don’t blame her. Still, this is a good match. It’s a shame the crowd seems to favor nutjobs over blond Canadians. Chicago, seriously, what the hell? Stop booing Trish, you jerks!
Mickie picks up the win, after the kind of match I would kill for the women to have nowadays, near wardrobe malfunctions notwithstanding. That was good—emotional, interesting, and given the time it deserved. If only the stupid crowd had cooperated.
The McMahon family is backstage, Vince looking like an orange, muscled fossil.
Casket match featuring the Undertaker (who else?) and Mark Henry. Mark Henry seems like a lovely person, but he’s another one of those guys who is just…big. He’s not interesting, either on the mic or in the ring. Despite the fact that he is taking on the Phenom, I’m just not invested in this match. I think someone just realized that the Undertaker had nothing to do this year and tossed in this match. Chicago continues to care about the stupidest things. They start up a “Henry sucks,” chant. It’s sweet of you to care about this match, Chicago, but of all the people who could be said to “suck” tonight, you pick the guy with no personality? Mark Henry apparently forgets that there are no count-outs in a Casket Match when he covers Taker. You have to put him in the casket, Mark! Pay attention! Taker still gets in some cool moves, because he’s just awesome that way. He Tombstones Mark Henry, for heaven’s sake! And then he wins. Probably the least significant win in his undefeated streak, but whatever.
Prior to this WrestleMania, Mr. McMahon instituted a ritual involving his employees kissing his ass. Literally. Yeah, let’s move on. Shawn Michaels was the only man to stand up to him, resulting in Mr. McMahon taking revenge, including having Shane recreate the infamous screw-job involving Bret Hart. Always classy, Vince. Anyway, it’s all led up to this No Holds Barred match at WrestleMania. As I’ve said before, I prefer when a McMahon isn’t directly involved in a match. It seems so self-indulgent to me. It’s not like Vince can actually wrestle; this is just going to be another bloodbath.
JR is intensely vocal during this match, having been forced to join the Kiss My Ass club himself. He is more intensely wrathful than I have ever heard him, actually. I have to wonder if he didn’t use this opportunity handed to him by the storyline to vent years of frustration.
The Spirit Squad comes to Mr. McMahon’s aid. They ares so very ridiculous, I can't even...
The only thing saving this match is that Shawn Michaels knows how to work with what he’s given. This should be a serious storyline—the lone employee taking on the autocratic boss—but it comes off as cartoonish and silly. Shane gets in on the act and things just generally go downhill. There ensues much hitting of Vince with foreign objects. Ho hum. Shane, handcuffed outside the ring, is left to ineffectually shout at HBK. Shawn does everything he can think of to make this match good, leaping from the top rope, leaping off tall ladders, etc. And then he wins. Well, that was…disappointing. What a waste of Shawn Michaels.
Triple threat match for the world heavyweight belt. In the lead-up to this match, Kurt Angle won the belt and then Rey Mysterio won the Royal Rumble, giving him a match against the person of his choosing at WrestleMania. Then Randy Orton said mean things about Eddie, leading Rey to put his match opportunity on the line. Randy cheated and won, meaning that he would face Angle, but Teddy Long put Rey back in the running. Poor Kurt really doesn’t have much at stake other than his belt, but whatever. The three of them get a pretty sweet montage before the match.
P.O.D performs Rey’s theme, and it sounds pretty good. I miss when Rey popped out onto the entrance ramp like he was coming out of a toaster. That was cool. This year Rey is sporting an elaborate Aztec inspired ensemble, replete with a bright, feathery bird head dress. I like this version of Randy Orton. He’s cocky and kind of cool. He also pulls off a nifty drop kick when Rey is in midair. Kurt Angle, not to be outdone, suplexes Orton and Rey AT THE SAME TIME. I know I can expect awesomeness from Angle and Rey, if Orton can keep up with them this will possibly be the match of the night.
Okay, Chicago is booing Rey Mysterio. Chicago, what is wrong with you? Nobody hates Rey! He is adorable!
Rey wins, after a weirdly short match. It felt like things were just getting started and then it was over. I am grievously disappointed. When you have two guys capable of having long, good matches, why would you cut them short like that? Aside from the fact that this was a Smackdown match and the WWE insists on treating it as the B show. Good for Rey, I guess. At least Orton held his own, for the most part, though he spent a lot of time recuperating outside the ring. That was Angle’s last WrestleMania, too. I hate that he goes out like this. For shame, WWE.
Aww, Chavo and Vickie come out to congratulate Rey. That’s nice.
John Cena and Triple H are in the main event, with Cena defending the WWE title. Cena’s trying to work an underdog angle, but it really doesn’t work. Ah, this is the famous dueling entrances bit. Triple H rises from underneath the ramp in an enormous throne, looking like a fearsome barbaric king. I absolutely believe that he’s just passing through before pillaging another village. It looks like he just walked in from some barbaric swamp. He is an intimidating man. Cena comes in as a Depression era gangster. There’s a little vignette glorifying gangsters as being of the people, which, whatever, WWE. It looks cool. As I expected, Chicago is not a fan of Mr. Cena. Chicago, you are ruining WrestleMania, I hope you realize that.
After the disappointment of the Heavyweight match, I am more than a little disgruntled at this marquee event. Smackdown got none of this pomp. Sometimes I hate you, WWE.
There’s a lot of staring and circling. I am not compelled, gentlemen, and certainly not convinced this should be the main event. Mostly Cena reacts to taking a beating at the hands of Triple H. Whenever he gets some of his own back we are treated to the dulcet tones of Chicago chanting “Cena sucks.” Chicago…shut up, just shut up.
Both men are trying to make me believe that they’re having the match of a lifetime, but I’m not buying it. Look, I like John Cena, but he is not the greatest wrestler. Still, I usually find him entertaining enough to make up for it. And Triple H is more than capable of making his opponent look good. But it’s not happening here. I don’t know why.
The match ends when Triple H taps to the FU, Cena’s cleverly named submission move. That had absolutely none of the impact as when he tapped to Benoit two years before. That was not good, boys. Not good at all.
What a disappointing WrestleMania. The women had a stellar match, and JBL and Benoit had a good match. Foley and Edge probably had the match of the night, and that wasn’t even for a title. Other than that…meh. There was also the matter of the absences of my beloved Chris Jericho as well as Christian. Sad times. Not a fan of this one. Not at all. The crowd certainly didn’t help. Let’s do better next year, shall we?
