Tuesday, January 29, 2013

NWA (JCP) Bunkhouse Stampede (January 1988)



In November 1987, the NWA wanted to bring their annual Starrcade supercard to pay per view. In response, Vince McMahon decided to counterprogram – creating the first Survivor Series, and forcing cable companies to take sides. Since the WWF was radically more popular, Starrcade got the boot from almost all providers, and the WWF decimated their buyrate – along with inventing one of their most enduring show concepts. They destroyed Starrcade so badly, in fact, that the NWA permanently moved the event to a December slot for the future.

Spurned, but still desperate to break into the lucrative pay per view market, the NWA held another event in January – a pay per view headlined with a gimmick battle royal known as the ‘Bunkhouse Stampede.’ Vince McMahon counterprogrammed again, once more inventing one of the WWF’s most enduring concepts with his own gimmick battle royal show called the ‘Royal Rumble’ – airing it on the non-pay per view USA Network at the same time as Stampede, and promising Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant – forcing fans to choose. Once again, the WWF won out.

From Uniondale, New York; Your Hosts are Jim Ross and Bob Caudle.


Opening NWA Television Title Match: Nikita Koloff v Bobby Eaton: Eaton is reluctant to tie-up, and stalls with manager Jim Cornette. Koloff dominates the first few lockups, so Eaton stupidly starts a slugfest - and predictably ends up cowering in the corner. They fight over a wristlock - with Koloff dominating - but spill to the outside, and the change in momentum is enough to allow Bobby a side-headlock. Koloff makes the ropes, and they spill to the floor, where the champ posts him a couple of times. Hiptoss on the concrete floor (they didn't bother putting down mats), but Eaton goes to the eyes, and drops an elbow for two. Hammerlock, but Koloff gets uppity, so Eaton with a missile dropkick for two, then back to the hammerlock. Koloff finally breaks with a backelbow, but Eaton is determined to rest, and goes right back to it. Koloff powers up again, so Eaton drops him with a single-arm DDT... and goes right back to hammer another lock. Koloff powers out again, this time unloading a ten-punch count, but the time limit expires at 20:00. Bad booking for an opener here, as this needed to be something peppy, not a slow, twenty minute draw. Match was filled with long restholds to bide time until the time limit, and though it had a few decent bits, far too long and dull overall - not to mention failing to deliver an exciting end sequence. – ½*

NWA Western States Heritage Title Match: Barry Windham v Larry Zbyszko: Windham is eager to get going, hitting an armdrag out of the initial lockup, and throwing a series of shoulderblocks, so Larry bails to the floor to regroup. He tries to shoot at the leg coming back in, but Windham overpowers him. Larry with a hammerlock, but Windham realizes no one wants to see another hammerlock tonight, and wrestles out with a fireman's carry. Atomic drop puts Larry on the floor again for a while, and tries to shoot at the leg again, but Windham won't have it. He finally manages a drop-toehold to get an anklelock on, but it's 1988, so no one's tapping to that. Actually, no one's 'tapping' yet, period, as that wouldn't become the popularized indication of submission until the late 90s. Windham misses a flying elbowdrop, so Larry capitalizes on it by going to another anklelock. If you're gonna do restholds, at least try to make them psychologically sound. That goes on so long, it nearly makes it to the late-90s, but thankfully Windham throws a dropkick to break it up. Poorly executed suplex for two, and a gutwrench suplex gets two. Sleeper, but Zbyszko makes the ropes, and bails again. Windham follows him out, but gets posted, and Zbyszko stupidly blocks him from getting back in where he can, you know, win the damn title. Windham responds by crotching him on the post for being a dumbass, but misses a bodypress, and goes tumbling to the floor. Sunset flip back in doesn't work, so he throws a backslide for two. Backdrop, and a ten-punch count, but the referee gets bumped as Barry rolls him up. He lets off to go check on him, allowing Larry to whack him with valet Baby Doll's high heel for the pin at 19:16 - making Larry the second and final champion. Another long, dull match - filled with stalling, and not at all psychologically sound, as even if we forget Larry not capitalizing on the arm, all of his anklelocking went nowhere, and was more or less no-sold. Even all the stalling didn't really go anywhere, as it just served to annoy to the viewer, as opposed to being used to annoy Windham to the point where he gets frustrated, and Zbyszko can outsmart him. DUD

NWA World Title Match: Ric Flair v Hawk: The Road Warriors were still a very active tag team at this point, which didn't make Hawk a particularly believable challenger to the World Title - especially in a pay per view setting. Hawk overpowers him to start (no shit!), so Flair starts throwing chops, which Hawk literally shrugs off. Press slam, so Flair bails to regroup with manager JJ Dillon. Hawk drags him back in to do it again, and a headbutt flops Flair. He stomps a mud hole in the corner, and a dropkick lays Flair out. Fistdrop, and a hiptoss, so Flair bails again. Hawk suplexes him back in this time, and grabs a bearhug. Flair won't give, and tries the chops again, but Hawk just glares at him, and puts him on the outside again. He follows, but Flair lures him into the rail - only to have Hawk no-sell that, too. Unable to make any progress, Flair goes to the old standby, and blows him low, and finally that’s enough to earn a reaction from the Road Warrior. Shindrop, and they go to the floor again for Flair to send him into the rail a couple of times. Inside, Flair with a flying axehandle, and another shindrop gets two. More chops, but Hawk counters a backdrop with a neckbreaker. Another try at the fistdrop misses, with Hawk landing on his knee on the way down, and Flair immediately capitalizes, since he's not Larry Zbyszko. Side suplex allows Flair to post the knee, and he hooks the Figure Four - making sure to use the ropes when Hawk doesn't immediately give. Hawk manages to reverse (wisely dragging Flair away from the ropes before he does), and forcing the champion to crawl for them. Flair tries to head up top to finish the weakened Hawk, but ends up getting slammed off, and Hawk unloads some chops of his own. Lariat bumps the referee, and they spill to the floor for Hawk to post him - drawing color. Powerslam back inside, and a superplex - but the referee's still out. That allows JJ Dillon to run in with a chair, but Hawk no-sells that shit, and starts choking him out - only to get properly leveled by Flair (that's why he's the World Champion!) for a dramatic two count. Hanging vertical suplex gets no-sold, and Hawk with a ten-punch count, then another fistdrop. Flair grabs the chair again out of desperation, but the referee's all conscious and shit this time, and disqualifies him at 21:39. This would have been fine for TV, but in an era before pay per views were expected monthly presentations, this wasn't good use of Flair, or the World Title. Hawk's lack of selling was nicely offset by Flair's wonderful job of selling throughout, and unlike the previous bout, it was all building to something - as Hawk's continued no-selling frustrated Flair to the point where he got himself intentionally disqualified to keep the title. **

Main Event: Bunkhouse Stampede: This was one of Dusty Rhodes' more interestingly flawed concept matches, as it's a battle royal... inside a cage. And it isn't a 'Hell in a Cell' style cage, where you can throw a guy over the top - no, instead it's a standard cage, and you can only eliminate someone by getting them out the door, or over the top of the cage, and to the floor. Basically, it's a reverse 'escape style' cage match, the only benefit of which is that it directly led to the invention of the a far more intriguing and logical battle royal variation, with the Royal Rumble concept to counterprogram. We've got eight men: Arn Anderson, The Barbarian, Dusty Rhodes, Tully Blanchard, Ivan Koloff, Lex Luger, Animal, and The Warlord filling the cage - with everyone dressed in street clothes since that be a Bunkhouse, boy! Of course, street clothes for most of these guys is just a cutoff t-shirt, with various gym logos on them. Luger goes shirtless, of course, since shirts are Lex Luger's Achilles' heel. As you would expect, the match is a bunch of 'brawling,' and the eliminations fairly ridiculous, as there's no realistically convincing way to force someone up the side of a mesh cage, and out to the floor, no matter how strong you are. Dusty gets a belt to knock everyone around, but that doesn't exactly make him any friends, and Barbarian responds in kind. The first elimination finally comes when Animal manages to force Koloff over the top of the cage, as Dusty opens up a nasty gash in his arm. Animal manages to literally kick Warlord out the door, but ends up getting carried by his own momentum, and eliminated, too. Stupid bit (though that term is very relative here) as Tully tries to climb to escape Lex Luger's wrath - so Luger pulls him down for a powerslam. Strategy! Tully and Arn dump him for being an idiot, but since pulling someone out of a door pretty much requires you to go out first, they all end up eliminated. Down to Barbarian and Rhodes, and Dusty manages to get him over the top at 26:21. Everyone worked hard to make it work, and lots of guys bladed to try and sell the intensity,  but the concept was just too flawed to work a match around, and took far too long to boot. Points for creativity, since it sounds intriguing enough that I always wanted to see it when I was as a kid, but completely fails in practice. DUD

BUExperience: Despite the announcers billing it the ‘first annual’ Bunkhouse Stampede, not surprisingly, it would be the last. Usually two-hour shows are pretty easy to save with one good match, but this one fails on every level – putting on three long, dull matches, and a mediocre Flair match. The whole show came off badly, not only for the in-ring action, but the production values looked comical compared to the WWF’s sleek product, with the arena kept dark, and nothing in the way of video packages or interviews. The thing was such a financial disaster (due to the WWF’s counterprogramming, the mediocrity of the event itself, as well as the flawed decision to hold the event well outside of their established Southern territory) that it ended up playing a big part in Jim Crockett getting out of the wrestling business almost entirely later that year, when he sold the promotion to Ted Turner. DUD

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