Sunday, November 29, 2009:[/u]
Email:1) Christopher Daniels - I'd like to work with Rey Mysterio if possible.
2) Matt Cross - I would like to work with Christopher Daniels at some stage, i think you'd be impressed with the results. [If the next person says they want to work with Matt Cross, I'm booking a four-corner scramble.]
3) We got a 6.34 rating for 'COTC II'! The attendance level was 8007 people. We made $320280 from ticket sales.
4) HWA got a 0.76 television rating for 'Main Event TV'! The event was attended by 386 people. They made $7720 from ticket sales.
5) CMLL got a 1.61 television rating for 'CMLL Saturday'! The event was attended by 604 people. They made $18120 from ticket sales.
6) IWC got a 0.26 television rating for 'IWC Ignition'! The event was attended by 5035 people. They made $201400 from ticket sales.
Results for
Trios Tournament
Live, from Tampa Bay, Florida:
1st segment
Singles match, Pure Wrestling rules, for the ROH Pure Championship
Rob Conway (c) vs. Roderick Strong
Roderick Strong comes to the ring looking ever more grungy and disheveled, with weeks worth of unkempt growth on his face, jeans and a t-shirt. He slumps in the corner a la ECW-era Raven and looks on with an unreadable expression as the vain, self-aggrandizing champion struts to the ring. Amazingly, Rob Conway offers a handshake; Strong doesn't even pull himself up to meet Conway in the ring, dismissing him with a vacant stare instead.
When the bell rings and Conway and Strong get down to business, all the theatrics go out the window, and it's all about being the better wrestler. Conway, the bigger and more powerful of the two, uses more strength, while Strong uses more speed, but regardless, both are surgically precise in their wrestling. Neither even try for submission moves; it's all about high-impact punishment. Suplexes, back-breakers, throws, anything designed to be impactful and knock the wind out of a person, that's what they go for. Even when they work wear-down holds, there's a viciousness to it; Conway works a body scissors and delivers some clubbing forearms to Strong. When Strong has Conway in a rear chinlock, he makes sure to knee Conway in the back a few times. It's all very good and technical for nine minutes or so.
And then, out of nowhere, the music of Bobby Roode hits, just after Strong hits a Sick Kick. But instead of Roode, The Alex Shelley Experience comes out, mic in one hand and a chair in the other.
TASE: No worries, no worries. The Experience has you covered. That uncultured swine Bobby Roode won't get near the ring, that's a promi – [The ref starts yelling at TASE, ordering him to leave ringside.] Sir, apparently, you don't get the opportunity you have right now. You're only a few feet away from The Experience. Times like this don't come maybe once in a lifetime for a poor soul like yourself. Relish it, friend. Relish The Experien –
TASE's words get cut off by the action in the ring happening behind the ref's back. TASE sees Conway get up and whip Strong into the ropes, and, like everybody else, sees Bobby Roode spring up from ringside with a chair and smash it across Strong's back as he hits the ropes. The ref turns just as Conway grabs Strong and nails the Box Office Bomb. TASE flips his lid yelling at the ref not to count, but Roode comes around, drags him off the apron and throws him into the steel steps to keep him from interfering with what turns out to be an academic three-count. Roode slides in as Conway slides out and kneels down by Strong's head.
Roode: Do I have your attention
now, Roddy? Am I worth your time now? I promise you're gonna get more of me than you could dream of … more than you'll ever want. ***
Winner: Rob Conway (pinfall, Box Office Bomb)
Quality: 82
Crowd: 82
Overall: 81
2nd segment
Trios Tournament semi-final match, one fall
The Lone Wolves (Chris Hero, Randy Orton & Christian Cage) vs. The Honor Guard (Scott Colton, Nigel McGuinness & Claudio Castagnoli)
What the two teams have in common as they come out is, ironically enough, the one thing both teams lack: unity. The Lone Wolves come out individually, and show all the pre-match camaraderie of third cousins who've never met. The Honor Guard, likewise, have a huge pink elephant with them in the form of the rift between team captain Scott Colton and Nigel McGuinness. But the differences between the two teams are more apparent; while the Wolves aren't best friends, they're obviously focused, and there's no animosity between them. The Guard are dysfunctional from the word go, quite literally. Colton and McGuinness argue over who's going to start, with McGuinness insisting Colton “be a leader” and start off the match, while Colton says McGuinness needs to be “put in his place once and for all”. Castagnoli ends the argument by taking the start himself, squaring off against Orton.
There's no shortage of wanting to win in Castagnoli, and he has all the tools to win against anybody straight-up, but it becomes apparent he can't win a match against three athletes all by himself. And then comes the Wolves' strategy; with potentially a second match ahead of them if they win (and against either a very physical and diverse Line In The Sand team, or the psychotics in The Family), the strategy of the Wolves seems to be to go for the finish as quickly as possible. Orton goes for – and fails to connect with – both the RKO and the skull punt in the early goings, and Cage and Hero are no different, attempting their finishers (or, in Hero's case, his multitude of them) when given any hint of an opportunity. Castagnoli is rattled after only narrowly missing the first few attempts, but between the offense he eats and the pressure, he can't dodge the bullet forever. Finally, four minutes of weathering Cage and Orton, Hero comes in, who actually hits the Hero's Welcome; Castagnoli only manags to kick out at 2 ½, sending him scurrying for the tag-in. Colton takes charge after McGuinness refuses to, saying “you're the leader; lead!”.
Colton fares no better, and like Castagnoli, it isn't for lack of trying. Colton tries to work in some quick-tag offense to break up the Wolves' rhythm, but Castagnoli still has cobwebs to shake off, and McGuinness' icy glare says for Colton to not even bother. Colton finally catches a break with Orton when he runs at Colton in the corner, and Colton is able to dodge it, Orton hitting the turnbuckle chest-first. Colton uses the opportunity to hit some quick moves to Orton's torso, including an inverted suplex slam, and draping Orton stomach-down over the corner ropes so Colton can use upward strikes on the abdomen. But when Colton tries for the Killshot, Orton slides out the back, spins Colton around and hits the RKO. Colton and Orton struggle to crawl to their corners; Orton gets there milliseconds ahead of Colton, Orton tagging into Cage.
But when Colton tries to tag out, nobody's there.
Colton looks up and sees McGuinness on the floor, walking away. Castagnoli drops down to chase him and give him a piece of his mind. McGuinness responds by shoving Castagnoli away; Castagnoli does the same. And then the crowd loses their minds when McGuinness outright levels Castagnoli with a lariat and walks away.
Colton only gets to see the beginning of the implosion of his team, because Cage is right on him, taking Colton to pound-town. Cage goes to town on Colton, leaving him flailing and unable to defend himself. Hero intercepts Castagnoli just to be sure they have the advantage, and after a couple minutes of working over Colton, Cage tags in Orton … then hits the Killswitch! Skull punt by Orton, and the ref could count to a 100 and Colton wouldn't move! McGuinness watches the whole thing from the stage, smiling and clapping as Colton eats the three-count, ending the Guard's night prematurely.
Until he turns around and sees Don Callis, glaring daggers up at him from the wheelchair. No words need to be said; the hatred exchanged in their eyes is enough. Callis watches McGuinness leave and then turns his back to leave as well, not wanting to see the celebration of the misfit Wolves having advanced to the finals in barely 10 minutes against his finest soldiers. **3/4
Winners: The Lone Wolves (pinfall, Orton pins Colton, skull punt)
Quality: 77
Crowd: 85
Overall: 82
3rd segment
Trios Tournament semi-final match, one fall
The Line In The Sand (BJ Whitmer, Paul Burchill & Ruckus) vs. The Family (Edge, Jimmy Jacobs & Tyler Black)
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The music of The Line In The Sand plays (possibly for the last time, Steven Manning notes), and one right after the other, BJ Whitmer, Ruckus and Paul Burchill step through the curtain to thunderous applause. They smile and talk to each other a moment before starting down the ramp.
Manning: John, these three men might be all that's standing between The Family and taking the Trios Tournament victory tonight. They're the only team left as unified in mind, body and soul as The Famil--
Manning interrupts himself as The Family pour out of the audience at the end of the ramp and ambush the Line. And it isn't just the three members participating in the Trios Tournament; Kevin Steen is with them, as is the masked man who ambushed Bryan Danielson in the dark the previous night. And in the hands of all are weapons, which they use to absolutely destroy The Line In The Sand. The referee screams and pleads for Steen and the mystery man to leave and for Edge, Jimmy Jacobs and Tyler Black to get in the ring and allow the match to take place properly, but they are hearing none of it. All they are listening to is the screams of pain from Whitmer, Burchill and Ruckus; Edge and Kevin Steen use steel chairs to tattoo Ruckus' back, splitting the skin in numerous places and raising an uncountable number of welts, criss-crossing like an interstate highway map. Burchill gets worked over by Tyler Black and the mystery man, who brandish baseball bats. And Whitmer gets gored by Jimmy Jacobs and his spike, stabbed repeatedly in the forehead like some kind of slasher movie. By the time Jacobs pulls off and just resorts to kicking Whitmer – who has turtled on the floor – there is a noticeable and disturbingly large pool of blood on the mat by Whitmer's head. Security come down, but their tentative stance and several yards of distance tell the story: even with tazers and batons, they want no part of throwing down with the five machines of mayhem that are Trish Stratus' Family. All they can do is stand and watch as The Family tear their opponents limb from limb, safe in the sheltered harbor of the match not having officially started.
Finally, after spending over seven minutes turning the arena floor into a blood-soaked killing field, Edge orders the troops it's time to get the actual match started. He sends Steen and the unknown assassin back into the crowd. Edge rolls into the ring and tells Black and Jacobs to send in Ruckus. They roll Ruckus into the ring, then come around to their corner, as Burchill crawls to the stairs, trying to use them to get up, and Whitmer shows absolutely no sign of life.
Manning: John, there's no way any of these men can continue after that disgusting assault! Ruckus looks like he got hit by a truck, Burchill can barely stand, and Whitmer looks like he lost so much blood he went unconscious! And look at Edge, taking his time, setting up for the spear! That man makes me sick! What a pathetic excuse for a human being!
JBL: Once again, Manning, The Family are one step ahead of everybody, and are two steps over the line nobody else is willing to cross. That's how they've put ROH and E-Pro back on their heels!
Manning: Ruckus is willing himself to his feet … look at the pain on his face, John! The man is suffering! He's in no condition to continue! Burchill, God bless his heart, could have broken ribs! He doesn't belong standing on that apron! And you can forget Whitmer!
Edge takes his time, waiting for Ruckus to turn around, his sick, toothy smile cutting his face in half. Finally, Ruckus turns around and Edge launches of out the corner … right into a kick to the face! Black and Jacobs freak out on the apron! Edge gets to his knees … BUZZSAW KICK TO THE SKULL! Edge hits the mat like a fallen tree! Ruckus drags himself up to his feet and lets loose with a primal battle cry that would turn cold the blood of the hardest-hearted sociopath. Ruckus goes and tags in Burchill, then runs at the Family's corner and blasts Black in the face with a running elbow smash! And a discus elbow to Jacobs' face knocks him off the apron too! Ruckus slingshots himself onto Black and goes back and forth punting Jacobs and Black in the torso!
That leaves Burchill all alone in the ring with Edge. Burchill drags himself up to the top corner, the crowd alternating between chanting his name and “please don't die”, due to his unsteady stance on the top.
Manning: Burchill has to hurry, Edge is on his hands and knees now.
JBL: If he's got broken ribs, this is suicide, Manning! He could wind up with a collapsed lung!
Manning: Burchill takes off! Elbow to the back of the head! Edge has to be completely out! Pin him, Burchill! Pin him!
But Burchill stands up instead, clutching his abdomen. He looks out on the crowd, who are going crazy; he looks down and sees Ruckus, having kicked Jacobs and Black silly, down on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Burchill looks back out on the crowd again …
… and stomps one foot.
JBL: He's calling for it! Listen to that crowd! They want it!
Manning: Do it! Do it now, for the love of God! Do it and stop The Family, Paul!
Burchill winces as he reaches down to grab Edge's arms, pulling his body up off the mat just enough for the curb stomp to have the proper impact. The crowd is on their feet, chanting “curb stomp”; Burchill looks around at the crowd and smiles, and then yells out his own battle cry of rage before driving Edge's face almost through the mat itself. Burchill collapses to his knees, rolls over Edge to his back and makes the one and only cover of the entire match. The crowd counts along, and when the ref calls for the bell, the place erupts.
Manning: They've done it! The Line In The Sand came back from a heinous, disgusting, awful beating! They fought through injuries, they fought without BJ Whitmer –
JBL: Here come the medics, Steven Manning! They got a stretcher for Whitmer! Trainers to help out the rest!
Manning: John, what we just witnessed was nothing short of heroic. It re-defined the word superhuman. That was never a wrestling match; The Family turned it a street fight, and it backfired. It only made those men want to win that much more.
JBL: Don't go getting ahead of yourself, Steven Manning, you're forgetting one thing!
Manning: What's that, John?
JBL: This was a
semi-final match, Manning, not the finals! Ruckus and Paul Burchill just fought through unspeakable pain and overwhelming odds to beat those three lunatics … and in less than two hours, them and BJ Whitmer gotta do it
again! **3/4
Winners: The Line In The Sand (pinfall, Paul Burchill pins Edge, curb stomp)
Quality: 79
Crowd: 82
Overall: 81
4th segment
Singles match, one fall
Beulah McGillicutty vs. Trish Stratus
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The music of Alice In Chains' “Man In The Box” hits and the crowd explodes for the “Queen Of Extreme”. Wearing pants and an old school “EC-F'n-W” shirt, Beulah steps out and mimics the familiar arms-to-the-side gesture of both her ex-boyfriend Raven and her husband Tommy Dreamer, as the crowd chants her name. Manning and JBL remind home viewers that, while Beulah is afraid of nothing and can get nasty with the best of them, she's a long way from having been an active competitor, having only one match since being retired from ECW in 1998.
Surprisingly, Trish's entrance is not through the crowd, but coming down the aisle, albeit from the side via the back hallways somewhere. When she takes off her veil, her hair, grown out to a pixie cut, is visible for the first time since getting her head shaved. She regards Beulah with outright contempt, and likewise does Beulah regard Trish. They aren't even willing to come out of their corners to stand face to face, let alone shake hands. The ref shrugs and calls for the bell.
Right from the start, it's no more a wrestling match than the previous match was, minus the weaponry, and it starts off with Beulah running at Trish and taking her down with a Thesz press, and then raining down punches. The ref stops her from using closed fists, which gives Trish time to crawl away, but Beulah is right back on her, splashing on Trish's back and then unceremoniously slamming Trish's face into the mat a few times, and follows it up with a bunch of Steve Austin-style stomping. Beulah gets the crowd going by doing the arms-out gesture and yelling “E-C-FUCKING-W!”.
Manning: Beulah now, picking up Trish … she's looking to end this now! She's looking for the Evenflow DDT! Trish shoves her back into the corner! Shoulder block by Trish! And another! Trish Stratus just dodged a major bullet!
Trish lays in with some kicks to the abdomen and ends the corner offense with a bitch-slap that actually makes Beulah leave her feet for a moment. Trish ends the corner assault by putting Beulah on the top turnbuckle and hitting the handstead headscissors takedown. Trish stalks Beulah, waiting for Beulah to get to her feet. Beulah gets up, turns around … Chick Kick, but it's ducked! Back body drop by Beulah! Now it's Beulah's turn to stalk … Trish gets up … Beulah-canrana attempt, turned into a power bomb by Trish! She makes the cover, but Beulah kicks out at 2! Trish stands up and gets in position again … Beulah stands up, and turns around right into a Chick Kick! Another cover … but it only gets 2! Trish is furious that Beulah won't stay down! Trish drags Beulah to the corner and smashes her face-first into a turnbuckle a few times, then turns her around. Trish chops Beulah across the chest a couple times, but then decides she isn't having enough impact and rips the shirt off Beulah's body. Now down to a sports bra, Beulah's upper chest, where the chops make impact, is exposed, and Trish starts laying in with chops. And when she tires of that, Trish blasts Beulah with a few kicks. With Beulah on the ropes both figuratively and literally, Trish grabs her and goes old school with the Stratusfaction! But Beulah kicks out at 2 again! Trish freaks out, screaming like a banshee and kicking her feet like a toddler having a tantrum. She gets to her knees, glaring at Beulah who is lying on the mat in pain; Trish practically hyperventilates, she is so seething mad. Finally, she collects herself and actually starts chuckling, running her hands through her short hair. She grabs handfuls of Beulah's hair and slams her head into the mat, laughing a little between each impact. Once Beulah is hurt enough to not be a threat, Trish looks down at her, chuckling a little as she talks.
Trish: You … you wanna humiliate me, you whore? We'll see who's humiliated now! We'll see!
Trish rolls out and starts rooting under the ring for something. When she comes back up, the silver glint of scissors in her hands can be scene. The ref tries to stop her, but Trish is having none of it and scares away the official with her glare alone. Trish drops down and, with Beulah lying on her stomach, starts cutting jagged clumps of Beulah's hair off her head. Once Trish is satisfied with her butchery of Beulah's flaxen locks, she moves down and makes cuts in Beulah's pants, enough to tear them off off Beulah's body. And, as a final indignation, Trish spits on Beulah, calls her a “diseased slut” and says she hopes her “sluts-in-training daughters are watching”. Trish grabs Beulah's head for one more Stratusfaction, runs to the ropes and springboards off …
But Beulah pushes Trish off! Clothesline by Beulah, and another! Beulah-canrana! Trish back-pedals into the corner, but Beulah is a woman possessed! Stomps in the corner and knees to the face by Beulah, no science, just raw aggression until Trish slumps down to the mat. When she does, Beulah just starts soccer-kicking Beulah over and over and over again, screaming the whole time. Suddenly, she stops, gets down and grabs a handful of Trish's slight hair and raises her head.
Beulah: I am
not the mother you wanna fuck with!
With that, Beulah stands up, drags Trish to the center of the ring and puts her in position for the DDT. With one more yell of triumph, Beulah snaps back and Trish is spiked right into the mat … but Beulah doesn't let go! She drags Trish up again … a second DDT! But Beulah
still isn't done! Trish is so limp, she can't get off her knees, so Beulah makes the third DDT a kneeling one! Beulah makes the cover and gets the three-count, putting The Family oh-and-two on the night! DUD [Yeah, whatever.]
Winner: Beulah McGillicutty (pinfall, three DDT's)
Quality: 46
Crowd: 83
Overall: 71
5th segment
Tag match, one fall
The Elite (Matt Sydal & Jack Evans) vs. Jerry Lawler & Shawn Michaels
Manning: John, every match has pride on the line, but for these four men, I don't know if pride is a big enough word.
JBL: You haven't been in the ring, so you don't get it, Manning. When The Elite look at Shawn Michaels and Jerry Lawler, they see old men who won't get out of the way. And Michaels and Lawler see a couple of young punks with no respect and no class. You ask any man or woman who's laced up a pair of boots and made this their life, they'll tell you they've been in the shoes of Matt Sydal and Jack Evans. And you ask anybody who's ever stayed in this business long enough to not just made a name but a legacy … we've all felt what Shawn and Jerry are feeling right now. Every one of these guys isn't just fighting the guys across the ring; they're fighting themselves.
The looks on the faces of the four men in the tag match back up JBL's assertion; it's plain to see that, for Lawler and Michaels, The Elite represent, in spirit, the young firebrands they once were. And for Sydal and Evans, looking at the two elder statesmen is a grim reminder that time is not on their side. They both grudgingly offer hands, and they both go to pull the other side in, ending up meeting in the middle with hostile gleams in their eyes.
The match starts out with Michaels and Evans, but tags come quick as they all want a feel for each other. As the pairings bear out, one thing becomes evident: the advantage for Lawler and Michaels lies in their experience and resiliency, as The Elite have them out-classed on speed, repertoire, and teamwork. Time and again, Michaels and Lawler get burned by the agility and athleticism of Sydal and Evans, who fly around the ring seemingly at will, and use quick tags and stick-and-move offense to keep the vets off-balance. And when Michaels and Lawler are able to score a solid hit, the offensive flurry is brought to a halt by The Elite finding ways to tag to the fresh man. At first, it looks like Michaels and Lawler aren't trying very hard or The Elite is paying cat-and-mouse, but as the frustration sets in, it becomes obvious that neither are the case; Michaels and Lawler are putting in their best effort. And it's just a step behind.
But that's not to say Michaels and Lawler are outclassed, because they're able to keep The Elite from mounting a full-blown offensive, using their experience and patience. On more than a couple occasions, Sydal and Evans gamble on big hits a little too soon, and the experience edge give Michaels and Lawler the wherewithal to see it coming and avoid or counter. One in particular almost ends the match, when Evans tries for a dragon-rana, but Michaels catches him with Sweet Chin Music. Only Sydal interfering in the count stops Michaels from getting some payback on Evans … but in the ensuing fisticuffs between Sydal and Lawler, Lawler gets dumped to the outside awkwardly, coming down hard on his shoulder. Sydal aggravates it by throwing Lawler into the steel steps and the barricade, leaving Michaels all but on his own.
Getting to close to the pinfall seems to awaken something in Michaels, as he finds an even higher gear, going after The Elite and throwing caution to the wind. Like he would in the 90's, Michaels puts his own body on the line, figuratively (and even literally) hurling himself at The Elite, looking for the killing blow. Finally, Sydal and Evans look weak, almost inept, as Michaels single-handedly keeps Evans from looking for the tag, and keeps Sydal from offering it. After a few minutes of cleaning house, Lawler pulls himself back up on the apron in time to see Michaels hit the diving elbow off the top to Evans. Michaels then runs at Sydal on the apron, vaulting over him and wiping him out with a sunset flip powerbomb onto the floor! The crowd chants “HBK” as Michaels takes a few moments to indulge in his handiwork before rolling back in. The crowd already knows what's coming before Michaels stomps the mat.
Evans gets to his feet now as Michaels tunes up the band. Sweet Chin – Evans ducks! Capo-style kick from Evans to the back of Michaels' head! Both men are down, and both partners are begging for a tag … but only Evans crawls to his corner! Michaels pulls himself up on the ropes, but doesn't even try to look for a tag! Sydal tags in and gets the drop on Michaels, then pulls him to the center of the ring.
Manning: Here comes Lawler to stop Sydal … Sydal drops Michaels, kick to the gut caught by Lawler … enzuigiri to the shoulder by Sydal! Lawler's in pain, that's the shoulder he hit the barricade with!
JBL: Look at HBK, Manning! He's getting set to play a song!
Manning: Sweet Chin Musi-- Sydal ducks! It hits Lawler instead! Dammit, no, Lawler's out cold, and Michaels can't believe he screwed up! HERE WE GO DRIVER FROM SYDAL! Michaels is down now, and Sydal's going up top!
JBL: Sydal's putting an exclamation point on this, Manning! He's making a name for himself!
Manning: Shooting star press connects, and the cover … one … two … three! This match is over!
JBL: The match is over, Manning, but the questions are piling up, Manning! Was what Joey Ryan said true? Is Shawn Michaels coasting on legacy? For a man who calls himself “The Showstopper”, his show's been stopped more often than not on PPV since coming here!
The last look before the PPV cuts to a promo video for the next match is of Michaels, having pulled himself into the corner, looking despondent. Lawler offers a hand to pull him up, but Michaels won't even look at “The King”. He just sits in the corner until the shot cuts away, looking like a man who's fallen into a deep, downward spiraling existential crisis. **3/4
Winners: The Elite (pinfall, Sydal pins Michaels, shooting star press)
Quality: 79
Crowd: 78
Overall: 78
6th segment
Three-way elimination match, for the Bold Future Championship
Kevin Steen (c) vs. Raven vs. Homicide
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Homicide is the first out, wearing a set of coveralls similar to what we wore in the Cage Of Death against Team CZW three years before. Raven, like his friend Beulah a little while before, comes out looking like a throwback to ECW: the leather jacket, the torn jean shorts, the Sandman T-shirt, and even “Come Out And Play” as his entrance theme. But with both men wanting a piece of Kevin Steen for his actions, neither man is willing to let the other get the first chance at revenge, so Homicide and Raven start fighting right off the bat. And it isn't wrestling, it's fighting; punches, kicks and whatever they can pull out from under the ring. Going after each other gives Steen no reason to hurry to the ring, so he waits and watches from the safety of the audience, looking for the right moment.
It's a good seven minutes of chaos before Steen joins in, and in that time, Homicide and Raven turn the ringside area into a junkyard of discarded and broken weapons and implements. Two chairs lay broken, one after an attempt to smash Raven's skull while he leaned against a steel post, and another twisted out of shape after a Russian legsweep by Raven into it. A Singapore cane is splintered and coming apart, and the back of Raven's t-shirt is split in several places because of it. A trash can is reduced to a crumpled up wad of tinfoil after being wrapped around the head of Homicide and stomped into his face. And that doesn't include the steel steps, the barricade, and one of the monitors from the announce table. All the while, Steen watches Homicide and Raven beat the piss out of each other all over ringside, with nary a pinfall attempt in sight. Around the seven minute mark, Raven, having put down Homicide with the monitor to the head, goes under the ring and pulls out a table. Once he sets it up, he goes under the ring again.
JBL: What's he doing, setting up Thanksgiving dinner? How many tables does a man need?
Manning: Raven's mind is a twisted place, John, you know tha-- [Manning stops when Raven finds what he wants and comes out with it.] Oh God. Oh, my God. John, that's lighter fluid! Raven's dousing the table, he's-- he's gonna light the table on fire!
JBL: This isn't ECW! Put a stop to it, Manning!
Manning: It's a three-way dance, John! There's no rules! It's every man for himself!
Raven pulls out a lighter from his pocket and turns the table into an inferno. With his attention set on turning the table into a fiery slab, that's when Steen makes his entrance … and so does The Family's mystery assassin. Steen goes after Homicide, stomping away at him a few times before throwing him in the ring. Raven doesn't see the assassin coming, nor Raven go after Homicide, since the assassin comes through the crowd in the aisle. A nutshot stops Raven in his tracks. The assassin spins Raven around … POWERBOMB INTO THE FIRE TABLE! The ring attendants rush to put out the fire, and the assassin pushes them away! BACK BODY DROP ONTO THE GUARD RAIL! The assassin grabs the Singapore cane and smashes it into the ringpost, finishing the job of breaking it in half … AND JAMS IT IN RAVEN'S EYE! Raven screams in pain as the assassin pushes the splintered wood into the flesh until trainers push the assassin away and start to check on Raven.
Meanwhile, in the ring, Steen has less of an opponent and more of a punching bag, and he uses the opportunity to torture Homicide, both physically and verbally. He taunts Homicide in between moves, asking him if standing up for Boog Washington is worth the pain, asking if Boog would do the same for him. All the while, Steen just has his way with Homicide, delighting in prolonging the pain as long as possible. When he looks over and sees the trainers are taking Raven to the back, Steen signals for the end and hoists Homicide up in a fireman's carry.
Manning: Looks like he's looking for the F-Cinq … DDT BY HOMICIDE! HE HELD ON AND TURNED IT INTO A DDT! HOMICIDE IS STILL ALIVE, AND THIS MATCH IS STILL ALIVE!
Homicide pulls himself up and lets out his signature Puerto Rican call before running at Steen. Shining Wizard by Homicide! Quick to the top rope … double foot stomp off the top! The cover, but it only gets two. Homicide gets to his feet quick … HUGE lariat by Homicide! Another cover, but it only gets two! Steen walks right into an ace crusher, but that only gets two as well! Homicide can't believe Steen keeps kicking out! Homicide makes a throat-slash gesture and yells out “COP KILLA!”.
Manning: He's getting Steen set … got the arms hooked … rolls through … Steen keeps rolling! Breaks the arm hold! Sweeps the legs … oh, no … Mobius Strip! Steen's locking in the Mobius Strip!
Homicide tries to fight it best he can, but once Steen sits down with it and puts the knee in the back of the neck, there's nowhere to go. Homicide holds on for dear life, trying to fight out the pain, but with nowhere to go and no way to reverse it, the pain becomes overwhelming, and he has to tap. The announcer confirms everybody's worst fear: with Raven getting checked out by doctors for the eye injury, he's officially out of the match, thereby making Steen the winner and extending his Bold Future Championship run to two months.
Manning: Kevin Steen pulled this night out of the gutter for The Family, and it's all thanks to that mysterious assassin that Trish Stratus has brought in! Kevin Steen did not want to deal with Raven, so he had Raven taken out!
JBL: And look at him, making tracks through the crowd like his feet were on fire! The man's so slick, he could slide down a sand dune and not get burned!
Manning: Steen knows he isn't done with Raven, not by a long shot! All he did was make a madman madder!
JBL: Yeah, but The Family are clever and psychotic. They may be better at Raven's game than Raven is! ***
Winner: Kevin Steen (Raven eliminated for medical reasons, Homicide eliminated by submission to Mobius Strip)
Quality: 80
Crowd: 83
Overall: 82
7th segment
Tag match, for the ROH World Tag Team Championships
The Burning River Brigade (c) vs. Bastard Nation
[/center]
The challengers are introduced first, and before the ring announcer can introduced the champions, Arik Cannon snatches the mic out of the announcer's hand.
Cannon: Before we get to taking the championships from those overrated vanilla midgets, we need to make a couple things clear. First thing we need to set straight is this stupid idea that whoever wins tonight is gonna get eaten for lunch by Buzz Stryker and Victor Ceron. Roll the footage.
Up on on Tron, footage rolls from several months back, when We Who Are Not As Others squared off against La Raza. The final seconds of the match are played, where La Raza scored an upset victory. That is quickly followed by footage of Murderdeathkill defeating the Others in their historic first meeting.
Chuck Taylor: Aw, would you look at that, Arik? The Others
aren't invincible! I mean, those yahoos behind the table [gesturing to Manning and JBL] keep saying they are! The virgins on the message boards keep saying they are! And if we can't trust a bunch of teenagers on their parents' computers and a couple talking heads behind a table to be the judge of talent, what can we trust? Our own eyes? The videotape? [Taylor deadpans and hands the mic back to Cannon.]
Cannon: And that brings us to our second point. Everybody in that locker room trains, hoping one day, they'll be in the spot we're in: fighting for gold. You know what the difference is between them and us? They go to the gym, they lift weights, they do cardio, whatever. That's what they do from sun-up to sundown. Stronger, faster, better. [Cannon taps his forehead.] This is the most important muscle to work out. And we do it. Every day. To know your opponent is to own your opponent.
Taylor: We watch tapes. Over and over and over. It wasn't some fluke that we dissected Cross and Prohibition like a biology class frog! We watched their tapes. We watched every match they've had since coming to ROH. We learned their patterns, broke their code. They're impatient daredevils. That's not a tough nut to crack, folks. We did it before, and tonight, we're gonna do it again … and then we'll spend the next few weeks cracking the code of the Others. If a couple of has-been luchadore wannabes can do it, and a pair of yardtard garbage-fed rejects, we should be able to do it in our sleep!
Taylor hands the mic back to the announcer, who introduces the champs. Josh Prohibition and Matt Cross ignore the trash-talk from Bastard Nation as they hand their belts to the ref, not even giving them a passing glance until the ref calls for the bell.
After a quick little confab to figure out who's going first, Prohibition starts off against Taylor, and right off the bat, there's a different feel to the match compared to their last one. And it starts with Prohibition doing exactly the opposite of what Taylor is expecting, which is being patient, circling the ring, working a methodical ground game instead of rushing in, guns blazing. Taylor keeps trying to egg on Prohibition, but it doesn't work, so after a couple minutes, he gives up and tags in Cannon. But “The Anarchist” doesn't have any better luck getting under Prohibition's skin, and when Cross comes in, it's the same story: a smartly wrestled match by Cross, showing deliberation, patience and strategy.
In fact, what Bastard Nation were expecting from The Brigade is precisely what they show: impatience and recklessness. They try to force the pace to quicken, and they pay for it, as the BRB keep countering or letting them crash and burn. When they do score a hit, it's fleeting and they can never capitalize on it, because the Brigade doesn't get frantic or try to push the envelope. They just regroup and refocus, and that quickly gets them back in control, frustrating the Nation even more.
Around eight minutes in, Taylor tries a springboard moonsault after landing just a couple punches; for his effort, Prohibition catches him and turns it into a wheelbarrow suplex into a turnbuckle. Taylor hits, somehow lands on his feet and stumbles forward, right into a Prohibition-plex! Cross jumps over the top rope and intercepts Cannon as Prohibition makes the pin, and just like that, the match is over! The Brigade roll out and collect their belts, Cross tapping his forehead as they back up the ramp, saying “So do we!”. **3/4
Winners: The Burning River Brigade (pinfall, Prohibition pins Taylor, Prohibition-plex)
Quality: 81
Crowd: 74
Overall: 77
8th segment
[/center]
As Bastard Nation leave the ring, Paul Heyman surprises everybody by coming down the aisle. And following him moments later, Jim Cornette and a doctor. Cornette and the doc stand beside Heyman, who stands in the middle of the ring, mic in hand.
Heyman: Ladies and gentlemen, earlier this evening, you and everyone watching witnessed a vile, repugnant attack by Trish Stratus' Family. An attack on three men, before their scheduled match, designed to weaken three men with the strength of thousands, and the will of the people behind them. As you all know, those men went on to win that match against The Family, but it was not without cost. Ruckus and Paul Burchill are banged up, but they are made of sterner stuff, and are ready to fight. [Heyman pauses as the audience cheers.] But that is only two men, and a Trios match requires three. That third man, BJ Whitmer, lost a significant amount of blood in the attack. Doctors have done everything short of a shot of adrenaline to the heart to get BJ Whitmer in fighting condition. At this point, time is the only friend BJ Whitmer has, and time is the one thing we're running out of. After speaking with the doctor and Jim Cornette, it's been determined that, in the interest of fairness, and to avoid ending the Trios Tournament on a forfeit, we are moving the finals to the last match of the night, to allow BJ Whitmer as much recovery time as possible.
As the crowd roars their approval, one man comes out – more specifically rolls out – to voice his dissent.
Don Callis: You have
got to be kidding me! [Callis looks back and nods in the direction of the ring, a direction for his lackey to push him down the ramp.] This is a
blatant conspiracy, perpetrated by a man with no confidence in his representative champion, and assisted by a corrupt, highly biased network executive with no discernible authority here at a pay-per-view, and a back-alley charlatan with a degree from a diploma farm to support their dubious claims! You're trying to undermine the confidence and the preparedness of Christopher Daniels with this transparent power play! I will not stand by and watch an obvious
coup de tat happen in front of my eyes that puts me in the crosshairs! I will not!
Jim Cornette: Every time I think your IQ has sunk as low as it can go, you find a way to drill a little deeper. You can't sell your PPV's without the network. What happens here affects the investment that the network has put into your little dog and pony show. So if you wanna bury your head in the lowest layer of prehistoric frog shit at the bottom of a New Jersey scum swamp, be my guest. But this man [points at Heyman] has a vested interest in the outcome of that Trios match, especially if Eddie Kingston wins. And [points at the doctor] that man's word is law around here. If he says a man can't go, then a man can't go. Now, are you telling me that a little time shift is so challenging for your champion, he can't handle it? Is that a forfeit?
Callis: No! No! That's not what I'm saying! I'm saying – You're twisting what –
Cornette: Like it or not, the unification match happens
now, Don. I'd suggest removing Christopher's lips from your ass and getting him in the ring
now. Before I call it a forfeit.
Callis's sneer screws his face into something barely recognizable as human, as if hate had a face of its own. He orders the attendant to push him into place at ringside, while Heyman takes his place on the other side of the announce table. With that, the lights dim for the intros of the champions, who get the super-special main-event introductions after they've entered the ring. Streamers are thrown from the crowd for Eddie Kingston, who looks at his FTW Championship belt, possibly for the last time, and kisses it before handing it to the referee. Daniels is reluctant to give up the ROH World Championship, but Callis finally convinces him to hand it over and let the match proceed. Daniels gets no such royal treatment from the fans; in fact, the crowd chants for Eddie Kingston instead as he tries to play to them. They meet in the center of the ring and, to everyone's amazement, Daniels offers a hand. Kingston looks at it, looks to the crowd on the left and right, who yell at Kingston not to take the handshake.
Manning: Kingston's considering it.
JBL: It'd be the classy thing to do.
Manning: Kingston really drawing this out … BACKFIST TO THE FUTURE! BACKFIST TO THE FUTURE CONNECTS! KINGSTON WITH THE COVER! THIS COULD BE OVER RIGHT NOW!
1 …
2 …
KICKOUT AT 2 ½! Kingston measures, waiting for Daniels to get to his feet … Sliding D levels Daniels like a runaway train! Another cover!
1 …
2 …
Kickout at 2 ½ again! Kingston yells out “we're goin' old school!” and picks up Daniels. Royal Flush DDT! Kingston pins Daniels Goldberg-style …
1 …
2 …
2 ¾! Daniels kicks out AGAIN! Kingston pulls down the straps … cinches a rear waistlock, looking for the backdrop driver. Daniels flips out! LAST RITES OUT OF NOWHERE! Kingston rolls out of the ring to clear out the cobwebs, leaning on the apron head-down. Daniels gets back to his feet … baseball slide in Kingston's face! Daniels bounces Kingston's head off the apron a couple times, then drapes him over the barricade with an inverted suplex. DDT off the barricade to the arena floor! Daniels rolls in and back out to break the count and unceremoniously stomps Kingston on the floor before throwing him back in the ring.
Back in the ring, Daniels gets a chance to work over Kingston a little, focusing on the head and neck, starting with a sweet 1-2 punch of a stun gun and a neckbreaker, but that barely gets two. A hard whip into the corner chest-first sends Kingston back into the arms of Daniels for a German suplex that dumps Kingston right on his head, which also just barely gets two. A whip into the ropes sets up a Death Valley driver, and immediately Daniels goes to the corner. BEST. MOONSAULT. EVER! But Kingston gets his knees up! Kingston kicks at Daniels' knees … gets up and with a burst of energy hits the ropes … AMERICAN D! Kingston stands up, stalking Daniels, waiting for him to get up … BACKFIST TO THE FUTURE IS CAUGHT! Reverse STO by Daniels, into the Koji Clutch! Kingston struggles to get out, but Daniels has it cinched in tight. He tries repositioning his lower body, moving it closer to the ropes, so Daniels cranks back extra hard, but Kingston is not a man to quit, and eventually gets his feet under the ropes, forcing the break.
Daniels is up first and lights up Kingston's chest with chops, but finds out in short order that going toe to toe with Kingston in a striking match is a fool's errand. They trade chops, literally one for one for a good minute, turning each other's chests into criss-crossing maps of red. When it's all said and done, Kingston is the winner, backing up Daniels into a corner and just lighting him up with Kobashi-style frenzied chops. And when that's done, Kingston goes into a Delirious-style series of rapid-fire corner clotheslines! After all that punishment, Daniels collapses to the mat, just in time to get a running face-wash. Kingston makes the cover, but only gets two. Kingston picks up Daniels and puts him on the top turnbuckle … but Daniels elbows him in the head a couple times! Kingston won't drop down, so Daniels bends him over real quick … SUNSET FLIP POWERBOMB! Spiked right on the neck and shoulders! BEST! MOONSAULT! EVER!
1 …
2 …
KICKOUT AT 2 ½! Daniels can't believe that didn't score the win! Daniels rolls Kingston onto his stomach and hits half a dozen leg drops to the back of Kingston's head! He pulls Kingston off the mat, holding his head … trapped-head knee strikes! Kingston is jelly-legged as Daniels is peppering him with knees to the head! ANGEL'S WINGS!
1 …
2 …
NO! 2 ¾! Daniels gets up and yells at Cornette for “not doing [his] job right” and jabs a finger in his chest … and Cornette slaps the plaque off Daniels' teeth! Cornette walks over to the announce side and looks right at Callis.
Cornette: He so much as farts my way, and I'll disqualify him and end your sorry ass! Got it? [Looks at Daniels.] You got it too? Now do your job!
Daniels turns around into a SICKENING lariat that sends him through the ropes! Kingston follows, grabs a bottle of water off the announce table and takes a swig … and spits it in Callis' face! Kingston turns just in time to catch an attempted kick by Daniels, and turns it into a capture suplex! Daniels hits the barricade like a bug hitting a windshield. Callis screams at Daniels to get up, but the only way he does is with Kingston's help. Kingston puts Daniels on the barricade, straddling it like a saddle … running elbow to the face! Daniels falls into the front row, and Kingston breaks the count real quick. In that time, Daniels somehow manages to get to his feet, although he's as wobbly and disoriented as he can be … Kingston reaches over and pulls Daniels back over from behind with a full nelson. FORWARD RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP INTO THE RINGPOST!!! Kingston has to pick up Daniels' dead weight and roll it in to make the cover.
1 …
2 …
NO! Somehow, Daniels kicks out at 2.999! Kingston's jaw comes unhinged! He stands above Daniels, looking down at him like he's not human. Kingston gets Daniels up on his feet and has him bent over … out of nowhere Daniels pops up! BACKFIST TO THE FUTURE BY DANIELS! Daniels collapses on Kingston!
1 …
2 …
2.99! Kingston came a hair's breadth from losing to his own move! Still laying on the mat, Daniels throws weak hammer-fists at Kingston, almost on auto-pilot. Daniels pulls himself up with the turnbuckle, Kingston gets up under his own power and is still a little fresher … Kingston rushes Daniels … Daniels moves out of the way! German by Daniels with the bridge, just like Survival Of The Fittest!
1 …
2 …
Kingston kicks out at 2.99! Daniels wastes no time, picks up Kingston, whips him into the ropes … STO! BEST! MOONSAULT! EVER! But Daniels doesn't bother with the pinfall, he gestures that he's had enough and he's ending it. Picks up Kingston, underhooks the arms … Kingston pushes Daniels back into the corner. A couple shoulder blocks to the gut by Kingston … Kingston pimp-slaps Daniels! Daniels' eyes flare, and suddenly, it's a slugfest! Nobody's backing down as they throw so many punches, their arms are blurs … and it's Daniels who wins the fight! More punches, but Kingston catches Daniels' kick attempt … enzuigiri! Kingston staggers around … BACKFIST TO THE FUTURE AGAIN BY DANIELS! Kingston spins around and staggers back to the turnbuckle, head down. Daniels gets out, climbs the turnbuckle from the outside and leans down to pull Kingston up.
SUPER ANGEL'S WINGS! The crowd is going out of their minds, alternating between chanting “this is awesome” and “please kick out”. Daniels with the cover!
1 …
2 …
3!!! NO!!! Callis actually gets up and forgets his “crippling neck injury”, protesting the call! Cornette says it's two, and the replay shows it's two, but literally by milliseconds. Daniels pulls at hair he doesn't have, a look of fear in his eyes for an opponent that refuses to die … and is in fact stirring! Kingston grabs onto the ropes and gets to his knees … and gestures for Daniels to bring it! Daniels kicks Kingston in the face, grabs him by the head … Kingston pops up! Kick to the gut … ANGEL'S WINGS BY KINGSTON! Daniels is dead as a doornail on the mat, and Kingston drapes an arm over him!
1 …
2 …
3?!? NO! Just as close as it was for Daniels, it is for Kingston! Kingston picks up, whips Daniels, bends down … Daniels kicks him in the face! Paint-brushing by Daniels! Kingston stops it and returns the favor! Slaps and chops, rapid-fire … BACKFIST TO THE FUTURE ONE MORE TIME! NO, CAUGHT! REVERSE STO INTO THE KOJI CLUTCH AGAIN! Center of the ring, nowhere to go! Daniels puts every remaining ounce of strength into it! Kingston is screaming in pain, trying to find a way to twist his body to the ropes, but it's too far! Heyman is on his feet, willing Kingston not to tap, and the crowd chants “please don't tap”! Callis tells Daniels to “rip his head off”, and it's exactly what it looks like Daniels is trying to do, choking the life out of Kingston moment by moment. The screams get softer, but Kingston refuses to tap, no matter how many times Cornette asks if he wants to surrender. After a solid minute in the hold, Kingston isn't moving anymore and isn't making a sound … Cornette checks the arm once … it drops like a rock in a lake.
Second time … dead weight.
From outside, Callis is yelling “call it!”. Cornette gives him the dirtiest of looks, then grabs the arm. He holds onto it for what seems like forever, but is only a few seconds. The entire audience seems to hold their breath …
… and they exhale in disappointment when it hits the mat!
Heyman is too stunned to move, too distraught to do anything, as his renegade promotion, borne out of rebellion, is snuffed out, and Eddie Kingston's long, complicated, disputed title reign comes to an end, along with Evolution Pro Wrestling. Callis demands the FTW Championship belt from the timekeeper and a mic.
Callis: You will
never see this blasphemous piece of garbage on television again! Let there be no doubt anymore what a fraud Eddie Kingston was as a so-called champion, and who the one, true, undisputed champion truly is! Christopher Daniels is an 'Angel Reborn'! Ring Of Honor is a promotion reborn! Honor Guard! Come forth and help our champion, the Ring Of Honor Undisputed World Champion, to the back for his celebration! [Callis turns to his assistant.] Help me into that ring. I have business to conduct. ***
Winner: Christopher Daniels (passed out in Koji Clutch)
Quality: 80
Crowd: 83
Overall: 82
9th segment
Trios Tournament finals, elimination match
The Line In The Sand vs. The Lone Wolves
[/center]
Callis: Line In The Sand. Out here.
Now.Paul Burchill and Ruckus come out, Burchill walking with a limp thanks to the baseball bat attack from earlier, and Ruckus holding his ribs. Callis doesn't even let them get down the aisle all the way before stopping them.
Callis: Stop. Stop, stop, stop … where's Mr. Whitmer? Where's your lead crusader? [Callis only lets a couple heartbeats go by before snapping.]
WHERE IS HE?!? It's bad enough I have to sit here and watch you and that other team of miscreants fight so you can run amok in
my promotion … but to have that knuckle-dragging simpleton slow down the process –
Whitmer comes through the curtains, and saying he looks awful is an understatement. His eyes are glassy, he wobbles when he walks; in short, he looks as though an average wind might send him tumbling off his feet. Nevertheless, he makes his way down the ramp, passing his teammates, who stay on the ramp.
Callis: So nice of you to join us, Mr. Whitmer. I was just telling your associates –
Cornette: [grabbing the mic out of Callis' hands] Are you out of your friggin' mind? The man could be an albino! He can't walk straight, he can barely hold his head up, and you think he's gonna wrestle?! No way. Over my dead –
Whitmer: Let's do it.
Callis and Cornette: What?!
Whitmer: I'm not … I'm … this ain't ending like this. Not a forfeit. Goin' down swinging. No other way.
Both men are surprised, Cornette because of Whitmer's nobility, and Callis because he was hoping for a different outcome. Cornette puts a hand on Whitmer's shoulder.
Cornette: Son, nobody's gonna look down on you. You lost an ocean of blood. An hour and a half nap and some orange juice isn't enough to cure what ails you tonight. You need rest. You probably need to see the sawbones and get a pint or two. You go into that ring and fight, and you're guaranteeing an injury. Maybe brain damage. I know you got a lot of pride, but there's a time, son when –
Whitmer: I'm not your son, and I'm not going to the back, Jim, so just sit down already! I'm doing … [Whitmer shakes his head, which only makes him more woozy.] I'm doing this! I have to! It's the w-- w-- …
Whitmer starts to drop; Ruckus and Burchill catch him and hold him up. When Whitmer can pick up his head again, he looks right at Cornette, and the fire in his eyes says it all. Cornette levels a finger at Burchill and Ruckus.
Cornette: So help me God, if you two leave him in there to die … so help me God.
Burchill and Ruckus both swear they won't let Whitmer get hurt and go to their corner. Whitmer leans on the ropes, head down on the turnbuckle, a clear statement that Ruckus and Burchill are going to carry the load themselves. The Lone Wolves are introduced one by one, and there's a little glint in their eyes as they stand on the precipice of what is now, in a practical sense if not an official capacity, a 3-on-2 handicap elimination tag match.
Ruckus kicks it off against Cage, with Cage trying to take Ruckus down with his pure scientific ability, and Ruckus trying to bring his hybrid brawling and MMA to beat the bejeezus out of Cage. The one-upsmanship gets so intense that neither man even tries to tag out for the seven or so minutes they go at it, despite Burchill nearly coming out of his skin, begging for a tag when Cage has the advantage. With the numbers advantage, Orton and Hero don't show the same immediate concern for their teammate, especially since Cage holds his own against the versatile fighter. Even when Ruckus manages to rock Cage in the head with a jumping kick and Cage only kicks out at 2 ½, there's no urgency from the other Wolves.
The final sequence sees Cage score with a frog splash and get a close two-count. Sensing the end is near, Cage picks up Ruckus and grabs his arms, setting up for the Killswitch. But Ruckus gets his arms free right before Cage can drop down, grabs Cage's legs, and stands up with Cage on his shoulders.
Manning: Cage in a dangerous spot here … electric chair face-buster! Tazmission! Tazmission! Ruckus has that deadly choke hold locked in and he's got the body scissors to boot!
JBL: There's no getting out of this!
Manning: Cage has to tap, and this match is evened up at--
JBL: Manning, look! Orton's in the ring already! The Viper's looking to strike!
Manning: RKO on Ruckus! He turned right into it! Orton makes the cover … and just like that, Ruckus is gone! It's 2-on-2 now, but with Whitmer's condition, it's 2-on-1!
Burchill comes in just as quick and goes right after Orton, knowing he has to strike hard, strike fast and take as little damage as possible to stay alive, since his partner is dead weight. But after Ruckus' hard-fought elimination of Cage, Orton and Hero decide it's time to function as a team again and give Burchill the Ricky Morton treatment, without a Robert Gibson waiting in the wings. Hero utilizes his plethora of cravate-based offense and elbow strikes to keep Burchill reeling, while Orton methodically chips away at him, alternating between impact moves and making Burchill work to breathe through wear-down holds. Whitmer watches, wanting to tag in, but it's obvious he's tapping a dry well, even if Burchill could reach him.
Around thirteen minutes in, Orton whips Burchill into the ropes and goes for his signature fade-away powerslam. Only Burchill holds onto the ropes when Orton goes into the motion. Orton face-plants himself, and Burchill, with whatever fumes are left in the tank, moves quick, grabbing Orton's arms and hitting the curb stomp! Hero comes in now, and gets back body dropped over the top! Burchill with the cover, and Orton gets eliminated! Hero is all by himself!
But Hero wastes no time getting back in the ring, stomping on Burchill before he can even roll off Orton, then dragging him to his feet. Death Is Welcome! Hero isn't messing around! Hero holds up his arm and pats his elbow, and the crowd is electric! Hero stalks his prey, Burchill gets to his feet … roaring elbow is ducked! C4 by Burchill, countered by elbows to the head! SHORT-ARM ROARING ELBOW! Hero with the cover and the crowd counts along …
1 …
2 …
NO! Burchill kicks out! Hero picks up Burchill, puts on an inverted headlock … Burchill turns around in it! C4 BY BURCHILL! The cover!
1 …
2 …
HERO STAYS ALIVE! Burchill up to his feet now … SOLE FOOD! Hero is staggering, and Burchill gets back up to go in for the kill … CYCLONE KILL BY HERO! Both men collapse to the mat! The ref starts to the 10-count!
1 …
2 …
3 … stirrings from both men …
4 …
5 … Hero up on one elbow, Burchill trying to push himself up to his knees …
6 …
7 … Hero rolls over and is up on both elbows, while one of Burchill's arms slips …
8 … Hero gets his knees under him …
9 … Burchill collapses as Hero gets his feet planted … he's spaghetti-legged, but he's up …
Manning: Ten! That's ten! Burchill's out by knock-out! Hero's won this!
JBL: No he hasn't, Manning! There's still one man left, BJ Whitmer!
Manning: BJ Whitmer is in no condition to fight, John, you damned well know that! Besides, even if they were, the contract to their last match says unless they agree to it, they
cannot fight each other again!
JBL: What're we gonna do then, sit here in a Mexican stand-off till the end of time?!?
Whitmer manages to get in the ring, but even the simple acting of walking is above and beyond his abilities right now. Hero isn't much better, having taken enough punishment in one evening. When he looks across the ring and sees his old nemesis standing at the ready for a fight while barely able to keep his head up, Hero's hands go up … and then drop. Hero walks over to the ropes and asks for a mic, talking between breaths.
Hero: You'd really try to fight me right now, wouldn't you? [Whitmer responds with a weak, half-of-a-half-hearted “come on” gesture.] Jesus, man … I mean, forget all the times I beat you before. You bled out not two hours ago! I mean … dude, Stevie Wonder can keep his eyes open easier than you right now! [Whitmer says as loud as he can that he isn't walking away. Hero sighs] This means that much to you. You'd risk your health … your career … [Hero pauses.] You … you really weren't kidding, were you? When you said this was all about doing the right thing? That this was about helping ROH, and not some vendetta ride. You really meant every word. There isn't a bone in your body that wants vengeance, on Callis or Pearce or any of them. [Hero shakes his head and chuckles. He looks up at Whitmer, and there's no change in the eyes of the man often called the beating heart of ROH. The flesh may be weak, but his eyes say the spirit is willing to fight to the end, and a step beyond that too. Hero approaches Whitmer.] What I want is not what we need. [Hero offers a hand.] I know you're being all noble with this crusade, but if you could do me a solid and give Pearce a size-11 vasectomy, I'd appreciate it. The idea of him breeding … eww.
Whitmer looks down at the hand, back up at Hero. Back down at the hand. Back up at Hero once more. It actually looks like he's on the brink of tears. Whitmer's hands – still in a defensive posture – finally drop. Hero emphasizes his extended hand. Whitmer offers thanks and takes the hand. And then, for a moment, Hero clinches it hard.
Hero: Don't make me regret this, BJ. Take care of business.
Hero lets go and leaves the ring, turning around and clapping. The ref makes the academic count, officially counting Hero out of the match, as Callis flips his lid, trying to stop the inevitable. When the ref gets to the end of his count, Hero points at Whitmer from the stage and yells out “be the man”. Whitmer, having held himself up by the ropes during the ref's count, collapses to his knees as the crowd chants “thank you Hero”. Callis yells and screams and tries arguing with Cornette, but there's nothing he can do but watch as Whitmer basks in the afterglow. **3/4
Winners: The Line In The Sand
Quality: 78
Crowd: 82
Overall: 80
Overall show rating: 79