Bash at the Beach 2000.
Our show begins with Commissioner Ernest "The Cat" Miller advising some other random black guy that he needs to get the Filthy Animals and "the M.I.As" and tell them to not interfere in the Cruiserweight match. I'm waiting for this to lead to something. Soon, the Yung Dragons appear and begin some of the worst-choreographed fight sequences I've ever seen, and we're talking a promotion which had the Fingerpoke of Doom. And they get destroyed as soon as I typed that. So, if this waste of my life is any indication of what's going to go down? I'm royally screwed.
Late 90s techno-rock blares through my speakers as we go inside the Ocean Center for BaTB. So, out of the seven Bashes we've had, only one's actually happened on the beach. That's like naming a pay-per-view Hell in a Cell and having one cell ma...oh, yeah. Anyhow, our first match of the night is Lt. Loco (Chavo Guerrero for those who forgot how this crap went down) versus Juventud Guerrera for the Cruiserweight championship. The match starts off hot, as most WCW Cruiserweight matches tended to. And then it falls apart.
Mark Madden says he doesn't know what "mano y mano" means as Juvy feigns a nutshot injury (oh, WCW. You and your love of penis humor and/or penis). We go back in-ring only to go back outside. Juvy begs for forgiveness, which (of course, because wrestling) leads to a turnbuckle attack and a taunt. I'm ten minutes in and I'm already bored. Chavo gets a near-fall and an armbar (insert Chris Jericho joke here). Lots of reversal flippy shit later and both M.I.A. and the Filthy Animals try some sort of "oh, we're in masks. They'll never know who we are" foolishness. I admittedly fell asleep for a bit during this match, but when I came to, Chavo got the win from a tornado DDT.
Next? Big Vito versus Norman Smiley and Ralphus in a handicap match for the Hardcore Championship. Oh Hayzeus. Can we stop with this crap? No? Well, at least Ralphus can swing a trashcan this time around. They fight everywhere, because HARDCORE RASSLIN'!, and ultimately The Big Stupid gets put through a table by Big Vito. It's no wonder people thought Ralphus died after WCW went under.
Next? Daffney versus Miss Handcock/Stacy Keibler in a Wedding Gown match where there are no losers, only winners. This is probably the only bright spot of the night so far. Plus, it gives me a reason to post this without feeling like I'm just trying to get the Fap-o-meter up.
Oh, wait. Stacy's in granny panties. Let's adjust that once for a second.
Next, we get some more ignorance with the Jung Dragons trying to avoid Ernest Miller. BECAUSE
After this shitload of fuck (thank you, Angry Video Game Nerd), we get The Perfect Event versus Kronik for the tag team titles. The Perfect Event, for those who don't remember, were a tag team formed by Shawk Stasiak and Chuck Palumbo who "stole" the Mr. Perfect and Lex Luger gimmicks. Yeah. That happened. You know what makes less sense than that? This match. It's boring as watching a can of paint with those "Geico stack of dollars" googly-eyes watching paint dry. Actually, that's a compliment. This match set a new low for boredom. Kronik regains the belts and we're back to losing again.
Afterwards we have a match where Booker T goes Super Saiyan and gets...a two-count and a loss for his troubles. This sets up the rest of the clusterbomb that's awaiting me, but still. I guess John Cena-era WWE isn't to blame for the multi-finisher-but-still-only-get-a-two-count bullshit we see so much of today. Ah well.
Our next match-up is a SCOTT FRIGGIN' STEINER match for the US Title versus Mike Awesome. Too bad his Steiner Recliner is outlawed. Which, of course, means that he's going to use it, because wrestling logic always dictates that whatever is outlawed/banned in the ring (in storylines, by the way) usually finds its way into the ring, especially if it's a signature of the wrestler in question. Steiner wins, gets stripped of the belt, and no one gives two craps.
I'm skipping over the Graveyard Match for one reason. You couldn't pay me to watch that shit with a straight face. At least everything else so far, while putrid, I've been able to sit here and actually somewhat critique. This match was pointless. I think even WCW knew it was pointless. I mean, why the hell else would it be mostly in the dark?
SWERVE ALERT!!! Buff Bagwell gets betrayed by Torrie Wilson and doesn't take the pin right after. Yep, we have a Buff Bagwell match on this PPV, even after his racially-charged moments off-screen. Vince, take note. This is how you book a racially-insensitive person, not fire them. Sarcasm aside, this match blows.
And here comes the clusterfuck heard around the world, in a PPV which seems like it's been on for days at this point.
After this elongated Destructo Disk, Goldberg beats Kevin Nash (and gets rid of the "contracts" Nash and Scott Hall had with WCW). Oh, and Booker T becomes WCW World Heavyweight Champion. The win was devalued by this pissing contest between Hulk Hogan and Vince Russo, shoot, work, or otherwise. The Hulk/Russo feud made Booker into a bit of a weak champion in the sense that he got his shot only because Russo, in the confines of the storyline, willed it into existence just to piss off Hulk. Not to mention Booker T got EL KABONGO'ed by Double J earlier in the night.
So, was it really that bad? If you've got to ask me that, my only reaction is this:
Once again, I'm Speed on the Beat and I review the crap so you don't have to.
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