A Detailed Review of the 1992 WWF Royal Rumble Match, Part 3 of 4

[This is a continuation of previous work. Part 1 of the article is available here:
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/7863242/a_detailed_review_of_the_1992_wwf_royal_pg11.html?cat=14
Part 2 is available here:
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/8574619/a_detailed_review_of_the_1992_wwf_royal.html?cat=14]


Now Piper wasn't the first wrestler to dabble in acting. Heck, Piper's uncredited screen debut was in 1978's The One and Only , which also featured wrestling legends Gene LeBell and Chavo Guerrero, Sr. He wasn't even first among wrestlers concurrently on the WWE roster, as Andre the Giant had played a number of roles (including the role of Bigfoot on The Six Million Dollar Man ) before then. But no wrestler had ever been the starring actor in a movie that was actually… you know… good. At least not until 1988, when Piper played the lead in John Carpenter's sci-fi cult classic They Live . All of which is to say that Rowdy Roddy Piper would have been an incredibly deserving champion, and the New York crowd of 17,000 was firmly behind him that night. Piper was at a bit of a disadvantage having wrestled earlier in the night; he pinned The Mountie to win the Intercontinental Championship. That belt is regarded as a second-tier title today, but at the time owning the Intercontinental Championship was a very big deal indeed.

Flair is already begging for mercy before Piper even climbs between the ropes. One thing about Hot Rod - when he was playing a face, the man never failed to energize a crowd. Gorilla Monsoon declares that Piper is "going bananas," and that was an utterly perfect description for the flurry that Piper is raining down on Flair. Piper delivers multiple running knee lifts, left jabs, right hooks, a whip into the turnbuckle, and a big backdrop in the time it takes you to read this sentence. Heenan declares that the proceedings aren't "fair to Flair" (I warned you… he buries that line tonight) as the Nature Boy rolls out of the ring to catch his breath. Piper is having none of it, though. In all seriousness, Piper is working at basically a dead sprint this entire time. I'm exhausted just watching him.

Piper chases Flair around the ring to deliver a clothesline, and after a short burst of moves, Piper heeds the referees and rolls Ric back in. The next few seconds are kind of interesting - I'm not exactly sure what happened, but it looked like a miscommunication of some sort. While Piper stands on the apron, trying to reenter the squared circle, Flair catches him and appears to attempt a guillotine-type move wherein Piper's throat would be pulled down across the top rope. Flair sells the move by grabbing Piper's head and falling flat onto the ground, but Piper apparently has no desire to let Flair have a turn at offense just yet. Piper throws Flair into a turnbuckle and climbs to the middle rope, and the audience counts along as Piper drives his knuckles repeatedly into Flair's scalp. Flair again tries to turn the tables, this time by carrying Piper to the middle of the ring and delivering a "reverse atomic drop" (this move could also be called "knee, meet testicles"). But Piper again no-sells the move, landing on his feet (instead of groin-first onto Flair's knee), and goes right back to pummeling Flair. Piper picks him up in a fireman's carry, which he then transitions into an airplane spin. Finally, Piper locks in a sleeper hold on his discombobulated opponent - Flair is completely out as the timer winds down again.

Out comes Jake "The Snake" Roberts, albeit without his trademark boa constrictor Damien. Alas, the storyline the year prior was that Damien had been squished by 400+ pound wrestler John Tenta (wrestling as the appropriately named character Earthquake), then grilled and fed to commentator Lord Alfred Hayes. At the time the 1992 Royal Rumble aired, Roberts was in a feud with Randy "Macho Man" Savage; at one point Roberts forced a cobra (which had been devenomized, of course) to bite Savage. WWE President Jack Tunney then banned Jake from ever bringing a snake to the ring again.

Much like Piper, Roberts was known for his abilities on the microphone, but The Snake came with a totally different energy. Piper's interviews were frenetic and packed with manic energy, where Roberts' were dark and brooding. Sadly, while numerous wrestlers from this era (hell, numerous wrestlers from this match ) have since passed away, Roberts may have had the most renowned bout with substance abuse of any of them. If any of you have seen the documentary Beyond the Mat , you know a little of Roberts' backstory - he had a poor relationship with his father, his sister was murdered while he was young, and he spent years estranged from his daughter. After decades of alcoholism and pill addiction, Roberts was an absolute mess. There's a video from the 1999 independent pay-per-view "Heroes of Wrestling" which explains more in three minutes than I'll ever be able to with words. Roberts eventually went out and exposed himself (using his snake to simulate a giant phallus) to the audience while flailing his way through an abortion of a match. But before that, he taped that now-legendary interview - below is a transcript of the most nonsensical portion:

" You don't wanna play cards with me, because I'll cheat, okay? I cheat! You wanna play 21? I got 22. You wanna play blackjack? I got two of those, too. You wanna play aces-and-eights? Baby, I got too many of those too!"

If you didn't begin watching wrestling until the 1990s, you may remember Roberts only as a slow, bloated, mumbling alcoholic who personified everything you found boring about sports entertainment. For those of us a little older, we remember a master of in-ring psychology. Roberts makes eye contact with Piper, who's still got Flair locked in the sleeper hold, on his way down the ramp. Roberts spreads his arms in the universal "be my guest!" gesture, then rolls into the ring and slithers into a corner, content to sit comfortably and watch Flair getting punished.

The WWE has never been an organization which rewards subtlety. Professional wrestling aficionados are spoon-fed storylines and characters' motivations. The general assumption among writers and performers seems to be that we won't be able to recognize good guys and bad guys if we aren't given a (metaphorical) giant neon arrow pointing out which one is which. One of my favorite Superstars of all time is Adam "Edge" Copeland, but I once read a scathing critique of one of his mainstream (non-wrestling) acting performances which really hit home. The reviewer savaged Edge for his "bug-eyed histrionics" that might play well "to a yokel watching from the 70th row of a packed arena" but just looked ridiculous on film. I'm not necessarily saying I agree with that critic… but I see his point. But Jake Roberts? Man, when he was focused, he acted in a way which was just more advanced than anybody else. Other 1980s wrestlers were playing cartoon characters, but Roberts (in both his interviews and his in-ring game) was playing the heavy in an HBO drama.

Roberts' simple interaction with Piper to begin his stint in the Rumble - the eye contact outside the ring, the single subdued gesture, seating himself in the corner as if he were completely carefree - to once again paraphrase Michael Cole, that was vintage Jake the Snake. And of course it's all a set-up for the inevitable double-cross; Piper trusts Roberts enough to turn his back for a split second, and Roberts springs into action. Notice the punches that Roberts is throwing at Piper, and compare them to every other wrestler's strikes. Some guys throw ridiculous, looping punches like boxers in a Rocky movie (e.g. Texas Tornado), some guys use throw chops with the palms of their hands because they land with a noise that makes you shudder (e.g. Ric Flair or Haku). Other guys change up their strikes so they'll be distinctive from everyone else's (e.g. Greg Valentine's elbow), and finally there are guys who throw horrible-looking punches (or worse, "European uppercuts" with their forearm) because they're too lazy, too uncoordinated, too unimaginative, or in the case of Hercules a couple of entrants ago, too freaking bulky to do anything else. Jake Roberts? He threw punches like he'd just caught you trying to break into his daughter's bedroom.

With Piper temporarily incapacitated, Roberts stalks over to a grateful Flair, who raises both hands in a gesture which simultaneously represents a double high-five and a request to be picked up. Roberts obliges, and everybody in the arena expects another patented Flair double-cross. But Jake the Snake isn't the Barbarian; Jake has games of his own. Before Flair can put whatever he was planning into motion, Roberts delivers a short clothesline and knocks Flair back onto the mat. Piper recovers enough to very slowly pull himself to his feet, then attacks Roberts.

After another lament that this isn't "fair to Flair," Heenan fires off some of the most comical commentary in WWE history. For years he'd mocked Roddy Piper's choice of attire - Piper, in a nod to his Scottish heritage, frequently wore a kilt. When Piper made the save by knocking down Roberts, Heenan yells:

" I never thought I'd say this, but thank you, Roddy! It's a kilt! It's not a skirt, it's a kilt!"

Flair then puts Roberts in his patented figure four leglock, using the ropes to raise his body in the air (increasing his leverage and causing even more pain to the helpless Roberts). Piper briefly magnifies Roberts' misery by stomping on his abdomen, but then Piper begins stomping Flair as well. This leads to Heenan's immediate rebuttal of his own words:

" Why, you no-good creep! You skirt-wearing freak! It's not a kilt, it's a skirt!"

Piper can't keep both men down forever, of course, and soon the match becomes something akin to one of Peckinpah's Mexican standoffs. Piper kicks Roberts and punches Flair, then Flair punches Piper and chops Roberts, then the Snake finally gets a chance to fire off some right hands. One of those blows pushes Piper's body against the ropes, and he and Roberts are tussling as the countdown clock reaches 10 seconds. Fan favorite "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan (with his signature 2′ by 4′ plank of wood in his hand) stomps to the ring and immediately attacks Flair with right hands and an awkward looking clothesline, then turns to the crowd and screams "Hoooooooooooooo!"

Jim Duggan is the first entrant into this event who had actually won a previous iteration of it - he was the victor of the inaugural Royal Rumble in 1988. Interestingly, while Duggan is one of the best remembered WWE wrestlers of the 1980s (and a recently announced member of the 2011 Hall of Fame class), that Royal Rumble was really the only thing he won during his time in the organization. He was never Heavyweight Champion, nor Intercontinental Champion, nor a Tag Team Champion, nor even a Hardcore Champion. By the time this pay-per-view occurred, he'd been portraying an ultra-patriotic, lovable buffoon for several years.

There are many, many wrestling gimmicks that worked in the 1980s that could never be accepted today. I'm convinced that Duggan's character is the opposite: he has the Universal Gimmick. Duggan's interviews were more or less unintelligible - he ranted loudly for a minute or so, then started chanting "U-S-A! U-S-A!" like a drunk guy at the Little League World Series. He was pitted almost exclusively against foreign heels - I remember him best for his feuds with the Iron Sheik, the aforementioned Nikolai Volkoff, Jacques Rougeau, Dino Bravo, and Yokozuna.

Duggan had an underwhelming body, a moderately challenged command of the English language, the sort of hair you snicker at when you see a middle-aged man wearing that style at Wal-Mart… yet he was undeniably always popular. And that character would have been every bit as popular in the 1950s or facing off against Sheamus today. Only one man kept Hacksaw Jim Duggan from becoming an Intercontinental Champion in the late 1980s… himself.

Wrestling was quite a bit different 25 years ago, but the biggest difference was that its performers were expected to keep "kayfabe," an industry term which simply means they were never supposed to acknowledge that anything in professional wrestling was predetermined or choreographed. This seems ridiculous today, when every wrestler has a Twitter feed wherein he/she regularly discusses the difference between their real lives and their professional personas. But before wrestlers began writing best-selling autobiographies, and before there were dozens of websites discussing the scripted results of matches weeks in advance, many (perhaps most) fans thought that everything they were seeing was totally genuine. In 1987, Jim Duggan was arrested in New Jersey for driving under the influence of marijuana and alcohol (with cocaine present in the car). The WWE would have frowned on this, of course, but it wasn't a fatal offense. However, Duggan was driving around with the Iron Sheik, the very man with whom he was having a feud at the time. You can't break kayfabe in a more obvious fashion than driving around doing drugs with your in-ring opponent from that night. Duggan and the Iron Sheik were both immediately removed from WWE television, and although Duggan was rehired relatively quickly, I think his career was never quite the same.

By 1992, Duggan was on his way out. A few months after the Royal Rumble, he was relegated to "enhancement talent" status, and soon thereafter left for World Championship Wrestling. But for the moment, he's a house of fire, pummeling Flair and Roberts before having his offense arrested by Roddy Piper (who was no doubt displeased that Duggan had appropriated his mullet and style of trunks). Duggan begins hitting shoulder blocks on Piper in a corner, and Flair looked like he wanted to take advantage of Piper's misfortune, but Piper turned the tables on "the dirtiest player in the game" with a nonchalant eye poke. As Duggan throws right hooks at Roberts, Piper works over Flair in the opposite corner. Suddenly Flair and Roberts each hit a reversal (Flair with a suplex and Roberts with a reverse atomic drop), but both are so exhausted that they collapse to the mat at the same time as their opponents. We have four men all on their backs, and who's the first one up? Ric Flair. The man's stamina a month before his 43rd birthday was ridiculous. Flair and Piper exchange a few loud chops before they're interrupted by Duggan and Roberts (respectively). Heenan again declares the proceedings unfair to Flair as the timer counts down, and Irwin R. Schyster slowly, coldly, and confidently walks to the ring.

Mike Rotunda was a familiar face to WWE fans before he ever assumed this most recent persona. He teamed with Barry Windham in the mid-1980s as the U.S. Express, former Tag Team champions, and (perhaps most memorably) the original owners of Hulk Hogan's "I Am a Real American" entrance music. Rotunda later starred in the rival National Wrestling Alliance, eventually creating a character named Michael Wallstreet which was … well, it's a bit difficult to picture, but he played sort of a hulking, menacing version of Gordon Gekko, Michael Douglas' iconic character from Wall Street. The character had a lot going for it, but an imaginative name was not among its virtues.

Rotunda returned to the WWE in 1991, and he brought Wallstreet's general mannerisms with him. The gimmick was modified slightly - instead of a businessman, he became a tax collector named Irwin R. Schyster (whose initials, of course, are I.R.S.). Schyster and the Million Dollar Man had recently formed a tag team and had already won and lost the Tag Team Championship once before the 1992 Royal Rumble aired. Schyster certainly made for a unique-looking figure, wrestling in a button-down shirt, slacks, a tie, and suspenders.

In stark contrast to the traditional Royal Rumble approach, Schyster does not enter the ring with a spirited attack. Instead, he takes a few calculated shots at Flair, then avoids a face-to-face altercation with Duggan. Duggan chases him down, though, and holds Schyster in place by his tie for long enough to hit a few punches. On the side of the ring nearest the camera, Roberts and Flair have Piper's entire body hung up along the top rope, struggling to push him out. Duggan wanders over and grabs Flair and Roberts by the hair, then screams "Hooooo!" to the heavens and knocks their skulls together (Flair Flop Alert!). Schyster takes this opportunity to attack the still-vulnerable Piper, but Duggan comes over to bat him away as well; somehow Hacksaw has become Rowdy Roddy Piper's biggest defender in the Royal Rumble. Gorilla Monsoon takes this opportunity to advance one of the Rumble's main storylines:

" Did you notice that every time that buzzer goes off, Jake the Snake turns around, gets more paranoid? He doesn't know when the Macho Man is coming."

Flair and Rotunda screw up the timing on a tandem maneuver on Piper, then Piper recovers enough to nearly toss Flair over the top rope. The action in the ring has slowed considerably as the timer counts down once more, and the buzzer marks the entrance of Superfly Jimmy Snuka.

Snuka… is… old. He was 48 as he shuffled to the ring that night, and he had a lot of miles on those tires. Snuka wrestled in a particularly dramatic style that included a number of high-flying maneuvers. His signature move was a splash from the top rope, and when Snuka really wanted to make an impact, he'd perform the splash from the top of a steel cage. Half the roster of the appropriately named (and now defunct) Extreme Championship Wrestling organization cited Superfly as a wrestler they specifically wanted to emulate; in fact, he became their first heavyweight champion (back when it was titled Eastern Championship Wrestling). Nevertheless, by 1992, he was being used as enhancement talent to improve the reputation of young WWE stars. Later in 1992, he would famously lose a lopsided contest to the Undertaker at WrestleMania, marking the beginning of the Undertaker's record undefeated streak. Snuka begins by attacking Duggan, who has Flair on the verge of elimination. Then rather counter-intuitively , Snuka follows up by headbutting Flair. Schyster and Roberts are occupied trying to push Piper over the ropes, and Duggan mugs for the fans to allow the elder statesmen some room to operate. Snuka hits a big chop on Flair, leading to another Flair Flop, then swings a chop at Jake the Snake.

Snuka stalks Flair, but Flair escapes with an eye poke; meanwhile, Roberts is nearly eliminated, going over the top rope but landing on the ring apron rather than the floor. Roberts rolls back in as Piper starts slapping the hell out of Flair's chest. I'm sure that sounds like hyperbole, but if there is any hell in Flair's chest, Piper really has slapped it out of him. Piper is rearing back and swinging like he's in a batting cage, and I have no doubt that the capillaries under the skin of Flair's chest burst from the rush of air preceding the impact of Piper's open hand.

The ring's a bit of a mess right now, but Piper nearly tosses Flair out, then Roberts pounces on Flair to try to finish the job. As the timer winds down, Snuka is stomping on Piper, Duggan has climbed to the second rope to begin punching Schyster, and Roberts has left Flair alone for the moment to stare at the ramp (presumably fearing the appearance of Randy Savage, as set up by Gorilla earlier). He's safe for the moment, as entrant number 20 is half the reason we're in this mess in the first place. Here comes the Undertaker!

Mark Calaway is an absolute icon of wrestling, and he may have the perfect blend of attributes for a professional wrestler in this era. He has the size and power to pull off signature moves that look legitimately devastating on anyone wrestling today. With "The Undertaker" he has an amazing gimmick: he plays a character whose resilience and strength hail from mysterious sinister origins. More to the point, he plays that character perfectly - he can frequently deliver interviews to great effect without even saying a word, based solely on his theatrics and menacing stare. But most of all, the Undertaker has perfected his sense of the moment. Nowadays he rarely wrestles during televised broadcasts, saving himself for stunning performances at pay-per-views. I will go so far as to say that Undertaker is the best "big man" in wrestling history, and it's interesting to get a glimpse of him here so early in his WWE career.

If you recall, this Royal Rumble is for the WWF Championship vacated due to the unfair tactics used during championship matches between Hulk Hogan and Undertaker. One of the concessions of this Royal Rumble was that those two contenders would be guaranteed a spot between #20 and #30 to vastly improve their chances of winning. As Undertaker slowly trudges to the ring, Gorilla Monsoon reminds us that he has drawn the worst possible spot, #20. Heenan replies that the bad luck is essentially irrelevant to Undertaker because he's "ice cold." Undertaker, for his part, slowly stalks the ring to find his first target, then throws a single offensive move - he clotheslines Jimmy Snuka over the top rope, eliminating Superfly within five seconds of ring time.

Undertaker then chokes Flair out in the corner for several seconds - there are no referees inside the ring during this event, so illegal choke holds can continue indefinitely - until Hacksaw Jim Duggan comes over to face off with him. Undertaker doesn't even turn around, simply kicking one leg backwards into Duggan's groin (Heenan excitedly yells "Two points!"). That was our second no-look low blow of the Rumble! That's got to be a new record! Then Undertaker starts delivering his signature uppercuts to Duggan while I.R.S. holds Hacksaw from behind. Roberts has Piper on the verge of elimination when Rowdy Roddy turns the tables with a heavily foreshadowed eye poke, which gives him the upper hand on Jake the Snake. Undertaker has already apparently forgotten that Schyster was helping him out just a few short moments ago, as he's lifted I.R.S. onto the top turnbuckle. Flair and Duggan double-team the nigh-invincible Undertaker, but Undertaker simply turns around and catches them in a choke hold - one in each hand. We count down again for our twenty-first entrant into the 1992 Royal Rumble: Randy "Macho Man" Savage.

Savage, simply put, was unforgettable. He was really one of the first "tweener" characters; this word is used in wrestling to describe heels who become so popular that fans cheer them anyway despite their bad-guy actions. Savage delivered impassioned promos with his unique voice - it sounded like he was gargling gravel. And despite his name and persona, his in-ring performances were often technical masterpieces. Go back and watch his WrestleMania III performance against Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat: it's an incredible match, and one that I can't imagine being duplicated by any WWE or TNA performers today. Savage had been inactive for nearly a year after losing a retirement match to the since-departed Ultimate Warrior. If you recall, Jake the Snake had been continually looking back with trepidation during every wrestler's entrance to ensure it wasn't Randy Savage. Well, Roberts was the person who was directly responsible for Savage's reinstatement.

Although it hasn't really come into play, Undertaker and Jake the Snake were allies at the time the Royal Rumble aired. Both had tormented Randy Savage over the past year, though Macho Man's main feud was with Roberts. Roberts had interrupted Savage's wedding ceremony to his long-time manager/escort, Miss Elizabeth. I mentioned earlier that Roberts had a cobra latch onto a restrained Savage's arm - what I didn't say at the time was that this was the catalyst for Macho Man's reintroduction from retirement to the active roster. And now he's coming for revenge.

[to be concluded in Part 4]