Previously on Jesus Christ, Superstars: Tatanka took off his clothes to visit a Canadian Indian reservation, Virgil almost killed one of the Head Bangers, and Razor Ramon broke a chica’s heart, because chicas are for fun. Das too bad!
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Here’s what you missed 27 years ago on WWF Superstars for July 4, 1992.
Jobbers Of The Week
This week’s most notable jobber is Jason Knight, who’d gain … I guess you could call it “prominence,” as JASON, THE SEXIEST MAN ON EARTH, in ECW. Jason’s gimmick worked really well in the heyday of ECW, because you’d have a fat, drunk, chain-smoking guy in a t-shirt and Zubaz pants hitting Terry Funk in the face with a fying pan in the middle of a thousand rank wrestling fans and all of a sudden a non-dancing Alex Wright shows up like, “unf, look how SEXY I am!” It was like Paul E. whipped up a Sharknado of virgins and then dropped a big purple dildo in the center.
On Superstars, Jason loses to The Model Rick Martel, which could not possibly be a better introduction to the character. I’m going to guess there’s a whole Call Me By Your Name thing going on backstage with Martel as Armie Hammer and Timothée Chalamet. This is also a rare example of two “I’m so hot I’m practically masturbating to MYSELF” wrestling characters having more realistic names than real-life actors.
Teaming up to take on High Energy in this week’s opener are returning favorite Bob Bradley and his tag team partner, Joe Milano Collection AT.
Milano looks like Mark Spitz stopped swimming and started fighting bulls. He’s what you’d call a career jobber, as you can find footage of him “challenging” the Honky Tonk Man for the Intercontinental Championship as far back as 1987. Just think; if Joe Milano had done about a billion more push-ups he could’ve been the Ultimate Warrior. Instead, he’s a Ron Burgundy-looking matador motherfucker named after coffee and a cookie.
Joe McMullen takes a break from walking in Memphis to lose to Papa Shango. Instead of setting him on fire or making him drip black goo, Papa uses Hoodoo paraphernalia to work the knee. Louisiana workrate!
This causes Vince McMahon to scream about how you “HAVE TO THINK THIS STUFF IS REAL” for it to be effective — tell that to the Ultimate Warrior — and a smash cut to a member of the Spin Doctors in the crowd with an INCREDIBLE artists rendering of Warrior vomiting on a guy.
Incredibly, Papa wins with a shoulder breaker instead of with anything involving the knee. Now I’m sad nobody in Japan brought in Papa Shango in the mid-90s, so we could’ve seen him no-sell a German suplex, use his staff to make his opponent German suplex themselves, no-sell a second German suplex, then throw a staff-assisted desperation lariat as both men collapse.
Barry Horowitz returns this week, and even though we’ve talked about him before, I wanted to show you his jacket with a big sparkling hand on the back. It’s like a Wallmaster from The Legend of Zelda re-imagined by Michael Jackson.
If you haven’t heard, Horowitz is currently doing interviews trying to get into the WWE Hall of Fame, with points such as:
“It’s pretty entertaining and cool. But I think only wrestlers should be in there and yes, I do think I should be in there … Without a doubt. I won’t mention names but there are people in there who can’t lace my boots and don’t know a wristlock from a wristwatch. Then there’s people in there not even in pro wrestling or ever even worked for Vince. So it’s kinda like a slight to me. Like really?”
Instead of a “legacy class” of murdered dudes and people who aren’t alive to show up and make them money, next year’s Hall of Fame should include a jobber class. Induct Barry Horowitz, Iron Mike Sharpe, the Brooklyn Brawler, Duane Gill, and maybe the Mulkey Brothers. Hell, you put in Special Delivery Jones last year. You can’t throw The Gambler a bone?
Last but not least is jobber legend ‘Fabulous’ Phil Apollo, seen here in lightning bolt trunks teaming with young boy Scott Taylor. Apollo’s probably best known as one half of World Class Championship Wrestling’s “Dynamic Duo” with Erich Sbraccia, and for forming New Age Management with Gary Hart. That group would include WWE Hall of Famers like Abdullah the Butcher, WWE also-rans like the pre-Crisis Berserker John Nord, and the guy who played Bane in Batman and Robin. Only he and Steve Harvey are able to fill Apollo.
Phil and Scotty lose to the Beverly Brothers and Scotty gets the “legion of sissies” treatment, which is starting to gather some solid evidence now that the Legion of Doom is carrying a ventriloquist dummy in a ’50s greaser costume around with them wherever they go.
Some Days You Just Can’t Get Rid Of A Bomb Of The Week
Due to bad planning, the U.S. Independence Day edition of WWF Superstars happens while they’re in Ontario, Canada, so the extent of their celebration is Mr. Perfect playing with a sparkler and trying to permanently injure and/or kill Vince McMahon by tossing him a lit firecracker. We find out during the first match that it was “a dud” — like Mr. Perfect himself, Vince adds — but you think he’d kick the dude out of the green-screened announce booth for trying to murder him.
Bonus patriotism: Sgt. Slaughter, who Vince says is “capable of mixing it up in roughhouse fashion” in an extremely Vince McMahon way, gets a quick win for America against Barry Hardy. The highlight is the cut to the crowd where this little Canadian boy is wearing a Sgt. Slaughter helmet, eating a Sgt. Slaughter ice cream bar, and holding a foam Hacksaw Jim Duggan 2×4.
Nothing says the United States like gorging yourself while supporting cross-eyed idiots and treasonous celebrities!
Physical Mismatch Of The Week
Crush, who seems like he wrestles on every single episode, faces off against Kerry Davis, the reocurring jobber who looks like Gabe Sapolsky in a Ricky Morton wig. McMahon notes that Crush’s physique is due to a strict diet and a fanatical devotion to ICOPRO, because there’s nothing better for your body than sawdust-filled candy bars and like 30 bottles of pills.
Kerry Davis wins the match with a big Fire Thunder Driver off the second rope. Just kidding, Crush defeats him by submission via temple massage, because you can’t trust Crush with a maneuver more complicated than “touch your opponent with your hands.” Brother tries to throw a big boot and accidentally tears a hole in the space-time continuum.
Grim Repo Of The Week
He got a bicycle! He got a bicycle from somebody, who would be riding a bicycle in this arena? I’m sorry, I lost my train of thought. Repo Man went over and got him a bicycle, I don’t know where the kid is that was a’ridin’ it, but he ain’t on it when they brought it to the ring.
But yes, the advertised “special interview” with the Repo Man is him revealing to Mean Gene Okerlund that he’s “repossessed” a bike from a 15-year old “a couple of blocks from here” who had to quit his job to study for finals, which means he didn’t have enough money to make payments, which means a wrestler performing nearby could steal his shit?
Even I’m starting to get confused by the Repo Man’s job description. Can you just wander around asking people if they have money to pay for things, and if they say “probably not,” you can take their stuff? Do you have to wear a burglar mask? Does the Repo Man work for a repossession company with international reach? What kind of job did a 15-year old have? Who gave a 15-year old credit? Why did we give him five minutes of TV time to talk about how he screwed over a local child? This makes less sense than Papa Shango making Gene leak garbage water from his armpit.
Not Understanding Ric Flair Of The Week
Allow me to take a break from the jokes for a moment to address something serious: the World Wrestling Federation not understanding what made Ric Flair cool. Back in the NWA, Flair would come to the ring to compete in these sparkly robes, but he didn’t just wear them around everywhere he went. They were a way to spectacularly cover himself so he wasn’t walking around in nothing but boots and underpants. When he cut promos or was just existing in real life, he wore Porsche sunglasses, alligator shoes, and custom-made suits. In the WWF, he’s always wearing the robe. Why? It’s the same thing they do with Bobby Roode now, where he’s just forever wearing a bedazzled bath robe for no reason. It doesn’t make him look cool, it makes him look like a fancy guy who accidentally locked himself out of his house. Sorry, I just needed to get that off my chest.
Caribbean Cool Of The Week
Finally we have another vignette from Razor Ramon, who rocks the kind of shirt Garth Brooks would’ve worn on a Carnival Cruise to harass people at el mercado local and spit in their faces, presumably because they don’t want to be cool. Razor says he does what he wants, when he wants, and even spits at the camera. How did he know the 12-year old me didn’t want to be cool?
Next Week Of The Week
Big Jeff Dunham fans and friends of the children the LEGION OF DOOM will be in action! Plus, The Undertaker is back from wherever he’s been, Wrestler Of The ’90s Shawn Michaels faces his biggest challenge yet as he steps into the ring with Chico Martinez, and Razor Ramon explains how much you should tip the waitstaff. It’s not much, sorry.
All this and more next week in our dumbest column, about the best way to spend your weekend mornings thirty years ago!
