Adrian Adonis and Dick Murdoch would team against Tatsumi Fujinami and Kengo Kimura on several occasions throughout 1984 and 1985, but Murdoch and Fujinami were typically viewed as the stars of their respective teams. It would be easy for Adonis and Kimura to fall aside, but they actually delivered a much better singles match here than Murdoch and Fujinami would as part of the same New Japan tour just a week later. The match is built around some very cool and very basic mat exchanges that aren't terribly fancy, but look terrific. It isn't the typically sudden, crisp matwork that has often been a calling card for New Japan, but it's extremely smooth and effortless all the same. They transition nicely into a more aggressive encounter, the highlights of which were Adonis taking a fanatical bump from the top rope to the arena floor, and Adonis delivering a belly-to-back suplex to Kimura on the arena floor before settling for a countout victory. One could argue that the opening matwork could have used a little more flair, but it's hard to find too much fault in producing something so different from the norms of the time.

***

In the early 1980s, Sgt. Slaughter was in high demand among many promoters and was considered one of the best wrestlers in the world. Watching a match like his 10 minute U.S. title defense against Jay Youngblood makes it apparent why he was so sought after and admired, and also makes a strong case for him as both a capable ring general and an accomplished heel. The match's narrative is a simple one: Slaughter is hesitant to lock up, finally does, and is completely outclassed by Youngblood when wrestling at a quick pace. When Slaughter is able to slow the match down, he has far more success. It's one of the oldest, most tried-and-true pro wrestling stories there ever was, and Slaughter executes it masterfully, managing to get a clean, decisive win without letting the viewer forget that Youngblood may have won the match had he been able to sustain the faster pace. Consider this a prime example of simple, straightforward pro wrestling done well.

While it was hardly a great match, and probably not even a good one, watching Riki Choshu and Seji Sakaguchi wrestle over 15 minutes against Ron Starr and The Assassin was at the very least an interesting glance at the formative years of Riki Choshu, working in a different-than-usual environment. The match also shined a light on the talented Ron Starr, who as a hard-working bumper for Choshu's already-strong offense made a case for himself as a talented wrestler who has been forgotten by even hardcore fans.

Toshiaki Kawada and Akira Taue have both played a role in as many classic wrestling matches as any two wrestlers in history, and this is every bit as great as one would expect it to be. However, it's far from predictable, and it's not just another great match. It's also a very memorable one, aided by being a vicious, hate-filled bloodbath that has the feel of a long-brewing blowoff, although the best was yet to come. What makes this unique is all the blood, the use of chairs and tables, and the intense brawling coming from two men more famous for their wrestling ability; although what makes this great is their ability to work in some classic pro wrestling hallmarks -- set up of big moments, revenge spots, well-timed comebacks, singular body part-focused offense, and false finishes that catch the audience off guard -- along the way.

There's a strong, lucha-reminiscent undercurrent in the match layout, built around revenge spots and oneupsmanship, and Taue refusing to let Kawada in the ring after throwing him out can easily remind one of MS-1 doing the same to Sangre Chicana eight years earlier. When Kawada has enough of Taue hitting him with chairs and throwing him into the guardrail and decides to reciprocate, it even begins to feel like we're watching the second fall of a Negro Casas/El Hijo del Santo match. But even if they loved to get revenge by using the same tactics their opponents had already used against them, Santo and Casas never approached each other with this much reckless abandon. Kawada kicking Taue in the back of the head ten times to break a simple leg grapevine when two or three kicks would have accomplished the goal just fine makes the point that this match is about more than just winning, and when teammates like Jumbo Tsuruta and Kenta Kobashi start peeking from behind the curtain, it adds some context to the mayhem, and reminds the viewer exactly what it is they're fighting for. The brilliant visual at one point of Kawada kicking Taue on the side of his bloodied face after being pulled to the ringpost by his weakened knee, only for Taue to ram the knee into the ringpost and attack him with a chair, emphasizes how much each man feels is on the line.

While there's no shortage of hatred, neither man is blinded by it. All the vitriol and loathing in the world would have created a fairly shallow match if Kawada and Taue weren't both such accomplished wrestlers. Instinctively, even in such a chaotic setting, Taue reverses a Kawada powerbomb attempt into a pinning combo, Kawada attempts an inside cradle, and Taue applies a figure four leglock in a failed attempt to close the deal. It's still very much a wrestling match, and when all else fails and the fatigue and blood loss is setting in, Kawada is able to finish the match with a simple lariat. It's a match where Kawada happened to pin Taue this time, but neither really won anything. Until the philosophical differences between the backers of stalwart Jumbo Tsuruta and the upstart Mitsuharu Misawa were resolved, such battles would only continue.

****1/4

Prior to 1995, the idea of putting a match on a United States pro wrestling show with no discernable storyline, for no other reason than to showcase two great wrestlers, would have seemed silly. The only time something like this had even remotely been attempted was in 1992, when the wide-eyed Kip Frey lured Jushin Liger from New Japan to wrestle Brian Pillman in a well-received series of matches in WCW. Countless changes in leadership and direction would end up swallowing that effort whole, and while remembered fondly, the series didn't pave the way for another similar feud to follow.

Eddy Guerrero had resigned himself to the fact that he would never get an opportunity in the United States. He did impress his peers in a one-off showing in 1989 playing pinball for Terry Funk, but WCW wouldn't hire the guy, feeling that he was too small to get over. Aside from some scattered work in his father's old stomping grounds, teaming with his brother Joe in tiny armories and gyms along the Florida panhandle, Dean Malenko hadn't really made much impact in the U.S. himself. Both found greater success and career opportunity in Japan, and Guerrero was even a hugely effective draw in the fledgling, Mexico-based AAA. U.S. crowds -- especially Northeastern U.S. crowds -- were bred on charismatic heavyweights like Hulk Hogan and Bruno Sammartino. While Joel Goodheart had promoted some good wrestling in the TWA, and Civic Center crowds were notorious for cheering hard-working heels on mid-80s Jim Crockett Promotions shows, Philadelphia still didn't seem a likely place to make this sort of impact.

Where this match falls short in heated storyline and emotion, it overachieves as a hard-hitting, visceral wrestling match, giving ECW talking head Joey Styles the perfect opening to defy any major promotion to allow two wrestlers so talented to be given the opportunity to wrestle without limits for a major championship. It's a tremendous encounter, highlighted by some nasty submission attempts and crowd-pleasing highspots that ultimately win over a cynical crowd, at first easily distracted by fights in the crowd and their own clever chants. Before this match, one could argue Ric Flair as the torch bearer for work in the United States, and suplexes to the concrete floor and dives from the top rope were moves he merely teased; here, Malenko and Guerrero actually deliver. It's a match -- a rivalry, for that matter -- that really created a template for the future of American independent wrestling that is being used to this day by Ring of Honor, and it also helped changed the way WCW and eventually the WWF would make personnel decisions.

Looking at Eddy Guerrero versus Dean Malenko as a standalone match, while it works on that level, really misses the point. It was less about creating a classic and more about making a philosophical point about what U.S. crowds would and would not find entertaining, about matwork-heavy long matches not scaring away fans, and about undersized guys succeeding when given the opportunity to shine. On those promises, the match overdelivers, and while this isn't the best match of its style, within its style, the matches that followed would not have been the same without this one.

****

Chris Jericho returning to WWE didn't meet the level of fanfare and excitement he and WWE had probably hoped for. Because they could, WWE and Jericho chose to play mind games with his fans for months, drawing out his return longer than originally planned, and even setting up logical places for it to happen, only to postpone it again. By the time Y2J did show up, the mystery surrounding the promotional packages and strange nature of the build had been largely cracked by everyone, so instead of a "Wow, this guy's back!" reaction, we ended up with a more casual "Oh yeah, we were expecting to see you at some point ..." reaction.

He came back with a Fabulous Ones tribute vest, an expensive-looking metrosexual hair cut, and a love for sophomoric humor that may have been part of his goofball charm at one point, but seemed silly for a 37-year old wrestler whose best friends had all died, and who was on a comeback trail in an attempt to reclaim past glory. He was immediately put in a main event spot, in a feud with then-World champ Randy Orton, in a feud that produced a couple of decent matches, but failed to create any interest of note. What followed was a feud with the returning JBL that had some okay matches and some excellent interviews, but it wasn't enough to live up to expectations, and Chris Jericho had quickly become just another guy, a role he had made famous years earlier when he had the unfortunate luck of hitting his peak in popularity at the same time guys like Steve Austin, the Rock, Mick Foley, and HHH were hitting their peak in popularity, allowing little room for him to "break the walls down".

Since the feud with JBL ended, several things happened. Jeff Hardy, who in many ways had assumed the rogue role of the midcarder/occasional main eventer who gets a disproportionately large fan reaction and isn't pushed accordingly, a role Jericho left behind many years earlier, ended up letting his biggest fans down by violating WWE's wellness policy for the second time in less than a year and being served a 60-day suspension. CM Punk, likely the most straight-laced pierced and tattooed pro wrestler you would ever meet, semi-assumed his role by winning the Money In The Bank ladder match at Wrestlemania, assuring he will get a championship match at some point this year. The plan had been for Jericho to work an extended program with Hardy, and the perception initially was that Hardy, whose stock was on the rise, was being saddled by having to work with Jericho, a guy who didn't sustain the heat he had at one time and whose best days seemed behind him. It was felt it was a waste of Hardy, as Jericho, despite his talents, is perhaps the most "labeled" wrestler of the past decade, a guy destined for a certain spot on the show who could do little to change his own fate.

Jericho had some exciting matches with Hardy, matches that did more to revitalize Jericho than they did assist Hardy in getting to the next level. He also had some good matches with Punk, a guy who many predicted would eventually fall victim to the same labeling Jericho once had. With his planned rivalries not working out for various reasons, Jericho ended up playing the third wheel in a fairly hot Shawn Michaels/Batista feud. Jericho at this point was clearly the least biggest star of the three, and again, the feeling was that he was bringing down those around him who just needed to be left alone.

Five years earlier, Shawn Michaels found himself in a similar situation. He was coming back after a long absence in an attempt to reclaim past glory, and had trouble finding his way and recapturing the audience, until a feud with Jericho signaled a full-fledged return and revitalized him, showing that he could keep up with one of WWE's brightest stars. Interestingly enough, the roles had now been reversed and it was a Jericho/Michaels feud that Jericho was counting on to reverse his fortunes. The feud was flat, but the reception to their Judgment Day match was largely positive, with many commenting that Jericho was returning to form.

On the heels of this, Jericho went into a match with Batista. The entire storyline had been built around the character flaws of winning matches everyone thinks you should lose and faking injuries, a play on Michaels' reputation of years past. In this match, Jericho bails early, clutching his knee, while Batista looks on cynically, and just wants Jericho to get back in the ring. Batista dominates -- while fans surprisingly side with Jericho over the younger (in terms of entry to the main event scene, not date of birth), larger, more effectively-pushed Batista, until Batista misses a blind charge and goes sailing over the top rope to the floor. Batista, like Jericho earlier, is now clutching his knee. Jericho's facial expression of half uncertainty and half opportunism here is tremendous, and he immediately hones in on Batista's leg. If Batista was faking his injury, he wouldn't be for long.

The fans were siding with Jericho when it wasn't Jericho's role in this match to win fans to his side, so his veteran instincts kick in, and he turns the tide in a way where he attacks his knee enough to build sympathy, and turn the crowd into wanting to see a Batista comeback instead of a Jericho victory. A prolonged half-Boston crab, which appeared to be improvised after Jericho realized the pop he was about to get for applying the Walls of Jericho, ended with Batista struggling to reach the ropes, and the crowd now solidly in his corner. Soon, Batista's comeback would be in full force, and the live audience was very excited. Jericho would attempt the Codebreaker, only for Batista to catch him. Jericho tried to punch his way out of the move, but it was to no avail, as Batista finished him off with the Batista bomb.

This was an excellent TV match. It wasn't a classic, but it represented that six months after HHH sarcastically joked with all of his peers that they were going to make huge money off the next round of house shows headlined by the returning "savior", Chris Jericho appears to have returned to form.

***1/2