TWA Autumn Armageddon II (9.21.91) review 

 

September 21, 1991 

 

We’re in Philly at the Original Sports Bar, a new venue for Tri State. They’re still drawing good numbers under the stewardship of Joel Goodhart. 1,524 paid for Autumn Armageddon II. There’s an audience for this in Philly, and that would only be amplified over the coming years. This is the end of Tri State, though. Their last show is in December. Autumn Armageddon II is the last major show they put on. This is on YouTube at 720p. Goodhart brings Tod Gordon to the ring, and the crowd optimistically chants “we want Flair”. Um. Yeah, he’s going to the fed lads. He’s not stopping off here.  

 

Gordon was an increasingly large presence on Tri State shows, and indeed he’ll be taking over the reins. The Eddie Gilbert-Tod Gordon version of ECW was much the same as Tri State, and it wasn’t really until Paul Heyman became the creative head of ECW, in late 1993, that it became the juggernaut of pop culture popularity it became in the 1990s.  

 

I may have to start including trigger warnings in these Philadelphia based show reviews as the crowd gets….nasty in the 1990s.  

 

Last Blood Battle Royal 

 

I love both the rules here; you get eliminated when you’re busted open and the card telling us who’s in the match. Like a movie or TV show credits. There are a lot of predictably shit locals here, but the two guys that stand out are Sandman and Sabu. The latter is only making his second appearance in Philadelphia and looks very young. He’s about 27. He misses a senton here and he’s not close to anyone. Mr Anthony has an effeminate gimmick akin to Adrian Adonis. Which leads the crowd to chant “kill the fag”. Oh boy. That Philadelphia crowd was something else. Bloodthirsty, obnoxious, and loud. 

 

As for the match. It’s a fucking mess. The concept doesn’t work as well as I was hoping for. You don’t get those big pops for people being eliminated. You hear the elimination over the tannoy and then someone rolls out of the ring with blood on their forehead. Meanwhile, we were watching people brawling around at ringside. Mr Anthony and Rockin’ Rebel both get eliminated, and Rebel whips the crowd into a homophobic rage. That distracts the referee from Sandman being busted open and Peaches* squirts ketchup at Tony Stetson. They end up brawling around the ringside and will have a match later tonight. DUD 

 

*Peaches is Lori Fullington, Sandman’s shoot wife.  

 

TWA Championship  

JT Smith (c) vs. DC Drake  

If there’s ever a wrestler that defines TWA, it’s DC Drake. He’s got Don E Allen and Woman in his corner. He has the spooky looks of a Raven, the desire to have the long matches of a Shane Douglas and the body of a Tommy Dreamer. He also held the TWA title for 322 days, the longest of the four original champions. Smith will lose the belt to Buddy Landel about a month after this, and then the company ceases to exist and becomes ECW in early 1992.  

I’m struggling to understand why Woman is here and not in WCW. I can only assume it’s related to Kevin Sullivan, her then husband, who just left WCW. All she really does here is stand around looking attractive while Don E Allen and Larry Winters do all the heel work on the floor. DC does a lot of low impact cheating, which JT helpfully sells. I am not a DC Drake fan. The match is really messy with lots of poor execution.  

 

At one point Drake hits a halfway decent clothesline and the crowd actually pop it because it’s the only time in the match they haven’t stunk. An example is the next spot. It’s supposed to be a slam on the floor and they fuck it up. JT then dives off the top rope, and DC moves way early, making JT look like an idiot for throwing himself off the ropes. They do a miscue spot with the crutch*, which has been used all match, and it sucks. JT retains. Boy this was BAD. Like really, really bad. “I don’t get it” says Woman into the camera. Me too, Nancy, me too. -* 

 

*Larry Winters is ringside, as part of the Dog Pound stable. He’s buggered his knee up and is out injured. By the time he’ll be fit to wrestle again, Tri State will be gone.  

 

Tony Stetson vs. Sandman 

Stetson is fuming about not winning the battle royal earlier and challenges Sandman to a grudge match. Sandman’s unconventional technique, where he flops around like he has no bones, is actually quite refreshing after the last match. Sandman bleeds a lot and then works over Stetson’s leg, after spending a solid 3-4 minutes just lying on the floor. Both guys end up bleeding and the crowd start shitting on this as the execution is bad. Stetson finishes with a leg jam. Boy, this was underwhelming. DUD 

 

TWA Tag Team Championship 

Johnny Hotbody & Larry Winters (c) vs. Blackhearts 

Winters is one half of the Dog Pound but got injured and won’t be wrestling again until next year. He’s replaced by DC Drake. Nooo, we already had DC Drake once. What the fuck? If we’re reaching for positives, it means DC Drake’s 28 minutes of action is at least spread over two matches. Instead of him having one 28 minute long encounter. Blackhearts are Dave Heath (Gangrel) and Tom Nash. They’re cornered by Luna Vachon.  

 

As this is DC Drake, the match takes ages to even get going as he roams around ringside, arguing with the fans. Hotbody is usually in garbage brawls, but this is sluggish. I blame DC Drake. We get some good brawling on the floor, and Don E Allen gets thrown into the guardrail a pleasing number of times. The in ring is fucking shit though, lads. The timing is abysmal. They have a near fall on Hotbody and both Winters and Drake are late on their cues to break it up. 

 

It’s safe to say, this contest won’t trouble the notepad for excellence. Luna has a better match beating the fuck out of Don E Allen until DC Drake punches her in the face. Yeah, we’re in Philly alright. Intergender violence will be a tentpole of this city for years to come. There’s a dangerous streak of misogyny running through Philadelphia. Winters turns on DC by whacking him in the back of the head with his crutch and the Dog Pound kick Drake’s ass. Babyface DC Drake, just what the doctor ordered. Anyway, this fucking sucked. DUD 

 

Post Match: Hotbody and Winters beat Drake down. The Blackhearts don’t care. They’re champions now. Eventually JT Smith makes the unexpected save. This would lead to a tag match in February, by which point Tri State Wrestling will have ceased to exist! Tod Gordon’s ECW filling the void. Seeing as there’s no chance I’ll get to see “Market Street Mayhem”, this is DC Drake’s career finished.  

 

Drake is a cautionary tale for young wrestlers. His use of steroids led to a series of heart attacks, which started in his thirties and forced him to retire. He’s lucky to be alive.  

 

GOODHART DELIVERS!  

 

Takayuki Iizuka vs. Owen Hart 

Iizuka is in his mid 20s and handsome. A bit of a contrast to the iron glove bastard. This is a rare glimpse at Owen between his WWF runs (Blue Blazer 1989 and High Energy 1992). During which time, WCW managed to fumble him. Way to go, Jim Herd! Owen is really technically sound, and the crowd appreciates that style. While Philly was bloodthirsty, it’s also a city that digs good in ring work. To be fair, I wouldn’t want most of the roster attempting this kind of match. They’re better off smacking each other in the head with chairs. 

The middle rope snaps off, which is not what you want. You want those ropes to be reliable. We get a back-and-forth contest with both guys getting their shit in. Owen mounts the buckles during a comeback and the crowd yell “be careful”. Aww, so considerate. Iizuka runs through some very basic NJPW stuff. A lot of his strikes leave a lot to be desired. Owen, sensing this, forces him to fire up more.  

 

This is unfortunately followed by a lot of rest holds because this is going long. When Owen is in full flow, it’s a thing of beauty though. His belly-to-belly suplex is the cleanest shit I’ve seen all night long. The countered superplex, thanks to the duff ropes, is also great pro-wrestling. Owen slips behind off a suplex into the ring and hits a German suplex for the pin. Rapturous applause from the locals here, and Owen Hart was clearly streets ahead of the standard on the indies. *** 

 

Post Match reactions are interesting. Crowd openly boo Iizuka and chant “don’t come back”. Absolute scumbags, man. Lots of fans are cheering and applauding, but there is an audible discontent about a guy who’s just very solid.  

 

Terry Funk vs. Kevin Sullivan 

Sulivan, recently departed from WCW, has his indies demon worshipper gimmick and is cornered by a far more animated Woman, who has a totally different look to earlier. This version of Woman is called Fallen Angel.  

This match has some delightfully unpredictable Terry Funk selling. Sullivan is so much more evil on the indies. He picks up the hammer, for the ring bell, and chases Terry through the crowd. If someone called the cops here, I would not blame them. Sullivan’s desire to cheat is unparalleled. A sequence in this is him punching Terry in the throat, jabbing him in the eye, kicking him in the balls and then taping him to the ring post so he can hit him with a chair. When Terry dodges it Sullivan kicks him in the fork again. “Hey, Angel, right in the old balls!”  

 

Funk, after taking three shots to the groin in quick succession, has had enough and mounts a comeback. Which consists almost entirely of ball shots. Woman/Angel charges into the ring and Funk puts her in the Funk Spinning Toehold. The carnage continues unabated as normal wrestling rules have gone completely out of the window. The ref tries to break it up, so Funk punches him in the eye, and we go to a DQ. Awww. I was having a fucking great time watching this. ***½ 

 

Post Match: Glen Osbourne runs in; Terry punches him in the face. As Funk is leaving the ring a Japanese photographer gets in his way, so Terry RUNS HIM INTO THE GUARDRAIL! They keep brawling, and Terry gets upset with the proximity of the fans and whacks one of them with a forearm before chasing three of them out of the building. Holy shit. This whole thing fucking ruled. If the post-match was included, I would probably go **** 

 

Eddie Gilbert & Madusa Micelli vs. Cactus Jack & Luna Vachon 

Jack has gone back to WCW, but he’s kept a promise to face Gilbert one final time in tag action. This is also Madusa’s last indies booking before going to WCW. Foley is seen as a returning hero here, who deserved the big WCW contract, and the fans are grateful he’s come back for this match up. Gilbert calls him a traitor and gets a good pop telling Cactus to tell Jim Herd to “kiss my ass”.  

 

Madusa is significantly better than she was a few years ago. Working in Japan definitely helped. The women take up a huge chunk of the match while the crowd impatiently chant “we want Jack”. Madusa takes some very nice bumps here, but the crowd aren’t really invested in it. Cactus’ first involvement is tripping Madusa on an Irish whip and this immedately leads a brawl around the building with Gilbert. Back in the ring Madusa beats Luna with a German suplex. Cactus and Eddie never legally got in the ring. Madusa runs around celebrating, and no one cares. *¾ 

 

Post Match: apparently Luna’s hair was on the line here? So, Madusa cuts some of it off after the match, as Luna switches to her iconic shaved head look. The post-match brawl sees the Blackhearts try to save Luna and Cactus teams with Gilbert to send them packing. Which formally ends their feud. Cactus tells us he wouldn’t be going back to WCW if it wasn’t for Eddie Gilbert having bangers with him on the indies. 

 

Cage Match: 

Original Sheik vs. Abdullah the Butcher 

The cage looks yellow but it’s just the lighting. “Go back to Iraq” yells one ringside fan. He’s from Michigan! Sheik is well into his 60s here. Abby is a comparitive spring chicken, aged only 50. This is five minutes of two old guys hitting each other with crap and bleeding. They eventually spill out of the cage, and the referee gives up and calls it. The crowd HATED this. A real mess. DUD 

 

Post Match; The locker room empties and there’s a mass brawl all over the building, which finally placates the fans, who were hot about the main event finishing in such shambolic fashion. Abby, in particular, wins them over by taking out staffers.  

 

The 411: 

A rock solid Owen Hart match, followed by a Sullivan-Funk banger, is all of the show that’s worth seeing. The rest is quite poor. Especially the start of the show, which felt like a never-ending streak of duds. Early ECW often tested my patience, and that’s what TWA was. An undercard packed with bad local wrestlers and shows being saved by unemployed former WCW guys.