Backlash 2008: A Strong WrestleMania Follow-Up Without a True Classic

Hardy and MVP finally cash in the emotional investment from a rivalry that had stretched across tag-team partnership, betrayal, and Hardy's injury absence. MVP controls enough of the match to make the championship feel difficult to take, while Hardy wrestles with the urgency of someone getting the opportunity he had waited months to receive. Their familiarity helps the counters feel natural rather than rehearsed. The finish is simple and satisfying: MVP charges, Hardy avoids him, and the Twist of Fate ends the reign cleanly. Nothing here reaches the complexity of their best television work, but the crowd response elevates every late exchange. As an opener, it gives the show exactly what it needs—a meaningful title change with a popular winner and no unnecessary complication.

Chavo Guerrero works with a clear plan by attacking Kane's leg and trying to neutralize the champion's size advantage. Bam Neely's presence gives Chavo additional leverage without turning the entire match into an interference showcase, and the challenger finds enough openings to make the rematch more competitive than their WrestleMania encounter. The problem is that the bout never develops much urgency. Chavo's frog splash appears to create a possible turning point, only for Kane to catch him almost immediately with the chokeslam and end the match. The finish is clean and the champion is protected, but the story feels compressed into less than nine minutes. It functions as a credible ECW Championship defense without giving either man much new momentum.

Big Show and The Great Khali are booked as an attraction built almost entirely around scale, which means the match lives or dies on whether two enormous wrestlers standing across from each other feels special enough. The opening stare-down gets the intended reaction, and Show's eventual body slam provides the obvious power spot. Between those moments, the pace is painfully slow. Khali's offense leans on chops, clotheslines, and holds that leave little room for momentum, while Show has to wait for openings rather than create a flowing comeback. The final chokeslam is clean and decisive, but there is almost no suspense about the direction once Show begins moving forward. It is not disastrously performed; it is simply a narrow concept stretched beyond its entertainment value.

Michaels approaches Batista like a smaller veteran who knows a straightforward power fight would be a mistake. He attacks the arm, uses positioning to avoid Batista's biggest offense, and repeatedly forces the match into situations where technique matters more than strength. Batista's comeback creates the right contrast, especially once he begins overpowering Michaels and threatening the Batista Bomb. Then the match becomes about character. Michaels lands awkwardly while escaping the powerbomb, sells a knee injury, and uses Jericho's concern to buy enough time for Sweet Chin Music. The deception gives Michaels the win while making the audience question what they just watched. As a standalone match it is good rather than great; as the first major turn in the Michaels-Jericho story, the finish is far more valuable.

Twelve wrestlers in barely more than six minutes leaves almost no chance for an actual match structure to develop. The constant tagging gives the bout movement, and having Beth Phoenix score the decisive fall over Ashley at least keeps the strongest heel on the winning side. Natalya, Victoria, Mickie James, and Michelle McCool provide flashes of sharper work, but most participants receive only enough time to enter, perform a brief sequence, and leave. The crowd treats the match as a change of pace rather than a major program, which is fair because the booking gives them little reason to do otherwise. Nothing collapses technically, and the short runtime prevents the limitations from becoming exhausting. It remains filler on a card where nearly every other match has clearer stakes or a stronger narrative.

Undertaker and Edge understand how to make interference threats part of a match without letting them replace the championship story. Undertaker controls early, Edge survives by finding openings and using the exposed turnbuckle, and the outside involvement from Curt Hawkins and Zack Ryder creates believable false finishes. The strongest stretch comes when Edge escapes the Tombstone and turns the counter into a sunset-flip pin, only for Undertaker to trap him in the gogoplata. That transition gives the finish urgency and preserves the champion's dangerous aura. Undertaker continuing the hold after the submission adds menace without requiring another stunt. The match is not their most spectacular meeting, but it is polished, physical, and strategically paced. It feels like a world-title match from bell to bell, which makes it the card's strongest complete performance.

The elimination stipulation gives the main event more shape than a standard four-way because every temporary alliance has a clear purpose. Cena submitting JBL and then being eliminated almost immediately by Orton's punt creates the night's sharpest sequence, rapidly transforming the match from four stars into the Triple H-Orton confrontation the closing stretch needs. That final section runs long, but both men work with enough history and championship urgency to sustain it. Orton survives major offense, lands the RKO for a convincing near fall, and threatens the punt before Triple H escapes and eventually hits the Pedigree. The title change feels significant without making Orton look weak, and Triple H's victory gives the show a definite ending. It is a strong main event, even if the extended final pairing makes the earlier four-way concept feel temporary.