Bash at the Beach 1997: Dennis Rodman Shows Up, the Cruiserweights Steal It, and Lex Luger Gets the Last Word

Mortis and Wrath versus Glacier and Ernest Miller is the rare Blood Runs Cold match that benefits from being judged on what happens rather than what the characters promised. The pace is quick, Mortis and Wrath bring real athleticism, and Ernest Miller gives Glacier a partner who can match the martial-arts rhythm without turning every exchange into a demonstration. Kevin Pantoja gave it three stars and called it surprisingly fun, while KB was also relatively positive with a B-minus. The finish uses James Vandenberg and a chain-assisted kick, but the interference does not erase the energy. For nine minutes, this opening act feels less like a discarded Mortal Kombat audition and more like a useful midcard tag.

Chris Jericho and Ultimo Dragon deliver exactly the kind of match that made WCW's cruiserweight division essential viewing even when the upper card was chasing celebrities. The opening exchanges establish parity, Dragon's Asai moonsault changes the rhythm, and Jericho keeps finding creative counters without turning the match into a move exhibition. The final sequence is excellent: Dragon tries to convert a powerbomb exchange into a hurricanrana, Jericho rolls through, and the champion survives by inches. Dave Meltzer rated it four-and-a-quarter stars, while CAGEMATCH's long-running audience score sits in the mid-seven range. Pantoja landed at three-and-three-quarter stars. It is not flawless, but it is easily one of the show's core reasons to watch.

The Steiner Brothers against Great Muta and Masahiro Chono is physically impressive even when the connective tissue is thin. Scott Steiner throws people with the casual hostility of a man moving furniture he did not buy, Muta's timing gives every burst a little menace, and Rick's top-rope DDT creates a suitably violent finish after Scott lands the Frankensteiner. The match also carries a practical stake because the Steiners earn another shot at the Outsiders. Meltzer went three-and-a-quarter stars and Pantoja settled at two-and-three-quarter, while KB disliked the flow much more. The middle ground fits. It is good power wrestling with occasional dead air, and the talent level keeps the rough edges from becoming a larger problem.

The six-man lucha tag is the card's purest joy. Hector Garza, Juventud Guerrera and Lizmark Jr. fly at La Parka, Psychosis and Villano IV with almost no concern for conventional American tag structure, and the result is a match that keeps changing shape before the audience can settle into one pattern. The simultaneous dives are a terrific visual, Psychosis nearly folds Juventud with a corner bomb, and Garza's corkscrew plancha still looks ridiculous decades later. Meltzer rated it four-and-a-quarter stars, Pantoja gave it three-and-three-quarter, and CAGEMATCH's audience rating remains comfortably above seven. The Villano switch finish is goofy, but the match is too alive to care. This is exactly what WCW's international roster depth could provide.

Chris Benoit and Kevin Sullivan had been fighting across arenas, bathrooms and furniture for more than a year, so the retirement match wisely does not pretend they suddenly discovered wristlocks. They brawl immediately, use the beach-themed set, involve Jacqueline and build toward the moment when she finally turns on Sullivan by breaking a chair over his head. Benoit's diving headbutt ends both the match and Sullivan's in-ring career. Meltzer gave it three-and-a-half stars and Pantoja three-and-a-quarter; KB was cooler because the rivalry had repeated the same fight too many times. That criticism is fair. Still, the violence feels personal, the finish advances Jacqueline, and the bout gives a long feud an actual ending.

Jeff Jarrett versus Steve McMichael exists almost entirely to move Debra from Mongo's side to Jarrett's, and once that destination is obvious there is not much journey left. McMichael uses his power, Jarrett attacks the knee and the pace never reaches a level that hides Mongo's limitations. Debra eventually slides in the briefcase, distracts the referee and celebrates after Jarrett uses it to retain. Meltzer called the match a DUD, Pantoja went a quarter-star, and KB also landed in D territory. The angle matters more than the wrestling, which is why the match is easy to skip on a rewatch. Six minutes is merciful. The heel turn can be understood from a thirty-second clip.

Diamond Dallas Page reveals Curt Hennig as his mystery partner, and that entrance should create an entire match's worth of possibility. Instead, the bout sprints from introduction to mistrust to abandonment in under ten minutes. Page works most of the heat, Hennig receives a cold hot tag, and the key miscommunication is so awkward that the eventual strike to Page feels less like betrayal than a production note being executed on schedule. Hall and Savage finish Page after Hennig leaves. Meltzer rated the match half a star and Pantoja three-quarters; KB was slightly kinder at D-plus because the angle at least moved somewhere. As wrestling, it is weak. As Hennig's first WCW chapter, it is historically useful.

Roddy Piper and Ric Flair are both well past their physical peaks, but they understand audience manipulation better than most of the roster. Piper starts with fists and chops, Flair attacks the knee, and the match keeps returning to familiar spots because familiar spots still work when the performers know exactly when to use them. Flair's rope-assisted pin attempts and argument with a ringside fan are classic character details, while Piper's sleeper creates a surprisingly decisive finish. Meltzer rated it three-and-a-quarter stars, Pantoja three stars and KB a C-plus. The bout runs a little long and the interference threatens to swallow it, but the crowd stays with them. That matters on a show built around spectacle.

The main event is twenty-two minutes of careful celebrity wrestling wrapped inside one of WCW's loudest crossover attractions. Dennis Rodman does almost nothing complicated because the match does not need him to. Every tag becomes an event, every lockup gets a reaction, and Hogan carries most of the conventional work while Giant and Luger handle the babyface structure. The fake-Sting run-in is comically transparent, but the actual finish is excellent booking: Luger puts Hogan in the Torture Rack and forces the world champion to submit cleanly enough to set up the next phase of their rivalry. Meltzer gave the match one-and-a-half stars and Pantoja two. The athletic quality is modest. The crowd heat and historical value are enormous.