Chi-Town Rumble 1989: One Match Changed WCW's Entire Year

Michael Hayes has enough charisma to keep the crowd interested in his comebacks, but the match is far too long for the material. Russian Assassin #1 controls extended sections with basic offense and a chinlock, while Hayes spends much of the bout trying to create energy through personality rather than movement. The structure is simple and understandable, but nearly sixteen minutes exposes how little variety the matchup offers.

Hayes eventually avoids a charge and finishes with the DDT. The win is decisive enough, yet the journey feels like television padding transferred to pay-per-view. There is nothing catastrophically wrong with the match, but there is also almost nothing worth revisiting. A shorter version might have been functional; at this length it becomes the night's clearest drag.

Sting's explosiveness gives the match an obvious attraction, and Butch Reed is strong enough to make the early power exchanges believable. The trouble begins when Reed takes control and repeatedly returns to the chinlock. Those stretches consume too much of a twenty-minute match and flatten the energy that Sting creates whenever he is moving.

The finish has some personality. Reed tries to steal the pin by holding the ropes during a sunset-flip counter, Teddy Long catches him and forces the break, and Sting completes the sunset flip for the victory. The crowd likes the result, but the match takes a very long route to a modest payoff. It is historically useful as part of Sting's rise, not essential viewing on its own.

The personnel change from Dennis Condrey to Jack Victory weakens the original premise, but the managers keep the rivalry alive. Jim Cornette and Paul E. Dangerously are so clearly defined that every tease of them fighting gets a reaction, while Bobby Eaton and Stan Lane provide the polished tag work needed to hold the match together. Randy Rose understands how to feed the babyface momentum.

The closing sequence gives the stipulation a proper payoff. Miscommunication knocks Victory out of position, Eaton and Lane hit the double flapjack on Rose, and the pin forces Rose to leave the NWA. Cornette's enthusiasm adds a layer of fun without turning the contest into comedy. It is not as strong as the Starrcade tag, but it is the best undercard story on the show.

Rick Steiner and Mike Rotunda have enough amateur-based offense to create a credible championship match, and the presence of Scott Steiner at ringside gives the bout some historical interest. Rotunda works more technically than theatrically, while Rick's awkward explosiveness keeps the crowd engaged. The match is not especially smooth, but it has a recognizable competitive rhythm for most of its sixteen minutes.

Then the finish damages the entire presentation. Rick applies a sleeper, falls backward and leaves his own shoulders on the mat long enough to be counted down. Rotunda regains the Television Championship because the champion effectively pins himself. The result may serve future direction, but the mechanism makes Rick look foolish and turns a decent match into a frustrating one.

Barry Windham carries the structure with excellent selling and pacing. Once he injures his hand against the ringpost, the Claw becomes compromised and Lex Luger gains a clear target without needing to become a technical wrestler. Luger provides power and urgency, while Windham uses experience to keep finding small advantages. The Chicago crowd is invested in the challenger and treats every near fall like a possible title change.

The finish is compact and satisfying. Windham hits a bridging backdrop suplex, Luger gets his shoulder up and Windham's own shoulders remain down for three. The champion loses without being made foolish, and Luger gets a meaningful championship payoff after failing against Flair at Starrcade. It is one of the better matches either man could have in this configuration.

Steve Williams is the key to the match because he can stand across from Hawk and Animal without making the power exchanges look absurd. Kevin Sullivan handles the connective work, and the Road Warriors remain over enough that even short bursts produce a strong crowd response. The matchup has real physical appeal, but eight minutes does not give the teams much room to develop it.

The finish comes during a chaotic exchange where Williams appears to have Animal covered while Hawk is the legal man. Hawk comes off the top with the clothesline on Sullivan and gets the counted pin. The Road Warriors retain, but the ending feels rushed and slightly confused. The match is enjoyable while it lasts and never becomes substantial enough to be memorable.

Flair and Steamboat begin with speed, counters and constant attempts to control position. Steamboat repeatedly returns to the headlock, Flair searches for cheap leverage and every escape leads directly into another competitive exchange. Nothing feels like filler because even basic holds carry the question of whether Steamboat can stay one step ahead of the champion. The Chicago crowd grows louder as the match becomes more physical.

Flair eventually attacks the leg and uses the figure-four, while Steamboat keeps finding pinning combinations whenever Flair becomes too aggressive. The referee bump creates a brief opening for controversy without swallowing the match. Teddy Long replaces Tommy Young, Steamboat counters another figure-four attempt into a small package and wins the championship. The finish is simple, decisive and historic.

This is elite professional wrestling because the match never needs a gimmick beyond two great wrestlers trying to win a title. It launches the defining trilogy of 1989 and remains one of the easiest matches from the era to recommend without qualification.