Clash of the Champions XXXII — Bobby Heenan Swears, a Wedding Explodes and Nitro Makes the Clash Feel Old

Public Enemy's first Clash match is basically a four-minute warning label for the feud that follows. Nobody bothers establishing control because the point is to smash into guardrails, produce a table and convince TBS viewers that ECW-style chaos has entered WCW. Rocco Rock takes an ugly fall from the apron, Jerry Sags plants Johnny Grunge with a piledriver, and referee Nick Patrick finally throws the match out while the furniture is still being arranged. Then the violence continues anyway, including a moonsault onto a table that refuses to cooperate. Energetic, reckless and more useful as an advertisement for SuperBrawl than as a match.

Dean Malenko and Alex Wright get barely enough time to show why WCW's next great strength is forming underneath the main-event scene. Wright brings speed and athletic counters; Malenko brings a plan. He targets the leg damaged on Saturday Night, wraps it around the post and keeps forcing Wright to alter his offense. The superplex and bridging German give Alex a believable chance, but Dean goes straight back to the knee and catches the final roll-up. Wright appears to raise a shoulder before three, flattening the finish. Even so, the match feels modern compared with much of the surrounding show and hints at the cruiserweight identity WCW will soon formalize.

The wrestling is almost incidental because Brian Pillman is trying to convince everyone that the Loose Cannon no longer recognizes the boundary between performance and reality. Eddie Guerrero keeps attempting to have a crisp match while Pillman argues with fans, stalks the announce desk and finally grabs Bobby Heenan from behind. Heenan, protective of a badly damaged neck, reacts for real and curses on live television before briefly walking away. The match resumes, but its rhythm is gone. Eddie still lands a beautiful tornado DDT and several sharp dropkicks before Pillman steals the pin with the tights. Historically unforgettable; as wrestling, frustratingly interrupted and far below what these two could produce.

Sting and Lex Luger are champions because Sting trusts his oldest friend more than the evidence, and that character tension gives an otherwise ordinary defense a useful edge. Regal and Eaton are excellent opponents for the arrangement: technically sound enough to control Luger, theatrical enough to keep the crowd involved, and experienced enough to make Sting's hot tag land. Regal stretches Luger, Eaton drops the knee, and the challengers repeatedly cut the ring in half. A couple of late sequences misfire, including Luger failing to catch Eaton cleanly, but Sting restores the pace and forces Eaton to submit. Solid wrestling with a storyline attached instead of stapled on afterward.

Konnan and Psychosis arrive on WCW television speaking a wrestling language much of the Caesars Palace crowd has not learned yet. Mike Tenay joins commentary to translate the context while the wrestlers supply rolling Germans, quick submissions, a top-rope dropkick and a plancha that feel unusual beside Hogan-era heavyweight television. The match is short and segmented, with several impressive exchanges separated by resets instead of one escalating flow. Konnan ultimately traps Psychosis in the Ziplock for the submission. The audience response is muted, but that is part of the historical charm: WCW is testing international styles months before the cruiserweight division becomes one of Nitro's defining advantages.

The main event has star power, Miss Elizabeth's WCW debut and Kevin Greene twelve days from playing in the Super Bowl, yet the actual wrestling feels like a rerun from a program everyone has seen too often. Savage and Flair provide the reliable movement. Hogan and Giant work the power exchanges, including Hogan failing to slam Giant before eventually doing it and hurting his back. Elizabeth and Greene are essentially decorative. Jimmy Hart finally throws Flair the brass knuckles, Flair decks Savage and pins the reigning World champion while Hogan avoids the loss. The finish advances television, but the match mostly proves why Nitro has made a quarterly pseudo-pay-per-view main event feel less special.