Extreme Rules 2009: Jeff Hardy Climbs the Ladder, and CM Punk Steals the Night

The opener is a six-minute sprint that never pretends to be deeper than it is. Kofi Kingston and MVP briefly cooperate against William Regal and Matt Hardy, then the structure dissolves into rapid saves, suplexes, and quick finishing teases. Regal gives the match some snap with his knee strikes and throws, while Kingston supplies the movement and the final Trouble in Paradise. The problem is time: four wrestlers are trying to establish rhythm, alliances, and championship danger before the match is already heading home. It is lively enough to wake up the crowd and clean enough to avoid becoming cluttered, but it feels like a television four-way compressed onto pay-per-view. A useful opener, not a destination.

Chris Jericho and Rey Mysterio understand that the stipulation matters less than the feud. Jericho spends the match hunting Mysterio's mask, turning a personal symbol into a tactical weakness while Mysterio keeps finding increasingly desperate counters. The athletic exchanges are excellent, but the match becomes special because nearly every late sequence returns to that central idea. Mysterio uses a chair to escape the Walls of Jericho and appears ready for the 619, only for Jericho to rip away the mask in mid-motion and steal the pin while Mysterio protects his face. That finish is clever, cruel, and perfectly tailored to these two characters. It advances the rivalry while still giving the audience a complete wrestling match.

The Samoan Strap Match is better than its reputation-prone stipulation usually allows. Umaga's size makes the four-corners objective feel difficult for CM Punk rather than merely ceremonial, and Punk's repeated three-corner attempts create a simple pattern the crowd can follow. The leather strap gets used as both a weapon and a restraint without swallowing the actual wrestling. Punk finally survives Umaga's power, lands the Go to Sleep, and touches the fourth corner to finish a compact nine-minute match. Nothing here approaches the drama of Jericho-Mysterio, but the match understands its rules and builds around them instead of fighting them. In hindsight, Punk's opportunism also functions as quiet foreshadowing for the much larger decision he makes later in the night.

This is less a technical classic than a nine-minute love letter to Tommy Dreamer's entire professional identity. Christian and Jack Swagger give the match enough structure to keep the weapons from becoming random furniture, while Dreamer supplies the emotional hook because defeat would have ended his ECW run. Trash cans, kendo sticks, and a Tower of Doom spot create the expected chaos without stretching the bout past its welcome. The finish is exactly what the story needs: Dreamer interrupts Swagger's offense with a kendo-stick shot and plants him with a DDT for the championship. The wrestling is merely solid, but the payoff is excellent. Sometimes a result can elevate a match because the audience has been trained to care about the person reaching it.

There is no useful way to grade this as conventional wrestling because conventional wrestling is barely the assignment. Chavo Guerrero does most of the physical work while Vickie Guerrero and Santina Marella play broad comedy in mud, with the Miss WrestleMania crown serving as the excuse for the spectacle. The segment is short, which is its greatest mercy, and the live setting gives the performers some room to lean into the absurdity. Still, almost nothing advances through athletic drama, escalating stakes, or clever match construction. The humor is extremely era-specific and has aged worse than the surrounding card. Santina eventually pins Vickie after the expected slop-and-mud chaos. As a novelty segment it is complete; as a pay-per-view match it is dead weight.

A WWE Championship steel cage match between Randy Orton and Batista should feel enormous, and this one never receives enough time to become that. Orton spends much of the opening trying to escape, which fits his character, while Batista drags him back and powers through the champion's attempts to create separation. There are a few satisfying cage collisions and a clean finishing sequence, but seven minutes is barely enough runway for a feud this heated. Batista counters the RKO setup, drives Orton into position, and lands the Batista Bomb for his first WWE Championship. The title change produces a real moment, yet the match itself feels like the condensed version of a much larger fight. Knowing Batista would soon vacate because of injury only makes the abruptness feel stranger.

Nineteen minutes is an unforgiving amount of time when the central question has only one believable answer. Big Show controls John Cena with power holds and body attacks, while commentary repeatedly stresses the difficulty of applying Cena's STF to such a massive opponent. That could support a ten-minute puzzle. At nearly twice that length, the pacing becomes heavy and the lack of varied submission offense exposes the stipulation rather than enhancing it. Cena eventually uses the ropes to trap Show's leg and applies a modified hold until Show submits, producing a finish that looks more improvised than triumphant. The crowd stays with Cena, but the match asks for patience without paying it back. It is the card's most exhausting stretch because it feels longer than the story requires.

Jeff Hardy and Edge finally make the event name feel truthful. Their ladder match mixes familiar danger with enough fresh invention to avoid becoming a greatest-hits replay, including a ladder-assisted Sharpshooter, a terrifying fall through a bridged ladder, and Hardy countering an airborne attack in mid-flight. The best choice is the finish. Hardy traps Edge's legs through the ladder rungs, leaving the champion helpless while Hardy climbs above him and retrieves the World Heavyweight Championship. It is a visual ending that fits both men and gives Hardy a clean, cathartic victory after months of pursuit. The match is violent without becoming shapeless, dramatic without needing interference, and paced like a main event rather than a stunt exhibition. This is the centerpiece the inaugural Extreme Rules needed.

As a one-minute wrestling match, this is almost nothing. As an ending, it is dynamite. CM Punk arrives while Jeff Hardy is still trying to stand after the ladder match, cashes in Money in the Bank, and immediately hits the Go to Sleep. Hardy's last burst of hope comes when he survives the first attempt and nearly catches Punk in a small package, which gives the crowd just enough time to believe the celebration might continue. Punk responds with another Go to Sleep and wins the World Heavyweight Championship. The bell-to-bell content cannot justify a traditional high score by itself, so the grade reflects execution and dramatic function as much as workrate. In sixty seconds, WWE turns Hardy's happiest moment into resentment and gives Punk a new direction.