Halloween Havoc 2000: WCW Turned a Good Opener Into Three Hours of Self-Sabotage

This is the clear match of the night because everyone is allowed to move. Jindrak and O'Haire bring size and athleticism, Kidman and Mysterio supply speed, and Wright consistently gives the match energy when he enters. The structure is closer to a scramble than a traditional tag match, so psychology occasionally disappears beneath sequences and dives. That works because the audience is fresh and the participants keep the pace high.

There are timing issues from the younger champions, but O'Haire already looks unusually explosive. His Seanton Bomb on Disqo provides a decisive finish and keeps the titles with the team WCW is trying to elevate. The match is not a classic, but it is good and easy to watch. More importantly, it demonstrates how little late WCW needed to complicate things when the roster already contained enough athletic talent.

Reno and A-Wall work hard enough to create spectacle, but the match burns through its biggest spots before there is any dramatic reason to care. A table breaks almost immediately, which makes every later table spot feel less important. The brawl moves around ringside and backstage without establishing a strong story. A-Wall hits a large suplex through stacked tables, then picks Reno up instead of trying to win, undercutting the value of the move.

Reno eventually hits the Roll of the Dice onto a table for the pin. The finish is visually memorable, but the match has already exhausted the furniture gimmick. There is enough physical commitment to avoid a lower score. The problem is escalation: hardcore wrestling needs the danger to grow, and this match starts near the ceiling.

Chavo Guerrero Jr. carries much of the structure, and that gives the impromptu match a level of competence it might otherwise lack. Chuck Palumbo and Shawn Stasiak are still developing, while Lash LeRoux provides energy without always providing precision.

The main story is tension between Palumbo and Stasiak. WCW emphasizes that tension repeatedly until the finish becomes obvious long before it arrives.

The match runs longer than an unannounced undercard bout needs to run, including multiple control stretches that flatten the crowd. The closing sequence is better, with Palumbo accidentally superkicking Stasiak and Chavo using the Tornado DDT for the win.

It is acceptable television wrestling inserted into a pay-per-view. The younger wrestlers get exposure, but the segment never feels important enough to justify nearly ten minutes.

The match begins with an injured Konnan and two women who are still inexperienced as wrestlers, which places an enormous burden on Shane Douglas to organize the action. Everyone works hard, but effort cannot solve the structural limitations. The sections involving Douglas and Konnan are the most stable because both understand positioning and timing. Torrie Wilson and Tygress struggle with transitions, and several sequences require visible pauses while everyone finds the next cue.

The crowd responds to Konnan's eventual hot tag, giving the finish some energy. Konnan and Tygress hit Douglas with a double facebuster for the win. The match is not as catastrophic as its reputation suggests, but it is still below pay-per-view quality. Too many participants are either injured or inexperienced, and the result feels like survival rather than success.

The storyline is already fighting the match before the bell. David Flair wants Buff Bagwell's blood for a paternity test, turning a first-blood stipulation into a literal sample-collection device. David tries hard and uses several mannerisms associated with his father, but he still looks uncomfortable constructing a complete match. Bagwell wrestles with noticeably less urgency and at times appears detached from the material.

A chair shot opens David up and effectively ends the match, although Buff briefly tries to continue as if a pin were required. That confusion summarizes the segment. Lex Luger's return and attack afterward become more memorable than anything between the ropes. The match earns an F because the wrestling never overcomes the gimmick, and the gimmick itself leads nowhere meaningful.

This is one of the card's clearest examples of concept replacing wrestling. Mike Sanders and Ernest Miller work a three-round kickboxing format for an administrative position, which immediately distances the audience from the strengths either performer actually has. Miller controls most of the staged fighting. The rounds never create believable competitive tension because the audience is waiting for the inevitable angle.

Shane Douglas eventually attacks Miller, the fight spills outside and Miller is counted out while the timing of the round and the count become difficult to follow. Sanders wins the commissionership through a finish that barely makes sense under the announced rules. The segment has personality but almost no wrestling value. It is confusing, overdesigned and attached to a prize that exists mainly to generate more authority-figure television.

Mike Awesome and Vampiro are willing to take risks, and that gives the match moments of physical excitement. Awesome dives, Vampiro uses chairs and the fight moves outside the ring with enough aggression to suggest something better might develop. The problem is coherence. The falls-count-anywhere stipulation is not clearly established at the start, weapon sequences appear without escalation and both men take dangerous-looking bumps without creating a stronger narrative.

Awesome's powerbomb offense remains impressive, particularly when he finally puts Vampiro away. The announcers sell the finish as devastating, which is undercut by the lighthearted music attached to Awesome's character. There is enough athletic effort for a D rather than an F. The match is still another example of WCW having useful physical ingredients and arranging them without discipline.

The handicap format is supposed to make General Rection's title chase more dramatic. Instead, it forces the match into a long control segment where Lance Storm and Jim Duggan take turns slowing him down. Storm remains technically reliable, but the surrounding Team Canada story has already consumed too much television. Major Gunns, Elix Skipper and referee interference add more bodies to a match that needs fewer.

Rection eventually hits the moonsault on Duggan and wins the United States Championship without pinning Storm. The crowd appreciates the title change and the result at least provides a payoff. The finish is better than much of the card, but the route is overly complicated. WCW protects Storm while changing the championship, again prioritizing future rematches over a clean premium-event result.

A normal Sting-Jarrett match should be one of the safest pairings on the card. Both are established stars and both understand how to work a pay-per-view crowd. WCW refuses to trust that.

Fake Stings appear one after another, representing different eras of Sting's career. One attacks in old-school colors, another evokes the early 1990s, another represents the Wolfpac period, and Crow versions appear from beneath the ring and the rafters.

The actual wrestling becomes connective tissue between entrances. Sting spends more time dispatching impersonators than building a match with Jarrett.

A guitar shot eventually gives Jarrett the pin. The finish does not make Jarrett look clever or Sting look sympathetic. It makes the segment feel like a parody of the company's own history.

Historically unforgettable and competitively dreadful.

Booker T and Scott Steiner have the strongest natural stakes on the show. Steiner controls with power, Booker fights from underneath and the crowd understands that the challenger is being positioned as the next major threat. There are useful sequences, including Steiner's suplex offense and Booker's short comeback bursts. The match also benefits from feeling more serious than the surrounding card.

Then Steiner uses the lead pipe and attacks referees, producing a disqualification. The world champion retains without beating the challenger, and the audience is told to wait for another event to receive the real conclusion. That is understandable long-term booking and poor pay-per-view booking. The work is good enough for C- territory, but the finish prevents the match from rewarding the people who paid to see it.

Goldberg still has the aura of a star and the crowd responds immediately. The problem is that WCW spends the night questioning whether he will be medically cleared, then gives the actual match less than four minutes. Brian Clark is eliminated after a spear through a table, while Brian Adams falls to the familiar spear and Jackhammer sequence. Goldberg wins decisively and keeps the artificial second streak alive.

As a television angle, the sprint would be effective. As the final match of a pay-per-view, it feels insubstantial. The score recognizes the crowd response and clean destruction. There is simply not enough match to rate higher, and the stipulation that Goldberg would leave WCW if he lost never feels remotely credible.