Souled Out 2000: WCW Rewrote the Show—and Then Lost the Champion

The match is supposed to reward technical discipline, with a wrestler losing if his feet touch the floor. Kidman and Malenko barely have time to establish that style before Malenko instinctively rolls outside to regroup after an exchange. The referee hesitates, the bell eventually rings and everyone realizes the stipulation has ended the match.

The accidental finish becomes the entire story. Malenko was too experienced at conventional match rhythm and simply forgot the special rule in the moment. Two and a half minutes of wrestling disappear beneath one mistake, turning what should have been a technical showcase into one of the most infamous accidental endings in WCW history.

Vampiro has enough energy to keep the handicap match moving, while Crowbar supplies the wild bumps and David Flair works as the weakest link the babyface can target. The match repeatedly spills into loose three-person sequences that look more chaotic than coordinated, but there is at least a clear story of Vampiro surviving two champions.

Daffney becomes involved late and David accidentally collides with her, giving Vampiro the opening to hit the Nail in the Coffin for the pin. The champions lose a handicap match without gaining anything from the stipulation. Ten minutes of effort keep it above disaster level, yet the result makes WCW's tag champions look less important than they did before the bell.

The Mamalukes try to create movement with spinning kicks and quick tags, while the Harris Brothers slow the match into punches, slams and chinlocks. The styles never blend into anything compelling, and the crowd has little reason to invest because the match was added without a meaningful pay-per-view story.

Disco Inferno becomes involved around the finish and accidentally contributes to the Mamalukes' victory. The result begins moving the teams toward the tag-title picture, but almost ten minutes feel like filler inserted because the card has holes to fill. The match is technically functional and dramatically empty.

The Cruiserweight Championship once represented the athletic identity that separated WCW from its competition. Here it becomes the centerpiece of a comedy feud between Madusa and Oklahoma. The match is short, deliberately clumsy and built around character humiliation rather than presenting the championship as a serious prize.

Oklahoma eventually steals the victory and wins the title in under three minutes. Whatever satire the character is supposed to provide cannot overcome the damage to the division. The result feels like WCW mocking one of the few concepts that had consistently worked for the company. It earns the lowest possible territory on the scale.

The four-way match immediately turns into the familiar WCW hardcore formula of garbage cans, shields and wandering brawls around ringside. Finlay and Knobbs provide physical credibility, while Norman brings comedy and Meng brings the threat of sudden violence. The ingredients are more interesting than the finished match.

The action repeatedly becomes wrestlers standing around waiting for another object shot. Knobbs eventually uses the riot shield and pins Smiley to retain the championship. Six minutes prevent the match from becoming exhausting, but there is little escalation or creativity. It feels like another weapons segment rather than a championship contest.

Saturn controls much of the match with power offense, including a springboard legdrop, a top-rope elbow and repeated powerbomb attempts. Kidman survives through speed and counters, giving the bout a recognizable underdog structure even while the advertised Bunkhouse stipulation barely matters for long stretches.

The most memorable spot comes when Saturn sends Kidman over the top rope through a table on the floor. Back inside, Saturn tries another powerbomb and Kidman counters into the finish. The wrestling is competent and occasionally sharp, but the gimmick feels attached after the fact. C- credits the effort while recognizing the mismatch between concept and execution.

The Harlem Heat breakup gives the match built-in history, but the wrestling never approaches the emotional weight of the relationship. Booker moves with far more speed and urgency, while Stevie slows the bout with clotheslines and chinlocks. The crowd fades whenever Booker is not actively making a comeback.

Booker hits the Book End and appears ready to finish before the debuting Big T interferes for the disqualification. The angle becomes more important than the match and immediately pushes Booker into another convoluted identity feud. Six minutes of uneven wrestling and a run-in finish make this feel like a television segment occupying pay-per-view space.

WCW presents the match as a shoot-style fight, but the execution never creates the sense of a legitimate contest. Abbott throws punches, Flynn tries kicks and submissions, and the wrestlers spend much of the brief runtime searching for positions that look convincing under the rules.

Abbott wins after a punch that does not visually connect with the force the finish requires. The referee then uses an awkward arm-drop count while the commentary discusses a different type of stoppage. Less than two minutes are enough to expose the problem: the promotion wants the credibility of real fighting without presenting the details convincingly.

Bagwell and Page finally give the show a match with recognizable personal stakes and enough time to develop them. They fight into the crowd, use the ringside set and trade increasingly heavy shots while the ten-count creates a simple framework the audience can follow. The match feels larger than the filler surrounding it.

Bagwell survives the Diamond Cutter, Page survives the Blockbuster and both men repeatedly beat the count after major spots. The ending is unusual: Page hits another Diamond Cutter, but Bagwell rises before him and wins the match. The logic is not perfect, yet the crowd responds and the fight has genuine escalation.

B- reflects the clear match of the night. It is not a classic Last Man Standing match, but on this card competence, structure and sustained reaction feel almost revolutionary. Both wrestlers make the stipulation matter and create the only bout that consistently resembles a pay-per-view attraction.

The third match in Kidman's improvised trilogy is announced with The Wall as the mystery opponent inside the Caged Heat structure. That sounds like a major escalation, but the match lasts only about five minutes and the wrestlers have no meaningful rivalry to justify the cage.

Kidman uses a chair, hits a sunset-flip bomb and tries to create movement against the larger opponent. The Wall absorbs most of it and eventually catches Kidman with a chokeslam for the pin. A structure designed for feud-ending violence becomes a short showcase for a replacement opponent. The match is memorable primarily because the scale of the gimmick is so wildly out of proportion to the story.

Nash attacks Funk before the bell and immediately powerbombs him through a table, establishing the match as an angle about control rather than a competitive fight. Funk repeatedly gets back up and absorbs punishment, which gives the segment the stubborn resilience expected from him even when the crowd reacts more favorably to Nash.

The commissioner stipulation dominates everything. Nash promises Funk he can keep the job if he returns to the ring, then admits he is lying once Funk does it. Funk briefly rallies with a DDT and chair shots before Nash finishes him with another powerbomb. The match has personality, but the wrestling exists mainly to transfer authority from one character to another.

Benoit approaches the size difference intelligently by attacking Sid's knee from the moment he creates an opening. He uses the steps, Figure Four, dragon screw and repeated leg submissions to keep the larger wrestler grounded. Sid sells enough of the damage to make the strategy coherent and eventually earns crowd support through his power comebacks.

The final stretch improves when Sid escapes the leg work, blocks the German suplex sequence and hits the chokeslam. Benoit survives, returns to the knee and eventually applies the Crossface for the submission. The locker room watches from the entrance, giving the championship change a sense of ceremony.

The problem arrives immediately in replay: Sid's foot is under the rope when he submits. That mistake becomes the storyline mechanism for invalidating the result once Benoit leaves. C reflects a watchable match with a clear strategy and major historical importance, compromised by limited drama and a finish that becomes obsolete almost overnight.