Spring Stampede 1998: WCW Has a Good Wrestling Show Until the nWo Arrives to Collect It

Goldberg had already become one of WCW's loudest attractions, but most of the streak still consisted of short demolitions. Saturn changes that. He survives the opening power, attacks with kicks and suplexes, and forces Goldberg to sell longer than usual. Kidman's involvement gives the Flock a reason to believe they can overwhelm the unbeaten wrestler, and the Denver crowd reacts strongly whenever Goldberg escapes.

The match is not polished. Saturn's dive is awkward, Goldberg tires visibly in the altitude, and the eventual Jackhammer is improvised rather than clean. Those flaws prevent a higher score, but they also make the fight feel less rehearsed. Goldberg reaches 74-0 after powering out of the Rings of Saturn and surviving the Flock, setting up the United States title match with Raven the following night.

Chavo Guerrero Jr. is wrestling for more than a win. Eddie Guerrero has spent weeks controlling him, humiliating him, and demanding that he embrace Eddie's shortcuts. Ultimo Dragon becomes the opponent through whom Chavo has to choose what kind of wrestler he wants to be. That gives every hesitation around Eddie's instructions a purpose beyond simple ringside interference.

The wrestling is strong enough to stand on its own. Dragon's kicks, mat transitions, and counters force Chavo to keep changing his approach, while Chavo answers with energetic offense and some of his best work to this point. Eddie repeatedly urges him to cheat, Chavo refuses, and Dragon ultimately catches him in the Dragon Sleeper. The loss advances the family story without making Chavo look incompetent.

Booker T and Chris Benoit enter with enough recent history that neither man needs a feeling-out process. Benoit immediately works the leg and tries to drag the champion toward a slower, more technical fight. Booker answers with speed and power whenever he can create separation. The altitude is visible in the pacing, but both men keep the match focused rather than letting fatigue turn into dead time.

The finish is classic WCW frustration attached to very good wrestling. Booker accidentally takes out the referee with the ax kick, Benoit locks in the Crossface, and Booker taps with nobody available to record it. Benoit tries to revive the official and gets caught by the Harlem Sidekick when the match resumes. Booker retains, Benoit has a legitimate grievance, and the result pushes them toward the best-of-seven series.

Curt Hennig and Davey Boy Smith are both capable of much better, which makes the emptiness here more obvious. Bulldog attacks Hennig's injured knee while Rick Rude and Jim Neidhart are handcuffed together at ringside. That setup should remove interference and create a clean wrestling match. Instead, nearly all of the attention drifts toward the cuffs and the people outside the ring.

Vincent appears disguised as a police officer, Rude escapes the restraint, Neidhart gets cuffed to the post, and Hennig steals the win after sending Bulldog into the turnbuckle. The match ends in under five minutes, yet the angle feels much longer. Contemporary and modern reviews consistently bury this segment, and there is little reason to defend it. It is pay-per-view time spent on machinery rather than wrestling.

Chris Jericho is already becoming a complete character, and his pre-match dedication to Dean Malenko does more for the segment than almost anything Prince Iaukea contributes. Jericho is smug, funny, and irritating without losing the sense that he can wrestle. Iaukea works hard and hits several clean counters, but the crowd never believes the championship is truly in danger.

The match improves in the closing minutes. Iaukea counters the Liontamer into near falls, survives a crash from the top, and briefly creates urgency with a northern lights suplex. Jericho eventually turns a sunset-flip attempt into the Liontamer and forces the submission. It is a respectable defense rather than a memorable one, with Jericho's ongoing Malenko obsession remaining the more interesting story.

The appeal is obvious: Rick Steiner finally wants his hands on Scott after the breakup of the Steiner Brothers. WCW spends the opening minutes on Buff Bagwell's fake wrist injury and a ringside examination, then gives the actual match less than six minutes. That is a strange allocation of time when the brothers are the reason anyone cares.

Rick and Scott barely interact. Buff handles most of the work, Lex Luger receives the hot tag, and Scott escapes when the confrontation with his brother finally seems ready to happen. Luger finishes Buff with the Torture Rack instead. The crowd gets a clean babyface victory, but the central issue is deliberately postponed again. The match is harmless television wrestling sold as something bigger.

Psychosis and La Parka are dropped into the card without a major story, and the audience treats them accordingly. That is unfortunate because both wrestlers immediately produce movement unlike anything in the previous match. Psychosis throws himself through the ropes, La Parka answers with the split-legged moonsault, and the pace is fast enough to wake up portions of the crowd.

The problem is that several transitions are sloppy and the match never develops emotional stakes. The crowd reacts to individual dives rather than to who wins. Psychosis eventually traps La Parka in the ropes and lands the guillotine legdrop for the pin. As a bonus match it is perfectly acceptable. On a pay-per-view already overloaded with unresolved angles, it feels like another talented act working without enough context.

The match is almost entirely about whether Hollywood Hogan and Kevin Nash can coexist. Roddy Piper and The Giant are nominally their opponents, but the broadcast has spent weeks treating the internal nWo problems as the real story. That leaves the wrestling with a strange job: kill time until Hogan and Nash finally turn on each other.

The action is slow, the pole gimmick is cumbersome, and the introduction of a second baseball bat makes the stipulation feel pointless. Hogan accidentally strikes Nash, Piper eventually gets involved with the weapon, and The Disciple keeps the cheating machinery moving. Hogan pins Piper, then attacks Nash when Nash prepares to powerbomb Giant. The angle is historically useful because it pushes the nWo split forward. The match that contains it is still bad.

Diamond Dallas Page and Raven finally get the environment their feud has been asking for. They fight through the western-themed set, crash through fences and tables, use trash cans and signs, and make the pay-per-view staging feel like part of the story instead of decoration. The violence is chaotic without becoming directionless because both men keep returning to the United States Championship.

The finish is overbooked but memorable. Flock members repeatedly fail to stop Page, and a disguised Horace Boulder finally creates the opening Raven needs. The Evenflow onto the kitchen sink gives Raven the championship and sets up Goldberg's title win the next night. Several major rating sources place this among the best matches on the card, and that is fair. It is excessive WCW booking attached to a genuinely fun fight.

Sting's title reign has already lost much of the aura created during the year-long chase, and Spring Stampede makes the problem impossible to miss. Randy Savage is a legitimate challenger and the crowd wants the match, but the story is less about Sting defending the championship than about Savage trying to seize control of the nWo from Hogan.

The match starts as a brawl and never finds a stronger structure. Elizabeth takes a Stinger Splash, the referee goes down despite the no-disqualification stipulation, Hogan shoves Savage from the top rope, and Kevin Nash retaliates by powerbombing Sting. Nash drapes Savage over the champion for the title change. Savage also tears his ACL during the finish. The moment is historic, but Sting feels secondary and Savage's reign lasts one night before Hogan takes the belt back.