SuperBrawl IV: WCW Survives Its First Hour and Finally Remembers Why You Paid

Harlem Heat are still Kane and Kole here, and the polish that later defines the team has not arrived yet. Thunder and Lightning are even greener, so the match leans heavily on simple arm work, shoulder tackles, and familiar tag-team structure. The crowd is patient rather than excited, waiting for someone to give the opening match a stronger identity.

There are flashes worth noticing. Kole already moves with unusual speed for his size, and the Heat understand how to isolate an opponent even if the transitions are rough. The finish comes when outside interference creates an opening and Harlem Heat steal the pin. It is not a compelling pay-per-view opener, but it is historically interesting as a look at two future WCW fixtures before they were fully formed.

Jim Steele is presented like a powerhouse WCW wants the audience to accept immediately, but The Equalizer is a terrible opponent for that assignment. The match has almost no rhythm. Steele throws arm drags and dropkicks, Equalizer slows him down with basic clubbing offense, and the crowd quickly realizes there is nothing here worth investing in.

The finish is abrupt rather than exciting, with Steele using the Thesz press-style Steele Trap for the pin. Modern reviews routinely identify this as one of the worst matches on the card, and contemporary ratings were even more severe. There is no hidden gem waiting for rehabilitation. The match is short, dull, awkward, and exactly the sort of undercard material that made early-1994 WCW feel thinner than its main events deserved.

Diamond Dallas Page is years away from becoming one of WCW's most dependable main-event wrestlers, and SuperBrawl IV makes that gap obvious. Terry Taylor spends much of the match guiding him through arm work, counters, and deliberate pacing. Page has the personality already, but the offense still looks like a wrestler thinking through the next step instead of reacting naturally.

The match improves whenever Taylor speeds things up and forces Page to move. DDP gets some decent control work and flashes the attitude that eventually becomes central to his appeal, yet the crowd never fully joins them. Taylor wins with a rollup after Page misses in the corner. As a developmental snapshot it has value. As a pay-per-view match, it is too long and too ordinary.

Jimmy Garvin is pulled out of retirement because Michael Hayes claims injury, and the entire setup is more entertaining than the wrestling that follows. Garvin can still stall, complain, hide behind Hayes, and irritate a live audience. Johnny B. Badd is willing to play along, so the crowd has a simple babyface-heel relationship to follow.

The problem is that ten minutes is too much for what Garvin can physically provide at this point. Badd spends long stretches working holds while Garvin leans on character work, and only the final minutes develop momentum. Badd wins with a top-rope sunset flip, then gets attacked after the bell. The crowd enjoys portions of it, but the match feels like nostalgia television placed on a major pay-per-view.

Lord Steven Regal and Arn Anderson wrestle like two men trying to outthink each other rather than impress a highlight reel. Arn attacks the arm, Regal answers with cravats and neck work, and both wrestlers constantly adjust position to prevent the other from settling into control. For viewers who enjoy slow technical wrestling, there is a lot to study.

The problem is length. Nearly thirty minutes magnify every stretch of stalling, and even strong body-part work begins to feel repetitive. Modern reviewers remain sharply divided: some consider it excellent old-school wrestling, while others call it one of the show's biggest slogs. The final seconds are clever, with Sir William's umbrella helping Regal steal the pin before the time limit. It is good wrestling stretched beyond its ideal form.

Cactus Jack and Maxx Payne bring exactly the kind of physical energy the first half desperately lacks. Payne throws both Nasty Boys around, Cactus takes increasingly reckless bumps, and the champions respond by turning the match into a fight rather than trying to wrestle something polished. The Albany crowd immediately understands the change in tone.

Cactus' apron bump is brutal even by his standards, and the Nasty Boys' control work feels dangerous rather than merely slow. Payne eventually gets the Pain Killer, only for Jerry Sags to smash him with a guitar and trigger the disqualification. The cheap finish prevents a higher grade, but the violence works because it leads somewhere: this feud keeps escalating and eventually produces one of WCW's most famous hardcore tag matches at Spring Stampede.

This is the first match that feels worthy of the event's scale. Sting is enormously over, Brian Pillman provides speed, Dustin Rhodes supplies fire, and the heel team has enough experience to keep every transition meaningful. Steve Austin's history with Pillman and Dustin gives those exchanges extra bite, while Rick Rude knows exactly how to make Sting's comebacks feel bigger.

The cage adds useful danger without overwhelming the wrestling. Pillman bleeds, the heels control him for a sustained stretch, and the crowd keeps building toward Sting's involvement. Once the match breaks down, the pace becomes excellent. Sting ultimately press-slams Pillman onto Austin for the winning fall. Contemporary Observer grading reached 4.25 stars, and even modern reviewers who dislike the show generally agree this is one of its strongest attractions.

Ric Flair attacks Vader with far more aggression than he showed at Starrcade, which immediately tells the audience the rivalry has changed. He uses the cage, throws punches and chops with urgency, and refuses to spend the opening minutes merely surviving. Vader responds with the same frightening power that made their December match so compelling.

Then WCW starts adding things. Harley Race interferes, The Boss becomes involved as special referee, handcuffs enter the story, and the cage fills with people who are not supposed to decide the championship. Flair eventually applies the figure-four and The Boss calls for the bell even though Vader's submission is not especially clear. The crowd loves Flair, and the physical work remains strong, but the finish turns a very good rematch into an overbooked setup for Vader's next feud.