SuperBrawl VIII: WCW's Midcard Keeps Saving the Main Event from Itself

Booker T and Rick Martel work a straightforward championship match with enough urgency to make the title change feel earned. Martel controls the pace early, uses veteran shortcuts without turning the bout into a stall-fest, and gives Booker something solid to overcome. Booker is already connecting with the crowd as a singles star, and every comeback lands louder than the one before it.

The match ends when Booker catches Martel coming off the ropes and lands the Harlem Sidekick for the championship. Martel injures his knee during the bout, forcing WCW to alter plans for the rest of the night, but the match itself never completely falls apart. It is not a classic opener, yet it gives Booker a clean, meaningful win and immediately makes the Television title matter.

Saturn attacks Booker almost immediately, which is exactly what a smart challenger should do after watching the new champion wrestle ten hard minutes. Booker spends most of the match underneath, selling exhaustion while Saturn works with a stiffer, more methodical style than Martel. The contrast gives the two title matches different personalities even though they happen back-to-back.

The pacing becomes heavy in the middle and the crowd cools, but the final comeback has enough momentum to recover. Booker slips out of danger, lands the Harlem Sidekick, and survives his second title match of the night. WCW accidentally creates a strong character moment from Martel's injury: Booker looks tougher after wrestling twice, and the Television title suddenly feels like something worth fighting over.

Disco Inferno and La Parka are wrestling over a premise that sounds like it was invented five minutes before television went live, yet the match is better than the setup deserves. La Parka brings his usual swagger, chair theatrics, and sudden athletic bursts, while Disco is willing to spend long stretches selling so the crowd can wait for the comeback.

The match does not reach the speed of WCW's best lucha work, but it tells a coherent story. La Parka eventually brings the chair into play, only for the weapon to become part of his downfall. Disco survives and hits the Chart Buster for the win. It is ordinary in the grand scheme of the card, but ordinary with personality is still much better than several things waiting later.

Brad Armstrong is good enough to make almost anyone look better, which makes him ideal material for the Goldberg machine. He tries mat wrestling, lands a little offense, and discovers that none of it matters. Goldberg powers through him, throws him around the ring, and reacts to a Russian legsweep as though someone mildly inconvenienced him at the grocery store.

The spear and Jackhammer finish the match in barely more than two minutes. There is almost no competitive drama, so the score cannot climb very high, but competitive drama is not the assignment. Goldberg is becoming a phenomenon, and the crowd clearly understands the formula. As a squash, it succeeds. As a pay-per-view match judged on wrestling substance, there simply is not much here to grade.

Chris Jericho is becoming the version of himself WCW should have built around for years. He is obnoxious before the bell, wrestles with the championship belt still around his waist, and keeps finding little ways to make Juventud Guerrera's desperation feel personal. Juventud answers with the spectacular offense the stipulation demands, including a violent trip to the floor and several believable near falls.

The false finish after the 450 Splash is risky but effective because Jericho has reached the ropes and the match is correctly restarted. A few minutes later, Jericho counters the hurricanrana into the Liontamer and forces the submission. Juventud loses the mask, and Jericho makes the humiliation worse by rushing the unmasking. The match is fast, meaningful, and memorable—the exact combination WCW's main events often fail to find.

The British Bulldog has returned to WCW with name value and credibility, but Steve McMichael is a difficult opponent for anyone asked to create a smooth singles match. They trade power offense, punches, and ringside brawling without ever finding a comfortable rhythm. McMichael's effort is obvious, yet the transitions remain rough and the match feels more assembled than performed.

McMichael injures his arm after striking the post, and Bulldog quickly focuses on the damage before winning with an armbar. The legitimate injury makes the ending feel more coherent than much of what comes before it. Mongo protests afterward, claiming he never submitted, which gives WCW a little storyline cover. Still, this is one of the easiest skips on the show and a sharp drop after Jericho-Juventud.

Diamond Dallas Page and Chris Benoit work a face-versus-face championship match without needing a contrived betrayal or a parade of managers. Benoit brings the physical pressure, Page responds with power and counters, and both wrestlers spend the match trying to prove something instead of merely moving the plot toward Monday Nitro. The Cow Palace crowd responds because the stakes are easy to understand.

The closing stretch is particularly strong. Benoit threatens with the Crossface and keeps creating openings through sheer aggression, while Page searches for the Diamond Cutter from increasingly desperate angles. Page finally finds it and scores a clean pin. No referee bump is needed. No faction arrives. The champion simply beats an excellent challenger. On this card, that almost qualifies as experimental booking, and it works beautifully.

Randy Savage spends most of the match attacking Lex Luger's taped ribs, which gives the bout a sensible target and lets Savage control the pace. Luger sells the damage, fights back in short bursts, and eventually reaches the Torture Rack. For several minutes, this is a basic but serviceable grudge match between two established stars.

Then WCW remembers the nWo exists. Elizabeth interferes, the faction rushes the ring, and the focus shifts almost completely from Luger to Savage's deteriorating relationship with Hogan. Hogan orders the group away, abandoning Savage, and Luger finishes him with the Rack. The angle matters, but the match becomes little more than transportation for it. A no-disqualification stipulation somehow produces a finish dominated by everyone except the two wrestlers.

Rick Steiner and Scott Hall start with enough intensity to suggest a major tag-title fight, but the wrestling is almost irrelevant. Scott Steiner turns on his brother before the match can develop, attacks Rick, drops Ted DiBiase, and effectively hands the championships to The Outsiders. Hall finishes Rick with the Outsider's Edge while Scott watches his old team collapse.

As a match, four minutes cannot support much of a score. As an angle, it is enormous. Scott hands the belts to Hall and Nash and joins the nWo, beginning the transformation into Big Poppa Pump and permanently ending the Steiner Brothers' WCW championship identity. The segment is historically essential, but viewers looking for a tag-team classic should adjust expectations before the bell.

Sting and Hollywood Hogan are trying to repair the damage created at Starrcade, and the match begins with a simple goal: establish an undisputed champion. Hogan dominates most of the offense, using the belt, the floor, and the usual deliberate control work while Sting spends long stretches selling. The crowd remains invested because it still wants the conclusion WCW should have delivered two months earlier.

The final minutes become another maze. Charles Robinson is knocked down, Nick Patrick arrives, Hogan fails to receive the fast count he expects, and the nWo eventually floods ringside. Randy Savage turns on Hogan with the spray can, allowing Sting to hit the Scorpion Death Drop and finally win the vacant title. The result is satisfying. The route is exhausting. WCW fixes Starrcade by using many of the habits that damaged Starrcade in the first place.