Survivor Series 1995: Bret Hart Takes the Belt, and Diesel Finally Snaps

The opening Survivor Series match is much better than a lineup containing Barry Horowitz, Rad Radford and Dr. Tom Prichard sounds on a marquee. That is not an insult to those wrestlers; it is an acknowledgment that WWF rarely gave this level of card position to performers living in the lower half of the roster. Nearly nineteen minutes allow Hakushi, Bob Holly, Skip and Marty Jannetty to add athletic bursts while the 1-2-3 Kid's recent heel turn gives the eliminations a story.

The match keeps moving because the eliminations are spaced around useful character beats. Holly takes Prichard out and is immediately caught by Skip. Hakushi shows off enough unusual offense to get the crowd behind him before Kid's interference helps Radford eliminate him. Horowitz receives another underdog moment by catching Radford while Radford is showing off. Jannetty's top-rope powerbomb on Skip is the most spectacular move in the match and leaves Kid alone against his former ally.

The final stretch justifies Kid being the sole survivor. Jannetty appears to have him beaten with the Rocker Dropper, but Ted DiBiase distracts the referee and Sid intervenes from the floor. Kid takes the cheap win and Razor Ramon's anger backstage gives the result immediate consequences beyond the elimination chart. Kid is not merely the last man because somebody needed a survivor; his victory feeds the next story.

B / 7.9 reflects a strong opener with a better pace and more inventive offense than much of WWF's 1995 undercard. TJR and Dark Pegasus are similarly positive, and the match demonstrates the value of giving competent mid-card wrestlers time instead of asking them to sprint through four eliminations in eight minutes.

The women's elimination match is only ten minutes long and somehow contains enough unfamiliar offense to make the rest of the card look conservative. Chaparita Asari hits a Sky Twister Press, Sakie Hasegawa chains butterfly suplexes, Kyoko Inoue attacks Aja Kong without behaving as though size should require permission, and Kong immediately establishes herself as somebody WWF's women's division has not previously contained.

The eliminations come quickly, but the pace works because the match is designed as a showcase. Alundra Blayze eliminates Lioness Asuka, Aja Kong tears through Hasegawa, Asari and Inoue, and Blayze fights back by removing Watanabe and Bertha Faye. That leaves champion against monster, the exact pairing WWF wants the audience to remember. Kong wins with the spinning backfist and becomes the sole survivor.

B / 7.8 gives the match substantial credit for doing so much in limited time. Some transitions are rushed and the commentators are not always helpful, but the wrestling itself feels fresh in a company where the women's division is usually treated as an obligation. Kong looks like an immediate championship-level threat without requiring a long explanation.

The historical irony is brutal. This should launch Kong against Blayze for the Women's Championship. Instead, Blayze leaves for WCW weeks later, appears on Nitro and throws the belt into a trash can. The match becomes both a glimpse of what WWF's women's division could have been and the last major pay-per-view chapter before that version of the division disappears.

Goldust against Bam Bam Bigelow has a sensible purpose and almost no pulse. Goldust is still new, the company wants the character protected, and Bigelow is leaving. The result is obvious and correct. The problem is getting through eight minutes of stalling, deliberate character gestures and offense that never becomes urgent enough to make the outcome feel earned.

Bigelow provides several power spots and a late comeback, but he never looks like the agile heavyweight who could make ordinary opponents work at his speed. Goldust is still discovering how to turn discomfort into wrestling rather than simply pausing between moves. A missed corner charge leads to the bulldog and the finish arrives without anything resembling a crescendo.

D / 4.5 reflects a weak match rather than a useless segment. Goldust wins, the presentation remains distinctive and Bigelow gives the new character one recognizable veteran to beat before departing. The historical value is clear even when the match quality is not.

This is also one of those bouts where hindsight cannot improve the experience. Goldust becomes one of the most memorable characters of the era and Bigelow's career remains fascinating. Neither fact makes these eight minutes move faster.

The Darkside against the Royals is less a competitive elimination match than a fourteen-minute waiting room for Undertaker's return. Savio Vega absorbs most of the punishment, Fatu and Henry Godwinn rotate through the supporting roles, and the heel team spends the early portion establishing that everyone is afraid of the masked man standing on the opposite apron. The crowd understands the assignment and spends the match waiting for the tag.

Once Undertaker enters, the wrestling effectively stops being competitive. Jerry Lawler takes a Tombstone, Isaac Yankem takes another, Hunter Hearst Helmsley is chased back toward the ring and chokeslammed, and Mabel decides survival is preferable to pride after Undertaker sits up from the leg drop. Mabel accepts the countout, leaving the entire Darkside team as survivors.

C- / 5.7 reflects a mediocre match that succeeds at its actual creative goal. Undertaker looks enormous, the audience receives revenge for Mabel's earlier attack, and the protective mask gives the return a memorable visual. There is simply little reason to care about eliminations once Undertaker finally starts collecting them.

As presentation, it works. As Survivor Series drama, it is nearly a squash disguised as a team match. The score has to grade the wrestling even when the crowd reaction validates the booking.

The Wildcard match is a concept WWF should have stolen from itself more often. Instead of arranging faces on one side and heels on the other, the company mixes rivalries and alliances until every tag creates a new reason for somebody to be annoyed. Razor Ramon has to stand beside Dean Douglas. British Bulldog is opposite the men managed by Jim Cornette. Shawn Michaels and Sid share a corner despite their history. The match has conflict before anyone touches a wristlock.

The best sequences come from those contradictions. Razor punches Douglas and helps Shawn eliminate him. Sid holds Razor for Sweet Chin Music, Razor ducks and Shawn drills his own teammate. Sid later powerbombs Michaels because accidental cooperation has limits. Razor and Michaels briefly revisit their rivalry without a ladder hanging above them, while Ahmed Johnson is allowed to throw around enough established wrestlers to announce that WWF sees something substantial in him.

The legal-man logic becomes messy enough to deserve a deduction. Sid appears to be pinned after tagging Michaels, Bulldog repeatedly enters when he is not clearly legal, and Razor's elimination is built around interference from Kid and Sid. The match survives because the chaos is thematically appropriate even when the referee would probably fail a licensing exam.

B+ / 8.4 makes this the clear runner-up. Shawn is excellent, Razor gives the match credibility, Ahmed is presented like a future star and Bulldog survives because he is next in line for a title challenge. Yokozuna is eventually left alone and falls after Shawn's superkick and Ahmed's splash. It is twenty-seven minutes of organized dysfunction, which is exactly what a Wildcard Survivor Series match should be.

Bret Hart and Diesel finally receive the stipulation their rivalry has been asking for. Their previous championship matches ended without clean conclusions, so both men remove turnbuckle pads almost immediately and behave like they have arrived to settle an argument rather than perform another chapter. Diesel uses size, Bret attacks the left leg, and the No Disqualification rule allows both strategies to become meaner without turning the match into a scavenger hunt for weapons.

Bret's leg work is the foundation. He kicks, twists and wraps Diesel's knee around the post, ties the champion's foot with a cable and uses a chair when the opportunity appears. Diesel keeps returning to brute force but sells the damage throughout, which matters because his final mistake depends on exhaustion and confidence. Bret cannot overpower him. He has to make the larger man less mobile one piece at a time.

The table spot changes the temperature. Bret misses a dive, staggers onto the apron and is launched through the Spanish commentary table. In 1995, that is not ordinary scenery being cleared for the next match. It looks catastrophic. Diesel drags Bret back inside and tries to lift him for the Jackknife, but Bret collapses. When Diesel bends down to try again, Bret reveals that at least part of the helplessness is strategic and catches him in the small package.

A / 9.4 makes this WrestleFile's Match of the Night and one of the best WWF Championship matches of 1995. Bret wins because he understands the match better, not because Diesel suddenly forgets how to wrestle. Diesel then responds to his own mercy by powerbombing Bret twice, attacking officials and announcing that he is back. The title change and character turn are one continuous story.

The match also rescues Diesel's championship reign from being summarized only by the worst opponents he faced. Against Bret, he is physical, patient and committed to selling the smaller man's plan. Bret is brilliant, but this is not a carry job. It is two wrestlers finding exactly the roles their size difference demands and refusing to protect their babyface reputations once the championship becomes personal.