Survivor Series 2006: Big Milestones, Small Matches

Ric Flair, Dusty Rhodes, Sgt. Slaughter, and Ron Simmons are presented as a nostalgia act, and the Philadelphia crowd is happy enough to see the veterans. The match itself has almost no rhythm because eliminations arrive quickly and the Spirit Squad spend more time feeding recognizable spots than building a competitive story. Simmons disappears by countout, Rhodes falls soon after, and Flair is left to run through the remaining opponents. The final sequence gives Flair the expected feel-good survival without making the younger team look dangerous. It functions as a crowd-pleasing attraction, but as wrestling it is thin, slow, and oddly dismissive of the team that still needed credibility.

Chris Benoit and Chavo Guerrero work a compact, technically sound title match that never receives enough time to become what their abilities suggest. Benoit controls early with suplexes and pressure, while Chavo uses Vickie Guerrero’s presence to create openings and slow the champion’s momentum. The Frog Splash near fall gives the challenger his best chance before Benoit regains control. Vickie’s distraction contributes to the finish, but Benoit ultimately forces Chavo to submit cleanly. The action is competent and occasionally sharp, yet the eight-minute runtime prevents deeper escalation, leaving a potentially excellent pairing at the level of a decent television title defense.

Lita’s announced final match gives the title bout an emotional hook even though the wrestling remains uneven. Mickie James bumps with energy and fights from underneath, while Lita controls with familiar offense and nearly wins after the moonsault. The closing exchanges create a few believable near falls before Mickie lands the DDT and wins the championship. As an in-ring farewell, the match does its basic job by establishing Mickie as the division’s next focal point. The atmosphere after the bell, however, turns Lita’s exit into a degrading comedy segment, which damages the event-level memory of what should have been a more respectful retirement moment.

Team DX’s five-on-five match is memorable more for the personalities and the clean sweep than for competitive drama. CM Punk receives a striking reaction from the Philadelphia crowd, while Shawn Michaels, Triple H, and the Hardys keep the pace lively with quick tags and familiar signature offense. Mike Knox is eliminated almost immediately, Johnny Nitro submits to Punk, and the heel team never establishes enough control to make a comeback believable. The final eliminations of Edge and Randy Orton produce a loud finish, but the shutout makes Rated-RKO feel secondary. It is entertaining as a star showcase and important for Punk’s crowd response, yet structurally it is closer to a victory lap than a suspenseful elimination match.

The First Blood stipulation gives Mr. Kennedy a believable route to victory without asking him to pin The Undertaker, but the match never becomes a balanced contest. Kennedy spends much of the bout surviving while Undertaker controls the physical exchanges and repeatedly threatens to end things. MVP’s interference creates the decisive opening when a chair shot draws blood from Undertaker and gives Kennedy the official win. The post-match beating immediately shifts the focus back to Undertaker, who leaves Kennedy bloodied after a brutal chair shot and Tombstone. The result technically elevates Kennedy, yet the aftermath undercuts the upset so thoroughly that the victory feels more like a plot device than a breakthrough.

The strongest traditional elimination match on the card benefits from a broader mix of styles and a faster series of eliminations. Umaga’s early disqualification protects his unbeaten aura, Rob Van Dam and Sabu supply bursts of speed, and Big Show gives the face team a final obstacle large enough to feel meaningful. Several eliminations happen too quickly to create individual stories, but the sequence remains easy to follow and keeps the crowd involved. Bobby Lashley gains useful exposure beside John Cena, and their combined attack on Big Show produces a clear closing image. It is not a classic Survivor Series match, but it has the card’s best balance of pace, star power, and crowd satisfaction.

Batista finally regaining the championship in the same building where he surrendered it gives the main event a strong story before the bell. The actual match is deliberate and rarely reaches the urgency that a last-chance stipulation should create. King Booker controls stretches with veteran timing, while Batista’s power offense produces the loudest reactions, including a Batista Bomb near fall saved by the bottom rope. Queen Sharmell’s involvement leads to the closing belt spot, with Batista using Booker’s own weapon and taking the title. The payoff is historically meaningful and emotionally straightforward, but the wrestling is merely adequate, and the predictable outcome keeps the match from generating sustained suspense.