Uncensored 2000: WCW Made Its Own Rules and Then Forgot What They Were

Psychosis supplies most of the useful movement in the opener. His top-rope hurricanrana, legdrop and quick counters give the match brief flashes of the cruiserweight pace WCW once used to open pay-per-views with real energy. The Artist is much less fluid, and several of his strikes and transitions look awkward enough to break the rhythm.

Paisley distracts Psychosis late, allowing The Artist to recover and hit the jumping DDT for the pin. Chris Candido's debut on commentary becomes almost as important as the championship match itself. The bout is not a disaster, but seven minutes of uneven execution and outside distraction make it a poor showcase for a division that badly needs credibility.

The match exists primarily to continue Miss Hancock's management comedy. Norman arrives in Demon-style paint, the commentary team spends substantial time discussing the surrounding gimmicks and Lane and Rave receive almost no opportunity to establish themselves as a meaningful tag team. The audience reacts more to Norman's mannerisms than the actual wrestling.

The Demon gets isolated briefly before Norman receives the hot tag and runs through his familiar offense. He eventually submits Rave with the Norman's Conquest in under four minutes. Nothing is catastrophically botched, but the segment feels like low-level television material placed on pay-per-view with almost no competitive stakes.

Bigelow and The Wall have enough size to create a compact power match, but the bout barely begins before the stipulation logic takes over. They trade a few heavy strikes and collisions, then move toward the ringside table where the entire match is clearly heading. There is almost no time to establish a competitive story.

The Wall chokeslams Bigelow through the table and is disqualified after roughly three minutes. He then continues attacking David Flair and Crowbar around the stage, making the post-match stunt more important than the match itself. The segment is memorable for the scenery and crash pad, not for anything Bigelow and Wall accomplish between the bells.

3 Count create the only interesting visual moments by using the ladder for coordinated dives and trying to overwhelm Knobbs with speed. Knobbs responds with trash cans, a fire extinguisher and brute force, turning the match into the familiar WCW version of hardcore chaos. The young team looks athletic enough to make the mismatch fun for short stretches.

The rules undermine everything. Knobbs eliminates members one by one, Shannon Moore appears to pin him, and the fall is overturned because Knobbs has a foot on the rope despite the match being built around fighting anywhere. Knobbs then regains the title with a trash-can shot. The spots are watchable; the logic is not.

This is the most conventional wrestling match on the show and benefits immediately from that simplicity. Booker brings energy with strikes and quick tags, Kidman bumps hard and Harlem Heat 2000 provide enough size to create a clear contrast. The match is not polished, but the audience has an obvious team to support.

Booker eventually receives the hot tag and cleans house before Kidman uses a sunset flip, with Booker's assist helping secure the pin. The finish gives Kidman and Booker a useful victory without requiring a major swerve. Seven minutes is still too short for anything substantial, but the clean structure makes the match feel refreshingly normal.

Finlay gives the brawl credibility from the opening exchanges. He attacks with short strikes, throws Vampiro into hard surfaces and makes the trip through the concourse feel more like a fight than a tour of the building. Vampiro responds with enough athletic offense to keep the pace moving when the match threatens to stall.

The pair eventually return toward the arena after fighting through the restroom and concrete areas. Vampiro survives the heavier punishment and finishes with the Nail in the Coffin. The bout never becomes a great Falls Count Anywhere match, but eight minutes of committed physicality make it one of the easier segments on the card to watch.

The Mamalukes provide most of the movement, with Vito's kicks and Johnny the Bull's power giving the champions brief bursts of offense. The Harris Brothers slow the match down whenever they control, and the no-disqualification stipulation adds little beyond giving Disco Inferno permission to become involved. The crowd never sounds convinced the title change matters.

Disco eventually uses the championship belt, both teams trade shortcuts and the Harris Brothers win with the H-Bomb. The result puts the titles on a team that receives little reaction and does not feel meaningfully hotter after the victory. Nine minutes are technically watchable, but the division leaves the match less interesting than it entered.

The feud leans heavily on family history and comedy involving Funk's chicken, which makes the opening feel more like an angle than a fight. Once the bell rings, the bullrope gives both men an excuse to brawl and choke, but the action never develops the intensity expected from two wrestlers associated with violent matches.

Funk then tries to change the stipulation into an I Quit match during the bout, only for the referee to explain that he cannot simply rewrite the rules. Dustin eventually wins under the original structure. The confusion becomes the defining memory, turning what should be a rough grudge match into another example of WCW making its own stipulations harder to follow.

A lumberjack match should create a simple problem: each wrestler is surrounded by enemies who can throw him back into the fight. WCW adds casts, fake casts, Tank Abbott, Ric Flair, Elizabeth, Jimmy Hart and Vampiro until the basic idea disappears beneath a crowd of extra characters. Sting and Luger never get enough uninterrupted time to build their own match.

The finish is especially damaging. Vampiro hits Luger with the bat, Sting lands the Scorpion Death Drop and receives the pin after outside help. The babyface wins, but the interference makes him look dependent rather than triumphant. Seven minutes of wrestling are swallowed by a storyline involving nearly everyone at ringside.

Sid and Jarrett receive only seven minutes for a world-title match and spend much of that time waiting for the expected interference. Jarrett attacks the leg and uses shortcuts, Sid responds with power offense, and the championship never feels like the center of the segment because so many outside pieces are positioned around the finish.

The Harris Brothers distract the referee, Jarrett uses the guitar and crooked referee Slick Johnson arrives to count. Hogan then interrupts the fall, attacks Jarrett and allows Sid to retain. The champion survives, but the match exists mainly to transition directly into Hogan's angle. A world-title defense becomes connective tissue for the next match.

Hogan and Flair have enough history to produce crowd interest on reputation alone, but the match offers almost nothing new. Flair bleeds, Hogan punches and chokes with the strap, Luger interferes and Jimmy Hart becomes involved. The familiar rivalry is buried inside a gimmick that the wrestlers and officials never present consistently.

The decisive sequence is the problem in miniature. Hogan begins touching corners, the match suddenly accepts a pinfall after the legdrop, and Hogan then touches the final buckle after the bell as though both victory conditions matter. The rules have effectively changed during the match. Fourteen minutes of blood, interference and repetition end the final Uncensored on exactly the kind of confusion that defines the show.