Unforgiven 2004: One Great Ladder Match Cannot Hide Randy Orton's One-Month Title Reign

The opener gives Unforgiven exactly the kind of wrestling-first start it needs. Benoit and Flair exchange hard chops and mat counters, Regal brings a different technical rhythm against Batista, and the Evolution team can control stretches without slowing the match into a crawl. Batista is still developing, but working opposite Benoit and Regal lets his power spots feel important rather than repetitive. The crowd stays engaged because the tags create clear changes in pace. The finish is appropriately decisive: Flair reaches for the Figure Four, Benoit reverses the position, and the Crossface forces the submission. Fifteen minutes gives all four wrestlers enough room without overstaying the idea. It is a very good opener and one of the night's most complete matches.

Trish Stratus and Victoria work a competent championship match that never receives enough intensity to become memorable. Victoria controls the early pace and brings more physical offense than many women's matches from the period, while Trish is comfortable working from underneath before taking advantage of Tyson Tomko's ringside involvement. The action is generally clean, but the match spends too much time waiting for the expected interference rather than building a competitive title story. Stratusfaction ends the match decisively enough once Trish has the opening. The post-match angle with Tomko and the disguised Steven Richards immediately overshadows what the women just did. Eight minutes is enough for a solid television match, but this rarely feels like a pay-per-view championship attraction.

Tomko versus Richards is a pay-per-view segment masquerading as a wrestling match. The entire premise is built around revealing Richards as the person dressed as the mystery woman and then humiliating him by stripping away the costume. Once the bell rings, there is almost no competitive structure to rescue the idea. Tomko's offense is slow, Richards' comeback generates little reaction, and the match has no meaningful escalation before the swinging neckbreaker ends it. Six minutes feels far longer because the audience has already understood the joke before the wrestling begins. Contemporary reviewers were exceptionally harsh, and time has not improved it. This is not simply weak undercard filler; it is a badly conceived segment with poor wrestling attached.

Jericho and Christian deliver the event's clear centerpiece by treating the ladder as a weapon before treating it as a climbing device. Their history gives the opening exchanges an edge that a random stunt match would lack, and the violence escalates naturally from floor attacks to ladder shots and increasingly dangerous falls. Jericho's Walls of Jericho on top of the ladder is the signature image because it combines their existing rivalry with the stipulation instead of stopping the match for a disconnected stunt. Both men sell the accumulated damage during the final climbs, making the finish feel exhausting rather than choreographed. Jericho finally retrieves the vacant championship for his seventh reign. It is not an all-time Ladder classic, but it is excellent and comfortably the best match here.

Michaels returns from the storyline throat injury and gives Kane one of his stronger singles matches of the period. Kane controls with heavy offense and uses the announce table and steel steps to make the stipulation matter, while Michaels' selling creates a believable comeback rather than a routine sequence of signatures. The match slows whenever Kane settles into extended control, but the pace improves sharply once Michaels starts countering. Lita removing the chair from Kane gives the finish a storyline purpose without completely deciding the result for Michaels. Sweet Chin Music ends the match cleanly after Kane loses his opening. It runs longer than necessary, yet the physicality and crowd response make it a worthwhile supporting match.

The World Tag Team Championship match starts with enough movement to suggest a useful change of pace, then settles into a dull middle that loses the Portland crowd. Tajiri's kicks and quick exchanges are the strongest material, while Rhyno gives the challengers a credible power threat. La Résistance control most of the structure but never create the urgency expected from champions defending on pay-per-view. Even commentary begins looking ahead to the main event, which reflects how little momentum the match generates. The flagpole interference finish is functional heel booking and protects the challengers, but it also reinforces the feeling that nothing important happened. This is not a disaster. It is simply a forgettable tag-title match at the exact point the show needs renewed energy.

Triple H and Orton wrestle a technically competent main event that spends too much time proving its seriousness before reaching the chaos everyone expects. Triple H attacks Orton's left knee for a long stretch, and Orton sells enough to keep the work coherent, but the leg never becomes central to the finish. The crowd is quieter than WWE wants for its newly turned babyface champion. Once the referee goes down, the match becomes an Evolution angle: Flair and Batista interfere, Jonathan Coachman arrives in a referee shirt, Orton hits multiple RKOs, and the numbers finally overwhelm him. A chair shot and Pedigree onto the chair end the reign. The finish protects Orton, but the wrestling never justifies twenty-five minutes.