WrestleMania X (1994): The Night WWF Finally Let the New Generation Be the Main Event

The best thing about this match is that it never forgets the wrestlers are brothers. Owen celebrates small victories because every reversal is proof that he belongs at Bret's level. Bret keeps trying to wrestle calmly because admitting anger would mean admitting Owen has gotten inside his head. The match becomes personal without abandoning technique.

The knee work gives the second half structure. Owen attacks it, uses the figure four and even applies the Sharpshooter. Bret survives and answers with the same hold, but the match does not turn into a finishing-move exhibition. It stays focused on one-upmanship.

The finish is perfect. Bret attempts a victory roll, Owen sits down on it and pins him clean. No distraction. No manager. No excuse. Owen spends the rest of 1994 able to say something nobody can argue with: he beat Bret Hart at WrestleMania.

Bam Bam Bigelow deserves credit for treating the wrestling portions seriously. His speed gives Doink something to work against, Luna commits completely, and the six-minute runtime prevents the joke from becoming another Survivor Series 1993 disaster.

The problem is the premise. The match asks the audience to accept separate rules depending on whether Dink or Luna is legal, then uses the size difference as comedy. It is broad even for 1994 and feels even more disposable when placed directly after one of the best matches in company history.

Bigelow's diving headbutt ends it cleanly, which is the right result and the right time.

The stipulation is bizarre: a pinfall only starts a sixty-second period in which the loser must return to the ring. That repeatedly interrupts the violence with a countdown, but Savage and Crush compensate by making the feud feel nasty.

The guardrail bump, Fuji's interference and the salt reversal all fit the program. Savage eventually pins Crush backstage, ties his legs to a pulley and leaves him hanging upside down so he cannot return before the minute expires.

It is less a great match than a memorable fight with strange rules. As Randy Savage's final televised WWF match, it at least gives him a definitive victory rather than quietly fading out.

Three minutes is not enough time to establish much beyond competence. Blayze moves with a speed and athleticism the division badly needed, Kai provides a veteran opponent, and the bridging German suplex gives the champion a decisive finish.

The match mostly illustrates WWF's lack of investment. A championship is defended at WrestleMania and the women receive less time than several comedy and celebrity segments around them.

This is better than the lineup suggests because The Quebecers know exactly how to build a match around Mabel's size. Mo takes the punishment, Mabel receives the hot tag and the champions use timing and double-team offense to make every exchange look more organized than it has any right to be.

The countout damages the payoff. Johnny Polo pulls the champions away, Men on a Mission celebrate with belts they did not actually win, and the match ends precisely when the crowd is finally responding.

There is useful tag wrestling here. The finish makes it feel temporary.

The opening and closing minutes contain enough energy to show what the match could have been. Luger attacks with urgency, eventually bodyslams Yokozuna again and hits the loaded forearm while the Garden finally comes alive.

The middle is the problem. Yokozuna spends huge stretches squeezing a trapezius hold, and the match loses any sense that WrestleMania is the culmination of Luger's year-long chase. When Fuji and Cornette enter the ring, Luger shoves guest referee Mr. Perfect and gets disqualified.

Another indirect Luger defeat might have worked if the Perfect feud had become something substantial. It did not. What survives is the image of Luger's push running out of road.

Thirty-five seconds cannot support much analysis. Earthquake runs in, hits the powerslam and splash, and wins before Adam Bomb has a chance to establish anything.

The segment exists primarily to continue Harvey Wippleman versus Howard Finkel, which is a sentence that explains the grade better than any star rating could. At least it understands its assignment: move quickly, give Earthquake a decisive squash, and get out before the joke can become an actual wrestling match.

The match feels revolutionary because the ladder has not yet become a catalog of required spots. Michaels and Ramon discover uses for it as they go. It is a weapon, a wall, a platform and an obstacle. Every new idea feels dangerous because the audience has not already seen twenty variations of it.

Michaels' bumping provides the unforgettable images: the splash from the ladder, the fall into the corner, the slingshot into the ladder outside, the ride down onto Razor's body. Ramon grounds the match by treating the ladder as something heavy and unpleasant rather than magical furniture.

The finish is simple and iconic. Michaels gets tangled in the ropes after the ladder falls, Razor climbs and retrieves both championships. The loser leaves the match a larger star than he entered it.

Later ladder matches would become taller, faster and more dangerous. Very few would be more influential.

The match has an impossible assignment after the ladder spectacle: close WrestleMania with a tired champion and an injured challenger and make the result feel bigger than the wrestling. Bret and Yokozuna understand that job.

Bret sells the knee from the opening match, Yokozuna works deliberately, and the crowd spends ten minutes waiting for the moment rather than demanding another classic. The finish is clumsy on paper—Yokozuna loses his balance attempting the Banzai Drop and Bret pins him—but the reaction erases much of the awkwardness.

The real finish is the celebration. Luger, Savage, Razor and the other babyfaces lift Bret up while Owen stares from the aisle. WrestleMania X ends by crowning one Hart and giving the other a reason to hate him even more.