WrestleMania IX (1993): The Night WWF Tried to Move Forward and Hulk Hogan Dragged It Back

WrestleMania IX begins with a match good enough to create false hope. Shawn Michaels is already moving at a different speed than most of the roster, Tatanka has enough power and momentum to make the undefeated streak feel meaningful, and Sensational Sherri and Luna Vachon give the ringside story an extra layer without immediately hijacking the wrestling.

The problem is length and destination. Tatanka returns to the arm repeatedly, Michaels bumps hard enough to keep the crowd invested, and then the match spends eighteen minutes arriving at a count-out that protects everybody and satisfies nobody. The challenger wins without the championship, Michaels loses without really losing, and the audience gets the first hint that decisive finishes will be rationed.

Cagematch currently rates the match 5.90 and lists a 3.5-star Observer rating. C-plus / 6.5 gives credit to Michaels's performance and the match's respectable stretches while docking the repetitive middle and a finish that feels designed by committee.

This is the WrestleMania IX match most likely to make a viewer briefly wonder whether the show's reputation has been exaggerated. The Steiners throw people with the casual cruelty of men rearranging furniture. The Headshrinkers are ideal opponents because they can absorb the suplexes, answer with their own power and keep the match from becoming a demonstration.

Rick's powerslam from Fatu's shoulders is the kind of spot that still looks absurd decades later. Scott's Frankensteiner is the correct finish because nothing on the card needs a complicated explanation after it happens. Two teams wrestle, one team wins, the audience reacts. WrestleMania IX should have taken notes from itself.

Cagematch currently rates the match 6.62, the highest matchguide score on the televised card, while the Observer gave it 2.5 stars. B-minus / 7.3 is a modest step above consensus because the match has aged well as an athletic snapshot of what the Steiners brought to WWF.

Doink was a better character than the costume suggested, especially when the clown was still presented as malicious rather than merely silly. Crush also has the correct role here: the large, irritated man who would like to stop being hit with fake limbs. The match itself never turns that useful premise into much wrestling.

Crush controls with power, Doink stalls and escapes, the referee goes down, and then a second Doink appears from under the ring with another prosthetic arm. It is memorable television. It is also the beginning of WrestleMania IX's habit of treating straightforward finishes as a moral failing.

Cagematch currently rates the match 3.11 and lists a 1.5-star Observer rating. D- / 4.3 acknowledges that the angle is more entertaining than the mechanics, even if the entertainment belongs closer to a weekly-show cliffhanger than the biggest event of the year.

Razor Ramon and Bob Backlund receive less than four minutes, which is enough time to establish that Backlund can wrestle and Razor is being pushed, but not enough to justify why the match is on WrestleMania. Backlund gets a brief flurry, Razor absorbs it, and a small package ends the affair before anything resembling a story forms.

There is nothing catastrophically wrong here. That almost makes it stranger. WrestleMania IX has plenty of disasters; this is merely filler wearing a WrestleMania logo. Razor wins, Backlund moves on, and the show has consumed another slot without adding much to the evening.

Because the match is under five minutes, Cagematch does not treat it as matchguide-eligible. D- / 4.4 reflects competent wrestling with almost no meaningful development.

Eighteen minutes is a long time to discover that a match has no intention of paying off its own premise. Hulk Hogan and Brutus Beefcake are returning heroes, Money Inc. are dependable villains, and Beefcake's protective mask gives the champions an obvious target. The crowd is invested because Hogan is Hogan. The wrestling keeps asking that investment to do increasingly heavy lifting.

There are punches, stalls, a Million Dollar Dream, a referee bump, Jimmy Hart pretending to officiate, the protective mask becoming a weapon and finally a disqualification. Money Inc. retain, the Mega-Maniacs celebrate anyway, and the babyfaces throw money to the crowd after attacking officials. It is not merely overbooked; it is booked as though rules can be invented and discarded between commercial breaks.

Cagematch currently rates the match 2.46 and lists a 2-star Observer rating. F / 3.4 is slightly generous because DiBiase and IRS can organize chaos better than most teams. Even they cannot make eighteen minutes of avoidance feel like a WrestleMania title match.

Lex Luger versus Mr. Perfect is the frustrating middle ground of WrestleMania IX. The wrestlers are capable, the matchup makes sense, and the first half contains enough technical wrestling to suggest the card may finally settle down. Perfect works the leg, Luger targets the back, and neither man needs a circus around him.

Then the finish arrives with Perfect's feet visibly on the ropes while the referee counts three. Luger attacks afterward, Shawn Michaels gets involved backstage, and another match becomes less about who won than how WWF plans to explain the mess tomorrow.

Cagematch currently rates the bout 4.63 and lists a 1.25-star Observer rating. C-minus / 5.8 gives the actual work more credit than those numbers while penalizing a finish that turns a potentially useful WrestleMania victory into another officiating controversy.

Giant Gonzalez is enormous. That is the beginning, middle and almost the entire strategic plan. Undertaker punches, Gonzalez chokes, Gonzalez moves with the delicacy of a radio tower being relocated, and the crowd waits for Undertaker to sit up because that is the one reliable reaction available.

The finish somehow makes the wrestling look disciplined by comparison. Harvey Wippleman provides a chloroform-soaked rag, Gonzalez uses it on Undertaker, and the referee calls for the disqualification. Undertaker later returns to attack Gonzalez, which produces more energy than the match itself managed.

Cagematch currently rates this 0.75 from 269 votes and lists a 1.25-star Observer rating. TJR went even lower with a negative rating. F / 1.2 leaves enough room beneath it for matches that become actively unsafe while recognizing that this one at least produces Undertaker's memorable recovery. As wrestling, it is a wasteland.

Bret Hart spends nine minutes demonstrating why he was champion. Yokozuna is enormous, still inexperienced at this level and visibly built for short explosions. Bret creates movement around him, attacks from angles, sells the size difference and eventually finds a plausible route to the Sharpshooter. For a moment, the match suggests WWF may actually let the new era breathe.

Then Mr. Fuji throws salt into Bret's eyes and Yokozuna gets the pin. As a protected loss for Hart, the finish is understandable. As the WrestleMania main event, the match is too short and too dependent on cheating to feel like a true coronation. Yokozuna becomes champion without the decisive destruction his push had promised.

Cagematch currently rates the match 4.69 and lists a 3-star Observer rating. C / 6.3 leans toward Bret's performance and the efficient monster-versus-technician structure. Left alone, this would have been a disappointing but defensible ending. It was not left alone.

This is barely a match, which is appropriate because it functions as an argument. Mr. Fuji challenges Hulk Hogan immediately after Yokozuna wins the championship. Fuji tries the salt again, misses, Yokozuna takes the powder, Hogan lands the leg drop and the title changes hands in roughly twenty-one seconds.

The crowd erupts. That reaction matters. Hogan was still a major star, and in the building the surprise clearly worked as spectacle. The problem is everything the angle communicates after the noise fades. Yokozuna's championship win becomes a transitional prop. Bret Hart's defeat becomes setup for Hogan. The supposed new generation closes WrestleMania watching the old generation pose with the belt.

There is no matchguide rating because the bout is too short. F / 1.0 grades the wrestling and booking as a match, not the crowd pop. As an angle, it is unforgettable. As the final statement of WrestleMania IX, it is one of the reasons the show has never escaped its reputation.