This is for Bobby’s WWF title, of
course. Each man’s national anthem is played
by way of theme music, adding a
touch of legitimacy to the affair. It should be
noted that the physical embodiment
of the title Backlund has with him is quite
garish even by 70s standards; gold
plating on a lavender (I guess its) leather
belt. Inoki gets a big pop, Backlund
respectful applause.
One of the things that makes Backlund
better – to me, anyway – than the now
standard depictions of him as boring
is his old-school attention to the nuances
of a match. Even before the collar-and-elbow,
Inoki and Backlund delay locking
up, so intent they are on jostling
for position. A frustrated Inoki dives for
Backlund’s legs; but the American
evades, almost getting an early waistlock.
But Inoki sits out.
Facing off from a neutral position
again, Backlund dives for Inoki’s legs and
scores a single-leg takedown which
he quickly parlays into an anklelock that
Inoki rolls out of in short order.
Already I’m struck by the similarities of
this to Battlarts and the like
in its emphasis on realism as a foundation.
Neutral position. Inoki lunges in
for a waistlock; Backlund with a front
chancery. Backlund attempts a hiptoss,
no go. Inoki tries likewise. No go. They
stumble into the ropes, forcing
a break.
Neutral, again. Backlund ducks behind,
scores a waistlock. Inoki counters with
a legtrip. Matwork ensues for a
few seconds, then Inoki powers Backlund back up
by working a hammerlock. Then –
and this is beautiful – Inoki with an armdrag
takedown, using the hammerlocked
arm. I’ve seen my share of the Andersons and
other, lesser lights who knew how
to work the arm. But I’d never seen this
before and it never really occurred
to me.
Despite Inoki’s creativity, Backlund rolled through to the ropes.
Neutral once more. Backlund with
a knee to the gut, then goes behind.
Waistlock. Inoki hiptoss, but Backlund
with a headscissors counter. Backlund
works the headscissors for a bit.
Inoki maneuvers, then somersaults his torso
onto Backlund’s. Backlund with
the bridge, then a backslide for 1.
Neutral position. Inoki with a side
headlock; it almost looks like a shoot, the
way Backlund attempts to get out
(or at least get leverage) but Inoki keeps
cinching in and turning the American’s
body around clockwise to disorient him.
Inoki works the headlock for a
second, then relinquishes to hit a double-leg
takedown.
The native resumes the side-headlock
on the mat, resting his weight on the
prone champion. They do that annoying
spot where Backlund keeps rolling Inoki
over for a two count until Backlund
powers to his knees. Backlund finally
standing, groggily, when Inoki
busts a somewhat sloppy flying headscissors out
of nowhere. Inoki scores the takedown,
and a matbound Backlund takes some time
powering out of the headscissors.
But power out he does, only to find himself
kicked into the ropes. Backlund
springs off the ropes, and is monkeyflipped
across the ring.
And Inoki, again, with the flying
headscissors. Inoki indicates to the ref that
Backlund is trying to submit, but
nothing comes of it, and Backlund tries to
power out for a bit. Inoki doesn’t
seem to be selling the move this time
around, and it really comes off
a bit resthold-like. Backlund powers out,
again. It’s back on, again. Eventually
Backlund bridges out and lunges onto
Inoki, clutching him with a side
headlock.
And now Inoki scores some cheap one and two counts. The genre dictates it.
Inoki finally up to his feet, backs
Bob into the ropes, and looks genuinely
furious as he whips Backlund across
the ring. Inoki attempts a legtrip as the
champ runs back, but is unable
to hold the champ: Inoki floats on top of
Backlund, who’s on all fours; but
Backlund sits out.
Neutral position. Backlund stands
with his arms akimbo and his fists balled up,
incongrously looking on the verge
of tears. They circle each other, jousting
for position, reluctant to lock
up. Inoki flinches and Backlund, again, with a
waistlock. He grabs Inoki’s left
leg, lifts him up to bring him down with the
Flair/Valentine shinbreaker.
Backlund with some sub-Flair ligament
stretching until he eventually settles on
a toehold. Nothing spinning or
anything designed for immediate submission,
though, and Inoki kicks out in
short order.
Neutral position. They lock hands,
and an amazingly quick Bobby B ducks behind
Inoki, and scores a single-leg
takedown not all that dissimilar to a dragon
screw. Backlund shows off his repertoire
of mat-based leglocks, as Inoki sells
like a champ until working into
a cross armbreaker as a counter.
Backlund maneuvers out of the armlock,
neutral position, faceoff. Inoki backs
Bob into the ropes, and a frustrated
champion balls up his fist and rears back
as if to punch his opponent. The
crowd, murmuring, bristles in mild disapproval
as one.
The workers face off again, Backlund
again with the go-behind, and he works
Inoki into the ropes – then slaps
him across the face. Inoki’s expression here
is classic; he comes back with
a lightning-quick single leg takedown, and then
stomps Backlund as he wallows on
the mat.
Backlund up to his feet, but Inoki
hits him with a stiff-looking dropkick to
the chest. Backlund whipped into
the ropes, then backdropped and covered for
one by Inoki. Backlund kicks out;
the workers retreat to neutral corners,
though you get the sense here that
the champ is like a bull being baited by an
expert matador.
Neutral position; Backlund scores
an armbar, but Inoki hoists the WWF Champ for
a bodyslam. Backlund, favoring
his back, is slow to make his feet. Inoki with a
hiptoss and then, again, the cross
armbreaker. We’re about sixteen minutes into
the match. Backlund tries to roll
out of the predicament, but to no avail. Palm
strikes to inoki’s knee don’t do
much either. More attempted tumbling by Bobby,
thwarted by Inoki who is working
his submission hold for all it’s worth. The
challenger transitions into a short-arm
scissors, and begins rocking back and
forth with a malevolent grin on
his face.
It stays like that for a while,
yep. But the payoff is cool as all fuck, and
mirrored in the Malenko/Eddy ECW
Finale to boot: Backlund picks up Inoki, who’s
still maintaining the scissors,
and teases dropping him over the top rope. But
this being 1979 and all, he puts
him on the top turnbuckle.
Then slaps the taste out of the
challenger’s mouth, sending him tumbling to the
canvas.
You could say that Backlund played
a bland face during his run at the top of
the WWF, but here he’s a surprisingly
nuanced heel. Standing over his fallen
opponent, bloodlust in his eyes
while he sells his arm, he’s anything but the
milquetoast disappointment Usenet
revisionist history has judged him to be.
Backlund whips Inoki into a corner,
but Inoki springs back with a front kick. A
successful scoop-and-slam by the
challenger, but a second attempt is turned
into a small package by the champ.
One count, then they momentarily revert to
neutrality.
Inoki backs the champ into a corner,
then beals him. Flying headscissors by
Inoki. Backlund takes a powder,
and the challenger follows. Backlund groggy on
the arena floor, and some streamers
come down from on high during the
official’s count. Backlund drags
himself to the apron and Inoki attempts to
bring him in with a suplex. The
champ blocks and widens his base, then hoists
Inoki vertically, teasing the suplex
to the arena floor that Flair did in every
major match during the 80s. But
Inoki, predictable, returns to the mat and
suplexes the champ back in.
Lateral press for 1. The crowd is
juiced. Both men make their feet. Backlund
goes behind, scores a waistlock,
then powers Inoki up; back suplex! Both men on
the canvas for a five count, then
Backlund rolls over and drops his arm onto
his opponent’s chest. But Inoki
is in the ropes.
Backlund pulls his opponent up for
a piledriver as the crowd chants the
challenger’s name. The WWF champ
jumps before hitting the move, and Backlund’s
version is as good as any southern
heel’s of that period. Even Race’s. But
after hitting the move, Backlund
flops like a dead fish to the mat. This makes
no sense; he was fine while hitting
the goddamned thing, but the impact spends
him?
Both men are prone. The referee
is counting. Inoki. . . Inoki. . .Inoki. . .
Backlund with a lateral press,
but Inoki’s too close to the ropes. Backlund
lifts Inoki up; snapmare, then
he bounds off the ropes for a Chip Minton
splash. But the challenger’s knees
are up for the block.
Backlund wallows on the canvas,
clutching his gut like it was shot. Inoki goes
to the top, and Backlund sits up.
That’s fine, but when Inoki springs off the
top he lies back down and takes
the knee drop. Kayfabe’s a state of mind,
champ. Inoki with a Hogan legdrop
for one, and both men are sucking wind.
Lockup. Backlund whipped into the
ropes, but sunset flips Inoki for one. Still,
Inoki recoveres first. Irish Whips
the champ into the ropes; hits him with an
abdominal stretch as he comes off.
Backlund’s fighting it, and the hiptoss
seems imminent, but gee they’re
working it for a long time… and Backlund
reverses the damned thing. Inoki
doesn’t bother to sell here, but why bother
when you’re just going to counter
with a gutwrench suplex as he does. Lateral
press for two, and the champ with
a weak kickout.
Inoki with the ab stretch, again.
Again, Backlund looks poised for a hiptoss,
but he works it loose and hits
Inoki with a double-underhook suplex. Two count.
Backlund pulls the challenger up,
but Inoki flips out of his attempted vertical
suplex and hits a variation of
the abdominal stretch where he’s using his leg
as a brace on Backlund’s neck.
I don’t know what to call this, but it’s
Guerreroesque in its complexity.
I would say Latino Jesus, but I don’t want to
steal terms from Steve Keith and
Dean Rasmussen.
Amazingly, Backlund crabwalks into
the ropes, grabbing the top one and forcing
the break. Inoki takes this opportunity
to look at his seconds outside the
ring, and Backlund rewards his
inattention with an atomic drop. Lateral press
for 2.5. Backlund stands up, seemingly
to collect himself, and Inoki sneaks
behind him and hits him with a
back suplex. A quick three count ensues, and
it’s quite clear that Backlund
wanted to kick out at 2.5.
20 men in red jumpsuits rush into
the ring and surround Inoki, as Backlund
looks visibly pissed and exits
only to re-enter a few seconds later with the
fire out of his eyes, doing a lame
pantomime of a quick count.
Analysis: Workers from Thesz to
Flair have given accounts of the willingness of
foreign bookers and workers to
screw US champs out of their belts. For what
it’s worth, Inoki didn’t job the
belt back to Backlund, choosing instead to
just hand it back at the end of
the tour.
I can’t definitely say that this
was a doublecross though. The heat during the
match built really consistently,
for one thing. Still, the image I’m left with
is the quick count, the premature
streamers, and the seconds rushing in and
ensconsing the new champ.
As far as the work itself, it ranged
from moments of sublime grace to really
jarring lapses in communication.
All in all, ****1/2.
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