12-0

The Undertaker (w/ Paul Bearer) vs. Kane -- WrestleMania XX, March 14, 2004

　

So the Undertaker spent the year still being his bad-ass, Harley riding self, until he started to feud with Vince McMahon of all people. This led to a Buried Alive match between the two at Survivor Series of 2003, and if anyone reading this has no idea what the hell a "Buried Alive" match is, man I wish I was you. Basically, a big mound of dirt with astroturf on top is placed by the entranceway, with a grave (complete with headstone) dug into it. The winner's the one who buries his opponent. Then everyone just kinda carries on with the show, pretending we didn't just watch someone die of asphyxiation, live on pay-per-view. It's considered one of Taker's pet matches, which is weird since he almost always ends up being the one that gets buried. You'd think after the first two or three times you got a mountain of dirt poured on you, you'd kinda excuse yourself out of the next one.

Anyway, Taker got ambushed by Kane, who spent his year losing his mask and his mind, in that order. Turns out underneath he was wearing a wig to conceal his my-brother-burned-down-my-home-and-killed-my-parents-and-all-I-got-was-this-receding-hairline baldspot. The end result was less Sloth from Goonies and more Bull Shannon from Night Court. Ooooo-kay. So Kane tossed Taker in the grave and McMahon poured a Caterpillar full of dirt on top of him, because why WOULDN'T they have a Caterpillar full of dirt right next to the grave they were burying a guy in in front of thousands of witnesses? I mean, GOSH.

So Kane goes around bragging about how he buried the Taker alive and stuff, even holding a "funeral" for him, but never actually saying that he "killed" him, because we don't do murder in WWE, you see. Then, 'round about the time for Mania, Kane started getting signs that maybe Taker hadn't been killed BURIED after all. A "GONG" and lights out here, a casket mysteriously showing up there, and this all served to really grind the Big Red Machine's gears. Finally, the match was signed, Taker/Kane at Mania, all the weirder since Taker was still missing when the contest was announced.

Held at MSG in NYC, there's so much sadness surrounding Mania XX, considering the two guys it was constructed to highlight: then-WWE Champ Eddie Guerrero, who would pass away only a year and a half later, and newly-crowned-World Champ Chris Benoit, who...well, sadly, you know that story. This contest came sandwiched between the two main events, making it the last match on Mania XX's card that WWE still acknowledges as occurring.

Kane comes out with a cool video show depicting the Mania set's city scape burning behind him. He continues to rant about how he killed BURIED, DAMMIT! the Dead Man. Then, the lights go out and a resounding "OH, YEEEEESSSSS" announces the return of Paul Bearer, leading the chorus line of torch-carrying Druids to the ring. (Serious side-note: Paul was offered the gig as a way for WWE to pay for his lap-band surgery, which Percy credits with saving his life. For all the shit I give WWE, they deserve mad props for that.)

Paul does a subtle nod to history (that goes completely ignored by the announcers) by glaring at Kane and saying, "My son? You're no son of mine!" Then he turns, the lights dim and the "GONG" sounds. And out walks the new/old Undertaker. The new look: Long leather coat, cowboy hat, leather pants and spandex tank top. They're going for a mix of the various eras of his character, but the overall effect (as one of my friends pointed out that night) is Jeepers Creepers more than anything.

killed BURIEDBURIEDBURIEDWEDON'TDOMURDERFORFUCK'SSAKE him is almost one of pity. Kane continues to insist that the Taker is not real, even walking forward with his hand out and eyes closed, certain he's not there. Then Taker starts punching him, and oh yes, he is.

Bunches in punches by the Dead Man to start as Kane is against the ropes, then the ol' "scare the referee into running out of the ring" trick. Taker whips Kane, who bails out to the floor to escape. Taker follows him, but Kane proceeds to hit a punch in an effort to get on offense. Doesn't work -- Taker reverses a whip to send him to the apron, then props him up there for an elbow and the patented legdrop. It should be noted that other than occasional pops for moves, the crowd is still pretty quiet. (They were actually surprisingly dead most of the night.)

Taker heads back in and gives Kane a cross corner whip, followed by two massive running clotheslines in the corner. Taker sets up for the Last Ride, which is wishful thinking at best, and Kane responds by backdropping out of it. Taker was supposed to land on the top rope throat-first to set up Kane's heat segment, but he comes about a foot short and it just becomes a really awkward bump. I would also be remiss if I didn't point out Taker's shaggy hairstyle, which just screams "I had only three months to grow it out after being informed of the gimmick change."

Kane nails a big boot to take solid control, then pounds on the prone Dead Man...who then reverses MMA style and starts pounding away himself. Taker gets up to intimidate the ref some more, then walks right into a sidewalk slam by Kane. Kane heads up for his flying clothesline to get two. We're moving at a good clip here for a big man/big man grudge match, so this all would have a lot of heat if it had any heat. Seriously, MSG was DOA by this point.

Both guys back up and a big slugfest gets won by Kane, who whips Taker to the corner...but Taker avoids the resulting charge and nails a big boot followed by a legdrop. Taker sets up for the Old School rope walk, which gets a bigger pop than anything else so far, but Kane catches Taker coming down in a choke. Taker soon responds with one of his own, and we play Dueling Neck Clinches for a bit until Taker wins and tries for a chokeslam, but Kane elbows out and hits one of his own.

Kane stands and jaws at Paul for a bit, then laughs maniacally as he raises his arms in triumph...and Taker, of course, sits up. Kane just stares at him in stunned silence as he stands. Time for a game of I Block, You Don't, won by the Taker. He then tries a whip, but Kane kicks him to avoid the back body drop...and Taker just stands up, annoyed.

Another whip gets reversed and Taker nails the flying clothesline, then a BIG chokeslam. Man, Kane has his bumping shoes on tonight. Taker gives the sign and hits the Tombstone for the academic 3 count. It was short, but fast-paced and to the point. I'd say it was actually a more entertaining match than their first Mania encounter, with only the dead crowd detracting from it. And anyway, this wasn't about the match so much as the moment of the classic Dead Man returning.

11-0

The Undertaker vs. The Big Show and A-Train -- WrestleMania XIX, March 30, 2003

Taker returned to being a babyface over the summer in the midst of a feud with Jeff Hardy, and had an epic feud with Brock Lesnar which was a big step in Brock becoming the monster he became. Of course, the very next month they turned Lesnar face for a feud with Big Show, because, seriously, I mean it this time, fuck logic. (They didn't even have Russo to blame for mistakes like that anymore.)

This match was originally scheduled to be Taker and new running buddy Nathan Jones (an Aussie wrestler whose WWE gimmick was that he used to be a convict, which was an easy gimmick for Jones because...he used to be a convict) vs. Show and Train, but cooler heads realized that Taker's undefeated singles streak took precedence over squeezing a talentless lug into this match. So Jones got "attacked" earlier in the day and this was made a handicap match.

Bizarre moment: We overdub Limp Bizkit again, even though the band was ACTUALLY ON THE STAGE performing the song this year. Taker hadn't even been using that song for months, and had changed to an in-house piece with thoughtful lyrics like, "Bad asses always kick an asshole's ass." Jim Johnson always knew how to craft emotional phrases that cut right to the human soul, ya know?

Big Show is, of course, Paul Wight, the former Giant, four years into his WWF/WWE run here. Wight has always been a serviceable big man in the ring, though looking back at his WCW days, where he was phenomenally agile and hard-working, kinda makes you sad at what WWE fans have never really seen out of the big man. A-Train is the former Albert and the current Lord Tensai, who became a huge star in Japan after his WWE run ended, and will probably be again when this current run ends. Which, given how he's being booked, should be any day now.

A-Train plays with and spits on the Taker's bike before the match, drawing amazing, mega, unreal heat. Wait, sorry, I mean, no one cares. This gives Big Show an opening to attack from behind, but Taker ducks down and Show goes barrelling over the top rope. Train tries to attack, as well, but Taker easily avoids that, too. Way to establish your heels' credibility right out of the gate.

Taker quickly chokeslams Train, but Big Show pulls Taker off the resulting cover and drags him to the floor, but Taker easily ducks a blow, nails Show and dives back into the ring. So far this is the wrestling equivalent of Elmer Fudd and Yosemite Sam trying to hunt Bugs Bunny. Big Show heads in and shoves Taker to the corner, but Taker immediately fights back with punches. Show quickly retreats and talks strategy with his partner, because when you wanna discuss how best to lay out a plan of attack, you want the advice of the guy who thinks wearing multiple piercings during a wrestling match is a wise move. Albert's advice: "Kick his ass!" I'm pretty sure Patton said the same thing to the troops before Normandy.

Big Show launches Taker to the corner, but Taker responds with blows to both guys and gets out of it. Maybe the heels should get some offense here, Dead Man? A-Train tags and finally gets some blows in. Train runs the ropes and Taker busts out a LEAP FROG followed by a hip toss. Yowsa, Dead Man, bringing the moveset. Old School rope walk nails Train, then Taker swats away at Big Show as he tries to enter, giving Train the opening to hit the Baldo Bomb on Taker. Oh, wait, I'm sorry, it's now "The Derailer." He's all locomotive-themed now, of course.

Train tosses Taker to the floor where Big Show rams him back-first to the post, then drops him on the rail. Big Show tosses him back inside, where Train gives him a slingshot into the middle rope. Cole calls this "the Decapitator." Well, that's depressingly non-train-related. How about "The Rail Tie" or something? Have some imagination, guys. Cover for two. Train rubs his forearm on Taker's face (uh...the "Dining Car?").

Tag to Show, but Taker quickly begins to fire back with shots. Whip to the corner gets reversed, but Taker hits both heels in response. Show suddenly sets up for a chokeslam, but Taker counters it into a Fujiwara armbar, typical of his incorporation of more MMAish moves into his moveset, even after he returns to being the supernatural force he once was. Hey, even zombies love UFC. Wonder why Zuffa never used that as a slogan?

Train dives in to help, but Taker cuts him off before he even hits a blow. Geez, Taker, I'm starting to feel bad for these guys. Can they get some offense, please? Taker applies a cross arm breaker, but that leaves him wide open for a huge legdrop from Show, and now it's time for a heat segment. Maybe. I'll believe it when I see it.

Couple of big headbutts by Show, which Taker sells like he is a Weeble -- he wobbles, but doesn't fall down. Then, an...abdominal stretch? By Big Show?! Show even grabs Albert's arm to give it the full old school heel tag team effect. Show tags Train in, then HE slaps on an abdominal stretch, too. I guess Bob Backlund was giving a seminar in the back and they both really, really liked that hold. Taker struggles for a bit until he nails Train in the face and...slaps on an abdominal stretch of his own. Or maybe there was a bet -- what's the most ancient move we try to get over in this match? Whoever put money against them, they won.

Train pokes Taker in the eye (The "Railroad Spike?") to get out of it, but Taker hits a back suplex, which Cole bizarrely calls a "gut wrench." Maybe he's referring to his commentary. Taker runs the ropes but Show nails him from behind, then a big Train clothesline (The "Northbound Route") gets two. Show starts jawing at Taker, then nails a slap and a few punches on the ground. Taker, still prone, begins to fire back, then punches in bunches. A reversed whip leads to a huge jumping DDT by Taker, but Show breaks up the pin.

Taker begins pounding on Show in response, then a bunch of running cross-corner clotheslines on both guys. Taker teases a chokeslam on Big Show, but Train breaks it up by hitting the devastating Running Chin Attack onto the Undertaker's Boot. (The "We Forgot to Hook Up the Caboose.") Show gets back on the attack, but Taker hits the flying clothesline in response. Train hits the bicycle kick (The "Ticket to Deride") on the Dead Man, and then Show chokeslams Taker.

Instead of going for the cover, Show takes the odd tactic of jawing at the ref and then heading to the floor and running up the aisle, because Nathan Jones is coming to the ring. Of course, he got way to late a start to interrupt the pin or anything, but Show is clearly way too easily distracted, so it worked anyway. Big kick to the head by Jones sends Show sprawling. Train covers Taker for the belated two.

Jones gets into the ring and big boots Train after a reversed Taker whip, which garners no DQ because the referee clearly has no idea what the hell he's doing. Taker muscles Train up for the Tombstone, 1-2-3. If memory serves, this was Jones' first and last WWE PPV appearance, which should tell you something. Anyway, this was a perfectly entertaining handicap match, and subtracting Jones from it was really for the best anyway.

10-0

The Undertaker vs. Ric Flair (No Disqualification Match) -- WrestleMania X-8, March 17, 2002

　

So a year has gone by and the entire Invasion angle has come and gone, setting the wrestling world on fire. In a "scorched earth and millions in dollars burnt to a crisp" way, that is. So Taker spent that time in a feud with Diamond Dallas Page, who had morphed into a creepy guy stalking his wife, then as one of the front line for Team WWF. And of course, as soon as the angle was over, Taker turns heel, because, seriously, fuck logic.

Also on that front, the DAY AFTER WCW was buried forever, WWF trots out the returning Ric Flair as new "co-owner" of the company, just in the nick of too late to do the Invasion angle any damn good. He feuded with Vince McMahon for a bit, then transitioned to a feud with the Dead Man leading up to Mania. This was all setting up the big split where Raw and Smackdown became separate brands, with Flair controlling Raw and Vince handling Smackdown.

Anyway, Taker hasn't changed anything with his heel turn, except in the form of a massive haircut. Still rides the hog, still comes out to Limp Bizkit (though again it's edited out of this release) and still garners tons of cheers as he enters. Ross makes mention of Taker's 9-0 record, as it's becoming a bigger deal by this point. Fun fact: This would be the last "WWF" WrestleMania, as just a few months later legalities would mutate the company into the "WWE" it remains today.

Oddly, it seems like they're overdubbing Flair's music, too, though it's still "Also Sprach Zarathustra." What, did they somehow lose the rights to the specific recording they used? It's a public domain song, for pete's sake. Flair strips off the robe and dives in right away, hammering away on the Dead Man. Big blow sends Taker to the floor, and the brawl continues as Flair tackles Taker over the announcer's desk. The English one, for the record, which doesn't break. More obvious table racism. Keep fighting, my Spanish table brothers! IKEA! IKEA!

Flair continues the pounding on Taker, then lets out our first Mania "Whoo!!!" in ten years. Flair keeps up the assault, shrugging off any blows Taker throws his way. Taker retreats back into the ring, but Flair's hot on his heels and continues with the blows until Taker tumbles to the floor again. Flair goes all LUCHA on us, attempting a dive from the apron, but Taker catches him and rams him to the post. Ross brings up Flair's broken back, which happened nearly 30 years before this match occurred, but who knows, it may still be tender.

Taker tosses Flair to the steps then back inside, but Flair's up already and gets right back on the assault. Strange, you'd figure that woulda started a Taker heat segment. Taker gets whalloped by multiple Flair blows, but quickly responds by tossing Flair to the corner and firing away at the midsection and head. Taker whips Flair to the corner, and Flair tries to do one of his famous Flips, but he can't even clear the top rope with both feet. Sigh.

Taker gets right back on the assault after the miscue with blows in the corner, then whips Flair again, and this time Flair hits the Flip, just in time for Taker to give him the big boot to the floor. Taker is bleeding from the cheek, which I seriously doubt is a bladejob. Um, ouch. Taker heads out after Flair and yells, "Now we go to school," which is just insult to injury. He drops Flair in the timekeeper's chair and starts wailing away with punches, then walks away to jaw at the ref, Jim Ross, fans, whoever is available to jaw at as long as it gives Ric time to blade.

Taker continues the assault on the now-bloody (SHOCK! SURPRISE!) Flair. We finally head back in and Taker boots the woozy Flair while he remains on the mat. A few blows in the corner and Flair flops to the mat in exhaustion. But when he gets up, Flair lights up Taker's chest with chops that almost echo. Flair tries a whip to the corner but Taker reverses, then a big clothesline puts him back in the driver's seat. More pounding by the Dead Man leads to the delightful sight of a drop of Flair's blood on the camera lens. Yee-uck.

Back up and Taker continues the attack with a whip and clothesline, then he puts Taker on top for one hell of a top rope superplex, then a cover...for two, but only because Taker picked Flair up. Usually, that's the first mistake of the villain who will lose in shame as a result of his own hubris. You know, something tells me that ain't gonna happen here. What would that be? Oh yeah, the fact that I'm watching this on a DVD set dedicated to Taker's undefeated streak.

Taker grinds his forearm on Flair's forehead, leaving a bloody smear down Taker's arm. Flair lets fly with a chop, but Taker quickly pounds Flair back to the ground. Taker drags Flair to the apron, then hits elbows to his neck from the floor, followed by his big legdrop on the apron. Back in, another cover, another two, another pick-up by Taker. More pounding by the Taker, and after that initial flurry, this match has become watching Flair get mauled for minutes with no response. While Flair is awesome at selling, this is getting a wee bit tiresome, dudes.

Ross: "One of these days, someone's gonna kick ol' Booger Red's ass!" Yes, he's talking about Taker. "Booger Red" was actually a nickname Ross tried to use for Taker for a while. First off, how comparing a major star to snot was supposed to be a great marketing strategy, I have no idea. And second, if your boogers are red, see a doctor.

Taker finally misses an elbow drop, giving Flair an opening to start chopping away until Taker hammers him back down to retake control. Taker sets up the rope walk, but Flair drags Taker down. Flair starts chopping away again, but Taker catches him in a sidewalk slam for two. (Flair actually kicks out this time.) Taker tries a big boot but Flair ducks and Taker kinda-sorta crotches himself on the top rope. Flair again hits chops to send Taker to the floor. You know, for the greatest wrestler of all time, Flair has basically done nothing but punch, chop, punch, chop. I know he's long in the tooth by this point, but let's bust out the moveset here, Ric.

Flair heads to the floor and rakes Taker's face, then grabs a lead pipe from his chopper. At this point, I'll take some weapons shots, just for variety in Flair's offense. A few blows from the pipe and now Taker's bleeding, too, just to raise the likelihood of Hepatitis C. Be careful, you don't know where ol' Naitch has been, Dead Man. Taker tackles Flair to the apron, sending the pipe rolling hilariously across the ring and to the opposite floor, as the combatants watch. I'll betcha dollars to donuts we had more spots with that pipe that we now have to cancel. Ah well.

Taker drags Flair up the aisle and tosses him to the barricade, then walks away for a seconds so Flair can grab a "Keep Off" sign to hit him with. Back inside we go for piston punches to Taker's cranium, but Flair walks right into the goozle...but Flair low-blows Taker before he can hit the chokeslam. Flair slaps on the Figure Four, which may be the first wrestling hold Flair has used in this match, and Taker struggles and almost gets pinned...then sits up and goozles Flair again to break the hold. Taker hits the chokeslam, selling the knee the whole time. Cover for two, and Taker's put on his "What the hell?!?!?" facial expression for emphasis.

Taker pounds away and then covers Flair for two again. Taker launches a formal protest of the referee's call by ramming him to the corner, then heads to the floor to retrieve the lost pipe. Oh, Pipey, how we've missed you! Welcome home! Poppa Booger and Momma Naitch have big plans for you! Taker heads in but Flair cuts him off with more chops, then whips him...and sidesteps as ARN FREAKING ANDERSON comes outta nowhere to hit his epic spinebuster on the Dead Man. HELL YEAH. It only gets two, though, and the kickout sends Flair to the floor.

Taker decides to pound on Anderson for a bit in retribution, busting Arn open, as well, then applying a dragon sleeper, apparently hoping to get a tap out from the guy not in the match. This is a legally questionable tactic, but it means more Arn Anderson in this match, so let's go with it. Up comes Flair to blast Taker with a chair a buncha times, which Taker finally stops with a big boot to the face. Taker tries to give Flair the Last Ride, but Flair can't go up for it, so Taker changes his mind and hits the Tombstone for the pin. Taker counts the wins on his hands and signals "TEN" to the crowd to celebrate. Flair tried, I'll give him that, but with his endless punch-chop approach and Taker's lopsided dominance, and this ended up a pretty lackluster match.

9-0

The Undertaker vs. Triple H -- WrestleMania X-7, April 1, 2001

　

The intervening two years were quite the interesting time for the Dead Man. For one thing, he really wasn't the Dead Man anymore. After a long injury-enduced hiatus spanning from September of 1999 through May of 2000 (missing the infamous WrestleMania 2000), the Undertaker returned with an entirely different gimmick than he had before -- out was the supernatural Lord of Darkness, in was the American Bad Ass, a bandana-wearing, sunglasses-sporting brawler who rode a Harley to the ring. It freshened up the Taker's persona considerably, to be sure, and was a quick and easy way to wash the bad taste the Ministry of Darkness era out of our mouths.

Speaking of complete re-inventions, his opponent on this night had seen a slew of them in a very short amount of time during his WWF run, as well. Back in mid-1995, this guy named "Hunter Hearst Helmsley" first showed up on TV, an "American blueblood" and a decent worker who had absolutely no ability to draw crowd interest as a heel. For two years they consistently pushed him to little effect until he joined up with his pal Shawn Michaels in the initial run of D-Generation X. Then, when they decided to turn the now-dubbed "Triple H" heel again, the crowd interest died out once more. So they A.) Gave him a monster push, B.) Put the WWF Title on him, C.) Had him beat everyone in creation, D.) Marry the boss's daughter, E.) End Mick Foley's career and F.) Become the first heel in history to win the WrestleMania main event. And what do you know, he got over.

This is not to disparage HHH's work in the ring -- he's turned in enough classic matches by now that even the most strident of naysayers (like me) have to admit the guy has a lot of talent between the ropes. This is to point out how for all WWE's bluster about how guys aren't "stepping up" and "need to connect to the crowd," there's a prime example in the front office about how if you focus EVERYTHING on getting one guy over, you'll get him over. There's a hilarious moment in the new CM Punk DVD set where HHH, discussing Punk's first world title run, talks about how he firmly believes you don't put a title on a guy to "make" him, you "make" the guy and put the title on him. I almost shouted at the screen, "Oh, like YOU had earned it back in '99, Paul?"

But I digress. The story behind this match is actually fairly simple: HHH was giving an egotistical promo about how he's beaten everyone and has no challenges left, and the Taker emerged to say, uh, you've never beaten me, so there. So, a few brawls and backstage attacks later, here we are. Motörhead is present to play HHH's music for him, which turns out to be a hilarious choice, as it's clear that Lemmy has little idea what the lyrics and rhythm are for the song, so he ends up repeating "Time to play the game" over and over at seemingly random intervals. Speaking of music, Taker's theme at the time, "Rollin'" by Limp Bizkit, gets overdubbed on this release, as well.

We start right away with brawling on the floor, and Taker sends HHH into the replacement Spanish announce table, which had already been destroyed earlier in the night. A blow sends HHH onto the new table, which collapses, as well. Yeah, that's what happens when you try to start a union, man. Tell your table friends. Jim Ross casually mentions that the Taker is 8-0 at Mania, underscoring how the streak is more a minor factor in his Mania matches at this point, rather than the main focus.

Taker sends HHH into the ring and the bell officially rings to start the match. HHH punches and kicks to try and get on offense, but the Taker fires back. Thanks to World Wildlife Fund lawsuitery, we're solidly in the "these turnbuckles, crew shirts and ring aprons are brought to you by BLUR" era of WWF history. Supposedly, they're taking care of these legal problems and older footage from this era will no longer have to be blurred out. And thank GOD for that.

A high knee by HHH puts Taker down...for about a second. Taker tosses HHH to the corner and pounds away, then whips him for an insanely high backdrop. Big clothesline in the corner, then a cross-corner whip and hitting it again, then a casual powerslam by the Dead Man. Taker misses a big elbow, however. Ross mentions how the Taker grew up in Houston, which reminds me of a funny moment: At one of the Mania press conferences, Taker mentioned that this was his hometown, then added wryly, "Bet you didn't know Death Valley was in Houston."

Back up, HHH nails some shots, but a whip goes awry as Taker hits the flying clothesline in response. Arm wringer leads to the now-dubbed "Old School" rope walk, but HHH counters it with an arm drag off the top. Both guys up, and HHH ducks a Taker punch to hit a neckbreaker for two. Piston punches to Taker's face, then an elbow from the apron as he leans on the ropes. More punishment on the apron by HHH, then back in for another neckbreaker for a trio of two counts. HHH gets in the ref's face, and the ref proudly points to the BLUR on his chest to say "RESPECT MY AUTHORITAH!"

Taker starts to come back with rapid punches to the gut, but a whip gives HHH the opening for his facebuster. Trips heads out to the timekeeper, who for no apparent reason has a sledgehammer next to him. Maybe the ring bell was being stubborn and he was trying to teach it manners? HHH, per usual, stares at the sledge in a wildly uncomfortable fashion. Teacher. Mother. Secret lover.

Back in and HHH tosses the ref aside and tries to nail a kneeling Taker with the sledge, but the ref grabs it from him just in time. Taker sneaks up from behind but HHH ducks and sets up for the Pedigree, but Taker scoops the legs and catapults HHH...right into the ref. Set your clocks, as Mike Chioda is about to enter an impressive time in the "how long can a ref be knocked senseless?" Olympic trials.

Taker hits a HUGE chokeslam on HHH (Trips ALWAYS gets height on that), but Chioda, still wonky, only gets two. Taker, ever the mature and responsible individual, kicks and elbows Chioda. Hey, YOU'RE the one who whipped HHH into him, dude. That's our Taker, always blaming folks for his own problems. I'm beginning to think you never really WANTED the Urn back at Mania XI. And did you EVER apologize to Boss Man for trying to hang him and so forth? I think you need a time out to reflect, young man.

Anyway, Taker back on the assault and sends HHH over the top to the floor. Taker follows him out and a-brawling we do go. HHH sends Taker to the steps and takes a running start...and Taker backdrops him into the crowd. Um, ouch. So they brawl into the crowd heading back all the way to where the cameras and equipment are set up for a brawl amongst the mixing boards. They ascend the scaffolding set up where HHH nails Taker with a chair in the gut and back, then a shot to the head. HHH relentlessly pounds on Taker with the chair for nearly a minute, then lines up one big shot...but Taker catches HHH around the throat and chokeslams him OFF the scaffolding, which is one hell of a visual. You can see fans chanting "Holy Shit," which of course gets overdubbed on this TV-14 release.

The impact of HHH's fall is lessened slightly when the cameras catch up with him, and it's apparent from the angle that he fell only a couple feet. Then a replay makes it apparent he landed on a crash pad, but hey, I'm absolutely all for protecting the guys. Just woulda played better if we hadn't seen where he had fallen. Some EMTs start surrounding HHH (but not the still-unconcious ref in the ring, because seriously, fuck refs), and Taker cuts them off by dropping an elbow off the scaffolding onto Trips below. Another cool visual ruined by the poor choice of camera angles.

The EMTs again try to gather HHH, but Taker shoves them away and starts pounding away on Trips. Back through the crowd we continue to brawl, and someone seriously has a BILLY JACK HAYNES sign, which I gotta admit makes me smile. Not because I'm a fan of a minor worker who had a barely noteworthy WWF run, but because some fan actually decided it was worth it to make and bring a sign devoted to him in 2001. Bless you, irony-devoted fan, bless you.

FINALLY we get back to the ringside area as Chioda is STILL down, seven and a half minutes after initial contact. You're close to the record, Mike, don't give up! Back into the ring we go, and Taker casually walks over and picks up the sledge, which HHH had used to bust him open in the build-up to the match. HHH begs off as Taker stalks him, but he's able to cut him off with that classic amateur counter to the sledgehammer attack, the Greco-Roman Kick to the Testicles. Frank Gotch would be proud.

HHH tries a charge with the sledge himself, but Taker stops him with a big boot. We're now at TEN minutes since Chioda went down. Keep at it, Mike, you're setting new standards in referee wimpiness! We're all behind you! Slugfest between HHH and Taker, which would be accompanied by the ironic "Yay!" and "Boo!" chants if it happened at a modern Mania. Trips finally wins and tries a whip, but it's reversed. HHH ducks a shot and sets up for...a Tombstone? Uh, yeah, dude, I think we all know how this is going. Sure enough, Taker reverses it into a Tombstone of his own. Cover, but Chioda will NOT be denied his place in unconciousness history, so no count.

Taker, who personally knocked out Chioda, shakes him in an effort to wake him up. And as he does, you can see the turmoil on his face. Taker realizes he's hoisted on his own petard. I caused this, Taker thinks. The crushing weight of all he has done wrong in his life comes down on him, as he reflects on all his problems and how no one bears that burden but himself. That's it, Brother Mark, let it out. Take responsibility for your own actions. You alone can change things for the better. The world is taught a valuable lesson about personal responsibility and learning to take charge of your own circumstances. Then Taker says, to hell with this, time for the Last Ride.

sets HHH up for the powerbomb, but Trips covertly picks up the sledgehammer from the mat as Taker starts to execute the move, then BLASTS Taker in the face with it as he's hoisted up. HHH covers, Chioda finally decides to end his record effort at a heroic time of 11 minutes and 24 seconds (CONGRATULATIONS!), and counts...two. The crowd goes nuts. Taker is bleeding like hell from the shot as HHH gets back on the attack, pounding on Taker in the corner. He climbs the ropes for better leverage and takes a moment to jaw at the crowd...uh, yeah, bad move. Taker grabs him and hits the Last Ride out of the corner, 1, 2, 3. We overdub "Rollin'" after the match, too, just to make it more annoying. One HELL of a brawl, and pretty easily the best match so far of the Taker's streak. And for the most part, it only gets better from here.

8-0

The Undertaker (w/ Paul Bearer) vs. The Big Boss Man (Hell in a Cell Match) -- WrestleMania XV, March 28, 1999


Oh, what a difference a year makes. Just a Mania ago, the Undertaker was a babyface teaching his upstart villainous brother a lesson and being opposed vehemently by his former manager. Then Taker and Kane reconciled long enough for them both to win the WWF Title, then Paul Bearer turned on Kane and rejoined the Undertaker, who then got buried by Steve Austin in a match and returned as the leader of a cult called the "Ministry of Darkness," but really now we're saying he's just a guy who has "gone too far into his character" because he's not really The Undertaker, except for the part where he's Kane's brother 'cuz that's totally real and now the Ministry is feuding with Vince McMahon's "Corporation" crew because why not and that makes the evil Ministry the de facto babyfaces JESUS CHRIST DOES RUSSO SUCK EGGS THROUGH A STRAW.

Anyway, this is the big WrestleMania contest between the Ministry and the Corporation. and what a horrible idea for a match. First of all, Boss Man is hardly a credible opponent for the Taker, as he's nowhere near over enough to be in the semi-main event slot on a Mania. Second, the whole Ministry/McMahon feud was so convoluted and absurd that no fan knew who the hell they were supposed to be rooting for. The announcers at this point were trying to sell the Ministry as the faces, but it just wasn't working, and by the next month's PPV we'd totally reverse course and make MCMAHON the babyface, then it turned out that McMahon was the guy behind the Ministry all along, because, seriously, fuck logic.

And three, putting these guys in Hell in a Cell just gave them an insurmountable task. The first two matches (Taker vs. Shawn and Taker vs. Foley) were all-time classics, and there was simply NO way Taker vs. Boss Man could live up to that. Just a straight-up singles match might have still sucked, but at least it wouldn't have that legacy hanging over it like the sword of Damocles.

Taker had his second theme song here, a somewhat rockin' guitar riff that I actually liked quite a bit (even if it sounded like evil Christmas music), made "heelish" by adding Taker chanting in Wiccan or something and "Accept the Lord of Darkness as your savior" soundbites. He comes out in a cape with big, spiky shoulder pads that he stole from Shredder's winter wardrobe.

Boss Man ducks an early lunge by Taker to start, then rifles blows at Taker's face in the corner. Taker tosses Boss Man to the corner and fires rapid blows in response. The crowd, killed by a lousy Mania and utterly confused by the storyline, couldn't care less. Irish whip by Taker, but he catches an elbow by Boss Man, then clotheslines Boss Man down anyway. Cover for two.

More punches and kicks by the Taker, but Boss Man counters a whip with a neckbreaker. Boss Man gets two. Boss Man jaw jacks at Taker for a bit, and Taker does the zombie sit up to NO reaction, and that's gotta be a first. Boss Man boots him down. Boss Man yells at him some more, another sit up, but this time Taker catches the boot and takes Boss Man down to hammer him on the mat.

Boss Man slips to the floor and grabs Taker's legs. Taker kicks Boss Man, who proceeds to take the weakest bump into a cage in wrestling history. The Angry Video Game Nerd took more impressive blows fighting the Klingon in the "Star Trek" episode. Taker follows to the floor to shove him into the cage again, then again in a bump that somehow outdoes the first bump he took for sheer lameness. Bravo, Ray, well played.

Boss Man reverses a whip to send Taker to the cage as Michael Cole informs us of the dangers of Hell in a Cell: "You can get a finger caught in there!" Even Lawler has to point out how ridiculous that potential hazard seems, on balance. "After what we saw Mick Foley go through, you're worried about getting a finger caught in there?" Boss Man produces a set of handcuffs and proceeds to cuff the Taker to the cell, then fetches his nightstick and wails on Taker with blows. The crowd is deep in a game of "whoever reacts first loses," and so far everyone's still playing.

The Taker falls from Boss Man's blows, which snaps the cuffs apart, because Boss Man apparently shops at whatever the Law Enforcement Supply House equivalent is of Big Lots. Boss Man continues to beat on Taker, who is bleeding. Well, okay, "bleeding" is a bit of an overstatement. I got more juice from my last hangnail than Taker is sporting here. More blows from the nightstick, then Boss Man rolls in to break the count in a match where there are no countouts. Sure. Why not.

Boss Man heads back out in time to get choked and tossed into the cell a couple times, as Cole keeps bringing up the past cell matches, which at this point is doing this match NO favors. Taker grabs a chair from under the ring and waylays Boss Man in the back with it. Still no reaction. Maybe the crowd is all busy tweeting about how awesome this is on their smartphones. Granted, this is seven years before either Twitter or smartphones existed. Just shows how ahead of their time this Philly crowd was.

Taker heads in to execute a devastating stand-around-a-bit maneuver, then back out to give Boss Man a snake eyes into the cell. That gives Boss Man an excuse to blade as well, and his effort makes the Undertaker's blade job look positively heroic in comparison. A few blows by Taker and back in we go, and holy shit, the crowd is actually booing them. Yowsa.

Boss Man with the ol' thumb to the eye and a whip, but Taker hits the flying clothesline in response. Taker with the rope walk, but Boss Man kicks Taker's leg and he crotches himself on the top rope, drawing the first reaction of any kind from the crowd, though it's still almost nothing. Boss Man hits Taker on the apron, and Taker takes a huge bump into the cage in response, an admirable effort given how there is absolutely no way to salvage the match now. Even the announcers are reminding us how The Rock vs. Stone Cold is next, as if trying to keep viewers from tuning out. During a PAY PER VIEW. Oy.

Back into the ring we go, and a slugfest gets going, eventually won by the Boss Man. Taker slumps to his knees and nails Boss Man in the nuts, because why shouldn't the monster heel/babyface/tweener take a shortcut in a match where he so clearly outranks his opponent in the pecking order? Crowd boos intensify. Taker goes for the Tombstone but Boss Man slips out and tries to get back on offense, but a whip is reversed and Taker gets the Tombstone for three.

Thankfully, the DVD cuts out the match's disgusting and idiotic aftermath, where the Brood flies down from the rafters and drops a NOOSE in, Taker puts it around Boss Man's neck and Bearer raises the cage, hanging the Boss Man and apparently killing him, live on pay per view. Then we cut away to a commercial or something, and when we come back, no one says anything about Boss Man or the fact that we apparently just had a murder at WrestleMania. Oh, and Boss Man shows up alive and well about a week later. And, of course, it turned out that Taker and McMahon (and, presumably, Boss Man) were in cahoots the whole time, because JESUS CHRIST RUSSO SUCKS EGGS THROUGH A STRAW.

Here's the weird thing: All I remembered about this match is how awful it was, which it is, but not for the reasons I recalled. The work between Taker and Boss Man is actually not that bad. Really. Put this match in any other arena, on any other show, and with ANY other storyline, and it probably would have gone over much better. But with all the handicaps I mentioned above, the crowd just did not give even the slightest fuck about what was going on, and who could blame them? This was the absolute pits as far as Vince Russo's storytelling, where we do things just because no one would expect them, with no regard for how wrestling works or what it'll mean for the resulting match. Taker and Boss Man were left hung (sorry) out to dry here. Luckily for the Dead Man, things would get much better very soon.

7-0

The Undertaker vs. Kane (w/ Paul Bearer) -- WrestleMania XIV, March 29, 1998

　

So the Taker has spent the year being tormented by his now-former manager Paul Bearer, who revealed a tale of the Undertaker starting a fire as a kid that killed his parents and his brother, Kane. Taker sez nuh-uh, I didn't set no fire. Paul sez uh-huh. Taker sez nuh-uh. Paul sez uh-huh, 'cuz Kane told me. Taker sez WHAAAA??? And Paul sez, Yeah, beeotch, Kane's alive. Taker sez nuh-uh. Paul says uh-huh. Taker sez nuh-uh. And Kane sez uh-huh. And Taker sez, Oh, snap.

Now, those of you who were watching in this era know that it didn't go down in exactly those words...but basically that's the gist of it. So now Kane's around and wants to fight the Taker. Taker sez nuh-uh. Kane sez...okay, okay, we'll skip to the Royal Rumble, where Kane costs his brother the WWF Title (in a match that buggered up Shawn Michaels' back for four years), then tosses him in a casket and sets it on fire. So, yeah, after that, you better damn believe Taker said uh-huh to a match at Mania.

Kane would finally be the gimmick that clicked for Glen Jacobs, a big man who had been tooling around the indies for a while before getting signed by the WWF in 1995 and made into...an evil dentist. Ugh. The dentist's name? Issac Yankem. Double ugh. From DECAYtur, Illinois. TRIPLE ugh. After that died its rightful death, Jacobs was brought back in last 1996 as...the "New Diesel." INFINITY UGH.

Tragically, this DVD release cuts off Kane's entrance and his Tombstone on Pete Rose, one of the highlights of that year's Mania. Taker gets one of the most epic entrances ever, which is ALSO edited on this release: He's preceeded by the now-traditional druids carrying torches, but on the original show they played "O Fortuna," the single most kick-ass song of all time, which they overdub with the way less awesome "Undertaker Druid Chant #1" here. Boo-urns.

Staredown center ring to start, and underscoring how far he's been pushed, Taker throws the first blows. Punches and kicks drive Kane to the corner, pretty much the first he's sold in his entire WWF career. Well, as Kane, anyway, though Jacobs hadn't really done much of what you'd call "selling" as Yankem or Diesel, either. Kane catches Taker coming in and does a big toss to the corner to emphasize his strength. Taker avoids a shot and fires back, then a cross-corner whip gets reversed but Kane eats boot. Weird -- the match is actually moving at a good clip so far, and the crowd is surprisingly quiet.

Taker grabs the arm, maybe for the rope walk, but Kane clotheslines him down to stop it. Taker sits up immediately like it ain't no thang. More kicks and punches by Taker, then a whip gets reversed and Kane catches Taker. He looks for all the world like he's going for the Tombstone, but decides to try to hang Taker in the tree of woe, instead. Um, if Taker was, like, a foot shorter, MAYBE it'd work. All that ends up happening is Taker's lying with his shoulders on the mat and his feet in the air, like he's Martin Short in the relaxation position from "Innerspace." (Triple Nerd Reference Bonus!)

Kane, realizing this ain't working, just stomps on Taker in the corner, does some old school Taker scaring-of-the-ref, then chokes Taker down. Kane hits a few punches on Taker, then a couple of big cross corner whips which Taker sells like he's Bret Hart times two. Kane follows with a rather meager clothesline, then a few blows in the corner as Paul Bearer rants at Taker. Kane drapes Taker over the top rope, then heads up top for a fist drop which sends the Dead Man outside. Crowd still isn't reacting much.

Taker slides back in for more punches from Kane. Jacobs' offense isn't really carrying this heat segment, you gotta say. Taker fires back with a few meager kicks, but Kane easily regains control with some knees. Taker gets whipped and suddenly he leaps to Kane's shoulders in victory roll position, which is a remarkable feat of agility for a man that size. Holy crap, dude. What makes it all the weirder is how pointless it turns out to be: Kane just sloppily drops him down.

Taker rolls outside and now is da time on Sprockets where we brawl on da floor! Kane drops him on the rail, tosses him to the steps and then drops the steps on top of him. Well, okay, calling this a "brawl" is misleading. More like a "let's see if we can pop the crowd with weapons shots" segment. (Nuh-uh.) More steps shots from Kane as Paul distracts the ref. I guess the sheer volume and pitch of Paul's voice is blocking the loud crashing sounds of Kane bashing Taker with the steps. You know what? I can believe that.

Kane rolls back in and now it's Paul's turn, hitting Taker with a "forearm" and a couple of "kicks." You weren't made to hit offense, Percy. Kane suplexes the Taker back in. Lawler takes the time to go over the whole storyline between Kane, Paul and Taker, which he sounds very sincere in doing, but it just underscores how ludicrous the whole thing is. So, Paul raised Kane in a cellar or something for years while he just happened to be tapped by Brother Love to manage Taker? And that's not even getting into the revelation a month after this that Paul is Kane's father. (Don't ask.) (Seriously.) (Just don't.)

Kane lands a few blows on Taker in the corner while Taker tries to cover up. Kane whips him across the ring and Taker responds by hitting Kane with what can only be called a slightly walking clothesline. Taker runs the ropes and ducks a few blows before getting caught in a chokeslam. Kane covers for two...and pulls him up. With the benefit of hindsight, maybe that wasn't the brightest idea. But at the time, Ed's little plan seemed like the solution to all our problems. And the answer to all our prayers. (Raising Arizona FTW.)

Kane slaps on a chinlock. So, wait, Kane, you picked him up from a pin just so you can slap a resthold on him? I'm not totally wowed by your strategy here, dude. If you had pinned him, you could have rested all you want. In the locker room. They have bottled water and carrot sticks and everything. I mean, I know being raised in the cellar of a mortuary or wherever, maybe you didn't garner access to a ton of advanced wrestling strategy, but surely Poppa Paul tossed a tape or two down there while you were chained to the wall. Waaaaiiiiit a minute....holy shit. You guys. Kane is Sloth! Why'd I never see it before? All Taker has to do is offer him a Baby Ruth, and the feud's over.

We spend a long, long time in the chinlock until finally Taker starts hammering away at Kane with shots to break the hold -- and then Kane just clotheslines him down to retake control, because boy howdy, the crowd was almost back into it, need to stop that. Kane drops an elbow and...back to the chinlock. Okay, dudes? You rested enough and did maybe two moves. I really can't see how you need to rest again that quickly. Maybe Kane just needs a minute to remember how Poppa Paul used to sing him "Rock-a-Bye Baby." He only dropped Kane once! Maybe twice!

We stay in the hold a long time again, then they stand and Taker kinda-sorta-not really drops Kane nuts first on the top rope. Kane gets on the apron for a few Taker punches and then a big boot sends him to the floor...and then Taker busts out the HOLY SHIT NO HANDS PLANCHA that has also basically become a Mania tradition. As has the fact that he almost never actually hits it. Kane casually sidesteps and Taker crashes and burns through the Spanish announce table, and whoever had "The Undertaker" on their "¿Que Rompe La Tabla?" scratch card, congrats! You win a year's supply of Turtle Wax and a case of Rice-a-Roni. Yes, Rice-a-Roni, the San Francisco Treat. (Ding ding!)

Kane tosses a piece of the table on Taker, which is just gratuitous, man, then heads back in to let Taker recover. I'm not sure I agree with your wrestling there, Lou. Kane waits until Taker is back on his feet, then, heads out to toss him back in. You coulda done that a minute ago, dude, and you'd be in way better position. I'm beginning to think it's almost like this match is fixed.

Kane heads up for his top rope clothesline, which Jim Ross labels as "exactly like his brother!" Uh, no Jim, Taker does the move with grace and coordination, Kane always looks like he's doing a half cannonball into a pool and there just happens to be a guy in the way. Kane covers for two and this time Taker gets the shoulder up. Kane again starts pounding on Taker, Taker covers up until it becomes a slugfest. Taker whip gets reversed, Taker ducks a clothesline and then tries to pick up Kane for a Tombstone...which Kane reverses into one of his own. That looked pretty damn scary, as Kane really didn't have Taker in a good position for the move. Taker, of course, kicks out at two.

Kane tosses Taker into a corner and pounds away until another slugfest gets going, which Taker finally wins. Clothesline by Taker finally knocks Kane down. Kane blocks a big boot but soon finds himself chokeslammed. Taker slits his throat with his thumb and indeed hits the Tombstone (which frankly doesn't look much safer than Kane's version)...for two. The crowd is pretty stunned.

Taker stays on offense and drops a leg, then Tombstones Kane again...for two. Taker heads up to show Kane how a top rope clothesline is supposed to be done, then hits a third Tombstone and finally gets the pin (barely) by hooking Kane's leg instead of doing the old crossing-his-arms trick. Gotta say, this is a textbook demonstration of how to protect a monster heel even while giving the face a clean win.

Paul brings a chair into the ring post-match and "kicks" some more on the downed Taker, who proceeds to get up and slug him in response. Kane, meanwhile, grabs the chair, nails Taker in the back, then gives him the Tombstone on the chair. Woulda had more impact if Taker had done the stretcher job, but he just gets up and walks out. Anyway, the match really isn't bad from a work standpoint, but it's mainly Taker selling all over the place for Kane, who was still growing into his role, and the crowd was dead until it picked up at the end.

Sloth love Chunk!

6-0

The Undertaker vs. Sycho Sid (WWF Champion) (WWF Title Match, No Disqualifications) - WrestleMania 13, March 23, 1997

Ah, Sid. Sid, Sid, Sid. Never before has one man sucked so much, so often, in front of so many, and been so successful. This is a different animal than Gonzalez or any number of talentless big men who got a push that never went anywhere. Sid Eudy actually managed to become one of the biggest names of his era in wrestling despite having not one shred of talent in the ring. Even his promos -- which were considered good at the time -- seem laughable nowadays. But still, the man got plenty of chances in every company in the world. Hell, even the jaded ECW fans went wild for the guy when he made a stop there in early 1999. My only explanation is mass hypnosis. Sid has some mystical power that he asserts over wrestling crowds which makes them think he's actually got charisma or an arsenal that consists of more than three moves.

Anyway, Taker had split from Paul Bearer in the summer of '96, in the midst of his brutal feud with Mankind. This is Taker's first Mania main event, and first real title shot in years, and most everyone figured it was his turn with the belt. He comes out in his old gear, grey boots and gloves, which serves both as a nice nod to his history and as a subterfuge to hide some nasty bruises, as news reports at the time stated that Taker had gotten into a minor car accident the night before the match. So we have an injured Dead Man and Suck-o Sid in our Mania title match, and guess what? They somehow pull out an all-time classic. ... ... ... Naw, I'm shittin' ya, it sucks.

Someone in the crowd has a big paper set of scissors with "SID" and "ARN" written on them, and if you don't know what nasty piece of business THAT's referring to, Google it and marvel at how this guy somehow had a career in wrestling for nearly a decade after that. It took a broken leg to rid us of Sid. Jim Ross notes that the Undertaker has never lost at WrestleMania, which may be the first time someone ever mentioned the streak, even obliquely. Shawn Michaels, still scanning the classified ads for that missing smile, is sitting in on commentary after his "career-ending knee injury" which would last until, oh, about a month after this show.

Sid and Taker have a staredown...which is interrupted by the arrival of Bret Hart, freshly heel turned after his classic war with Steve Austin earlier in the night, in what may have been the greatest Mania match ever. First, he threatens Shawn at commentary about his "pussyfoot" injury, which Shawn acts all ironically scared of. Gee, I wonder if there's any bad blood there, at all. Then he whines at Taker and Sid about how they've wronged him. This whole thing was a year-long storyline about how the WWF had turned against Bret and everyone was screwing him over. Is it any wonder why so many still wanna believe the Montreal screwjob was a work? The inmates were completely running the asylum at this point.

Sid finally gets fed up with Bret, clobbers and powerbombs him. Sid taunts Bret on the mike as officials carry Bret out, while Shawn laughs on commentary the whole time, mocking Bret at every turn. I'm glad Shawn has turned his life around and become way more professional in the years after his first real retirement, because holy cow was he a manipulative twerp back then. I mean, one of the greatest wrestlers ever, but still an ass.

Taker finally attacks from behind (weird tactic for a top babyface, but we're starting to get ATTITUDE, so faces can do that) to start the match. Punches and headbutts in the corner, then a cross whip gets reversed by Sid, but he eats a boot on the way in. Toss to the corner and more punches, followed by a Stinger Splash by the Dead Man. Shawn notes how the Undertaker has gotten screwed more than anybody, but he never complains. Yep, you're right, Shawnie. Maybe you could learn a thing or two about professionalism yourself, eh, Mr. I've-Come-Down-With-A-Terrible-Case-of-I-Can't-Job-to-Bret-Hart-itis?

Slam by Taker for 2, then it's time for the rope walk, but when Taker tries another Stinger Splash, Sid catches him in...a bear hug? Sid, dude, you're pulling out the last refuge of the lazy big man in the first minute of the match? Let alone the first minute of the WRESTLEMANIA MAIN EVENT? Seriously, did you have pictures of Stephanie or something? How did you get this job? I mean, Shawn was an unprofessional shit, but he was a wizard in the ring. You, on the other hand, were more Mr. Dursley.

So Sid bearhugs the Taker for about five years, then releases him to nail Taker in the back a couple times and...goes right back into the bearhug. Whoa! Sid, showing the moveset! Okay, we'll be totally fair -- Taker's injured, maybe they can't do much. But holy cow is this out of place as a headline match at the biggest show of the year. Sid again releases the hold, nails Taker in the back a couple times and...goes...back...into...wait, didn't I just WATCH that sequence? Is my DVD skipping or is Sid a Reel Steel-esque wrestling android set on repeat?

Taker FINALLY claps his way out and hits the ropes, but Sid nails a big boot and clotheslines Taker out. Well, okay "clotheslines" is a strong word. More like walks up and gently nudges him, which Taker sells by dramatically tumbling to the floor and landing on his feet. Taker tries to drag Sid to the floor, but Sid kicks off and sends Taker tumbling over the Spanish announce table. For those of you familiar with WWF history and are asking, "The Spanish table is still standing this late in a show?", relax -- it was the French announcers who got it earlier in the night, so the Spanish got a one show reprieve.

Sid tosses Taker to the guardrail a couple times, then slams Taker on the Spanish table, which, knowing its union rights, stubbornly refuses to break. Good on you, Spanish table! The French table was already sacrificed, you don't need to go down! Fight the power! ATTICA! ATTICA! Oh, wait, I mean, IKEA! IKEA! It's around this time that Vince casually mentions that this is a no-DQ match. That's usually the kind of stip you hype before the show, you know. Call me crazy, but I don't think announcing a stip during the main event will add any PPV buys. Maybe there are some psychic wrestling fans who will suddenly become aware that Sid/Taker is No DQ and buy Mania with 20 minutes to go, but that has to be a minor demographic.

Sid "rams" the Taker back first to the post (moves in quotes are incidents of Sid performing, at best, vague suggestions of what he's pretending to be doing), then back in the ring Sid covers him for two. Taker tries to mount a comeback, but that might get the crowd into the match, so Sid cuts that off quickly. Sid applies a Camel Clutch, because that furious offense demands that he get a chance to relax in another rest hold. I'll give the man this -- Sid's Camel Clutch looks way better than Scott Steiner's version. Take note: The previous sentence is the only time in history where someone will say that something Sid did was better than Scott Steiner doing the same thing. I have made literary history. I bow and thank you.

Sid sits down on Taker's back, then ascends to the second rope. In 2001, he broke his leg attempting this same move in one of the nastiest injuries in wrestling history. Sadly, this time he hits a double axehandle without incident. I sneak a look at my time counter and, good lord, this match isn't even half over. Taker hits a few blows to finally try and begin some offense, but Sid hits a "powerslam" for two. And two. And two. Um, dude, he ain't staying down. Just letting you know.

Sid hits a leg drop for two and holy shit, that move didn't look half bad. Ten minutes in and Sid finally hits something that actually looked well executed. Were the Mayans right? Sid "chokes" Taker in the corner, which consists of Sid lightly putting his hands in the vague vicinity of the Taker's neck and making gruesome faces. Sid whips Taker who hits the flying clothesline in response, and dear god, Dead Man, please get on offense here. Sid's up first and kicks Taker. JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH CHRIST, ENOUGH WITH THE SID HEAT SEGMENT.

Taker finally begins to fight back with a few headbutts to the gut (that's, uh, different), then he tosses Sid to the floor. Taker throws Sid over the guardrail, then we get a slugfest halfway in the crowd before Taker drags Sid back in again. No real crowd brawling, god forbid we do anything that might make people cheer or anything. Taker tosses Sid into the steps, where Sid "hits" "hard." Back inside, Taker hits the ropes awkwardly (if he was Scott "Jagged" Parker, he woulda yelled out "D'oh, I missed it!") and misses an elbow. Fuck a duck, that means Sid's back on offense again, doesn't it? Yep, time for a...""chinlock."" (This one is so poorly executed it gets two sets of quotes.)

Sid keeps the Taker in this devastating ""hold"" for roughly nine years or so, as two presidential elections, three Olympic games and the entire run of the series "Friends" occur in the interim. Fans begin scavenging for food, a heirarchy forms and a new society builds at the Rosemont Arena in Chicago. And all the while, Sid still keeps the ""hold"" on, waiting to get his breath back.

The match finally picks up again (just in time for WrestleMania 22) as Taker finally says "the hell with this" and sits up, clobbering Sid in the midsection and face with fast body shots. Sid rakes Taker's eyes, and "hits" the ropes, "running" toward the Taker who calmly powerslams him for two. And now the TAKER slaps on a rest hold. Holy geez, dudes, it's the freaking Mania main event and we've had four restholds here.

Sid sits up, hits a couple "blows" and whips Taker for a big boot, but Taker catches it and clotheslines him down for two. Taker whips Sid into the same Double-Big-Boot spot from last year and both guys are down and out. We lay around again for a minute (WrestleMania, baby, only $34.95) until Sid covers Taker for 2. Sid heads up to the second rope AGAIN, and AGAIN hits a double axe handle. You know, usually when I say "only has three moves" about a guy I'm exaggerating for comedic effect. And Sid heads up **AGAIN** to the second, but at least this tine he "hits" a "flying" ""clothesline"" instead for two.

Sid decides to head up to the second rope for the 347th time (or fourth, I've lost count), but this time, finally Taker hits him coming down. Kicks and elbows from the Taker, but Sid AGAIN cuts off Taker's heat segment with a face rake and a slam. Who the hell gave an injured Taker and SID FREAKING EUDY 25 minutes, then decided most of the match should be Sid on offense? Now Sid heads up to the TOP rope, and in this match, I'm just grateful for the variety, but Taker does the Zombie Sit Up and catches him up there, finally slamming him to the canvas. Please, a Taker heat segment. Please. PLEASE.

Taker heads up to show Sid how the hell you're supposed to do a flying clothesline for two. Taker looks beat as he gets up and signals for the Tombstone. He sets Sid up, but Sid reverses it into his own "Tombstone" for two. Sid tosses Taker to the floor, because once you've started doing the other guy's finisher, it's the perfect time to start doing mid-match transitional spots. Sid and Taker brawl out there for a while, until...Bret Hart comes back to pound on Sid with a chair. What the freaking hell, dudes? Sid's clearly the heel in this match, Bret just turned heel, and now you're just confusing the audience.

Officials drag Bret away as Taker rams Sid back first to the post, then back inside Taker hits the chokeslam for two. Taker irish whip is reversed, and Taker misses a flying clothesline that he tries to execute almost comically late. Ye gods, after all that, Sid is BACK IN CONTROL. Sid sets up for the powerbomb, but here comes Bret Hart AGAIN onto the apron. Sid goes after him, but Bret drops him throat first on the top rope, and Taker sneaks up from behind to deliver the Tombstone for the pin and his second WWF Title reign. Holy crap on a popsicle stick, this was one of those perfect storms where EVERYTHING went wrong: Sid sucking, Taker hurt, Michaels stealing spotlight on commentary, overuse of Bret, overbooked and confusing, bad finish that totally undermined the guy who was winning the title and protected a champion who had only one more WWF PPV appearance after this. In short -- yeah, this is the worst match of the streak, right here.

5-0

The Undertaker (w/ Paul Bearer) vs Diesel - WrestleMania XII, March 31, 1996

We're in Anaheim, CA for this one, with a match that had been built for months. Diesel (Kevin Nash, naturally) had been WWF champ for a year, then immediately turned on new champ Bret Hart after losing the title. The idea was to get his character back to the bad ass he had gotten over being, making him not quite face and not quite heel -- yet another example of WWF trying to create an anti-hero pre-Austin. What WWF will never say is that the idea of the "bad guy babyface" is hardly something they pioneered -- a quick glance at wrestling history shows a slew of rough and tumble characters who became major babyfaces. Look up Dick the Bruiser sometime -- he was Austin years before Austin was Austin.

Anyway, Diesel and the Taker first faced off in December, with each costing the other a title match with Bret Hart in the months leading up to this. It was obvious a WrestleMania match was the goal, and there was uncertainty over who would win, since both guys were mega top draws for the WWF. Then, news came out that Nash had signed a deal with WCW and would be leaving in May. And any suspense about this match's outcome, rightly, went flying out the window.

Diesel's demeanor post-turn was one of eternal cockiness, an "I'm too cool for this arena" swagger that is symbolized by his loud "I'm the shit, I'm telling ya!" he yells as he climbs the steps into the ring (which gets muted on this release, naturally). Then again, the "tweener" run had already pretty much mutated into a full-on heel turn by this point -- they'd even done an angle where Nash beat up Shawn Michaels at MSG to set up one last HBK/Diesel match at the PPV right after Mania. Never let it be said that Kevin Nash doesn't have a natural charisma and interview ability that makes him a genuine star. Let it also never be said that he's anything but the most average of workers in the ring on his best day.

Paul has the Urn back at this point, as the Million Dollar Team storyline was finally resolved and after a brief side feud with King Mabel (um, ugh), the Urn was apparently melted back into a shape that was more reasonably sized and urn-like. Makes you wonder what happened to all the extra metal that was in the Big Ass Urn. Recycled, maybe? Some underprivileged kid is playing a trombone that was once the receptacle for the Undertaker's power, I betcha. I have just plotted WWE's next straight-to-video horror flick.

Anyway, we waste no time as Diesel and Taker tear right into each other at the opening bell. Tattoo Update: Both arms are sleeved now, though the elbow pad he now sports on his left arm obscures it a bit. Diesel whips Taker to a buckle and charges in with a huge running clothesline. And yes, I said "running" referring to Kevin Nash and it wasn't ironic -- this was back in the day where the dude could actually still move if he wanted to. Elbow in the corner precedes another whip and charge, but this time Taker stops him with a big boot. Clothesline sends him down.

Taker drops a massive elbow that Diesel easily moves away from, then a big clothesline sends Taker to the floor where he -- gasp! -- lands on his feet and drags Diesel out. It's weird -- they're actually going at a hell of a pace here and the crowd is amazingly quiet. To be fair, the middle portion of Mania XII was a pretty lousy show, so they may just be out of it, and they still had over an hour of wrestling to come, as the Iron Man Match with Bret and Shawn was later. (For the uninitiated, no it had nothing to do with wearing a suit of armor or Gwyneth Paltrow in short shorts, sad to say.)

On the floor, Taker hits Diesel with a buncha shots to the midsection, but Diesel fires back and we do the "I'm gonna hold your head and you are powerless to do anything but follow along" bit until Diesel tries to toss Taker to the steps, but Taker blocks and tosses Diesel in instead. That's a quintessential example of dramatic irony, right there. Scholarly papers could be written about Diesel and the Undertaker's WrestleMania steps exchange.

Back inside, Diesel catches Taker with a punt to the ribs, then whips him into a supposed back body drop, but Diesel barely even bothers to bend down, so the whole world knows Taker's gonna counter it with something awesome and cool and awesomely cool. And it's...a punch. Okay, not so awesome. Or cool. It didn't deserve a trophy. It didn't even deserve a pizza. Maybe a pizza trophy. Taker goes for the Tombstone, but come on, we're only three minutes in, so Diesel slips out and Taker runs the ropes to hit a cross body (!) for two. Whoa, Dead Man bringing the moveset!

Taker does the rope walk on Diesel, then goes for the flying clothesline but Diesel ducks out of the way and Taker lands awkwardly on the apron. That actually looked pretty ouch -- Diesel ducked so close to the ropes Taker didn't really have enough room to land. Diesel grabs Taker from inside with a big grin on his face, so of course Taker drops his neck across the top rope to retake control. Back inside, a couple shots send Diesel back to the floor, and Taker heads out to shove him to the ringpost. Taker snatches a chair from the Spanish announcers (who had yet to become the crash-test dummies of the WWF commentary team), but Diesel ducks the incoming shot.

Diesel tosses Taker to the guardrail, then sends Taker to the post a few times himself. Now that Nash is definitively on offense, we have successfully slowed the match down to traditional Kevin Nash Speed, which for the uninitiated means no more than ONE (1) offensive move per minute, a pace stipulated by the International Kevin Nash Awards Committee, member FDIC, all rights reserved. Any more offense just wouldn't be cool.

Taker finally gets back in the ring, where Diesel whips him to the ropes and hits the big boot, then parades around in triumph. Taker stands up, Diesel elbows him back down, struts again. We get it, you're good at most things, wanna wrestle already, Kev? Taker back up, a few more elbows send him back down. "Rest in Peace" chant breaks out, and I still love that we got THAT over as a chant to rile up a babyface. Sidewalk slam by Diesel, and who had 7 minutes in the "How long it will take for Kevin Nash to execute an actual wrestling move in this match" pool? You win! Cover for two.

Diesel picks up Taker for Snake Eyes to the corner, then a running Boss Man Sit on the ropes. Whoa, slow down there, Kev, you've already exhausted half your move set, and your heat segment isn't anywhere near over yet. Knees and punches in the corner by Diesel, then a cross corner whip, but Taker catches him with an elbow on the way in. Both guys hit each other with a punch at the same time, then to one-up that spot, they hit a simultaneous big boot. Very cool looking moment.

Referee counts them both down until Taker sits up, but Diesel is up first and nails Taker from behind, whips him to the corner and then...oh, dear god, it's a bear hug spot, the last refuge of the lazy big man. Taker stays in the hold as we try to wait for the crowd to cheer him to break it, but holy cow is it slow going to get them there. Finally Taker says the hell with it and claps his way out. Diesel immediately locks on a side headlock, a move so out of place that it's no surprise that Taker does a side suplex to get out of it.

Taker up and drops an elbow, then up top for a flying clothesline for two. Taker whips Diesel and tries for his own back body drop, which is even more out of place, so of course Diesel hits him and nails the Jackknife. Diesel, being Diesel, decides to strut and pose instead of cover, and even goads the Taker into standing up so he can hit the move again. More posing by Diesel, almost making a complete mockery of the match in the process. It wouldn't be the last time Nash would do that.

Diesel, after about forever, finally tries to cover...and Taker reaches up and grabs him by the throat. Diesel pounds him down, Taker reaches right back up. Second verse, same as the first. Finally, Taker rises up while still gripping Diesel's throat, but Nash pushes off and gives Taker...a side suplex of his own? Holy cow, Nash learned a new move! Alert the media! Nash poses (of course) to celebrate, so (of course) he completely misses the Taker sitting up and stalking him from behind.

Nash turns and knees Taker in the gut, but Taker quickly responds this time. Irish whip and Taker hits the flying clothesline. Big chokeslam, Taker slides his thumb across his throat, and then boom, it's Tombstone time. 1-2-3. Nash had that one more WWE PPV match with Michaels before heading to WCW to revolutionize the industry. And still, as a wrestler, he sucked the whole time. Gotta applaud the man's lack of dedication. Anyway, this one started out fast but once Nash took over it was pretty dull. At least with historical hindsight, the right guy definitely won.

4-0

The Undertaker (w/ Paul Bearer but w/o the Urn) vs. King Kong Bundy (w/ Ted DiBiase and the Urn) - WrestleMania XI, April 2, 1995


Taker sat out WrestleMania X after ascending into heaven at the Royal Rumble that year. There are two kinds of people reading this right now: Those who think that opening sentence was a joke, and those who know I'm not kidding and are shaking their heads sadly. Anyway, Taker made his comeback in August and is now feuding with Ted DiBiase's Million Dollar Team, who, thanks to Bundy, "repossessed" the Urn at the 1995 Royal Rumble. By the way, this was also the Big Ass Urn era for Taker, as when he came back they made Paul carry around a thing the size of a small office trash can that contained a working airport landing light. The more I write, the more you wonder why the hell I love this stuff, don't you?

This was the Lawrence Taylor WrestleMania, as he faced Bam Bam Bigelow in the main event, which is pretty easily the best "celebrity" match ever. We're in Hartford, CT, basically the WWF's backyard. DiBiase brings the Urn to ringside for the match, which I think we can all agree is a really stupid move, considering how the whole idea is that without the Urn, the Taker is "powerless." Bundy is in the middle of his WWF comeback, which would last, hmm, about two months longer after this match was over. Lawler pulls out the old "Bundy won a match at WrestleMania in nine seconds" nonsense, though anyone who has seen the match and has a time code on their video player knows the match runs, like, 22 or so.

We cut to Todd Pettingill (BURN IT! BURN IT WITH FIRE!) interviewing a former Chicago Bear in the front row. This is the era where virtually every WWF PPV had an obsession with celebrity guests, most of whom only served to distract from the product or make the guys we're pushing as "superstars" look like chumps in comparison. Glad they learned their lesson and never relied on celebrity appearances so heavily again, like, say, letting a different celeb guest host Raw every week for a year. That'd just be idiotic.

This is the first Mania where they shut the lights off for Taker's entrance, accompanied by the prerequisite thunder and lightning. Outfit update: Taker has traded the grey trim on his attire for purple. The somber and awesome mood set by the Taker's entrance is undercut by the announcers pointing out the referee, an MLB umpire who's working Mania because there was a lockout at the time. Um, guys? I'm just guessing here, but I bet people didn't pay $34.95 to watch you interview ex-football players and spotlight out-of-work umps. What say we do some wrestling, huh?

Underscoring how important the Urn is in storyline, DiBiase absentmindedly drops it in the ring. Meanwhile, showing he goes to the Jeffy McG School of Cardiovascular Training, Bundy is sweating buckets before the match even begins. He charges Taker in the corner, which Taker easily sidesteps. Taker going right to work on offense, but since Bundy is so huge, he again is stuck not being able to do many of his usual power moves. So, a-punching and a-kicking we go. Bundy was actually a pretty good worker for his size, and back in the day he could move amazingly well, but we're at the tail end of his career here and his working boots get left in the locker room more often than not.

Rope walk by the Taker hits, followed by a few clotheslines, but the big man won't go down. The crowd is almost eerily silent. Tattoo Update: Taker's right arm is now pretty much covered by a sleeve's worth of ink. A big clothesline finally drops Bundy, and Taker starts stalking DiBiase on the floor. Bundy clotheslines Taker out and he lands on his feet...right by Ted. Taker snatches the Urn from him like, "Meh, no big deal," and hands it back to Paul like, "Here, bee-otch," and Paul's all, "Yippee, I have to lug this heavy piece of crap through customs again!" Gee, that's one hell of an anti-climax to the angle. Well, at least it's over, right? Ahem.

Taker heads back in to beat on Bundy while DiBiase is in the aisle, calling for backup. And here it comes, in the form of Kama, the "Supreme Fighting Machine," played by Charles "Papa Shango/Kama Mustafa/The Godfather/The Goodfather/more gimmicks than even Ed Leslie" Wright. Kama confronts Paul Bearer and asks politely if he can have the Urn back. Now, granted, he asks politely by kicking him in the gut and stealing it, but hey, in the world of wrestling that's about as polite as you're gonna get.

Taker reaches from the ring to try and stop this lame-o angle from continuing, but Bundy attacks from behind to break it up. Nice try anyway, Mark. DiBiase tells Kama to get out of here and take this lousy oversized ash recepticle with him. Which again begs the question -- why the hell did you bother to bring it in the first place, rich dude? Anyhoo, we cut to Kama in the aisle being interviewed by Jim Ross, who asks maybe the single dumbest question of his broadcast career: "Why do you have the Urn?" Kama responds that he's gonna melt it down and wear it as a chain around his neck, which, SPOILER ALERT, he did. Uh, maybe that shoulda been a surprise, guys.

Back to the match, such as it is, as Bundy hits a sloppy clothesline to stagger the Taker, then another one to send him to the floor again. Bundy continues to slowly dominate as the crowd continues to sit on their hands. Paul tries to get the crowd to start a pro-Taker chant: "Rest in Peace." Yes, really. Bundy slams Taker and drops a knee for two. Bundy decides, "Whoa, Nelly, if we keep this pace up we're gonna burn out this red-hot crowd, better slow things down with a resthold." Thus, it's rear chinlock time! Whoo-hoo!

Paul again starts the "Rest in Peace" chant on the floor, coming across more like a pale, obese cheerleader than a creature of the night, but whatever, more power to him for trying to get folks into this match. It's as useless as trying to find a Kardashian without a sex tape, but the thought is there. After, like, TWO MINUTES of sitting on the mat, Taker finally begins to stir and gets out of the hold. Bundy ignores the mini-comeback, whips Taker to the corner and hits him with the Avalanche. Taker slumps down...for a couple seconds, then flips the hair back, rolls the eyes and stands straight up. I do believe it is time for clobberin'.

Bundy charges in and eats a boot. Taker slams Bundy in an impressive feat of strength, then finally hits a flying clothesline for the pin. Yep, Bundy's so big and immobile we had to go to, like, Taker's fourth string finishing move. And ref-slash-ump (refump?) Larry Young's pin count is so quiet it's a wonder the fans knew that Taker won. The match was little more than a backdrop to a really silly storyline, and when the action actually did take center stage, boy howdy did it suck. Even the Gonzalez match the previous year had more crowd heat. Things would get better for the Dead Man. Eventually.

3-0

The Undertaker (w/ Paul Bearer) vs. The Giant Gonzalez (w/ Harvey Whippleman) - WrestleMania IX, April 4, 1993

Hoo boy. Okay, so there was this guy named Jorge Gonzalez. Really tall dude. Got signed by Ted Turner to play basketball for the Atlanta Hawks. But when it turned out he couldn't, you know, play basketball, they decided to transfer him to WCW and make him into the next big wrestling star -- "El Gigante." Of course, he couldn't wrestle, either, but why would that stop them? In his entire WCW tenure, he had one decent match, and that was against Ric Flair, who could have a decent match with a loveseat. (And, in a few different ways, Flair probably has. Ba dum bum.)

Vince McMahon, being the wrestling genius he is, saw Gonzalez and said, "This is one of the worst workers I've ever seen. He has no business in this company, and I will not sign him." Oh, wait, no, he "stole" him away from WCW and immediately put him in a program against one of his top stars and set them up in a semi-main event match at WrestleMania. Sigh.

Of course, all this was par for the course for the unmitigated disaster that was WrestleMania IX. First off, we're at an outdoor stadium at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas, and the crowd is pretty much dead for big chunks of the show. The best match on the card was the opener, and that was a merely okay contest between Shawn Michaels and Tatanka. The main event saw Yokozuna beat Bret Hart for the WWF title, then immediately lose it to Hulk Hogan, who wasn't even scheduled for a title match, effectively burying Hart immediately after his reign had ended.

And then, of course, this match. Gonzalez doesn't have anything in the way of muscle definition, so they put him in this ridiculous full body suit with muscles painted on that makes him look like Sasquatch. It even has an ass crack painted on the back, because...damned if I know. Taker enters on a chariot with a vulture looming over him, which is a pretty cool visual. By the way, this show is the first WWF appearance of Jim Ross, who like everyone else is dressed to fit the "Caesar's Palace" theme. You have not lived until you've seen Howard Finkel in a toga. Actually, I hope you have.

Tattoo watch: Taker now has both forearms covered. Staredown in the middle of the ring, and wow, who woulda guessed, Gonzalez is tall. He hits Taker with a few forearms, each of which Taker sells before going right back into the staredown. Taker begins firing back, and we get our first look at Gonzalez selling, which looks like he's being shocked by an overzealous cattle prod. Gonzalez responds by grabbing Taker by the throat and pushing him to a corner, where Taker climbs the ropes to get a leverage advantage and responds with a choke of his own. Gonzalez responds with a classic amateur move, the Greco-Roman punch to the balls.

Gonzalez tries to follow up with a double axe handle that could not be more telegraphed if he yelled, "EXCUSE ME, UNDERTAKER, I AM PLANNING ON HITTING YOU WITH A DOUBLE AXE HANDLE HERE IN TWO SECONDS, ONCE AGAIN, A DOUBLE AXE HANDLE IN TWO SECONDS" beforehand. Shockingly, Taker sees it coming and starts hitting blows again, including the WrestleMania debut of the rope walk. It's a challenge for the Taker to mount any offense, because, well, Gonzalez doesn't know how to take any moves. So Taker's left to punch, kick, choke and just try and make it interesting.

Gonzalez hits a big boot and a "running" clothesline to take control. Gonzalez is a challenge on offense, too, because he doesn't actually know how to DO any moves, either, so Taker bumps like Shawn Michaels all over the ring for everything in an effort to keep the match going. A lot of the Dead Man's history sees him being put in matches with talentless lugs who can't work, because Vince is sure the key to drawing with the Undertaker is to put him in matches with guys who are bigger than him. This was wrong. The key to drawing with the Undertaker is HE'S THE GODDAMN UNDERTAKER. Put him in there with guys he can have good matches with and the money will take care of itself.

Gonzalez clamps on a reverse chinlock (weLOVErestHOLDS, clap, clap, clapclapclap) which lasts FOREVER and while the crowd has actually been trying to stay into the match, the boring move kills them deader than Anna Nicole Smith. (... ... ...too soon?) BTW, fun fact for ECW fans -- your referee is the man who calls it right down the middle, Mr. Bill Alphonso. He checks Taker's arm and, shockingly, it stays up on the very first drop, reaching for Paul and the Urn.

Taker fights up and elbows out, then hits the ropes, but Gonzalez tosses him to the floor. Well, okay, that's not quite what happens. It's more like Taker hits the ropes, Gonzalez sidesteps slightly and pantomimes like he's reaching for Taker's head, and Taker dramatically tosses himself to the floor. Gonzalez heads out after him and "beats" on Taker, which Taker continues to sell like he's being hit with Mjolnir. Gonzalez "tosses" him to the steps a few times, as well. We're basically watching Mark Callaway beat himself up, with a tall Argentinian man happening to be standing nearby.

Gonzalez heads back in, but Taker gets up with the help of THE POWER OF THE URN and follows. A Gonzalez headbutt sends him down, but Taker sits right back up. Second verse, same as the first. They start trading blows in the middle of the ring, with Taker gaining the advantage. A barrage of punches and kicks "staggers" Gonzalez, who finally drops to one knee like a guy who has no idea how to look when you get staggered by blows and drop to one knee, and so plays it as broadly as a vaudeville comedian who just got hit with a fake frying pan.

This brings manager Whippleman up to the apron, and as he gets choked by the Taker, he tosses a cloth to Gonzalez...and, holy shit, they're actually doing the ETHER SOAKED RAG gag at WrestleMania. Gonzalez headbutts Paul Bearer then smothers Taker with the rag. Ref calls for the bell but Gonzalez still puts Taker out. Long, long, LONG time passes as officials and medics come out to cart Taker away, and Gonzalez hilariously "menaces" the crowd in the interim, chokeslamming Alphonso (in the best executed move of Gonzalez's career) as well.

As Gonzalez remains in the ring, the crowd chants for Hogan, and I bet THAT was music to Taker's ears as he waited in the back. Finally, Taker returns to a big pop and proceeds to beat up Gonzalez some more, finally putting him down with a flying clothesline, and Gonzalez can't even sell THAT right. Dude, FALL TO YOUR BACK. Not rocket science. Gonzalez retreats and Taker's announced the winner by DQ, the only match in the streak that was not won by pin or submission. Anyway, the match sucked, but it's actually an interesting watch because of Taker's work. One, it proves yet again that he's a company man and, despite some naysayers' protests, he will literally sell for anyone they ask him to sell for. And two, when you see a guy who can't work, like Gonzalez or Great Khali after him, it makes you appreciate how damn good the Taker is for a man his size. Still, really bad. But believe it or not, not the worst match of the streak. Oh, no.

2-0

The Undertaker (w/ Paul Bearer) vs. Jake "The Snake" Roberts -- WrestleMania VIII, April 5, 1992


What a difference a year makes. After getting built up as the big bad guy and beating Hulk Hogan for the WWF Title (and losing it back to him a week later), Taker was turned into a babyface just a few weeks before this match, and he's already one of the most popular guys in the company. Like Snuka before him, this is Jake's swan song, as he's since told the story of how he held up Vince McMahon and demanded his release before he would even go to the ring. This would lead to Jake's disasterous WCW run and years of...uh...problems before he returned to the WWF in 1996. Sadly, those problems have never quite gone away. Too bad, as Roberts is a genuinely gifted wrestling mind, who would be a great asset to the business if he could properly clean up.

Jake's spent the past six months as a mega-heel and running buddy for the Taker, only to turn on him just before this, so there's a storyline here. You know, looking back, the Taker face turn should never have worked. In the era he was in, the Undertaker as a top good guy seems to run totally against the grain of everything else in the kiddie-era WWF of the early 90's, especially since he didn't change anything about the way he worked after the turn. But maybe that's exactly why it worked so well. Everyone cites Austin as the first modern WWF anti-hero. I think they're looking about 5 years too late.

We're in the Hoosier Dome in Indianapolis for this one, which isn't full, either. This would be the last major stadium the WWF would run Mania in for nearly a decade. Jake plays a little bob and weave with Taker to start, as Taker does his best Michael Myers impression by slowly stalking him. The first of Taker's many, many, many tattoos has made its appearance on his right forearm by this point. Jake hits Taker with a few punches that knock him over the top to the floor, but Taker lands on his feet and drags Jake to the floor with him.

A shot and a run into the ring post puts Taker in control, but Jake catches him with a knee lift on the way in. He goes back to punching Taker a lot, and Taker goes back to not really noticing much. Jake whips Taker to the corner , but when he tries again Taker blocks and gives Jake a whip of his own. It's kinda weird, considering the circumstances behind the match, that Jake is getting any offense at all. You'd figure this'd be more one-sided than a match between Andre the Giant and Herb the Burger King mascot.

Choke in the corner by Taker, another whip and another choke, as the match begins to resemble the squash you'd think it'd be. Another whip, and another choke. Fourth verse, same as the first. More slow domination by the Taker leads to the flying clothesline. He goes for the Tombstone but Jake slips out and hits the DDT. The crowd goes crazy...and then goes crazier when Taker casually sits up.

Jake gets right back on the attack, hits his short clothesline and another DDT, then for some crazy reason decides to chase after Paul on the floor instead of covering. Taker, of course, sits up again, follows Jake to the floor and proceeds to Tombstone the CRAP out of him out there. It's beyond academic as Taker picks up the lifeless Jake, tosses him in the ring and covers for the pin. Again, pretty much nothing as a match, but very entertaining as a moment and as Jake's final comeuppance.

1-0

The Undertaker (w/ Paul Bearer) vs. "Superfly" Jimmy Snuka - WrestleMania VII, March 24, 1991

And it all begins at a Mania that was pretty much a fiasco. The show was supposed to take place at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, but the official story is a "bomb threat" (snicker) saw it moved to the much smaller L.A. Sports Arena instead. In reality, most everyone not named "McMahon" admits the ticket sales were terrible, spurred on by a main event angle that exploited the Gulf War. The show had one all-time great contest (Randy Savage vs. Ultimate Warrior in a "Career-Ending" Match -- double snicker), but otherwise would be mostly a footnote in wrestling history if it wasn't for the Mania debut of the Dead Man.

The significance of the match has been inflated by WWE's history, as well. They tell the tale of Taker beating a legend in his first outing, but Snuka was at the tail end of his WWF run here, and this was basically a farewell job to put the next big thing over. Jimmy's wearing boots and a goatee, both of which make you do a double-take and wonder if it's really him.

Taker is a mere four months into his WWF run, and is still pretty green as a wrestler. Then again, "pretty green" is a relative term from that era of wrestling to now -- Mark Callaway began wrestling back in 1984, making him a seven-year veteran by the time of this match. Nowadays, guys way younger get rushed up to the main roster within six months of training. No one has any patience. If they'd done that with the Taker, maybe he never gets over, maybe he gets dropped and maybe an entire era of wrestling never happens.

For a guy who's supposed to be a monster heel, Taker's already getting a lot of cheers as he enters. They throw in a buncha shots of kids being scared of him to try and counteract it, but it just kinda underscores how awesome his aura is. Taker's in his old school black trunks and shirt with grey gloves, and accompanied by new manager Paul Bearer (positively svelte here), who'd been introduced just a few weeks prior. Paul replaced Taker's original manager, Brother Love. No, I'm NOT kidding. Oh, and another fun fact -- Taker was introed at Survivor Series as just "The Undertaker," but someone decided he needed a proper name, as well. So for a few weeks, they called him "Kane The Undertaker." Really. Life is weird.

Long standing and staring moment right after the opening bell. Crowd "Hoo!"s for Snuka. Taker attacks from behind to start off, nailing Jimmy with punches and kicks in the corner. Another fun fact: Snuka's pet name from the announcers is "The Phenom," which would eventually be usurped by Taker. More slow domination by the Dead Man, followed by his wicked flying clothesline, which remains one his pet moves. Damn, he gets some height on that.

More slow dominance with chokes and stuff, as Snuka's gotten no offense yet. He finally reverses a whip into the corner, but a big boot from Taker sends him to the floor. Paul, cheering him on, clearly hasn't decided to take his voice into its later breaking-glass-falsetto range yet. Taker suplexes Snuka back in, but a big elbow misses, finally giving Superfly an opening. Snuka hits a few shots and headbutts, which Taker sells like he's being lightly tapped with a whiffle ball bat. Snuka tries a whip but it gets reversed, and Taker casually moves out of the way of a Jimmy dive, sending Snuka barrelling over the top to the floor.

Snuka tries to catch Taker with some shots and a headbutt as he's coming back in, then slingshots off the top...and gets caught. Snuka was supposed to go straight from that into the Tombstone, which would have been damn impressive, but Jimmy didn't get up high enough for it to work. So Taker has to PUT HIM DOWN, punch him, and then pick him up normally for the Tombstone for the pin. Sloppy ending aside, this was a basic, by-the-numbers squash to put the new monster heel over. Wouldn't be noteworthy if it hadn't been for what it started.