This review was commissioned by Zeke over on my Ko-fi account.
The thing that’s difficult about the WWE this century is breaking through the mass produced sheen that covers it all. Those HD cameras, the glossiness of the lights, the too bright colors that reek of plastic. There’s a number of fans that can’t bare any of it, and that artificial quality of the company’s presentation simply scares off many. A lot of that is what has made Gunther’s run on the main roster so damn impressive. Here we have him towards the start of his much beloved Intercontinental Championship, in what might arguably be the signature match of the entire (truly, genuinely) great reign.
Gunther’s style of pro wrestling might be some of the easiest to latch onto for those allergic to the WWE of it all. It’s a very grounded, simple approach with a heavy emphasis on stiff strikes. He wrestles with such force and attention for even the most low-tier level of his offense that by the time the big lariats and powerbombs start flying, they feel like the climax of a relentless surge. It wouldn’t surprise me if the sheer physicality that Gunther brings to this bout might just be what’s most remembered about it–just this hard-hitting, scrappy fight that cuts through all the WWE bullshit including the manufactured feeling staredown amidst a big brawl that opens this bout.
And there’s certainly a healthy dose of that that’s 100% true. Gunther hits so goddamn hard in this match, and Sheamus is no slouch as well. Despite a majority of his career being spent on WWE TV, Sheamus’ style seems to have only grown rougher around the edges, for the better. He’s out there truly swinging and it’s the perfect complement to what Gunther brings and the style that he loves.
What’s so impressive about this match on this go around though, is how much of this isn’t reliant on the striking at all. Stiff shots, as with anything else in pro wrestling, are a tool that can be utilized well or mishandled. In this match, while being what’s so striking (pun unintended but I will take all the credit for it) about it all on the surface level, it’s also still just a narrative means to support the pro wrestling ass spirit that’s lying underneath. Gunther’s too imposing to ever truly make the chickenshit heel act work, but he’s able to get across his sneakiness in other ways that come through beautifully here. True, he’ll throw hands at the bell in a prideful stance on proving his superiority, but the winning strategy that cuts off Sheamus is so unnecessarily cruel: a big powerbomb on the steel steps on the outside to cut off the babyface shine.
The work these two men do during the control segment is what really makes this match sing. Gunther’s vicious and targeted with his attack on the back, throwing in all those lovely chops and clubbing blows to give the control some flavor. Meanwhile, Sheamus turns in what may be a career babyface performance on his part. His pale skin naturally reddens and bruises from Gunther’s onslaught and combined with his rather grounded selling performance, Sheamus becomes a real easy hero to root for. He has an earthy, blue collar feel to him in this bout, someone who’s just looking to fight in the simplest way possible to get what he wants. To add to this, Sheamus beautifully throws in some Steamboat rule application, getting in these brief, crackling hope spots that Gunther so viciously shuts down.
And it’s in the comeback that one feels that flavor of classic American pro wrestling shining through.
It’s sort of beautiful how well Gunther and Sheamus pace it out–starting the comeback but allowing it to build in stages. Sheamus is able to regain control on the outside and starts beating on Gunther’s chest, but doesn’t get the full 10 Beats of the Bodhran. That makes the anticipation for it all the richer, while also showcasing Gunther’s fear to take the punishment. Getting it on the apron at least feels so sweet, and the beating continues on the ringside area again when Gunther tries to slither away. Such fundamental stuff, the ecstasy of Sheamus getting that man’s ass.
And then the finishing stretch has some nice nerd shit to sustain as well. Things like Sheamus having to catch Gunther on the top rope to nail the White Cross as his back would have been too shot to get Gunther on his own power. All the little things Sheamus does as far as the back selling go bring so much to the table, even if it’s just stalling him long enough to justify Gunther kicking out of a big bomb, a classic little American wrestling trick. And it stings just as much in the end too that it’s the back that ends up costing him, giving Gunther the opening to push through and get the win.
It’s a match so goddamn good that it actually inspires hope for things that won’t come. For months, I was convinced that something this great could only really end with Sheamus finally conquering the big man. It doesn’t happen that way, and that’s really not so bad. But to create that faith and belief that a good thing might yet happen, that’s a special kind of thing that only the best pro wrestling can achieve.
Rating: ****1/4
