Randy Orton's RKO counter to Evan Bourne's Shooting Star Press has left me speechless. Truly, I am so speechless that I have been unable to verbally communicate with my friends and family for the past week. In place of trying to express my thoughts and feelings through text, I have been reduced to speaking to them through move reversal.
If I counter a Shooting Star Press into an RKO, that means yes. If I counter a Shooting Star Press into a Shooting Star Press of my own, that means I'm thirsty. If I blink twice, that means nothing as that is not a wrestling counter. Maybe I should have thought this means of communication through, but it's too late now. My grandma — whose wrestling style is most similar to that of a technical brawler — already signed up for wrestling lessons to learn how to do the move. At this point, her deposit is non-refundable.
Wrestling counters have wowed audiences for decades, dramatically ending matches in the blink of an eye — which continues to have no meaning in my method of communication. In a time when older fans are constantly complaining about the predictability of WWE, quick counters are a way to add suspense and surprise to the viewing experience. The next time a fellow wrestling fan hates on WWE, quickly counter his hate into love. He must learn that witnessing a fast-paced, well-executed counter is like finding a Cheeto made of two Cheetos stuck together in a bag of Cheetos. He probably wasn’t expecting to receive such a gift, but he should grateful to get one in the first place.
This week, I will take a look at my favourite counters in professional wrestling. While some reversals involve gravity-defying acrobatics, others employ simple yet clever tactics to escape a hold. As much as I enjoy watching an intricate series of actions and reactions, a poke to the eye or rake to the back can suffice as well. On second thought, if the move that is being reversed is a poke to the back, I want nothing to do with it. A poke to the back is disrespectful, inconvenient, and may result in unwanted pregnancy.
You call it an athletic sequence of pin attempts between two talented cruiserweights. I call it "The Travelling Live Sex Celebration." Together, we can agree that a sequence of rolling inside cradles is a flashy, fun, and erotic form of entertainment for wrestling fans of any age. If you are a mother or father of curious children, do not bother trying to explain your intimate escapades to them. If they walk into your bedroom, tell them you're practicing Lucha Libre, figuring out who can cradle the other the best. Your English-speaking kids will think you're speaking gibberish. On the other hand, your illegitimate, Spanish-speaking kids will love it as much as they want you to love them.
Who is that woman? Where is Guadalupe, their real mother? Oh, those crazy, illegitimate children and their questions.
Matt Hardy's Side Effect can be best described as a forceful, sit-down side slam. Likewise, the counter to Matt Hardy's Side Effect can be best described as a forceful, sit-down side slam. To this day, I do fully understand what Matt Hardy's Side Effect accomplishes. Of course, the move can effectively incapacitate your opponent for a near-three count, but it does so at the expense of the executor's modern physical appearance.
As long as he is content with constantly looking like he is trapped in the late 1990s, I am happy for Matt Hardy and his Side Effect. He seems like such a good person. If he enjoys slamming his opponent back-first onto the mat while he himself slams his back onto the mat, more power to him. Now, let’s go listen to some New Radicals.
Halloween Havoc 1998 was a WCW Pay-Per-View event that proved two things. For one, the Pay-Per-View proved that giant ghouls love to show off their inflatable pumpkins to people. For two, the main event WCW Championship Match between Diamond Dallas Page and Goldberg proved that Billiam could get it done. When he was not blowing smoke out of his nostrils or abusing innocent lockers, he was more than capable of wrestling in a professional manner. On top of making his moves look good, he made the moves of others look good, too.
Most definitely, the sight of Page flawlessly countering Goldberg's Jackhammer into the Diamond Cutter is a fond wrestling memory of mine. Whenever I come across this match, I yearn for the return of World Championship Wrestling. I don't think I ever got closure on this Halloween Havoc business. That ghoul on the entrance ramp loved his pumpkin, but posters for the event made it seem as though he loved Slim Jims just as much. Which does he love more? Pumpkins or beef jerky? I need an answer, ghoul friend.
In 2005, Shelton Benjamin looked to advance in the WWE Championship Gold Rush Tournament with a high-impact, springboard move. As he sprung himself from one end of the ring to the other, Shawn Michaels caught him in mid-air with the sweetest Sweet Chin Music in recent WWE history. At the time, I was like any other viewer, shocked and amazed by what I saw before me. Now that I have revisited the match, I am in awe of another aspect of the finish. Specifically, I want to know what move Shelton Benjamin was trying to do before eating said Superkick.
Some wrestling analysts believe that Benjamin was aiming to hit Michaels with a springboard clothesline. Although I see the springboard part of the move, I was not aware that a clothesline involves raising both hands in front of your face. Other wrestling fans insist that Shelton was looking to hit a double axe handle, but I disagree. Propelling yourself off the top rope to hit a double axe handle is like taking a fourteen-hour flight to China to buy groceries. From my observations, I conclude that this spectacular finish was initiated by Shelton showing Shawn his love for springboarding. Unfortunately, Michaels did not share Shelton’s passion for the activity.
Before he was "The Viper" — acting like a snake who somehow injures himself while taunting — Randy Orton was "The Legend Testikiller." During a 2007 WWE Championship Match against Shawn Michaels, Orton executed a beautiful, legend-killing counter to Sweet Chin Music. As Michaels tuned up the band and lifted his leg, Randy drove his fist into the Heartbreak Kid's groin. Even though the blow did not put an end to his wrestling career, Shawn’s baby-making career was in jeopardy.
Three years later, Shawn's inability to reproduce drove him mad. Looking for an outlet to express his anger and frustration, he would take it out on the Undertaker — who only experienced slight groinal pain when slipping on the top rope for Old School.
Are you Triple H? If you are not Triple H, are you Scott Hall? If you are Triple H or Scott Hall, I would refrain from attempting your finishing move near the ropes. Not only will you not have room to properly execute the finisher, you are giving your opponent the perfect opportunity to lift you up and over those ropes.
While I am a big fan of this counter, the move has made me scared to do anything near a set of ropes or rope-like barrier. In vacation photos at high altitudes, I am often located at least ten metres away from the barrier. At that height, I fear that a fellow tourist will flip me over the barricade and send me falling to my death. Perhaps I should stop setting other tourists up for the Pedigree and Outsider's Edge, but that's the way I travel. I don’t think I could enjoy the sight of the Grand Canyon if I couldn’t nail some elderly vacationers from Iowa with a finisher or five.
Thanks to Ric Flair and Shawn Michaels, I need not adhere to the laws of physics anymore. Ever since I first witnessed them counter an Irish whip into a corner flip over the turnbuckles, I have laughed in the face of physicists (the true enemies of professional wrestling). They claim that an object cannot possibly change its own trajectory while in motion. I claim that a moving object (my fist) can change its own trajectory when in search of a ignorant, ugly surface to punch (their faces).
Recently, I invaded the estate of Sir Isaac Newton and showed his ancestors a recording of the counter. After refusing to leave the living room, his family tried to Irish whip me off their property. In turn, I flipped over their fence and maniacally cackled all the way home. A truck ended up clotheslining me as I showed off on the sidewalk, but at least I proved my point.
In his tank-top-and-jean-shorts heyday, Billy Kidman was famous for countering any and all powerbomb attempts into a facebuster. Even wrestlers who never had the move in their arsenal would try to force Kidman down via powerbomb, only for Billy to bust their faces onto the canvas instead. Kidman's love for this counter suggests me to that this is how he prefers to live his life. At first, Torrie Wilson approved of his uncanny ability to reverse everything into a face buster. As time passed, she grew restless with him as Billy would not stop hitting the counter in the bedroom. On their divorce papers, Torrie states that the reason why they could not make the marriage work was due to "irreconcilable differences into facebuster."
My admiration for Kidman's facebuster has not let up, but I do feel sorry for the man who popularized the move. While I wish to personally congratulate Billy Kidman on a counter well done, I quite like the current state of my face. Once I decide to bust it, I shall give him a call.
For years, Rob Van Dam has caught unsuspecting foes with his patented step-over spinning heel kick. After thousands of matches, you would think that his opponents would know when the move was coming, yet they keep on falling for it. I'm not sure why they fail to anticipate the counter, but I do have a theory. Whenever a wrestler catches Rob Van Dam's foot in his hands, he must be engaging in some sort of complicated role-playing game.
In this game, the wrestler is the police officer. Rob Van Dam's foot is a shirtless Rob Van Dam speeding down the highway in his rental car with his friend Sabu. Also, Rob Van Dam's foot smells like marijuana and butt sweat.
As a general rule, I do not condone fighting unless you are doing so for a good cause. For your information, fighting to impress a girl, acquire free lunches, or initiate a national cheerleading competition are excellent causes. In the event that you find yourself in a schoolyard or office fight, I suggest you take a page from classic wrestling video games. When a punch or kick comes along, you must thrust your chest forward.
Thank you, THQ games on the Nintendo 64, for teaching us that sticking out your chest is the solution to everything. Out of the 1,256 unsanctioned fights I had as a youngling after school, I won 1,253 of them by sticking out my chest with an intense glare. As my finishing move, I would usually take a large block of cheese or oversized can of Steveweiser from the crowd of onlookers and hit my enemy over the head with it. Finally, a caricature of Earl Hebner would appear in front of us and count the pinfall. I was ecstatic about every victory, yet my one, blocky facial expression said otherwise.
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