WWF Shotgun Saturday Night, New York, NY
A request! This is the fourth episode of Shotgun Saturday Night, so they’re still a live show, late on Saturday night, live from a small, “cool” New York venue (in this case, Webster Hall), and the entire concept is to be edgier, more in tune with Generation X and the video game commercials of 1995.
Look, basically, the show was meant to be ECW.
A month after this, they were done with the nightclub thing, they were done with the live aspect, and it was just matches taped before or after Raw, and all the other little accents meant to make it fresh and exciting were dropped soon enough, too, and it just became a standard B-show.
(Requests open and tips always appreciated!)
But in the six weeks that Shotgun existed as it was imagined (the seventh show was basically Todd Pettengill standing on the road and showing highlights from the first six), there was some memorable stuff. Marlena got her tits out at The Sultan; though covered in about four layers of Vaseline and some pasties, it was notable. Undertaker tombstoned Hunter Helmsley in the subway. And there’s a Bret Hart vs Mick Foley match here that probably not many people have watched, relatively speaking.
This week’s hosts are Vince McMahon and Owen Hart. Look at Vince in his casual Gen X nightclub fit:
He’s even trying to act all loosey-goosey.
The match here starts with Mankind being a pervert at some dancing ladies, so Bret comes from behind to rescue him.
I’m gonna tell you who’s not cut out for being an ECW style commentator: Owen Hart. Well, and Vince, but definitely Owen.
It’s a small ring, because the space is pretty limited, and they’ve got yellow ropes here. The sound and appearance really is ECW style. Sunny joins commentary. Great. Another genius, multi-layered character speaking.
It’s all simple brawling early, then they go outside and Bret slams Mankind’s head into the guardrail. They fight up to the commentary table, which is on a stage, and Mankind takes a suplay on the stage, then tumbles down some steps, which lead right down to the ring.
Vince keeps calling the dancers “little ladies,” it’s exceptionally off-putting. Owen’s commentary is annoying in his normal child-brained way. “He’s a quitter who cheats! I hate my brother!”
More simple brawling. These guys have been around, man, they know when it’s worth it to turn up the volume and when it’s not, and they know that this latest Vince idea isn’t going to last and that “Webster Hall” isn’t worthy of their best effort. But they’re pros so they can make it fine enough without expending much energy.
Vince and Bret had recently been at odds on TV after the ’97 Rumble controversy, the lead to Final Four in February, all that. The seeds for the Bret heel turn are being planted aggressively, and probably really started in November ’96 when he returned at Survivor Series, and MSG wasn’t 100 percent in his corner against Steve Austin.
I knock Vince the Creative Genius a lot for missing the obvious many times over the years, or during the 20 years where he had no competition to be concerned about in any way, insisting on his own failing ideas simply because he didn’t have to do anything other than what he wanted. But he got all that right, and it was at a time when he wasn’t getting a whole lot right, in all honesty. I think you can look at him assessing the Austin/Hart situation in late ’96 into ’97 and see the beginning of him sort of turning things around for the WWF, same as you can look at Starrcade ’97 and see very clearly that was the beginning of the end for WCW, even if ratings stayed fine for a while or whatever.
Anyway, Mankind with the running knee in the corner. Hey, credit where credit’s due, Sunny is trying really hard to engage McMahon on the sort of level this show is designed, but then Owen starts talking about Bret being a “crybaby.” Get this fucking nerd out of here. He’s wearing his singlet for God’s sake.
Bret takes the chest bump in the corner, Mankind hits a legdrop right after for a two count, then a snapmare into a chinlock. Owen says Bret is a “loser” like the Patriots, whom he predicts will lose the Super Bowl the following night. Sunny agrees the Patriots will lose. McMahon has no opinion because as we are all aware, he doesn’t know fucking shit about football. The Packers did beat the Patriots, 35-21.
Hart trying to fight out of a chinlock and gets dropped with a single right hand. Owen hates Webster Hall. Good way to make the show seem exciting and cool. I understand it’s classic heel stuff, but it doesn’t work in this case, because you’re trying to use the venue as a clear positive for what you’re presenting. But again, it didn’t last long anyway.
“What kind of a brother are you, wishing ill?” Vince asks Owen. Vince, watch the show for the last three years. Again, this is all fine for a standard WWF show. It doesn’t work here.
Mankind winds up on the floor and is pointing at the “little ladies,” he’s just SO horny. We go to break as he once again tries to get after them, but Hart cuts him off.
After the break, Vince says, “It ain’t City Hall, it sure ain’t Seton Hall, no, it’s WEBSTER Hall!” …true!
Mankind gets crotched on the guardrail and clotheslined off, then rammed into the small wooden steps. Oh good, let’s pitch it to Todd Pettengill.
This show is a bunch of incredibly uncool people have no idea how to execute the idea they put together. Todd Pettengill is really really not cool. You know how I know that? He constantly says things are “so cool.”
Hart with a suplay. Owen tries to put over Webster Hall now, saying it’s “rockin’ like it’s never rocked before.” This seems unlikely. If they ever had so much as a ZZ Top cover band in there, it rocked harder than this is rocking.
Double-arm DDT from Mankind after Bret misses his diving elbow from the second rope. You always knew when Bret was gonna miss because he turned and landed on his ass instead of coming straight down on his knees with the pointed elbow.
Mankind misses a charge into the corner. Lazy Russian legsweep from Bret, Brad Armstrong would have vomited if he saw that. The Sandman would have vomited, too, but just because he was drunk. Elbow hits this time. Right hands, running bulldog, two count. Lazy swinging neckbreaker also gets two.
Backbreaker from Bret. Owen and Sunny argue over Slammy Awards because she won “Best Buns” and “Best Manager.” Her “Best Buns” win was a travesty in a world where Marlena exists.
Sharpshooter from Hart, Owen leaves commentary and attacks for the DQ. Mankind just rolls away as the Harts fight to the back. Some dance music starts playing. Todd Pettengill and his cool goatee are with Paul Bearer. He’s squealing about liquor and women and sex distracting Mankind. He pervs after the ladies again.
I’d love to tell you two of my favorite wrestlers had a hidden gem sort of match on this episode of Shotgun Saturday Night, but they did not. The main thing of note here is really just that this was the only televised singles match these two ever had; actually, it’s the only televised match they ever had at all other than both being in the 1997 Royal Rumble.
It’s an OK basic brawling match. Bret’s on autopilot and Foley is more concerned about occasionally remembering that Mankind is very horny. The finish and the entire presentation make it clear McMahon had no clue how to do the sort of show this show was supposed to be. But it is a somewhat fascinating little failed experiment, too.
Tape Machines Are Rolling 
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