Voodoo's Reflections: The 8 Worst Storyline Payoffs in Wrestling History (#2-1)

Thank you to everyone who has followed this series so far and left me great feedback. It's been a fun ride, but now it's time to count down to No. 1.

What is the worst angle payoff of all time? 

There are actually three topics covered today; however, instead of doing it like I did yesterday (i.e. #3B, 3A) I'm going to honor the upcoming Olympic games and treat this like a medal ceremony. That's right, today we're going to honor the bronze, silver, and gold medal winners of awful.

If you missed Part 1 or Part 2, feel free to read them before you move on.

Let's get started!

(Dis)honorable Mentions

Three Angle Payoffs You Won't See and Why:

- I Screwed Your Brains Out: The Katie Vick Story

- David Arquette is WCW's World Champion

- The Fingerpoke of Doom: Wrong Finger, Buddy

These three angles, while they were all really terrible, will not make this list. Why? Because this series is about the worst angle payoffs, not the worst angles.

The three angles listed above were absolutely horrific for various reasons—they were obscene, they killed the business, etc.—but the fact is that all of the angles were bad ideas to begin with. There was no way that the payoff could've been anything other than terrible.

The angles on this list are ones that started off as being possibly really good, but ultimately fell flat on their face. Katie Vick was always going to be tasteless, and it was kind of thrown in there in the middle of an already iffy Triple H-Kane feud.

Arquette winning the title was just a terrible idea that was thrown out there for...some reason. The Fingerpoke was pretty much just the icing on cake of WCW's bad decisions.

If you want to try and convince me why one of those angles belongs (and I'd maybe listen to one on The Fingerpoke of Doom), feel free.

If not...enjoy the rest of the list!

Bronze Medal: Sting vs. Hollywood Hogan, Starrcade 1997

If ever there were a university class as to how to book professional wrestling, the first lesson in the curriculum should be that of Sting vs. Hogan at Starrcade 1997.

This angle represented both ends of the spectrum as far as what to do and what not to do in professional wrestling. Sting-Hogan provided a textbook example of how you properly book a long-term feud; it also provided the most glaring case of how you do not finish it off.

So, back in 1996, there was a little group that formed called the nWo. This group was made up of three guys you may have heard of: Hulk Hogan, Kevin Nash, and Scott Hall. They were out to destroy WCW, and understandably this angered some of the WCW performers.

One of the guys who stepped up to the plate to defend WCW’s honor was Sting, a man who was almost as synonymous with WCW as Ric Flair; in order to defend the honor of WCW, he and three allies—Ric Flair, Lex Luger, and Arn Anderson—were going to battle the nWo at Fall Brawl 1996.

The nWo would introduce a fake Sting, claiming that Sting had turned his back on WCW. The nWo’s plan would be exposed, but Sting’s partners would go on to doubt his loyalty enough that Sting would turn his back on both WCW and the nWo; his appearance would change from his old blonde surfer-type gimmick to a dark, long-haired, silent menace (based on The Crow) who lurked in the rafters, not saying a word on WCW programming for over a year.

Sting would finally declare his loyalty to WCW by taking out the nWo at Uncensored 1997. The build would continue until Starrcade, when Sting would face Hollywood Hogan for the title. Mind you, this build took almost a year and a half.

A year and a half!

When was the last time we saw a pro wrestling feud build up for even a month? The closest we’ve gotten in recent years was maybe CM Punk vs. John Cena at Money in the Bank 2011, which was only a month-long build, and that’s considered to be one of the best feuds in recent memory (and the match itself got a five star rating from Dave Meltzer).

And here was a feud between WCW’s biggest hero (Sting) and its biggest enemy (Hogan), and it was allowed to simmer, boil, and brew for a year and a half.

When it came time for the match itself, you could feel the excitement in the air. When Sting entered the arena for the match—still one of the most awesome entrances ever—you could almost feel the people clamoring for Sting to finally take it to Hogan and the dastardly nWo; he was going to teach them a lesson and reclaim the title once and for all.

But that’s not what happened. And that’s why this payoff is one of the worst of all time.

As soon as the bell rang, the wheels fell off the wagon. Hogan didn’t want to put over Sting clean; Hogan, then, essentially walloped on Sting for 20 minutes before pinning him with the leg drop. And I mean pinning him clean.

Before the bell could ring, however, Bret Hart, who was making his WCW debut, forced a restart to the match, claiming that referee Nick Patrick (who was known to often favor the nWo) had done a fast count on the pin and proclaimed that “it wasn’t going to happen again” (referring to the Montreal Screwjob, which had happened only a month before.)

The only the problem was that there was no fast count. Watch the video above: Patrick counting a normal three-count on Sting. So, when Hart had the match continue, it made no sense, since all that had happened was that Sting—after a year and a half of build-up—got his butt handed to him and was pinned cleanly in the middle of the ring.

After the match restarted, Sting would give Hogan a couple of Stinger splashes and lock him in the Scorpion Deathlock. Hart, now the referee, called for the bell; the dastardly Hogan had submitted.

Except the problem was that Hogan never tapped out (which had, by this time, replaced the “referee’s discretion” so to speak in determining when someone had submitted). The WCW wrestlers came down to the ring to celebrate with their hero, lifting him above their heads (the WCW title held high,) celebrating the defeat of the nWo.

But when you look at it, that’s not what really happened.

Hart, for all intents and purposes, had just screwed Hogan out of the WCW Championship. Hogan had beaten Sting clean, only to have a biased official (Hart) restart the match and call for the bell when Hogan was in the Scorpion Deathlock.

The same hold that Hart used as his finisher, better known as the Sharpshooter. You know, just like Vince McMahon did to him a month ago. When Sting celebrated his title win, he was celebrating a fluke and a screwjob.

Whoops.

The feel-good moment of Sting—after a year and a half-long build—winning the title had been tainted. The enormous buildup had been blown up in one night. Sting, based on this controversial ending, would be forced to vacate the title soon after. He would win it back, but within months Hogan and the nWo would be back in control of the title.

Hogan’s ego, as it had so many times before, had run wild (no pun intended). He didn’t want to lose the title clean and properly finish what had been the greatest build in the history of pro wrestling, so we had to settle for the clustershmazz at Starrcade.

This bad taste would continue until the day that WCW went under: the ego of the older, more established guys would not allow for anyone else to break through into the main event. From 1997 until WCW folded in 2001, only Goldberg was allowed to break through to the main event and win the title, and even he had his legs cut off by Hogan and the nWo.

Because WCW was never going to put over new talent, because fans knew that (even in the case of a fantastic build like Sting-Hogan 1997) every storyline would end with one of the old guard coming out on top.

So fans stopped coming, they stopped watching, they stopped supporting. And, slowly but surely, WCW faded away. In 2001, for a pittance, WWE purchased WCW and put what was once the biggest wrestling company in the world out of business.

Just think: all WCW had to do was show that it was willing to reinvent itself a little bit. Not a lot, just a little bit; put over a few new guys here and there, have people in power that wouldn’t listen to guys like Hogan and force new blood into the main event. Maybe WCW would still be around today if there was a constant refreshing of talent at the top.

But they didn’t. And so they’re not.

Silver Medal: The WCW/ECW Invasion

Surprise. The infamous Invasion is not the overall No.1.

It may be a controversial choice, calling arguably the most infamously botched angle of all time the second-worst payoff ever, but I think it’s the only way to go. Because really, when you think about it, the Invasion never had a chance to be great in the first place.

Come back with me to 2001 for a minute. As I just covered in the Sting-Hogan angle, WCW’s stubborn refusal to put anyone new over helped put WCW out of business, and so in 2001 Vince McMahon bought the company, and all of its assets, for a measly few million dollars.

Well, not all of its assets. And that was the first problem; there were some guys that couldn’t be (or didn’t want to be) bought out of their contracts. Guys like Sting, Hogan, Goldberg, Nash, Flair, and Steiner were not going to be coming over to WWE; Vince, then, was stuck with a bunch of nobodies and a handful of stars that decided to come work for WWE.

One of these guys was Diamond Dallas Page, and I’ve already covered what happened to him. The other big star who came over was Booker T, who happened to be the WCW Champion at the time.

You’d think that WCW in WWE would be built around someone like Booker, but you’d be wrong; remember, on the final episode of Nitro, Shane McMahon was revealed as the “owner” of WCW.

We didn’t know it yet, but that was when the troubles began. Shane, who was a relatively major babyface at the time, was in the midst of a huge feud with his father Vince, and were preparing for a street fight at WrestleMania X-7.

So, when WCW was sold to Vince a week before WrestleMania, it turned out that Shane was the one who signed the ownership papers. This added more fuel to an already excellent feud, which led to a highly entertaining match at WrestleMania between the elder McMahon and his son (who won the match.)

Once WrestleMania was over, WWE could finally focus on what to do with WCW. The original plan, as Jim Ross wrote on WWE.com at the time, was for WWE to give WCW its own show; to get some of the WCW performers some exposure before this happened, certain WCW stars “invaded” WWE programming.

The intial shot—fired by Lance Storm, of all people—actually went over well; the fans cheered like crazy for Storm upon his appearance.

Soon after, both DDP (as the stalker) and Booker T (interfering with the title match at King of the Ring) began making their presence known on WWE programming. The Invasion was on.

However, things started going wrong right there. The WCW programming never came to fruition, mainly because no TV network wanted to touch WCW again. So, Creative came together and decided that they would have some WCW matches on WWE TV, leading to WCW invading WWE as a band of rebellious babyfaces, following in the lead of guys like Storm and Booker T.

Since Vince was already an established villain—not to mention that Steve Austin, who was now the WWE champ, had recently turned heel and aligned with McMahon—he would make an easy target for these scrappy WCW guys to go after.

One problem, though: the fans weren’t buying what the WCW guys were selling. When Booker T defended his title against Buff Bagwell and DDP, fans either sat on their hands or outright booed, mainly because the matches were conspicuously awful; I distinctly remember watching Booker T vs. DDP and thinking, “Wow, this is a really terrible match.”

It was only when guys like Austin and Kurt Angle interfered and beat up the WCW guys did the fans cheer like crazy; this was a problem, mainly because Austin and Angle were two of WWE’s biggest heels at the time.

So, Vince had to make a decision about his new acquisition. WCW had to be turned heel, including owner Shane (who had been in the midst of a really nice face run); ECW, which had also been bought by WWE, would be added to the mix to create the Alliance that was going to take on WWE and Vince McMahon (who was now suddenly turning face).

ECW was, of course, going to be led by…Stephanie McMahon.

It was at this point that the wheels completely began to come off. The Invasion angle, which was the basis of so many “what if?” storylines over the years, was now going to become the latest chapter of The McMahon Family Feud (which fans had seen enough of.)

Since none of the marquee WCW guys were coming over—and because the only two big WCW guys who came over, Booker T and DDP, were made to look like putzes over the summer—WWE decided to shoehorn guys like the Dudleys, Rhyno, Austin, and Angle into the Alliance to make it more credible.

Except that, you know, there was a problem: those guys I mentioned were WWE guys. Yes, all of them except for Angle had at one point wrestled for WCW and ECW, but they were essentially WWE guys. That meant that this “invasion” was more just…a normal WWE-driven angle with WWE heels taking on WWE faces.

By the time the Invasion ended at Survivor Series 2001, the only actual WCW/ECW guys who made it on the Alliance’s team were Booker T and Rob Van Dam (who was essentially a babyface anyway.)

After WWE defeated the Alliance in the Winner Take All match, the angle was terminated. The WCW/ECW guys had to beg for their jobs back. Some of them never really came back, or came back as lower-card jobbers.

Rob Van Dam had a nice push for a while, but got undermined by Triple H and his own pot-smoking ways. Of the people originally brought in during the Invasion, only Booker T remains with the company to this day (and even he left for a while).

So then why isn’t the Invasion No. 1 overall, you ask? For two main reasons.

First, WCW’s employees were never going to be treated as equals; without guys like Flair, Hogan, Goldberg, and others, WCW did not have the star power to be seen as being on equal footing with WWE’s guys. The people that came with WCW (and mostly ECW, save for RVD) were jokes, and were treated as such.

The second reason? Many of the matches and promos we saw during the Invasion angle—especially the Winner Take All match at Survivor Series—were awesome.

Really, if WWE never had the WCW/ECW aspect to play around with and simply went with what the angle eventually became—a group of WWE performers who were dissatisfied with their place in the company and set out to make a statement against the WWE by “invading” it and trying to turn things inside out—then it might be remembered as one of the better storylines in pro wrestling’s history. A group of guys trying to take on the system, us against the world.

Because, you see, storylines like that will always get people to watch.

Unless, of course, you do it all wrong…

Gold Medal: The Nexus

In today’s world of professional wrestling, very few things take us by surprise anymore.

Today’s fans are smarter, more informed, more connected. With the advent of dirt sheets and websites like Wrestlezone, F4W, and all the rest, things get leaked all the time and people find out what’s going to be featured on wrestling programming before it even happens.

Yes, of course, we (usually) still enjoy these things, but we know they’re coming. Take, for instance, Chris Jericho’s WWE return in 2007: all the rumor mills and websites were showing how it was going to be Chris Jericho, they were saying that Jericho was in town for WWE tapings, etc.

We all knew that he was the subject of the “Who Will Save Us?” promos. That doesn’t mean we didn’t all mark out like little kids when Y2J finally returned (I know I did), but we knew nonetheless.

However, June 7, 2010, was different.

June 7, 2010 put us on our collective butts. It was the end of a Viewer’s Choice episode of Raw—it must be said, that episode was terrible—during a John Cena vs. CM Punk match. Suddenly, Wade Barrett sauntered down to the ring.

Everyone knew who Wade Barrett was, since he had just won the first season of NXT and was proclaimed WWE’s next breakout superstar.  

Besides, Barrett had just recently cut a promo saying how he was going to be making an impact. It didn’t seem like it was going to be anything out of the ordinary; people walk down the ramp all the time.

Then, before he even got to the ring, Michael Tarver showed up on camera. Then Heath Slater. Before we knew it, the entire cast NXT Season 1 was at ringside, beating up everyone. And I mean everyone. They beat up the babyface John Cena. They beat the heel CM Punk and his Straightedge Society.

They beat up the announcers and production guys (including Daniel Bryan infamously strangling Justin Roberts).  They destroyed the announce tables and the ring itself.

It was on. A new invasion was on.

Here was a group of people—much like the Alliance back in the day—that wanted to make an impact in WWE. However, the Alliance guys were treated like jokes and were beaten up by WWE guys at every turn; these new guys, the NXT rookies, were anything but jokes.

They banded together, and they stood together, and they beat up anyone and everyone that was in their way. They took Vince McMahon off TV. They beat up Bret Hart and forced him (in storyline) to give up his GM position.

They made life hell for John Cena and any other wrestler in their path. They were, for the lack of a better way to put it, a pack of wild animals. They called themselves The Nexus, and they were out to take over.

It needs to be said: this is how you start an angle off. You take a bunch of outsiders, suddenly and without warning, and have them lay waste to everything in their path. This is how Scott Hall started the nWo, and how they got over as a big threat, and it looked like The Nexus would do the same.

They were unhappy with being seen as “only rookies,” and with Wade Barrett at the helm they were going to claim what was rightfully theirs.

But as we all know, and painfully remember, that’s not at all what happened.

After the first few weeks, when all The Nexus did was randomly attack people and demand respect, it started getting a bit repetitive. The group had not actually participated in, you know, a match yet; when they did, it became clear that these guys were not going to dominate in the ring the way the nWo did at first. They were going to be treated like rookies.

I don’t know about you, but when The Nexus started competing in matches, only one thing crossed my mind: Oh no.

Not again. Not another invasion angle gone down the same road. Please don’t job them out the way The Alliance was. But it was too late: we all knew it was coming. We didn’t want to admit it, but everyone knew that the inevitable was on its way. And it was.

John Cena would begin feuding officially with Nexus, and would lose to them in a 6-on-1 handicap match, but it was actually a lot closer than one would expect when one person takes on six people. Oh no.

At Summerslam 2010, John Cena put together a Team WWE to take on Team Nexus. John would fight alongside Edge, Chris Jericho, R-Truth, Bret Hart, John Morrison, and a returning Daniel Bryan (as Team WWE) to take on The Nexus in an elimination match. Team WWE won.

Of course they did.

Yes, Nexus put up a fight, but in the end they couldn’t pull it off.

When the nWo first formed, one of the main reasons they got so over was because they didn’t lose. But Nexus lost. They lost more than they should have. At Summerslam, Team Nexus needed to obliterate Team WWE in order to be taken seriously. But once again, they came up short.

And that would be the name of the game throughout the rest of their tenure; yes, they would manage to force John Cena to work for them and ultimately get him “fired,” but Cena would return time and again to obliterate them in the end.

Over time, Nexus would begin coming apart at the seams. Darren Young would be thrown out of the group; Skip Sheffield would injure his ankle and be written out; Michael Tarver would get injured and get thrown out as well. Barrett would be ousted from the group and move to Smackdown, where he’d start The Corre (which was a joke).

CM Punk took over the leadership of The New Nexus, but the group would be dismantled by Randy Orton and disappeared quietly once CM Punk cut his now famous worked shoot promo in June 2011 and feuded with Cena.

It all started so promisingly, and it all ended so badly. WWE’s main event scene had become incredibly stale, and here was a chance to finally add some new blood into the main event scene and create some legitimate excitement (which it did for a while.) People wanted to believe. People bought in. And in the end, it was just status quo all over again. Cena wins. The new guys get punished. Oh no.

Vince McMahon should consider himself lucky: if it weren’t for the fact that there really isn’t a secondary wrestling promotion that is neck-and-neck with WWE, the Nexus angle might have had the same effect as Sting-Hogan and WCW’s inability to put new guys over. If TNA were actually on WWE’s heels, WWE might have a serious problem now.

But they’re not. So WWE will just sit back and reap their earnings, without knowing how much damage The Nexus angle—and its horrible payoff—could have caused.

Oh well.

Conclusion, Preview?

So, there you go. The worst payoffs in wrestling history. I hope you enjoyed!

You know what I'm thinking, too? While it was fun looking at all these angles, it tended to be a bit...I don't know, depressing.  So you know what I'm going to do next? I'm going to the other side, and I'm going to take a look at the wrestling payoffs that made us happy.

So tune in next week for The Best Storyline Payoffs in Wrestling History.

Leave your thoughts!