NAVIGATION OF RAGING OCEAN

 

Tatsuhito Takaiwa . . . smacks around NOAH juniors, both young and old.

Scorpio . . . looks for all the world like he got his name in the history books as half of the first GHC Tag Champs by riding Vader’s coattails.

Jun Akiyama . . . says ‘to hell with this fighting spirit nonsense’ and wins his match by being a smarter, and better, wrestler.

 

TATSUHITO TAKAIWA © vs. TSUYOSHI KIKUCHI (GHC Jr. Heavyweight Title)

Granted, the title wasn’t even six months old, but this is easily the grumpiest match in its short history. Takaiwa and Kikuchi have no qualms about stiffing the piss out of each other or taking decent sized bumps. Kikuchi tearing apart Takaiwa’s knee is probably the highlight of what’s shown, and there’s even something of a payoff when Kikuchi hits his Spider German suplex and Takaiwa sells the knee from the landing. Kikuchi also dishes out possibly the nastiest headbutt he’s ever done, without the aid of the microphone. And ironically, it’s when he decides to play to the crowd by grabbing the microphone that Takaiwa is able to turn things around. As expected, the match winds up coming down to the big spots, which is an area that hardly anyone is going to outdo Takaiwa in. But, they manage to add a nice touch by coming up with counters and reversals before things get too out of hand; it starts with Takaiwa starting his triple bomb but after the first one, Kikuchi takes him over with a rana after Takaiwa muscles him back up, and Takaiwa hits a lariat to the knee to counter Kikuchi’s dropkick. Kikuchi manages to survive both the lariat and Death Valley Bomb, leaving Takaiwa to hit the DVB off the top to finally keep him down. It had been quite a while since Kikuchi had really meant anything, but even in its clipped up form, this showed exactly what he could still do when he was afforded the chance.

 

TATSUHITO TAKAIWA © vs. NAOMICHI MARUFUJI (GHC Jr. Heavyweight Title)

While this is a fun match at times, it never develops itself enough to be anything more. The first thirty seconds look like it sets the stage for something great, but it never gets followed up in the right ways, which winds up being a recurring theme throughout. Takaiwa hits a big lariat at the bell and then plants Marufuji with the triple bomb, the final one being over the top and onto the ramp. But, instead of playing off of that with Marufuji fighting from underneath and having to weather the onslaught, he counters Takaiwa’s next powerbomb attempt into a rana and hits a superkick to basically reset the action. Once they both get into the ring, the match settles down for a bit with Marufuji not having much to do other than take a few bumps and sell, which he does a good job of. Takaiwa works some holds, including a nice sequence where he goes from an armbar to a sleeper, to a top head scissors, as well as a half crab, but none of them means anything. There’s a good sequence where Takaiwa hits a chop and Marufuji fires back, so he switches to a forearm and Marufuji still fires back, so Takaiwa hits a big lariat to halt any further attempts at a comeback.

 

The other big theme that comes and goes, before it can get fully fleshed out, is Marufuji’s knee being worked over. It happens when Takaiwa reverses a vertical suplex and Marufuji lands on his feet and tweaks the knee. Takaiwa smells the blood and goes right after it, with stomps, a couple of diving elbows, and even a figure four with Marufuji selling like he’s in agony. Then Marufuji lands on his feet when Takaiwa tries a German suplex and starts throwing dropkicks, baseball slides, and even a coast to coast springboard, and the knee is forgotten about. And that leaves them to start doling out the bombs to decide the match. The one nice touch they have is the ability to pull off surprise escapes and counters. It’s never a sure thing that Takaiwa can hit his powerbomb, or that Marufuji can take him over with a rana. Even in situations where it seems impossible for them to counter it, like Takaiwa’s cross-armed  powerbomb variation that Marufuji escapes from or Marufuji’s diving rana off the top rope that ends with Takaiwa catching him and hitting a powerbomb into the corner. They have a really nice moment when Takaiwa blocks a rana and muscles him up into a DVB for a near fall, but then Takaiwa ruins the moment by going right to the top rope for another DVB. Marufuji wins out by letting Takaiwa set him up for a super backdrop that he counters into a Shiranui off the top and then following with an SSP, rather than something more complex that Takaiwa might be able to counter. This certainly isn’t just a thoughtless spotfest, but it’s too bad that they didn’t do more to develop any themes after laying some groundwork. ***

 

VADER/SCORPIO © vs. MITSUHARU MISAWA/YOSHINARI OGAWA (GHC Tag Team Titles)

Scorpio and Ogawa started jawing during the champions’ entrance which triggered a brawl into the crowd, but the match never turned into the hateful affair that one would expect. Scorpio is mostly treated like an afterthought here; he can’t get anything going unless he gets some sort of assist from Vader, either with a double team move or Vader doing some damage and then tagging him in, like when he plants Misawa with a suplex and tags in Scorpio so that he can work a crossface that goes nowhere. The finish alone is enough to clarify this: Vader hits Ogawa with a powerbomb so that Scorpio can do the 450, but Ogawa rolls out of the way and Vader falls victim to an elbow attack on the ramp which leaves him unable to help, and after a running elbow (complete with a huge overdone bump from Scorp) and a backdrop hold, new champions are crowned. The Misawa/Vader exchanges aren’t anything that hadn’t been seen in their previous matches in All Japan or NOAH, and aside from pitching Vader with a German, there isn’t much of an arsenal from Misawa. Ogawa works pretty much the exact same way that he always does. His underdog antics look better against Vader than they would against, say, Masao Inoue, but there’s nothing from Ogawa to differentiate it. Vader catches him a few times, but he doesn’t really do any big damage when he does. The powerbomb at the end clearly didn’t hurt Ogawa all that much, and the earlier chokeslam actually pitched him into Misawa, which cushioned the blow if anything. For all the promise that the opening segment showed, this is decidedly mediocre with middling Misawa, typical Ogawa, and the champions reduced to looking like Vader and a warm body.

 

MITSUHARU MISAWA/YOSHINARI OGAWA © vs. TAKAO OMORI/YOSHIHIRO TAKAYAMA (GHC Tag Team Titles)

Watching Misawa get fired up and trade off elbows with Takayama during the opening exchange is like night and day from the previous match. And, for the most part, this works for what it is, although it feels a bit backwards in terms of structure. The bulk of the match is Misawa getting worked over by Takayama and Omori. The actual control segment isn’t much more than filler, and it doesn’t go anywhere especially interesting, it’s a lot of Misawa getting pasted with kicks, clubbing forearms, elbow drops, leg drops, knee drops, and a rail ride on the floor. But, it is Misawa, so he’s more than willing to take running boots from Takayama and dropkicks from Omori flush in the face. The highlight is when Takayama charges for a running boot and Misawa catches the foot, it looks like he’s about to start a comeback and Omori drills him with an Axe Bomber, and Misawa sells it like absolute death. Misawa’s actual comeback is rather underwhelming in comparison, he just decides to stop selling and casually gets up and hits a couple of elbows before he tags out. Ogawa being the hot tag is certainly a choice (as well as the idea for him to give Takayama the backdrop suplex), but his quick segment with Omori comes off fine, and after Misawa dispatches Takayama with an elbow that knocks him off the apron, Omori gets to be the victim of a few double team revenge spots.

 

The only real story to the match is how well it puts over the Axe Bomber as a lethal strike. The first one to Misawa almost seems to take No Fear by surprise, and by the time Takayama thinks to cover, Misawa has recovered enough to barely kick out. A bit later, Omori gives one to Ogawa and he’s down for a good bit of time too, and that gives Takayama and Omori the chance to rattle off some double teams on Misawa, along with a big kick from Takayama that sends him to the floor and keeps him there. That leaves Ogawa on his own. After another quick round of double teams, and Misawa unable to do anything to possibly delay the inevitable, one last Axe Bomber is able to finish off Ogawa. Overall, this is an improvement over both the tournament finals and the Misawa/Ogawa title win, but it’s still not a complete step in the right direction. The only thing more surprising than the fact that the third title match in history resulted in the crowning of the third set of champions is the fact that there have been just as many good titles matches as there have been successful defenses.

 

JUN AKIYAMA © vs. VADER (GHC Heavyweight Title)

Aside from the clever finish and paying off Akiyama working over Vader’s arm, this doesn’t have much going for it as a whole. The match isn’t terribly long (especially by NOAH main event/title match standards), so it stays relatively on task, and it’s easy to follow how the match develops. But it never gets especially deep. Take the early brawling between them that spills to the floor. It serves as a reminder of Akiyama’s struggles against Vader, and Akiyama’s bodyslam onto the table shows that he’s not the same young punk that Vader turned away in January of 2000, but it doesn’t do much in any other aspect. It’s certainly not a brawl on the level of Brody and Abby or Jumbo and Tenryu. The body part segment gives each of them something easy to do to fill time, but, until the finish, it doesn’t really have any other purpose. Akiyama works over Vader’s arm with some heelish stuff involving the rail and the post and he works some uncommon holds, but it doesn’t go anywhere. Aside from Akiyama escaping Vader’s second German by elbowing his arm, it doesn’t hamper Vader when it’s his turn to control the match. Sure, he mostly uses his right arm when throwing his punches, but it’s not like he’s making a point of keeping his left arm down to show that he’s keeping it protected. Then again, Vader has never been (and never needed to be) the standard of body part selling.

 

Vader’s control segment focusing on the midsection isn’t fundamentally different than Akiyama’s. Vader has a wider array of things to do, his front suplex on the rail was an especially nice touch, but he mostly uses typical low end offense like elbow drops, his punches, and the occasional splash. His only recognizable spot is his Vader bomb near fall, which isn’t really a big finisher for him. When Vader wants his powerbomb, Akiyama escapes and fires back, and the midsection work is forgotten about. Akiyama has no trouble firing away with his jumping knees and suplexes. Well, Akiyama does struggle a bit to hit the first Exploder, but it looks to be due to Vader’s size more than anything else. Jun certainly doesn’t do anything to give the impression that Vader’s earlier work was a factor in the struggle.

 

Again, the finish is easily the best thing here. Not only for bringing Vader’s arm back into focus, but for the overall rarity of a major NOAH match ending with a tap out. Vader wants the same chokeslam that beat Akiyama in the GHC Tag finals, and Akiyama counters him into an armbar. Vader gets the ropes and goes back to his punches, but Akiyama ducks and hooks Vader for the Exploder. Instead of the suplex, Akiyama does a back heel trip and locks in a juji-gatame and gets a submission. The differences between Kobashi and Akiyama as company top guys are fully on display. Had this been Kobashi defending against Vader, he would likely have taken everything that Vader could dish out and then made his big ‘fighting spirit’ comeback to put him away with the lariat. Instead of showing off his toughness, Akiyama showed his craftiness by learning from his prior loss and outsmarting Vader in order to beat him. The thing that really holds the match back is that its overall shortness didn’t allow them to let the body part work play as much of a factor as it could have. They didn’t need to go upwards of thirty minutes, but an extra five or six would have allowed them some time to do more to put over the effects of having their respective areas targeted. Hell, even as it is, this still rates as one of the better title defenses that Akiyama had throughout all of his runs with the title. ***1/4

 

Conclusion: This isn’t anything great, but it’s a decently fun look at the early history of the various GHC Titles.