DVDVR Puerto Rico 80s Set: Invader I vs. Ron Starr (9/19/86)

Disc 3, Match 3: Invader I vs. Ron Starr (9/19/86)

I want to cover two things straight from the start. First, there's a moment shortly before the comeback where Invader I makes a hope spot out of standing up outside of the ring and staggering around. Then he cuts himself off by falling into chairs. The crowd reacts towards that the same way a southern crowd would to Ricky Morton punching back and his opponent cheating to cut him off. Just stop and think about that. When have you ever seen that before? Some of it was the nature of Puerto Rico brawls where guys fight back to their feet and storm the ring to come back, but so much of it was just Invader's selling, his connection to the crowd, Starr's dickishness and the timing of it all. I can't think of a single wrestler today who would even think to attempt such a thing. Yet it worked like it was the easiest thing in the world. You watch this and you think to yourself "This is how wrestling is supposed to be." It created belief through performance alone.

Then look at his comeback. Yes, Invader struggling to get up and back into the ring was part of it. Then, when he finally made it back in, he didn't just start firing back. He had to earn it through a series of cut offs, through taking shots and exhaustedly bouncing back against the ropes to fire back. This wasn't some sort of cutesy rebound lariat thing or eating a big boot and no-selling it with the help of the ropes to show fighting spirit. This was desperation and exhaustion, his body almost out of his own control. Through actually selling and giving meaning to the beating he was taking, he came off as many degrees tougher than the Japanese or indy guys who just eat stiff shots and fire back as if nothing was happening. Look at how exhausted he seemed. Look at how beaten down he was. Look at the damage he was taking. But he still somehow willed his body to get that punch in. Again, it's everything wrestling should be and so much of what's been lost.

Here's a third thing, the finishing sequence. It somehow built without ever really escalating and that's so refreshing. There's never a sense of complex reversals or multiple finishers and kickouts. Instead, it's two guys who have been through a war, a series of wars, a lifetime of wars, just trying to keep some sort of advantage and do anything at all that works. They're just trying to stay in it. Moreover, they're working the slight Starr advantage based on the whole of the match. He's the one who hit the back suplex. He's the one who is able to get more jabs in, even if Invader's comeback shots are bigger and bolder. That all plays into the clean finish (even if the transition was anything but clean). Invader isn't diminished at all. Starr looks all the more formidable.

Some of that was the transition. It was the debut of the valet. She had a chair. This was after a first act where Invader had Starr's number, where Starr would give it his best, either with underhanded sneaking knees, or by going over the top with a 1986 STO, but Invader was just too good, always able to turn the situation to his advantage. By setting the stage so clearly and cleanly, they ramped up the heat and fury of the crowd with the great wooden equalizer and allowed for everything that came after.

I can't understate how hugely special this sort of wrestling was. We'll never see its like again.