Rocky Mountain Thunder: Bigger Than Even He Thought He Was

Facebuster Nation: With a nod and chest bump to '80s schlock rockers Europe, it's the FINAL COUNTDOWN with regard to rasslin' matches involving Rocky Mountain Thunder...unless Rocky winds up making a triumphant return to professional rasslin' via TNA! as part of an invasion angle featuring the washed up has beens and never weres of the American Wrestling Association (like you wouldn't mark out at the site of Rocky kicking the crap out of Kevin Nash, Greg Gagne drop kicking Kurt Angle right in the mush, Jamin' Brian Kendrick taking on his mentor Shawn/Sean Michaels JAMIN' MAN MITCH SNOW, Scott Hall fighting himself, Larry Nelson barfing up about 16 cocktails and/or snorting cocaine on the lap of Mike Tenay, and the TNA roster recording an even catchier version of the Wrestle Rock Rumble).

That's right there are only two clips left in the Rocky Mountain Thunder vs. the either unsuspecting or masochistic jobbers of the AWA series that riveted the Showboat Sports Pavilion and kept the Las Vegas EMT's busy during the Spring and early Summer of 1988.



Make that one.

Rocky's opponent here is a fellow by the name of Hunter Thompson, an apropos moniker for a sad sack Las Vegas jobber. While the Gonzo Journalism popularized by Thompson (the author, not the ham 'n' egger) privileges style, panache, and immersion in the experience over accuracy, polish, and pragmatism, Rocky Mountain Thunder is wholly incapable of applying any of these concepts to his craft. See, for example, the monkey flip at the 1 minute 52 second mark.

Runner-up titles for this post include: (1) Rocky Mountain Thunder -- What a Delightful Man That Man Is -- Rocky Mountain Thunder; (2) Lee Marshall: Knows What (Hairy) Larry and The Graphic Said; (3) Rocky Mountain Thunder, Delightful Man? He Is Every Bit of That; (4) Here Comes Rocky Mountain Thunder: Look Out!!!; (5) Rocky Mountain Thunder: Candidate for the Championship of the World; and (6) I Don't Know What the Point of That Was.

Neither do we Rod Trongard.

Neither do we.