Facebuster Nation - I realize that every single one of you are trying to expunge any and all memories of that whole Hulk Hogan and his posse of loud neon, spandex, tassel, and face paint/glitter adorned babyfaces versus Kevin Sullivan and his woefully inept Dungeon of Doom epoch in WCW, circa 1995/1996.
On that stain Hogan's side, you had Savage, Sting, Luger (until he joined forces with the Dungeon), The Booty Man (before he became the Zodiac...or did that incarnation of Ed Leslie come after he was future endeavored by the Dungeon for acute insubordination?!?), and a monster truck of virtue and munificence. On the other, you had Sullivan, long-time Hogan pole smoker and tea bagger Jimmy "Mouth of the South" Hart, The Big Shew, a roving band of cartoonish characters (i.e. Kamala, Shark, the aforementioned Zodiac/Booty Man), assorted interested parties (aka Ric Flair and Arn Anderson who got roped into this exercise in absurdity for reasons that I can't be bothered and care not to remember), a monster truck of vice and ill-temper, and a series of super villains like The Mummy, Loch Ness, Z Gangsa (Zeus), and The Final/Ultimate Solution.
*This clip is worth sitting through just to hear Eric Bischoff, in his terrible attempt at wrestling announcing and in his hysterical shilling for the following week's Pay Per View Uncensored, utter this line: "Uncensored. One word comes to mind. Un...censored." Fucking genius.
Ah, The Ultimate Solution. Or if you prefer, Jeep Swenson, as he was known in the Dallas based World Class Championship Wrestling promotion. Much like The Warlord, Jeep had a larger than life build, but could really stink up a wrestling ring with his lumbering incompetence. In terms of historical consequence and significance, and comparative equivalency, I would categorize him as a Rocky Mountain Thunder for the black beret and tight camouflaged shirt wearing, right wing militia sympathizing set.
But don't take my word for it. Judge for yrselves simply by viewing the clip below featuring mercenary for hire Jeep, accompanied to the ring by the sinister, overdressed, and eminently quotable Gary Hart, in action against a couple of jobbers named Jeff Raitz and Dusty Wolfe, both of whom look like they know their way around a gay porn set. Devout Christian Mark Lowrance announces the participants and rules of the contest with his trademark lyrical quality while Bill Mercer is assigned the unenviable task of putting over Jeep as competitor to reckon with and getting over his finishing right hand whereby he punches the knuckles on his left hand and the hair of his opponent as the most devastating and debilitating move in the World Class territory...if not in all of professional rasslin'.
I will concede that this match is painful to endure even in spite of its pithy duration. With that said, I could listen to Bill Mercer compare Jeep's taut looking and diffidently delivered offense to sticks of dynamite and sycamore limbs and all day. He has/had such an incredible voice for rasslin'.
Robert "Jeep" Swenson passed away in 1997 due to heart failure. A few more details about the man can be gleamed here.
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Imagine the success that the Truth Commission could have had in the WWF, had been able to recruit Jeep Swenson into their ranks... I'm talking Los Boricuas big!
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