Gimmick Some (Wrestlemania) Lovin': The Blue Bars of Doom

The Match

This image is considered iconic, but the match much less so.

There are two ways to think about this match, both equally valid: the modern context and the context in which it was presented (WWF's 1986 Rock 'N Wrestling boom and the meteoric rise of Hulkamania).

First, the modern: this match is dull. Dreadfully dull. Painfully dull. You could count all of the non-strike-based wrestling maneuvers in this match on one hand and still have fingers left over to let Hulk know what you think of his verbiage on that Gawker tape. It's a lot of punchy-kicky-clothesliney nonsense that doesn't have much internal consistency, especially compared to the NWA's traditional "work a body part" psychology.

Pictured: roughly 1/3 of the actual wrestling moves in this entire match.

Hogan enters by climbing over, and immediately takes control with a series of punches, kicks, clotheslines, and shots to the bars (where it's often difficult to tell if Bundy countered or not; the selling is very broad and the hits go very wide). Bundy uses Hogan's injured midsection to take over, and works the ribs for a long time after removing the seemingly-magical ACE Bandage covering the Hulkaribs.

Hogan regains the advantage by sending Bundy into the cage yet again, and the camera lingers on a very-obviously-blading Bundy receiving something from Heenan and working his own forehead. Sure enough, a trickle of blood has started when Bundy gets back up.

Hogan attempts a slam, to no avail, in a series of spots that would be duplicated step-by-step a year later, and Bundy manages to take control with the Avalanche and Big Splash, but Hogan blocks his escape.

Hogan then enters the mystical state of Hulkamania, hulking in a noticeably upward direction (although the exact choreography of "hulking up" was a few years away); he no-sells a series of Bundy attacks, including the allegedy-lethal Avalanche and hard shots to his shattered ribs before finally nailing the bodyslam and hitting the Atomic Leg Drop.

Hogan climbs for the win, but Bundy miraculously recovers long enough to be kicked back down off the top rope; Hogan goes for the top again while Bundy attempts some drama by going for the door, but is a good five feet away from even touching the door when Hogan drops down to the arena floor. As Bundy collapses at ringside, confused by the sight of his own blood, Hogan celebrates by chasing Heenan into the cage so the Hulkster can assault a man roughly one-half to one-third his own size.

Because he's the babyface, you see. This is what good guys do, right?

In the modern context, it's sloppy, overly broad nonsense, but that's watching the match in a 2018 where men like AJ Styles, Seth Rollins, and even Roman Reigns push workrate into new directions constantly, and each show strives to provide several solid "OMG!" moments, especially in matches such as this one.

Think about watching this one in 1986, though (although, if this writer were to watch this match in 1986, his eleven month-old mind would just be happy to see so many bright and shiny colors). Listen to the crowd respond to Hogan, and understand how this match is a perfect example of the WWF's style in 1986.

The crowd is absolutely LIT here; think Austin glass breaking pop multiplied by People's Elbow cheers.

Hogan requires an entourage of security guards just to make it to the ring, and the Los Angeles crowd absolutely explodes when he does. They're totally abuzz during Hulk's opening offensive flurry, and Bundy's crimson mask sends them into a frenzy, topped only by the post-match beating delivered to The Brain. Paying attention to that crowd, rather than the abysmal commentary (more on that later), this match becomes something special, a perfect picture of what worked for WWF crowds at the dawn of the pay-per-view era.