Idiot Wind, Blowing Every Time You Move Your Mouth, Blowing Down the Backroads Headin' to Mid-South

The Fantastics v Dr. Death & Jake Roberts (4/14/85)

Man, Roberts was such an awesome scumbag in this. Right at the start he's slinking around the ring on his knees as the Fantastics go around ringside kissing fans, and it looks like he kind of intimates that he's going to skullfuck Tommy Rogers. He's a guy that always adds a bunch of great little touches to his matches, and his taunting of Rogers throughout the whole match (especially when Fulton is in playing FIP) rules. And on that note, this is about as good as I've ever seen Bobby Fulton look as a face in peril. I usually come down with a dose of the sadface whenever I'm watching a Fantastics match and Tommy Rogers ends up on apron duty, because Tommy Rogers is a fucking amazing FIP and "playing Tommy Rogers" should totally be as prominent a phrase in smark lingo as "playing Ricky Morton," but Fulton nailed it here. Nifty hope spots (there's one bit where he's trying to get to the corner and Jake keeps pulling him back by the trunks, and the women in the crowd triple the decibel level when they see Bobby Fulton's bare ass), always trying to fight back (but not excessively so to the point where the heels can't really string anything together long enough to get the heat right up there, which is something Fulton would do from time to time), and bumping around like you want out of someone playing Tommy Rogers (this needs to be a thing). Doc is more pinbally than steamrollery here, but he'll still pick a guy up and chuck him around, so I can't complain. Finish is boss. Rogers comes in off the hot tag and shit gets crazy, and as the ref' is trying to get Fulton out of the ring Rogers rolls up Doc, so Jake sneaks in fucking kills him with the DDT. Rogers kind of spasms after it like it broke his neck and spine and sternum. This was badass.


Mid-South Project