Ricky “The Dragon” Steamboat vs. “Macho Man” Randy Savage
WWE WrestleMania III
Pontiac, Michigan - The Pontiac Silverdome
March 29, 1987
93,173 (?) fans at the Pontiac Silverdome (courtesy of wwe.com)
Regardless of the rightful contempt you have for the Detroit Lions, Detroit is still a Great American Sports Town. We’re Hockeytown. We were the Bad Boys. The Tigers won the World Series in 1984 and then back in 1960something. Championships are long gone, not forthcoming, yet never forgotten. The fact that this city is deprived of excellence in the biggest American sport means we can only host Super Bowls, not play in them. Two have emanated here, in 1982 and 2006. They became part of our collective sports history. Stories are attached to their legacies, with half-interesting yarns told after two, too many Two Hearteds.
Which is probably why there’s such reverence for the WrestleMania’s held in Detroit, III in 1987 and 23 in 2007. And this, too, is also probably why we desperately cling onto kayfabe about that damned attendance record. We want it to be true that there really was 93,173 honest-to-God fans in the Pontiac Silverdome. Thinking it was anything less than that number, takes away some of WrestleMania III’s luster. When the Silverdome went from urban ruin to demolition, nostalgia pieces in our local media from credible sources cited that “indoor attendance world record” like it was gospel. WrestleMania III was held up in the same vanguard as if were on the scale of Super bowl XVI and that random time Pope John Paul II came here to hold mass.
I’ve been to the Pontiac Silverdome numerous times. Like most Americans, my memories of it in real life faded and what’s most vivid is from television. But a few moments are still clear: after a Lions loss when John Madden stiffed me for an autograph outside his Madden Cruiser; my high school marching band performing there for States, with me cutting promos in my mind that I got to ply my craft on the same stage as where Steamboat and Savage stole the show, all before immediately recognizing what I twat I was for making such a pretentious false equivalency; and finally, spending a few Sundays there working the popcorn stand, more than likely violating health code and food sanitation standards, where I’d cake on layers upon layers of this fake butter and salt concoction called Gold Dust that was probably made out of cyanide and crystalized Malort. Those stupid, insignificant memories are only tangible because they were at the same place as WrestleMania III, and even if what’s left of the Silverdome is vacant space (we’ll see if it actually does end up becoming an Amazon distribution center), WrestleMania III will always be our show, and the showstealer that helped keep it endearing over the years was Ricky “The Dragon” Steamboat winning the Intercontinental title over Randy “Macho Man” Savage.
We all remember the storyline going into this with Savage crushing Steamboat’s larynx (Vince, much like me, too fucking pretentious to say “throat”). What’s forgotten is how much Danny Davis played a part in Savage’s IC title run. Danny Davis was the crooked referee who didn’t notice Savage cheating to beat Tito Santana in early 1986. That fall, on Wrestling Challenge, Danny Davis intervened to protect Savage from losing to Billy Jack Haynes. Even more lost on me—which is insane given its an infamous match and angle shown on TV, but I never saw the match in full until writing this article—Danny Davis was all over Savage’s countout win over Savage. Davis tried to be the referee at the start of the match, and when Steamboat had a clear three count over Savage, Davis broke up the count and attempted to take over the officiating for the match in a wonderfully heel-ish move to prevent Steamboat wining the belt then. In the end, as you all recall, Savage dropped a double-axe handle from the the top rope to the outside with Steamboat’s head draped over the guardrail, crushing his larynx. Steamboat still being a threat to Savage, and being pissed that the Dragon got close to taking his belt away, tried to end his career by coming off the top rope with the ringside timekeeper’s bell to Steamboat’s already damaged throat. Steamboat was out of the ring for months. What’s also probably forgotten by time, were the hilariously cheeseball vignettes of Steamboat in-session with a speech-language pathologist making woefully cornball vowel-y barks as he tried to relearn how to talk. Check those out on old episodes of Prime Time on Peacock if you’re so inclined.
Savage and Elizabeth (courtesy of WWE.com)
To the match itself. If you love this match like I do, you know the lore, and you know from the dozens of retrospectives on the WWE Network how Savage compulsively wrote out every flinch in this match to ensure they would steal the show at Mania. Both men knew that Hulk Hogan vs. Andre the Giant was the draw, but they made it a mission to be what everyone remembered. Savage would quiz Steamboat over the phone by calling out a number for a spot, and insist that Steamboat recite what followed. The two had a non-televised house show circuit to practice spots and sequences, testing the crowd for maximum impact. Some will say this killed the match, and when ranking it against other 5 star WrestleMania matches, this is typically given as a justification to rank Bret vs. Austin or Taker vs. Shawn over it.
George “The Animal” Steele was in Steamboat’s corner. Steele was not only a Detroiter but had a lengthly feud with Savage where he was always abused by the Macho Man. In a pre- #MeToo era, it was perfectly wholesome for The Animal to obsessively stalk Elizabeth, rub himself on dolls and posters of her likeness, and even kidnap her as a means of showing affection. Savage began the match by moving Liz away from Steele and positioning her away from George in a different corner to fret.
Steamboat started the first act of the match by working on the arm. Steamboat was always known for having the best short arm drags in the business and never did they look shaper, tighter, or cleaner with Savage bumping at high speed for him. Savage got leverage by throwing Steamboat over the top rope. Savage wouldn’t let Steamboat back into the ring with kicks to the outside. The story of the match, to me at least, seemed to suggest Savage being so reliant on saving his title by countouts and disqualifications throughout his title run, that he knew he would be outmatched if he had to actually wrestle Steamboat based on their previous match in ’86. Savage then got desperate and went to the throat with a standing, short elbow smash. It’s significant to note that was the first and only time he went after it in the body of the match. Steamboat sold it in this instance, but he didn’t sell it throughout the match. The whole targeting of the throat is another factor for some in disqualifying this match as the greatest of all time. You would think with that being the storyline going into it, it would be targeted again by Savage or Steamboat would violently get his revenge by going after Randy’s. I defend it by Steamboat knowing he would win if he made it a wrestling match, not a violent brawl.
Savage in the ropes (courtesy of WWE.com)
The two exchanged near falls on shoulder tackles. Each kickout was right before referee Hebner hit the mat for 3, something both men had discussed in hindsight that if they were too slow to lift a shoulder Hebner should count them out. The near-falls in this match were numerous, doubling as successive false-finishes, and also to demonstrate how even both men were physically.
The end of the first act was Savage getting Steamboat outside of the ring, and hitting Steamboat from behind with a running knee that bulldozed Steamboat over the timekeeper’s table and the guardrail to the floor of the Silverdome. Savage hit an axe handle from the outside of the ring, but not with his head over the guardrail as he had in their previous encounter.
Thus began the second act of the match with a flurry of offense by Savage. The Macho Man tried elbows, clotheslines and suplexes, only getting 2’s. Steamboat backdropped a full-sprinting Savage to the outside to turn the tide and get revenge for all the attempts to take things outside earlier in the bout by Savage.
Steamboat got a massive response for a false finish after a chop from the top rope. Watching so many people in the stands stand up, thinking it was over, creating a riptide effect on the crowd was a great visual and part of the fun of seeing this match in the then largest stadium in the NFL. The Dragon then had his run of pinfall attempts with chops and sunset flips. Steamboat got another big false finish pop on a small package that again got Pontiac to stand in waves. The end of the second act concluded with a run of close pinfall attempts with roll-ups, and then Savage sent Steamboat to the post.
Savage hit one of the most perfectly captured flying elbow drops from the top rope, but in an ironic, reversal of fortune, now the referee was knocked out from incidental contact. Seething, Savage went outside for the timekeeper’s bell to waffle Steamboat again with it. George Steele tried to stop him, but Savage booted Steele, assuming he was taken out. Steele recuperated in time to knock Savage off the top rope and get his ultimate revenge from the previous year’s torture. Savage had the timekeeper bell in hand, attempting to maim Steamboat (for those who criticize this match for Savage not going after the throat, this was the moment Savage in-character was waiting for), but the Macho Man fell awkwardly to the mat and landed with the bell scraping his lower back. Savage thought he had Steamboat still incapacitated, but Steamboat was able to cradle him out of nowhere to get the pin and the Intercontinental title.
It was a perfect ending to arguably the most perfect matchup of all time. There was no wasted motion. It was a 30 minute epic in a 15 minute dash, yet the runtime never sacrificed the storytelling. It was Steamboat’s crowning achievement in WWE. He ended up dropping the belt to The Honky Tony Man to start a family that June. Randy Savage ending up earning the spot behind Hogan and got a year-long title run in 1988 by virtue of Hogan fucking off to shoot his first of what would end up being many starring roles in box office poison.
Before Shawn Michaels called himself, “Mr. WrestleMania,” I’m in the camp that the Mr. WrestleMania moniker should have only been reserved for Randy Savage. This loss and embarrassment set up the motivation for him to win the WWE title at WrestleMania IV, thus creating the MegaPowers so they would break-up at V, and Savage would flounder and “lose” his career to The Ultimate Warrior at VII but win back Elizabeth, who would be the catalyst for him to recapture the WWE title at VIII. It’s the richest storyline arch over multiple WrestleManias, and it never would have happened had Savage not had this match, and the months of neurosis to make this moment his legacy.
George Steele celebrates with The Dragon (courtesy of wwe.com)
