She Said She's Going Back to Mid-South; New York is Way too Cold

Dick Murdoch v Butch Reed (10/14/85)

I wish we had a thousand versions of this match-up, or at least a baker's dozen. We have two hundred Flair/Kerry matches, even a mere REGULAR dozen of Murdoch/Reed shouldn't be too much to ask for. The September match might be the best US match of the decade and I thought that the first time I saw it thirteen years ago, but I remembered a whole lot less about this one other than it going over half an hour. I think it's a step down from September, but not by a lot and of course it ruled like fuck. It was also very different from the first match, when they quite easily could've worked the same contest with a rejigged finish. The first fifteen minutes are for Reed's TV title while anything after that is for Murdoch's North American belt, which is a cool sort of wrinkle. TV title or not, those first 15 minutes were pretty much a masterclass in building to a punch. Not a big highspot, no piledriver, no brainbuster, just a punch. They're still face v face so work clean early, even if you know Murdoch is the most likely to drag things off the rails if it comes to it (like the September match). Reed works the arm and it's decent enough, plus Murdoch is always interesting working from below. They half tease things breaking down, both of them looking like they're about to throw a fist at one or two points, but it never comes to that and they do in fact keep it clean. Reed just keeps grinding him down with the hammerlock and armbar and Murdoch is frustrated, then we get the first moment of chicanery from Murdoch as he backs Reed into the corner, waits for the ref' to try and break them up, and shoves him away so he can throw a forearm that, while legal in and of itself, was at the very least unsporting. I like that Reed under most circumstances would've retaliated, but here seemed intent on seeing out that first fifteen minutes to make sure the TV title was safe. So he keeps himself in check and goes back to the arm despite Murdoch getting more surly, even resorting to throwing VERY questionable pot shots from the headlock. When the fifteen minutes are up Reed's title is safe and Murdoch is clearly annoyed, but now it's all about the North American title. And Reed hasn't forgotten about those little pot shots or that sneaky forearm. They both hit the ropes, Murdoch clears Reed with a leapfrog, then upon landing turns around into an absolute bastard of a haymaker. They'd built that one shot up from the start, feeding the crowd opportunities for Reed to take it earlier but holding back, Murdoch going from obviously legal elbows to questionable forearms to sly rabbit punches. The crowd knew it was coming at some point, and when it connected it resonated perfectly. Murdoch sold it like it took the whole jaw off him as well, losing a giant wad of spit or maybe a row of teeth before falling through the ropes and stumbling around on the floor. It was one punch but it felt like a blast from a cannon. The second half is tremendous; really just a brilliant fifteen minutes of duelling limb work, starting with Murdoch going after Reed's leg. He throws some of the best stomps ever, right to the kneecap, the side of the knee, the back of it, then pretty much everywhere else on Reed's head and body. That has him on top for a while until Reed goes back to the arm from earlier, which sets up a finishing run of both picking apart a limb. The way they sold exhaustion along with the body part damage down the stretch is some of the best you'll see. I also like how this never degenerated into a brawl like the September match did. It never turned into a fist fight and, barring Murdoch repaying Reed with a carbon copy haymaker of his own, I can't even remember any instances of them punching each other in the back half of the match. Reed's lightning bolt right at the midpoint suggested it would go that route, but it largely stayed on the straight and narrow. Good first half, exceptional second half, and Reed hoisting the belt up in the air at the end while all the black kids in attendance rush to the front row was fucking biblical. That's yer pro wrestling right there. 

Mid-South Project