Back in the day Marvel Comics used to have the No Prize. Whenever a reader discovered a continuity error, a glaring plot hole, or an editing mistake (such as hair, skin or clothing being inked a different color in a frame) they had a chance to write in and explain how such a thing could make sense after all. If it worked for the powers that be (or should that say powers that were?) they were awarded a No Prize. Whatever a No Prize contained was kept secret although I'm sure the facts are available these days.I'm going to attempt to earn my own version of the Wrestling equivalent for a No Prize. Wrestling fans are aware of the existence of Finishing Moves. These are maneuvers or holds which a superstar has perfected and which means victory whenever it's used. The problem with the believability for the average fan comes with the inconsistency for which moves have a devastating effect.
One example is the DDT, first used by Jake "The Snake" Roberts in the early 80s. Facing his opponent Jake would grab him around the back of his neck, bending him forward. Jake would then drop himself to the ground, simultaneously pounding his opposite arm across his opponent's neck, driving him facefirst into the floor. The damage was twofold. The act of having one's face (or sometimes the top of his head, depending on momentum) quickly and forcibly driven into the canvas by a man who weighed over 200 pounds was enough to knock him out. On top of that, the fact that the maneuver was performed using the poor sap's neck meant severe damage was often done there. No one ever got up when Roberts performed the DDT. Named after the pesticide that was so damaging it was banned in America in the early 70s, Jake's answer to what DDT stood for was chilling: The End.
These days a DDT is a standard midmatch move where the victim often bounces back into action seconds later. Even women can be immune to its severity in their matches.
When one thinks of the most devastating finishing move ever used in Professional Wrestling the answer most would put at the top of their list would be the Piledriver. Quite simply the victim is held upside-down (facing his opponent or away) and dropped on his head. His entire weight, often in excess of 200 pounds, lands on the top of his head, compressing the vertebrae in his neck and back. Usually a victim is knocked unconscious (the blood rushing to the head prior to the drop doesn't help.) The compression of the spine can cause a stinger (temporary paralysis sometimes experienced by football players) and in the most severe cases necks can be broken.
In the old days Piledrivers were illegal in many territories. Since wrestlers and promoters of the day insisted that what they were doing wasn't fake they were subjected to whichever Athletic Commission they were under. Therefore it was often performed behind a referee's back, or used when the perpetrator didn't mind being disqualified and just wanted to hurt his opponent.
In Memphis especially the Piledriver could mean the end of one's career. A victim in Memphis usually had to be taken out on a stretcher. Andy Kaufman spent three days in a hospital after his famous incident with Jerry "The King" Lawler. (This incident, one which kept alive the possibility that all this "was real", is now known to have been part of the game all along. It's reported that Kaufman legitimately had soreness in his neck muscles, possibly a strain or sprain, but it should be noted that every wrestler suffers bumps, bruises, cuts, strains and sprains (and sometimes even fractures) on a nightly basis without even taking the next night off, let alone spending time in a hospital.)
These days a piledriver doesn't necessarily spell the end of a match. The two factors I'm going to attempt my No Prize on is the fact that oftentimes the camera angle shows the head clearly not touching the ground during the drop, and the other one concerns incidents where the victim immediately jumps right back up as if nothing happened.
My answer is Psychology. Let's say a wrestler really experienced a piledriver once. They would probably be shaken about it afterwards. Outside the ring they might brood on how quickly they could have lost it all, reflect on their mortality and all that. From that point on, if they ever were put through the motion but escaped making contact (due to a sloppy performance by the perpetrator, of course) they might decide to call it quits for the night before it happens for real.
Something could possibly be said about being jostled with a head full of blood leaving one momentarily dazed. Yeah, something could possibly be said. It's been said. That must be what happened to Pete Rose at Wrestlemania XIV in Boston. As a guest celebrity he was invited to introduce the match between The Undertaker and Kane. With the WWF Attitude starting to come to fruition, and Mike Tyson playing that to the hilt by implying he was going to be a crooked referee in the main event, someone (possibly Jerry Lawler) prepped Pete into cutting a promo on the audience. Pete had a great time insulting the Red Sox and telling off Boston. He was interrupted by Kane's entrance. Kane was still brand new at the time and considered the most dangerous monster in the company. He didn't talk, he wore a mask (which at the time we thought hid horrendous burn scars) and he had neither compassion or emotion. He was a machine, The Big Red Machine, which made it fitting for him to do what he did in Boston. Without saying a word Kane grabbed Pete Rose by the throat, hoisted him into position and dropped to the ground. Clearly Pete's head missed the bottom by a couple inches yet he was unconscious and taken out on a stretcher. But watch closely how Pete was removed. EMTs didn't work on him, nobody placed a halo round his neck. He was rolled out onto the stretcher and was taken out while he lay on his side with his ass up high. Clearly the officials knew he hadn't made contact, knew he wasn't severely hurt. Perhaps Kane's knees squeezed Pete's head tight while he was upside-down. Perhaps Pete, being a celebrity and not expecting to be assaulted, passed out from fright. Perhaps he was playing possum, hoping he'd be left alone if they thought he was dead.
It is easy to believe now how some wrestlers can jump right up after a piledriver. Others might say that they were muscle-heads, or that the steroids they take have strengthened their necks. I say that those who bounce up are either solid in their mental constitution or crazy and as such not affected psychologically by the certain knowledge of what would have happened had they hit. Perhaps many perpetrators intentionally leave some space between the mat and the head since, though wanting to beat their opponent and possibly even hurt him, they don't want to risk injury or death. If everyone always "pulled their punch" when delivering a piledriver then eventually all would get over the fear and never stay down. But contact happens. At SummerSlam '97 Owen Hart held Steve Austin's head too far down between his legs when going for a piledriver. Austin suffered temporary paralysis, was out of action for months, and had his ringstyle altered forever. The injury has nagged at him ever since and he was forced to retire after Wrestlemania XIX in Seattle. A more permanent example is Darren Drozdov. A former football player, he came into the WWF and was a member of the Legion of Doom. He hadn't been in long, barely around two years, when a horrible accident happened. D'Lo Brown was going to perform an alternate driver move (for clarification any maneuver that results in a person landing on their head is a driver) when his legs slipped out from under him. Drozdov broke his neck and is a quadriplegic today. This accident happened just a few months after Owen Hart died at Kemper Arena when a stunt went wrong.
This answer of psychology being the reason a piledriver might end a match could be applied to Jake's DDT and many other moves. It would explain why sometimes it spells the end, and other times someone is able to reach down within themselves and find what it takes to continue.
So do I get a No Prize?
