Revisiting The First Hell In A Cell Match, 27 Years Later
What was happening at the top of the World Wrestling Federation in August 1997?
Well, The Undertaker is the WWF Champion, in a tense feud with Bret Hart. Shawn Michaels is also feuding with Bret Hart. Unbeknownst to Undertaker, Shawn has a vendetta against him, too.
The issue Michaels has with Undertaker isn’t necessarily with him as champion, though he would like his title back. Rather, his issue is with Hart even having another championship match.
Bret Hart and Undertaker were set to settle their differences at SummerSlam. Michaels was named the match’s special guest referee. The stipulation: if Bret lost, he could never wrestle in the United States again. As Hart’s contract status became more of a question among dirt sheet writers and readers than it had ever been in the past, there was some interest in the result of the match, as there was at least the potential for it to be his last WWF match before resurfacing elsewhere some time after.
After Hart spat in Shawn Michaels’ face, Michaels decided enough was enough. He was going to take the conveniently placed steel chair and hit Hart with it. Hopefully, it would be enough to end the match. Instead, Hart ducked, and The Undertaker got hit in the head, incapacitating him long enough for Michaels, the “impartial” referee, to count the pin. Hart became the WWF Champion for the last time, before an errant kick sent him into an early retirement three years later.
A month later, at Ground Zero: In Your House, Michaels and Undertaker fought to a no contest in a bout to determine who would be the number-one contender to Bret Hart’s championship. Because there was not a definitive winner, the two would clash once again, this time in a brand-new stipulation: Hell In A Cell. A 16-foot tall, two ton cage with a roof. It was a much more brutal twist on the classic steel cage stipulation that fans grew to know and love over the years, and it looked every bit as menacing as one would expect. The match would take place at Badd Blood, on October 5, 1997. An appropriately scary stipulation for Halloween month.
Prior to the match, Shawn Michaels delivers a promo that essentially amounts to “I’m the best wrestler alive, why would I be afraid of Hell In A Cell?” It’s the type of smarmy heel work, complete with Triple H, Chyna, and Rick Rude flanking him looking as smug as ever, that I wish we got more of when he began his second run in 2002. He enters the arena with the typical Michaels bravado, though his mannerisms indicate he feels much more threatened than his backstage bluster suggests. Undertaker follows as the Cell lowers around Michaels. I’ve been up and down on Undertaker’s work over the years, but I am not sure there are many WWE wrestlers who’ve ever felt cooler than he did in 1997. As Michaels realizes that he’s locked in a massive cage with a “final boss”-level wrestler, the mask falls off completely, and his bluster gives way to fear. The bell rings as Michaels attempts to slink away, thus beginning the first-ever Hell In A Cell match.
In all their clashes over the years, Shawn Michaels and The Undertaker never deviated from the David vs. Goliath formula. It was a proven winner for the two, as Undertaker (at his best) was an uber-athletic big man who had no business being as precise in his movement as he was. Michaels was the best wrestler in the United States (sorry, Bret Hart fans) and had he stayed retired after WrestleMania 14, would still be held in the same regard as other all-time greats. Undertaker beats Michaels from pillar to post, taking his time so that Michaels feels every move. He tries to make an early comeback, but Undertaker has him beat at every turn.
Undertaker throws Michaels over the top rope, taking the match to the outside, where, in his infinite wisdom, Michaels attempts to leave the match by… climbing away. It’s a rare tactical error for Michaels. He does a fantastic job of selling how frazzled he is throughout the match by making decisions he otherwise would not make if he was as collected as he’s been in the past. He briefly gets it together when he forces Undertaker to miss a lariat that sends him into the cage, and then he takes the advantage. The next time he climbs the inside of the cage is not in an attempt to run away. Instead, he hits an elbow drop, which is quite impressive considering how much space outside of the ring they don’t have. “Michaels has gotta do what he’s gotta do to survive!” Jim Ross says after Michaels hits Undertaker with a chair to the back. He certainly does.
After both guys have their control segments, the match becomes a lot more even. When it becomes a more even affair, it goes from a strong start to an all-time great wrestling match. More specifically, the moment that brings the match to that level is when Undertaker throws Michaels over the top rope and Michaels lands on the cameraman. There’s so little space between the Cell and the ring that the cameraman’s very existence bothers him, and he attacks the cameraman.
The cameraman needed medical attention, and both Jim Ross and Vince McMahon do an excellent job of painting Michaels as a scumbag after his assault. “That man has a family,” McMahon says. “That man’s not an athlete, he’s not trained,” Ross responds shortly after. Their energy makes it feel like Michaels committed murder, and those two in particular are great on the call all night. If Vince McMahon was a well-adjusted individual, he could’ve had a nice, decades-long commentary career in addition to his ownership of the WWF. “There’s gonna be a lawsuit here,” Ross quips after Michaels finishes brutalizing the cameraman.
Of course, the cameraman’s need for medical attention is what triggers the opening of the Cell door, as WWF Commissioner Sgt. Slaughter re-enters the arena to open the cage and help move him away from the carnage. Michaels hits the Sweet Chin Music, and Undertaker no-sells it. Seeing the opening, Michaels leaves the cage, and in true wrestling fashion, a match that is only supposed to take place in a cage is now happening outside of the cage. It is during this exchange on the outside where we get the first iconic Hell In A Cell moment.
The two of them climb to the top of the Cell. Michaels, who is a mess at this point, bleeds on the camera directly below him. He tries to run away by climbing down the other side of the cage. Undertaker steps on his hand, leading to Michaels falling from about 12 feet up through the announce table. It’s a visually stunning moment, something that had never happened in the WWF before. It is also a moment that WWE would probably reference more today if Mankind didn’t try to die the next time they utilized this stipulation.
In the months that preceded Badd Blood, the WWF had been planting the seeds for a debuting wrestler. At In Your House: Revenge of The Taker, Undertaker threw a fireball at Paul Bearer, his former longtime manager. Bearer likened the fireball to the fire that Undertaker started as a child, which killed his parents and left his half-brother Kane permanently disfigured. At Badd Blood, it was time for Kane.
Undertaker finally has Shawn Michaels dead to rights, after Undertaker gets payback for the SummerSlam chair shot by hitting one of his own. He does his signature taunt, signaling for the end of the match. The lights go down, and an organ begins to play, before Paul Bearer emerges through red light with a masked man who is somehow as physically imposing as The Undertaker. “That’s gotta be Kane! That’s gotta be Kane,” McMahon yells in what has become an iconic call, though the initial impact is lessened because he says it twice more in the minute that follows.
Kane rips the Cell door off its hinges, and comes face to face with Undertaker. For someone who was instructed for much of the first seven years of his WWE career to not sell, Undertaker does an admirable job of conveying surprise. He looks like he’s seen a ghost, and when Kane does his taunt that triggers fire from the ring posts, Undertaker looks as shell shocked as Michaels did at the beginning of the match.
Kane effortlessly picks up Undertaker for the Tombstone, spins around because he can’t find the hard cam (the broadcast opts for a shot from one of the ringside cameramen), and then plants him. Because of the events that transpired, we’ve all but forgotten that Michaels is Undertaker’s actual opponent in this match. He slithers over, a bloodied, disheveled heap, and pins Undertaker with one arm draped over his chest. Thus ending the first ever Hell In A Cell match.
Since Badd Blood 1997, WWE have had 51 more Hell In A Cell matches. Some of them are great. Undertaker and Mankind have one at King of the Ring 1998, and it is full of the most sickening moves ever taken in one of these matches (Foley infamously gets thrown off the top of the Cell and slammed through the Cell, the latter of which was unintentional). Triple H’s best match ever takes place in Hell In A Cell, once again opposite Mick Foley. And who could forget the Armageddon six-man and End of an Era? Some of them are bad. Triple H and Shawn Michaels have a 48-minute slog at Bad Blood 2004 that is so excruciating, Bad Blood as a pay-per-view is done away with for two decades. And the less said about the CM Punk and Ryback matches, the better.
Across 52 matches, Undertaker and Shawn Michaels’ encounter on October 5, 1997 remains the stipulation’s gold standard. It was expertly crafted and a match with a level of violence that we’d never quite seen from the typically sanitized World Wrestling Federation. It’s also an effective storytelling device, directly causing one of the greatest debuts in company history.
Michaels and Undertaker’s feud took a backseat to Undertaker’s story with Kane, though the pair had one more high-profile affair at the 1998 Royal Rumble (which was the site of the match that eventually led to Michaels retiring for four years). As the saying goes, you never forget your first. While there are Hell In A Cell matches that have had more big “moments,” I have a hard time thinking that there’s one of these that’s truly better than what these two did on that night in St. Louis.