8 Times Wrestlers Who Wanted To Quit Were Given Championships

On this past week's episode of Monday Night Raw, The Revival proved nominative determinism is for real, as they finally claimed the red brand's tag-team straps for the first time. After years spent wasting away on the main roster undercard following their stellar NXT stint and subsequent, supremely-earned call-up, at long last Dash and Dawson have been restored to a position more befitting their considerable tag-team talents.

Just weeks before their Raw renaissance, the pair had three-and-three-quarters of their feet out the door. It's absolutely no coincidence that after collectively requesting a pass out purgatory, they find gold burdening their waists.

Knowing full well that an embittered, excellent Revival, buoyed by the support of similarly indignant fans, would waltz into AEW and immediately legitimise the company's proposed tag-team revival, WWE have pulled out one last act of desperation to keep the pair onside. As good as The Revival are, their push doesn't reflect what is obviously placation.

Traditionally, wrestling companies call the excavators on wantaway superstars, with the purpose of reducing their transferable value. But sometimes that value is so high, promoters have went entirely the other way as one last bid to slam shut the exit door.

It doesn't usually work.

With WCW in a complete tailspin at the turn of the millennium, largely thanks to the disastrous direction of proclaimed genius but apparent charlatan Vince Russo, a tether deficient Bill Busch decided it was time for action. The Executive VP sent the motor-mouthed New Yorker effing and jeffing back to Long Island, replacing him with a crack booking team headed by Kevin Sullivan.

The company's talent - at least, what was left of it - did not meet the news with universal approval. Legitimately concerned their spots would now be imperilled and the old old guard ushered back in, several immediately handed in their notices.

Sullivan, desperate to retain his most promising stars as WCW swirled ever closer to the drain, made promises to all the would-be departees. Chris Benoit, his most valuable asset, was his hardest sell. The pair had residual bad blood following Benoit's affair with Sullivan's wife Nancy years earlier, and the new booker knew he'd have to take a drastic measure to assuage the Canadian's reservations.

At Souled Out 2000, Sullivan slapped the vacant WCW World Heavyweight Championship on The Crippler, supposedly as a way to merit years of hard work and not as a bargaining chip. Either way, it didn't work: Benoit walked from the company the very next day, taking his Radicalz pals with him.