10 Genius Ways Wrestling Companies Kept You Watching

2. The Winning Streak

Goldberg almost literally exploded on the WCW scene in 1997 by blitzing through countless jobbers - WCW lost count, so that's no exaggeration - to get over as an emerging superstar.

Goldberg was an electrifying presence unto himself. He was ripped to absolute f*ck, radiated a dumb jock energy legitimised by his career as an NFL defensive tackle, and worked a style, not that you could even label it as such, removed entirely from the traditional understanding of what a professional wrestler was. He tore poor c*nts in half with a pioneering spear from which there was no escape. What a visceral thrill that move evoked: it reduced us all to our depraved, bloodthirsty id.

But he was also electrifying within the omni-f*cked parameters of a WCW organisation in which such an ascent seemed impossible. Goldberg was the unstoppable force; the very promotion he worked for the arthritic, egotistical immovable object.

The prospect of the clash was so spellbinding because it just couldn't happen - Hollywood Hogan surely wouldn't be happy taking the full brunt of the move, and he could have leveraged his contract to avoid doing so - but it also had to. Even a promotion as feckless and corrupt couldn't stop the rise of Goldberg.

For thrills as earnest as they were fascinating on an insider level, WCW needed a stadium-drawing act just to keep the wolf from Stamford at bay.

Goldberg was that act.