That Don't Work for Me, Brother

The final chapter of wrestling’s most infamous rivalry has arrived.

In Part III, we step into the chaotic days leading up to Montreal Screwjob, when trust inside the WWF locker room was hanging by a thread and the future of the company was on the line. Bret Hart was leaving for WCW. Shawn Michaels was set to face him for the WWF Championship in Bret’s home country of Canada. And Vince McMahon was running out of options.

We break down the tense conversations behind the scenes — the meetings between Vince McMahon, Bret Hart, and Shawn Michaels, as well as the role played by Jim Cornette and others in the days leading up to the show. What options were actually on the table? Who knew the finish? And when did the idea of “protecting the belt” turn into something far more controversial?

In Part II of our deep dive into the most infamous rivalry in wrestling history, we shift the spotlight from matches to mind games.

This episode is all about Bret Hart vs. Shawn Michaels — not just as performers, but as polar opposites colliding in the locker room, the boardroom, and eventually the ring.

Bret: the stoic technician, the flag bearer, the “best there is, best there was, best there ever will be.”
Shawn: the chaos agent, the Heartbreak Kid, the locker-room politician with the grin and the superkick.

The war begins.

In Part I of our deep dive into wrestling’s most infamous rivalry, we focus the spotlight where he’d want it — on Shawn Michaels. Before Montreal. Before betrayal. Before the bitterness.

Just the matches.

With special guest RJ in the building, we break down the bouts that built the myth of HBK — from ladder war classics to Iron Man endurance tests, from selling clinics to ego-fueled excellence. Was Shawn truly “Mr. WrestleMania”? Was he the innovator that changed the business? Or was the greatness always tangled up in chaos?

Before there were podcast call-outs and Twitter beefs, there was ego, politics, and a friendship that imploded in real time.

This week on That Don’t Work For Me Brother, we break down the long, messy saga between Hulk Hogan and Jesse Ventura — from locker room tension to union talk… from commentary booths to courtrooms.

This week on That Don’t Work For Me Brother, we’re talking about Don Muraco—the Magnificent One. The prototype. The guy who felt like a final boss before wrestling had a word for that.

Muraco wasn’t about flips or flash. He was about presence. About walking into a building and immediately making it feel smaller. From his early territory dominance to his legendary rivalry with Jimmy Snuka, Muraco represented an era where toughness, charisma, and credibility actually mattered—and where being believable was the whole game.

This week on That Don’t Work for Me Brother, we’re talking about one of the most instantly recognizable babyfaces of the ’80s: Koko B. Ware.

From the Memphis grind to WrestleMania entrances with Frankie on his shoulder, KoKo was pure charisma in an era stacked with monsters and muscleheads.

On this episode of That Don’t Work For Me Brother, we take a long, hard look at one of the most baffling success stories of the Monday Night Wars: Disco Inferno.

How did a novelty disco gimmick not only survive in WCW, but thrive? Why was this dude constantly on TV, holding titles, and working with top guys while more talented wrestlers sat in catering? And at what point does “go-away heat” turn into actual heat… or just nuclear confusion?

Wild, loud, and built different — this week we’re talking Bull Curry.

Before “hardcore” was a buzzword and before wrestling figured out how to brand chaos, Bull Curry was out there living it. From blood-soaked brawls to unpredictable energy that made promoters nervous and crowds lose their minds, Curry was never about polish — he was about presence.

This is the final chapter of our Bam Bam Bigelow series, picking up with a legend whose body was breaking down but whose presence never stopped feeling larger than life. In Part III, we follow Bam Bam Bigelow through the last stretch of his career—his later runs in ECW and WCW, the physical toll of years spent redefining what a “big man” could do, and the complicated legacy he left behind.

This week on That Don’t Work For Me, Brother, we’re digging into one of the weirdest, most transitional stretches in wrestling history. The last gasps of the cartoon era. The slow collapse of old guarantees. Steroids, scandals, contract chaos, locker-room politics, and a whole lot of guys realizing the game they mastered was disappearing under their feet.