Wrestling history is pretty much obsessed with the "Barbershop" incident. You know the one. Shawn Michaels throws Marty Jannetty through a plate-glass window, effectively launching the career of the greatest in-ring performer of all time while leaving Marty to become the industry's shorthand for the "forgotten" tag team partner. It's a classic story. But there’s a weird, neon-colored chapter that mostly gets skipped over in the documentaries.
In 1996, the WWF tried to catch lightning in a bottle twice. They gave us The New Rockers.
If you don't remember them, don't feel bad. Honestly, even some of the most hardcore tape-traders from the mid-90s block this era out. It wasn't the high-flying, era-defining masterpiece of the original Rockers. Instead, it was a bizarre, almost surreal attempt to reboot a legendary brand with a partner who wasn't Shawn Michaels. That partner was Al Snow, though back then, he was saddled with the name Leif Cassidy.
The Birth of a "New" Legacy
By 1996, Shawn Michaels was the WWF Champion and the undisputed face of the company. Marty Jannetty? He was just... there. He had returned to the company in late 1995, but the spark was different. The fans wanted the old Marty, but without Shawn, the act felt incomplete.
The office decided Marty needed a partner. Enter Al Snow.
Now, Al Snow is a legend today. We know him as the guy with "Head," the leader of the J.O.B. Squad, and a trainer who knows more about the business than almost anyone alive. But in '96, he was struggling. He’d cycled through gimmicks like Avatar (the guy who put on a mask to fight) and Shinobi. He needed a win.
When management paired them up as The New Rockers, the original idea was supposedly a straightforward tribute to the 80s team. It didn't stay that way.
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Why did they become comedy heels?
According to Marty Jannetty’s own account in The Pro Wrestling Hall of Fame: The Tag Teams, the gimmick shifted into something "silly" almost immediately. They weren't just wrestlers; they were a parody. They were patterned after The Monkees or 70s teen idols. Al Snow was renamed Leif Cassidy—a direct riff on David Cassidy and Leif Garrett.
They wore gear that looked like a highlighter factory exploded. They did synchronized dances that were intentionally uncool. They were basically the "uncool" version of the coolest team from ten years prior.
Marty has said he only went along with it to help Al Snow get a foot in the door. He’s also hinted—though this is one of those "wrestling rumors" that refuses to die—that Shawn Michaels himself might have suggested the goofy gimmick to Vince McMahon. Whether that's true or just backstage paranoia, the result was the same: a team that was dead on arrival.
The Struggle for Relevance
It’s easy to look back and laugh, but these two were incredible workers. That’s the real tragedy of The New Rockers. If you actually watch their matches against teams like The Godwinns or The Bodydonnas, the wrestling is solid.
Sentence length doesn't matter when you're hitting a perfect double dropkick. They were fast. They were fluid. But the fans didn't care.
The crowd didn't want a parody of The Rockers. They wanted the real Rockers, and since Shawn was busy being the "Main Event," this version felt like a cheap knockoff. They were essentially used as high-level enhancement talent. They were the guys who could have a great 10-minute match and make the rising stars look like a million bucks before losing.
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A Breakdown of the "New Rocker" Era
- Debut: February 1996.
- The Look: Fluorescent fringes, patterned spandex, and enough hairspray to deplete the ozone layer.
- The Peak: A spot in the four-way tag team elimination match at Summerslam 1996. They didn't win.
- The Breakup: Late 1996, when Marty Jannetty left the company yet again.
The chemistry was there, but the "soul" wasn't. You can't replace the specific friction that Shawn and Marty had. That's a once-in-a-generation lightning strike. Pairing Marty with Al Snow was like trying to replace Lennon with a really talented session musician. It sounds fine, but it doesn't move the needle.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Split
People think The New Rockers failed because Al Snow couldn't fill Shawn's shoes. That’s not quite right.
The failure was in the booking. The WWF at the time was in a transition period. They were moving away from the "New Generation" and toward the "Attitude Era." A team dressed like 1987 was never going to work in a world where Stone Cold Steve Austin was starting to swear on live TV.
When the team finally dissolved in December 1996, it was a mercy killing. Marty headed out, and Al Snow was eventually sent to ECW to "find himself."
Ironically, that move to ECW saved Al’s career. He ditched the Leif Cassidy name, started talking to a mannequin head, and became one of the biggest stars of the late 90s. He proved he didn't need to be a "New" version of someone else. He just needed to be Al Snow.
Why The New Rockers Still Matter Today
You might ask why we’re even talking about a mid-card tag team from thirty years ago.
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It’s because The New Rockers serve as a cautionary tale for the wrestling business. It’s the ultimate example of "Brand Dilution." When you have a legendary name, you can't just slap it on two different people and expect the same reaction.
It also highlights the incredible resilience of Al Snow. Most guys would have been buried forever after the Leif Cassidy gimmick. Instead, he used it as fuel. He turned the frustration of being a "New Rocker" into the "madman" persona that defined his legacy.
For Marty, it was another "almost" in a career full of them. He’s one of the most gifted athletes to ever step in the ring, but he could never quite outrun the shadow of that Barbershop window.
If you’re a student of the game, go back and watch some of their matches on the WWE Network. Ignore the neon fringe. Ignore the silly dancing. Just watch the mechanics. You’ll see two masters of the craft trying to make a bad idea work. There's a certain kind of respect earned in that.
Practical Lessons from the New Rockers Era
If you’re looking to dive deeper into this specific niche of wrestling history, here is how to navigate it without getting lost in the "fake news" of the internet:
- Watch the Summerslam '96 Four-Way: It’s probably their best showing. It features The Bodydonnas, The Godwinns, and the Smoking Gunns. It’s a snapshot of a tag division in flux.
- Listen to Al Snow’s Shoots: Al is notoriously honest about this period. He doesn't hold back on how much he disliked the Leif Cassidy character, and his insights into Vince McMahon’s mindset at the time are gold.
- Compare the Workrate: Watch a 1989 Rockers match and a 1996 New Rockers match back-to-back. The evolution of Marty’s style is fascinating—he became much more of a "ring general" as he got older, even if the athleticism slowed down a tiny bit.
- Research the "Phantom" Title Win: While not involving the "New" team, understanding why the original Rockers never officially held the belts explains why the WWF felt they "owed" the Rockers brand another run in '96.
The history of professional wrestling isn't just made of Wrestlemania main events. It’s built on the backs of teams like The New Rockers—the guys who showed up, worked hard, and wore the neon even when they knew the ship was sinking. They weren't the "real" Rockers, but for one weird year in the 90s, they were all we had.