September 14, 1998. If you were a wrestling fan back then, you remember exactly where you were. The Greenville Memorial Auditorium was shaking. Not just "loud crowd" shaking—the kind of vibration that feels like the building might actually come apart at the seams. Ric Flair was back.
After five months of being sidelined by a brutal lawsuit and some of the nastiest backstage politics in history, the Nature Boy stepped through that curtain. It wasn't just a wrestling return; it was a religious experience for the Carolina fans. But then, right as the heat reached a boiling point, the screen flickered. WCW cut to commercial. Wait, what?
Imagine the most important promo of the decade being interrupted by a 1--800-COLLECT ad. That wasn't a glitch. It was the peak of the toxic power struggle between the greatest wrestler of all time and a young, cocky executive named Eric Bischoff. Honestly, looking back at ric flair cut to commercial wcw bischoff apologize, it's a miracle the company didn't implode right then and there.
Why WCW Sued the Nature Boy in the First Place
You've gotta understand the context to see why this moment was so charged. The whole mess started because Ric Flair missed a Thunder taping in April 1998. Now, Thunder was basically the "B-show" that nobody—including the wrestlers—really wanted to do. Flair had told the office he was going to his son Reid’s amateur wrestling tournament.
Eric Bischoff, who was basically playing "god" with the Turner budget at the time, decided he needed to make an example out of the legend. He didn't just fine him. He sued him. He literally told the locker room he was going to "sue Flair into bankruptcy."
Think about that. One of the men who built the foundation of the NWA and WCW was being threatened with financial ruin over a missed taping of a secondary show.
The fans were livid. They started chanting "We Want Flair" at every single show. It didn't matter if Hogan was in the ring or if Goldberg was streaking through the roster—the "Woo!" was everywhere. Eventually, the pressure (and the lawyers) forced a settlement. Flair was coming back.
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The Promo That Burned Down Greenville
When Flair finally walked out in Greenville, it wasn't a "scripted" segment. Not really. He looked at Bischoff, who was standing in the ring, and he let loose decades of frustration. He wasn't talking about "The Nature Boy" anymore; he was talking about Richard Fliehr, the father who almost lost everything.
He called Bischoff a "liar" and a "cheat." He screamed until his face turned that signature shade of beet-red. But the most famous line?
"Abuse of power! You're a lowlife, scum-sucking, pathologically lying son of a bitch!"
And then? Darkness.
Well, not darkness, but a commercial break. To the fans at home, it felt like a slap in the face. It looked like Bischoff was using his real-life power to silence the man who was exposing him on live TV.
The Truth: Was It Sabotage or Timing?
Here’s where things get murky. For years, fans swore that Eric Bischoff ordered the production truck to cut to commercial to "save himself" from the verbal lashing. It’s a great story. It fits the "Easy E" villain persona perfectly.
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But if you listen to Bischoff’s 83 Weeks podcast nowadays, he’s got a different take. He claims it was a "hard out." In live TV, you have specific windows where the network must go to commercial or they lose millions in ad revenue.
"We were way over time," Bischoff has said. "Ric was rolling, and I wasn't going to stop him, but the network doesn't care about a promo when the commercial clock hits zero."
Whether you believe him or not is up to you. Most of the boys in the back at the time, like Arn Anderson and Kevin Nash, have hinted that the "timing" was a little too convenient. If you want to kill someone’s momentum, you cut their mic or you cut the feed. WCW did both.
The Long Road to an Apology
The relationship didn't get better overnight. In fact, it got weirder. WCW booked a "heart attack" angle for Flair shortly after. They had him lose to Bischoff at Starrcade '98 because, well, WCW logic.
The real-life heat followed them to WWE years later. There’s a famous story about Flair confronting Bischoff in a locker room in 2003, literally trying to start a physical fight while Eric was on the phone with his wife.
So, did Eric Bischoff ever apologize?
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Sorta. It wasn't a "I'm sorry I sued you" card in the mail. It was a slow process of maturing. On various podcasts and documentaries, Bischoff has admitted that suing Flair was the "biggest mistake" of his career. He’s acknowledged that he let his ego get the better of him and that he didn't respect what Flair meant to the industry.
Flair, for his part, has softened too. He’s gone from calling Eric a "no-good prick" to appearing on his show and sharing drinks. They’ve basically agreed that the 90s were a drug-fueled, ego-driven fever dream and it's better to be friends now than to hold a 30-year grudge.
What This Taught Us About the Wrestling Business
The ric flair cut to commercial wcw bischoff apologize saga is a masterclass in how not to run a locker room. It showed that even the biggest stars are vulnerable to corporate whims.
- Egos Kill Business: WCW was winning the ratings war, but they spent their energy fighting their own top draw.
- The Fans Always Know: You can't "bury" a legend like Flair. The more Bischoff tried to hide him, the louder the fans got.
- Live TV is Cruel: Whether it was a "hard out" or sabotage, the commercial break during that return promo remains one of the most frustrating moments in Nitro history.
If you’re looking to dive deeper into this era, the best thing you can do is watch the Who Killed WCW? docuseries or listen to the specific 83 Weeks episode titled "Ric Flair's Return." It gives you both sides of the coin.
Just don't expect a simple "I'm sorry" to fix everything. In the wrestling business, apologies usually come with a price tag and a podcast appearance.
Next Steps for the Superfan:
Check out the Peacock archives for the September 14, 1998 episode of Monday Nitro. Watch the raw emotion in Flair's eyes before the cut—it’s the last time wrestling felt that "real" for a lot of us. You can also compare this to Bischoff's "apology" in the 2014 WWE documentary The Ultimate Rivalry, where the two finally sat down face-to-face.