AEW Five Fingers of Death 9/23 - 9/29 Part 1

AEW Dynamite Grand Slam 9/25/24

Bryan Danielson vs Nigel McGuinness

MD: Nigel McGuinness has long dreamed an impossible dream. His career did not end on his terms. He sat on the sidelines, first figuratively and then literally as a commentator, as his peers, many of them even a few years his junior, rose to levels of success that they could have only previously imagined. It could have been him. It should have been him. Not only was it not him, to earn a livelihood, he had to sit and watch every moment of it, to try to translate it for the layman. And worst of all was Bryan Danielson. He rose higher than all of the others, had lost it all as well, but had found some way to reclaim it whereas Nigel never rose and never reclaimed. Yet through perseverance and persistence, through a dogged single-mindedness that never wavered, Nigel both created and seized opportunity. There was no level he would not stoop to, no insult he might leave unsaid. Just as Jon Moxley had goaded Darby Allin, Nigel found his way to the matchmaker's ear and suggested to him a match that would be irresistible to any Ring of Honor fan, Bryan Danielson vs Nigel McGuinness one last time, on the grand stage of Grand Slam, an unplanned, unexpected stop on the path of Danielson's final countdown. If Danielson wasn't cleared, Nigel would get an empty victory that would still fill his belly. If he was, then he was hurt and vulnerable, a prime victim. Either way, everything was coming up Nigel. This was one last chance to right the wrongs, to take everything that he deserved, to show the world that somewhere along the line, history itself had gotten off track. It was his dream.

And Bryan Danielson did not care. Not in the least. While Nigel was living his dream, Bryan Danielson was living his own personal nightmare. This was his final countdown. This was the end of the road. This was his last taste of glory. This was him defining his own destiny in every way that Nigel had never been allowed to. He was going to retire on his terms, champion until someone could take it from him, a true sportsman's exit, a true wrestler's final chapter. But instead, his friends, his brothers-in-arms, had decided to take matters into their own hands. They had betrayed him in the coldest of blood over a difference of vision, over promises unfulfilled and the sort of dissatisfaction over the state of the world that would only be felt by those who intended to remain in it. Danielson had one foot out the door. To Jon Moxley, Bryan Danielson could not be the change this world needed. He was already half checked out, already doing arts and crafts with his daughter in a cabin in the woods. Best to push him the rest of the way and make a statement to the world that needed changing in the process, to do something that mattered in a way that would make it matter the most.

What was Nigel McGuinness and all of his verbal barbs, and his boasts, and his Oasis theme, and the spiky hair he doesn't even have anymore, in the face of a betrayal of the heart? What was Nigel McGuinness in the face of what Jon Moxley was taking away from him, the chance to end his story in a way that would allow him to be the best father he could possibly be? Nothing. Nigel was dirt beneath Danielson's feet as he walked towards the end of the night and his first chance to get back at Moxley. He was a gnat to be swatted away. Nigel McGuinness had spent the last few years of his career seeing Bryan Danielson's face on every wrestler in every match he was providing commentary for. Bryan Danielson, however, could see nothing except for the road to Jon Moxley and revenge before him. In the entire match that would follow, save for one slap, Bryan Danielson did not see Nigel once.

And let's pause right there.

I'm not going to take you through the rest of the match. I'm sure you can find some really good accounts out there of the nuts and bolts of it, the easter eggs, the thought put into it. Despite what I just said, there was thought and care put into it and not just from Nigel. It was a match at least eleven years in the making, an anchor for one of AEW's biggest shows of the year, and it was put together as such.

That doesn't, however, mean that it was presented that way as seen through the lens of Bryan Danielson's performance. Not only is that a good thing, it's a great thing, a truly impressive and admirable thing, the exact sort of thing that AEW needs and everything that its detractors says it is not. This was an indy dream match, fan service to ROH devotees, a wonderful nostalgic box that could be checked, a gift! And it was unquestionably, undeniably, 100% an afterthought to the main story in the company, the title match of WrestleDream between Bryan Danielson and Jon Moxley, exactly as it should be.

That didn't lessen the emotions. It didn't stunt people's feeling in the moment. If you followed along online, people were absolutely into it. The people in the crowd were into it. The announcers, though scattered, were into it. But more importantly, everyone was exactly where they needed to be by the end of the night.

That's a pretty astounding balancing act when you think about it. This was the character (I won't speak on the person) Nigel McGuinness' dream, the culmination of a year of him mouthing off and years more of things in the margins. It built on a dozen prior matches, some borderline legendary. And it cashed in all of that to get over the look on Bryan Danielson's face and what was really on his mind. He never wavered, never blinked, never slowed down. He was a freight train out of control heading straight to Jon Moxley, tie in his hand. Sometimes that meant he made a mistake here. Maybe he charged in the wrong way. Maybe he fell wrong. He was looking past this in a way no wrestler had ever looked past a rival before. Nigel capitalized as you'd expect him to do. It didn't make a difference. Of course it didn't. Nigel mouthed off to the bitter end. Of course he did. Bryan marched on without looking back.

There is power in sacrifice. The more something matters, the more value it can provide when put on the altar of necessity. This mattered a lot. It mattered to longtime fans. It mattered to one of the key commentators of the company. It mattered to the crowd. It was a dream match, a miracle match. But in the grand scheme of things, what matters is the overall direction of the company, the big picture story, the brewing war between Jon Moxley and Bryan Danielson, and how the resolution of that war will take the company into 2025. For AEW to truly succeed, hitting those wonderful nostalgic marks aren't enough, being the legacy of all wrestling, from the territories to WCW to Japan and Mexico and whatever else, that's not enough. Those all have to be means to some greater end, not the end itself. And there is a greater end in sight than Danielson vs Moxley, and this match was mercilessly, heartlessly, brilliantly sacrificed to that end. The notion of "Killing Your Darlings" is often misattributed to Faulkner or Chesterton, but the notion is clear enough. In the past, there's been reason to doubt whether or not AEW booking could ever do that given the love of wrestling that ingrained in the company and the nostalgic streak that runs throughout, but there couldn't be a clearer sign than this that it's willing to do what needs to be done no matter how hard it might be. Nigel's dream, though fulfilled on paper, ultimately died to glorify Bryan's nightmare. And both we and the company are better off for it.