AEW Five Fingers of Death 12/8 - 12/14 Part 1

AEW Dynamite 12/10/25

Samoa Joe vs Eddie Kingston

MD: Eddie Kingston is so, so tired.

He was on top of the world. He had beaten his rival, his contrast (Claudio) to win the ROH Title. He represented New Japan with the NJPW Strong title, a dream he could have never imagined. He had put it all on the line for the inaugural Continental Classic, betting on himself when none of his peers would, and he had come out triumphant. And then, just to cap it all off, he proved Bryan Danielson wrong about literally everything. 

It was a beautiful end to a very difficult story. 

But that's not how life works and that's not how pro wrestling works. The story never ends. There's always another day. There's always another challenge. There's always another hill to climb.

Sometimes, your story bumps into someone else's. So Mark Briscoe, living a story of his own, defeated him for the ROH title. Okada beat him for the Continental Championship. And against Gabe Kidd, he lost more than just the NJPW Strong title. He lost a year and a half of his career.

Maybe he could have quit right there. Maybe he could have let the demons overtake him. But this is all he knows and so much of what he loves. So he pushed, one step after the other.

And he came back to a world he could barely recognize anymore (except for some of it he recognized all too well). Ortiz was nowhere to be found. Ruby went off and had herself a baby. Mox had gone completely off the rails (Claudio). Being back in the ring was like trudging through mud, one hard step after the other as he got his instincts back, got his wind back, fought his way back to his feet again and again.

But hey, in all things, hope, right? There was Hook. The kid had come back himself, the odd man out. Eddie knew something about that. Maybe he needed some guidance, maybe he could be the path forward. Maybe through Hook, Eddie could find an end to his story, a legacy, could leave the place better than he found it. Maybe that was the dream as much as any title was. 

The thing is, Eddie Kingston's dreams so often turn into nightmares. 

Yeah, Hook was using him, sure, but it wasn't even about him. Eddie was just part of a cover story, just some trappings to get people's guard down. It wasn't his story. He was barely a bit player in the story actually going on. He was scenery so that Hook could betray Hangman Adam Page and Samoa Joe could steal (When did Joe have to steal anything?) the title once again.

You have to understand though, Eddie's spent his life like that, people looking past him, people ignoring him, people underestimating him, people insulting him. Eddie Kingston may be tired, but he sure as hell isn't asleep. 

And there's no cup of coffee quite like getting slapped in the face. 

So he did what he did. While Hangman and Swerve ran to the ring to band together and cause trouble, Eddie stayed in the back and called out Shibata. Shibata's second generation, trained with Inoki, got to be part of a legacy beyond Eddie's imagination, and he put in the work, and now he's out there sticking his finger in his ear and hitting low blows. So Eddie, still a half step slow, pushed through it and overcame him. He called out Joe, and even with Joe, with Joe of all people, Eddie was trapped in a familiar hell all over again, the old using the young, tossing out false promises and hypocritical bullshit, taking, taking, taking. 

By this point, Eddie knew that you can't count on anyone in life. You got to make that change yourself, even if it was hard and even if it was thankless and even if some days it felt pointless and futile. 

This wasn't the time he would choose to challenge for the big belt. He wasn't ready yet. He was still a quarter step slow. But to get to  choose, you have to compromise. You have to play the game. Eddie Kingston didn't play games and he sure as hell didn't compromise. 

And that's what led him to standing across the ring from the World Champion, sixty minute time limit, title on the line, in front of a hot Georgia crowd on a cold winter day. 

And say what you will about him, he didn't compromise.

He stood tall.

That was the one thing that Samoa Joe couldn't handle. 

Bullies never can.

At the bell, he pressed Joe to the corner, backed on to the center, and called him out to meet him there. That's how you deal with bullies. 

As Eddie tried to contain him, Joe hefted him over, leaning on size and strength, and he spent the next few minutes unleashing his signature strikes, jabs, elbows, chops, open handed shots. For each and every one, however, Eddie Kingston had an answer. He was a tree rooted in the center. Sometimes he bowed, sometimes he even cracked, but he never broke. He stood firm, and even though it might have taken a while now and again, he fired back. 

Joe may have been bigger. Joe may have been stronger. But Eddie had the higher moral ground. Joe was the champion. He was driven by pride. He had the world watching. They were chanting for him too. He had to meet Eddie's challenge. But though he met it, he came up short time and again. He may have staggered Eddie with a chop to the throat, but Eddie dropped him to his back with a chop off the ropes. 

So, in the face of mortal fortitude he couldn't imagine (because he underestimated Eddie Kingston just like everyone else), Samoa Joe blinked first. He slammed his body into Eddie in the corner. He stopped fighting and dropped down to hit a snap power slam. And because he blinked first, because the fans knew it, and because Eddie kept on struggling, kept on reaching, kept on working his way back to his feet, the fans stopped chanting for Joe and put all of their support behind Eddie instead.

And maybe that was enough to bolster him for one last comeback. Eddie got beneath the monster that is Joe and hit an exploder, all the pain he'd been absorbing squeezing its way out in the form of the anguish on his face when it only got him a two count. He hit the DDT he used to beat Shibata but that anguish doubled as Joe managed to roll out of the ring. 

And then, feeling it all slip away again, like it had so many times before, Eddie tried for the killshot, the Uraken. Joe blocked it once but Eddie pushed through the pain to set him up for it a second time. Joe was ready for it, ducked under, and locked in the Kokina Clutch. Eddie Kingston was ready enough to stand up to a bully but maybe not yet ready to defeat a champion, and trapped in the middle of the ring, nowhere to go, all he could do was tap. 

Life is hard. Life never ends. The struggle is there with you every day. But the thing is, life isn't black and white either. Did he win the title? No. Did he win the match? No. Did he make Joe blink first? Absolutely. And for a man like Samoa Joe, a man that lives and dies on his reputation, that's something he'll see in his own reflection when he looks in the mirror next. Joe knows. Eddie knows. The world knows. Eddie can come out of this one his head, heavy as it might be, held high. Will he? Maybe not, because he's Eddie Kingston after all, but he can. Can Joe? Can he really?

You see, Eddie may have had to tap, but he didn't quit, and difference between the two is absolutely everything. Maybe it's not the stuff dreams are made of, but it's as human a story as pro wrestling can tell.