AEW Five Fingers of Death (and Friends) 12/1 - 12/7 Part 3

ROH Final Battle 12/5/25

Lee Moriarty vs Nigel McGuinness - Iron Man Match

In general, it doesn't make sense to argue in good faith against those who argue in bad faith. 

A cottage industry has sprouted where grifters spout takes they barely believe in order to tear things down to get engagement. That provides them followers, clicks, appearances, and maybe, if they're particularly successful, lucrative attention from corporate overlords. 

The thing is that younger people see this, and they see that it comes from someone with a big following and some level of past authority and significance, and they cling to it as at least a possible truth.

So no, I don't think it's worth validating them and their thoughts by spending too much time with it, but spending a little, well, there's not too much harm in that, especially when it doesn't take me too far afield from where I'd be anyway.

The question at hand? Storytelling, specifically the validity of implicit, in-ring storytelling vs something more explicit and driven by out-of-ring angles and promos. Can the text itself stand without being buoyed on a sea of context. 

The case study: Lee Moriary vs Nigel McGuinness from Final Battle 2025. An Ironman match between two pure rules stalwarts. 

On paper and certainly as the grifters would grift, this was a cold match. It was announced about a week before the show. It was set up solely on pride. The title wasn't on the line. It wasn't under pure rules. Moriarty had successfully defended the title against Nigel. Nigel had defeated Lee in the technical spectacle 4-way to score a title shot at Zack Sabre, Jr. at Forbidden Door 2025. They were 1-1 against each other. Lee is the longest running Pure champ. Nigel is the second longest running champ and the one who really put the title on the map. This, therefore, was about pride. That's the story coming in. That's it. One backstage promo. No angles. 

But that's not how wrestling works. There are always implicit characteristics. Lee's used to wrestling pure rules matches and here the rules were relaxed (rope breaks didn't count against you, for instance). Shane Taylor was allowed at ringside. Nigel came in with arguably more to prove. He's the one that made the challenge. Moriarty, on the other hand, had just been taken to the limit against Komander in a Proving Ground match and he'd have to defend against him upcoming. This was a distraction from that in some ways. Nigel had dropped twenty-two pounds for this and while he wasn't in the same sort of ring shape as Lee, he was far more rested up. They were in relatively neutral ground as McGuinness came up in Ohio but it's not far from Moriarty's home in Pittsburgh. 

All of this potentially matters, but at the same time, none of it is a sure thing. They're all elements and details, just a few of many, that could potentially be used by the wrestlers to craft a story. And even though the wrestlers might choose to tap into these, that doesn't mean that the story is compelling. I had a period when I was younger that I valued logic above all else in a match. Were all the parentheses closed? Did everything make sense? Was it all set up and paid off? Was anything extraneous? Now I realize that it's much more of a bare minimum or a starting point, and it's also not the be all and end all. Narratives can be a little messy if the sacrifice of coherency somehow increases emotional connection, if it helps people feel instead of think at a key moment. In most cases, however, structural underpinnings bolster that emotional connection instead of disrupting them, and the absence of such is not due to some stroke of creative brilliance but instead pure laziness. In a world with more nuance and less grifters, it'd be easier to point out such examples. As it is, we have to be careful not to use too wide a brush.

So coming in, a single question, quite often the most primal, most important question in all of pro wrestling: "Who is better?" And various attributes that separate the two wrestlers, and a situation primed for the wrestlers to explore these differences between them. You can see why this is a perfect case study. 

They had thirty minutes (and, of course, eventually an overtime) to ply their craft and make their art, and they went right to it. The first few minutes were a feeling out process, hold flowing into hold, reversals opening up new possibilities. There were risks here. It could feel too much like an exhibition. It could be too formless with nothing driving the action but technique. It could feel too collaborative where it's obvious they were propping one another up. But they walked the line well. Nigel was perhaps more the aggressor but Moriarty had answers, a series of interesting and intricate escapes. They both used rope breaks liberally, establishing to a crowd that had just seen a women's Pure title match that here they were fair game.

Notably, after being tagged by a back elbow on a switch, McGuinness snapped into the ropes to throw his comebacker Les Kellett lariat, but Moriarty simply walked out of reach. That would come into play a couple of minutes later as he went for it again, wanting a quick fall to take an early lead. Moriarty had him scouted and went behind for a roll up. McGuinness reversed into a pin attempt of his own, but Moriarty was a couple of moves ahead and turned it into his signature Border City Stretch. McGuinness, in their previous title match, had spent a debilitating minute in the hold. Here, with less than five minutes gone, he couldn't afford that. Instead, he quickly and strategically tapped so no damage was done.

The fans chose this moment to start supporting the quantitative underdog, chanting for McGuinness, and Moriarty went to the floor to burn some time and play to them accordingly. Back in the ring, McGuinness, now down a fall, ramped up the intensity. Moriarty picked an ankle after a roll, and Nigel went right to the ear to drive him to the ropes. He started opening up on Moriarty's arm, slamming it onto the mat and then working it over to create a vulnerability. Moriarty sold accordingly. Nigel went for the Tower of London in the corner, but Lee was able to escape, but not press an advantage. Instead, Nigel became even more aggressive, escalating things to strikes, first in the ring, and then, after chasing Lee out, on the floor. That aggression cost him dearly, however, as after chasing Moriarty back into the ring, Lee was able to roll him up for a quick three count making the match 2-0. 

Nigel, now in a hole, responded by going in harder on the arm. That made him predictable in some ways but it also gave him an advantage in the moment. For instance, if Lee went for a sunset flip, Nigel was able to block it just by slapping at the hands. Moriarty utilized his superior athleticism and comparable canniness to reverse repeated attempts at moves and use the distance McGuinness occasionally provided in setting up bigger attacks to fire back, but Nigel was able to cut off Moriarty by driving forward and attacking the arm. If Lee missed a move, sometimes the sheer recoil of it caused him to be momentarily stunned and to hold his arm, excellent selling that provided a clear, logical, immersive narrative opportunity for Nigel. 

McGuinness locked in his London Dungeon armhold once, but Moriarty made it to the ropes. After a missed corner charge by Lee (set up through a complex series of reversals), he locked it in again, and this time scored the submission. It was still 2-1 however, and Nigel, increasingly desperate with about ten minutes left, yet smelling blood given what he had just accomplished, immediately went for it again. It was a completely reasonable and compelling character decision from him, yet Lee was able to capitalize upon its predictability, rolling through and locking Nigel into a deep cradle to make the score 3-1.

Now, as the clock continued to tick down, they had built a match through the idea of contesting advantages. Lee had a clear quantitative advantage, up by two falls with time on his side, but Nigel had a clear qualitative advantage, with Lee's arm weakened and damaged. If Nigel's desperation drove him too hard to capitalize, Lee would be able to predict it and counter, however. Nigel did press, working over the arm and chopping Moriarty down, but another attempt at the London Dungeon was reversed. He shifted gears to a triangle choke, but Lee made it to the ropes. 

With about three and a half minutes left, they crashed into each other and Nigel finally hit the Les Kellett clothesline, but only for two. Moriarty escaped the ring. Nigel followed again. This time Shane Taylor got in between them and that distraction allowed Lee to lock in a choke. Nigel barely beat the count but was vulnerable to the Border City Stretch. Maybe because Nigel wasn't softened up enough (given his early tap at the start of the match) or because Lee's arm was damaged, Nigel was able to turn it around into a pin and make the score 3-2. Everything from them crashing into each other to the roll up to the pin was part of a single narrative sequence that also played upon what had come before (the quick tap, the multiple attempts at the clothesline, Nigel successfully chasing him to the floor earlier in the match but getting caught on the way back in). It was elaborate but because it was grounded in both character and what they had already built within the match; it absolutely worked.

Things only got wilder from there. Lee had tried unsuccessfully to wrestle defensively when he was further up in points (including on his back, Inoki style). Now he seemed more at a loss, still up but with momentum having shifted away from him. Nigel didn't let him rest and after going back and forth on waistlock attempts, they crashed into each other once again. Lee recovered first, but instead of letting the clock run out, he advanced and got tied up by Nigel for the equalizing pin. Lee, distracted, went to Taylor for advice, was rolled up  and with Nigel holding the tights, it was suddenly 4-3 with only seconds left. As the ref checked on Lee, Taylor clocked Nigel from the outside and with time running out, Lee scored the pin to equalize things at the buzzer. 

There was a sort of moral equivalency here, Nigel's tight pull and Taylor's interference, but perhaps one was more of a transgression than the other. Regardless, and despite Taylor's vehemence that Lee just take the draw that he got by the skin of his teeth, Moriarty called Nigel back for a sudden death overtime. Here they did a series of quick roll ups and pin attempts we've seen so often, but even with the relatively low stakes, the match that they had built and the intensity they brought to bear made these feel visceral and gripping, competitive instead of collaborative. On a double pin, Lee was able to get his shoulder up at the last second, winning the overtime fall and the match. 

Post-match, in an emotional moment, McGuinness presented his original ROH Pure Title belt to Lee. Meanwhile, Shane Taylor was still upset over with how things had played out and argued with Moriarty. Even though this match had come in relatively cold with little outside story hooks, they had, through the match itself, created one moving forward as there's now possible dissension within Shane Taylor Promotions.

Thirty minute matches can be hard to write about. On the match narrative itself, from bell to bell to bell, I went 1250+ words. Character traits and attributes drove the action here. Things were set up early that were paid off late. There was architectural connective tissue (and let's say the ligaments in Moriarty's arm) that kept the match from falling apart despite the length and the complexity of some of the sequences and the technique therein. 

So what else can you even say? There was a story here. It was a wonderful sports-based, competition-based story between two athletes, two masters, two warriors testing themselves against each other. It was full of human failing and triumphant opportunism. 

Grifters are going to grift and try to get people to underlook a match like this. Maybe it could have been built better and supported more on the way in. I'm not going to dismiss that possibility, but it still stood tall as it was. It was given everything it needed to succeed (time, freedom, a presentation on commentary that took it seriously and treated it as important) as an artistic endeavor and compelling story and it ultimately did succeed because the work itself was so detailed, rich, and strong. I feel for anyone that either can't see this because of ignorance or won't see it because they're only in this to make a buck.