AEW Five Fingers of Death (and Friends) 1/12 - 1/18 (Part 1)

AEW Dynamite 1/14/26

MJF vs Bandido

Way I see it, Max only has one thing left to prove.

Look, he was a very young world champion, main evented one of the biggest shows of all time, has drawn houses and ratings and sold merch, has the Punk feud, has the Danielson match, the Darby match, the Ospreay match, the Omega match. The Mistico match, with the Briscoe match the next night. He's probably a top 10 success story in the wrestler-to-movie pipeline already (but then it's not like he has a lot of competition; Hunter didn't blow the world away with Blade III). He got over incredible babyface bullshit with the Double Clothesline/Kangaroo Kick deal. He's done two musical numbers. I could go on and mention more matches or esoteric things. You can argue any one of these things, but you can't argue all of them. 

So what's left? Going to WWE and main eventing a Mania? That's all politics. It's all playing a game. It's being part of a machine. We know he can play politics. There's nothing real there anymore, if there ever was. Natural heel that he is, he's not going to break Make-A-Wish records or be the best darn spokesman for the Saudi regime you could hope for. 

Is it getting star ratings? We don't care much about that here but he's got the highest WON star rating ever for a US TV match, or something like that. Does quantity really matter all that much? Maybe it does to some people, but wrestling isn't math. 

Wrestling is, however, broken.  

More than just about any fictional medium out there, it has an antagonistic fanbase. It's not about real vs fake. It's not about working people and kayfabe. But it was for a long time, and as wrestling fans trended older, as the product became more niche, more about itself than real life human issues, it became all the more essential for those remaining fans to feel like they were smart, to be above it all, to not compare themselves to the people screaming and shouting and letting themselves get caught up in the moment. 

The social contract between performer and audience broke. 

I'm not saying that wrestling is the only medium with a spoiler culture or people obsessing over box office or fans nitpicking every thing. It's 2026 and we're in an age of social media and that's a lot of things now. Wrestling’s more interactive than most others, however, and it asks more of the live audience. And that live audience today are the heirs of the 80s sheet writers and readers, the ones that looked down upon people who cheered for Hogan or Dusty, who were self-conscious about their hobby, the hobby that they put so much time and effort into. The rise of the internet let that mentality spread like a disease. The end of WCW and rise of MMA peeled off a lot of the more casual fanbase. And then social media brought people closer to the wrestlers allowing the Elite to use irony to get over by tossing the suspension of disbelief to the wayside and creating a relationship with the fanbase, showing everyone the strings all the time so they could feel nice and comfortable and superior. 

All this led to a shift in how matches were worked and a shift in the reward structure. The super indy style became more prevalent as was mimicking bloated Japanese style epics. Getting star ratings or high cagematch scores became more important in getting over. Hitting viral spots might get you over the top. Yes, we're seeing it in all forms of entertainment and hearing stories about how people can't get cast unless they have a certain amount of Instagram followers because movies can't be greenlit unless some total number is reached. But because of the interactive nature of wrestling, the end product shows it all the more. It’s become an endless race to a sensational bottom, nothing allowed to breathe, nothing allowed to sink in, nothing allowed to resonate. Everything has to be so awesome and overwhelming that nothing can actually move people and force them to feel.

Which brings us back to Max and what he has left to prove.

He says he’s a generational talent, says that he wants a legacy, to be remembered as one of the best ever. We’re in a quantitative checkbox world. How many spots? How many counters? How many kickouts? How many likes, retweets, views? And he can be one of the best at that. We’ve seen it. He’s proven it. He’s proven it too many times, actually, because it never seems to take with the fanbase and that just drives him to prove it again, just so it won’t take again. He can be another number in a world of numbers.

Or he can leverage his push, his track record, his spot, his skill, his success outside wrestling, and prove that one last thing.

He can save pro wrestling. He can reset the balance. He can make people WANT to feel again, to value it.

What an uphill battle he faces. Look at this match. He’s in there against Bandido, one of the best babyfaces in the world, with a real, true connection to the crowd, who lets himself be earnest and heartfelt, but look at what he had against him? The crowd he’s in front of. Not only have they been watching years of this stuff, following it online, living and breathing it, but on this very show they’d already seen a Darby Allin car crash trainwreck match with some bumps that should be highlights for the entire decade AND a crazy multi-team tag full of coordinated, collaborative, over the top spots. Moreover, he has Bandido himself to face, because for as wonderful Bandido is, his finisher, the 21-plex, is one of the most disruptive moves in pro wrestling, forcing his opponent to move into a spot that he’d never be in for any other match. Feeling is about immersion, and nothing breaks immersion quite like that. 

Max would have to wrestle basically a perfect match, a perfect performance in order to make this work, to save the crowd from itself, to save wrestling from itself, and quite frankly, to save him from himself and his own need to prove once again everything that’s already been proven and not the one thing that he still needs to prove the most. 

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Every detail mattered. That’s half the battle here. The other half is selflessness, confidence, channeling the spirit of Terry Funk to throw yourself fully into every moment, to make every moment seem to matter, not necessarily to the story or to history, but to the wrestler in the ring. Everything has consequence, physical but especially emotional. If the wrestlers care, the fans will care. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but over time. 

The fans were split to start, behind Bandido but willing to chant for MJF. They sang along to his theme song. So he immediately disengaged and told them to shut up. That turned them immediately.They weren’t going to get rewarded by MJF, no pat on the head, no playing along, nothing to latch on to. That would continue. 

The early feeling out process hits the right marks. MJF underestimates Bandido early, stepping over a dropdown and playing around with Eddy Guerrero’s mannerisms, with Ric Flair’s. That builds up the pressure for him to get outwrestled by Bandido. Bandido punctuates it with the finger gun. MJF responds with an eyerake. The fans boo. This is Act I. The characters are being established. The stage is being set.

MJF runs into a press slam and stumbles into 21-plex position, hands on the second rope, crouching. It’s the gun in Bandido’s holster, Chekhov’s Gun, and by going to that position early and often, by setting it up as a possibility at multiple points, it becomes more believable, more strategic even. Was MJF trying to lure Bandido in? Had he actually stumbled there? Other matches, other sequences couldn’t be controlled, but this match could be. Regardless, here MJF rolls to the outside, just a tease, and walks away from Bandido’s first dive attempt, tapping his head, showing his superiority, making it impossible, only to walk right into a second dive attempt. MJF gives the fans nothing. Bandido gives them everything. MJF shows himself to be despicable, arrogant, cowardly and gets instant retribution. And the fans? They don’t chant this is awesome. They chant for Bandido instead.

Bandido is giving the crowd everything. MJF tries to stall on the apron and Bandido doesn’t give him an inch. There’s a cost to that though. It lets MJF take over on the arm, to introduce the wedge that will help drive the narrative of the first half of the match. MJF hits a pumphandle facebuster. But then he lets it breath, walking it off, interacting with the crowd. He chokes in the corner. The fans boo and he leans into that booing, amplifying it. More than that, he sets up a logical hope spot. There’s an ebb and flow. Bandido tries to fight out of the corner. MJF uses the arm to cut him off. MJF taunts Bandido and the crowd by teasing the Macarena. That lets Bandido fight back again. MJF cuts him off, hits a shoulder breaker, basks more, gets a reaction. All emotional responses. All character driven. All structurally sound. Wrestling isn’t math. Sometimes it’s physics, and here pressure is building and letting off only to build all the more. This has time to live and breathe and worm its way into the hearts and souls of the crowd.

They make the most of the commercial break. MJF throws Bandido arm first into the corner, hammerlocked. He goes for it again. Bandido turns it around and starts the ten punches in the corner. Interactive. MJF cuts him off at nine as he was hyping up ten, stealing the candy from the fans. He hits an inverted atomic drop and jams the arm. The fans chant for Bandido. Back from break, he goes for the Three Amigos. It’s always a borderline face spot when Mercedes does it, but there’s no joy in MJF’s heart. It’s a sheer insult. Bandido blocks the third and starts firing back. MJF tries to cut him off, can’t. The crowd expects Bandido to reverse it clean, but MJF bites him. The crowd boos, thinking they weren’t going to get their reward once again, but Bandido, leaning into his strength powers through.

This is where they start twisting and inverting things. MJF avoids the 21-plex again, but Bandido reverses the Salt of the Earth. It all builds to a huge moment where MJF thinks himself safe by retreating back over the barricade but Bandido dives from the top all the way over it, defying MJF’s cowardice, defying that sense that he could prevent the fans from getting what they wanted. Bandido is brave, courageous, a man of the people, a folk hero, and he goes above and beyond to ensure justice is done.

From here they continue to invert, continue to escalate. Everything that had happened so far in Act I (defining the characters and the tone) and Act II (MJF controlling with the arm and the hope spots and cutoffs) set the stage for things boiling over here into a hot extended finishing stretch. There’s one moment after MJF turns Bandido jamming the Heatseeker pile driver into a pulling cutter that the fans chant Fight Forever, but it’s not many and it soon fades. Why? Because MJF went back to the well and tried it again only for Bandido to get the best of him. He selflessly stooged and showed vulnerability to disrupt the fans even thinking of treating this like a 50-50 scenario.

They move into big spots and roll-ups and nearfalls, keeping things exciting, cashing in all of the emotional capital they invested in the first two acts of the match. After so many teases and lures, Bandido finally hits the 21-plex, but can’t hold the bridge given his arm. MJF goes for the Salt of the Earth but turns the reversal into a LeBell Lock (which Danielson on commentary lets slip, emotionally, as a Yes Lock in a great accidental call; he was just as engaged as the crowd, a testament to him and the match). Bandido passes out. MJF wins, but still manages to sell, seeing Bandido as a threat too dang the emotional weight post-match, seeing Bandido as too dangerous to let live and attacking after the bell, only for Brody King to make the save.

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One slip from one part of the crowd, but in general, it worked. Max and Bandido controlled for the 21-plex, survived the carcrash and spotfest before them, kept the crowd, gave everyone a memorable moment, and made people feel. They can go back to this again later, build it not bigger but deeper. Bandido came out better than he came in. Max came out better than he came in. Wrestling, I think, came out better than it came in. But it’s one step on a road and there’s so far left to go.

Why do I think that this on Max? Why not Fletcher? Why not Ricochet? Why not FTR? They can and should be part of it. They need to be part of it. But to me, it’s needs to be him. Because he’s on top and has the freedom. Because he’s a student of the game and as such understands what has been lost. Because he had that taste of Arena Mexico. Because he clearly feels alive when the fans are booing him. Because this is what he has left to prove. He can’t do it alone, but he can help change the incentives. He can help convince wrestlers that this is something they want to be a part of, that it won’t be career sabotage, even if maybe, just maybe, there’s one three quarters of a star less in it for them. 

He can help convince crowds that this is something they want to experience. They don’t have to be fooled into believing that it’s real. They can be convinced that it’s worthwhile to come and be part of the experience, to boo the heels and cheer for faces and embrace the text for its own sake once again without trying to force themselves above it or feel self conscious about it. Like if they went to a movie. Like if they watched a TV show. Like if they read a book.

I’ve felt that way in the past, that need to be a part of something. I get the notion. I wanted to see Black and Gold NXT live, to be part of that. I went to the 2015 Royal Rumble mainly so I could do the Yes! Chants at least once. I think fans can be convinced that it’s not just about seeing a big spot or athleticism or witnessing a 5.25 star match (or sing along to the songs and pavlovianly respond to catch phrases like in the other place), but instead being part of this unique emotionally gripping live experience that they can’t get anywhere else. 

They can do it with open eyes and leave their troubles at the door and Max can help show them that it’s worth it, that even in 2026, it’s worth being genuine and not ironic, that not everything’s a meme or a gif.

Unlike one house and one buyrate and one match, it’s the work of a lifetime, the work of a generation. But there’s no greater legacy he could possibly have.