AEW Five Fingers of Death 4/6 - 4/12 Part 2

AEW Dynasty 4/12/26

Darby Allin vs Andrade

MD: There's something to say for implicit storytelling in pro wrestling. You find it in Stan Hansen matches. You see it in shoot-style. Two characters. Two sets of attributes. Two histories. Two motivations. Two styles. One ring. A chemical reaction where things make sense because of two wrestlers being absolutely true to who they are, because things could not possibly play out any other way. You're not looking at conventional storytelling, but instead at fate, at nature playing its inevitable course. 

You're not going to learn who Andrade and Darby are from promos. You won't learn from video packages or media appearances. You won't even learn from Darby's artistically produced stunt films. With these two, you learn everything you need to know from watching them in the ring.

So who are they? They are two men whose greatest strengths are also their greatest weaknesses and their greatest weaknesses are also their greatest strengths.

Darby is undersized, but his shadow looms. You might say he's brave. You might say he's fearless. You might say he lacks common sense. Were you to say that he lacks substance, you might not be far off, but maybe, just maybe, that's what makes him constantly exist on the edge. Maybe he's never found anything else to make him feel alive. While he's a skilled and clever wrestler, that wouldn't be enough to survive in a world of relative giants, so he turns his body into a weapon and relies, bolstered by both experience and blind faith (contradictory as that may be) that his body will withstand whatever the world throws at it, even himself.

Andrade is a third-generation wrestler. He's been everywhere and done so many things. He doesn't have to push up against the darkness to feel alive; he's life incarnate, brash, bold, confident. He started his career as Brillante, Jr., and then made his career as Sombra. Light and darkness, he's seen it all. He carries himself that way, swagger driving his offense, dynamic and explosive. He would not be half the wrestler if he didn't lean so thoroughly into it, even if that means he pauses to hang in the ropes, even if that means he extracts himself from the action to take a picture with a fan in the first row. 

So that's who they are, a little of what they need in life, but what do they want here? The winner gets a title shot. What does that mean to them? 

Darby came into this claiming that he cared more than anyone. I don't actually think that's true, but I think, to the character of Darby Allin, it needs to be true, and the only way for it to be true, is for him to make it real. Everyone else cares about Everest (well, not wrestling fans), so if he climbed it, obviously he cared too right? Everyone cares about the world title, so if he claims it, then he must care too. He must care about something other than that momentary thrill. He must be a real boy. There must be substance to him. Unable to tap into the journey, all he can do is cling to the destination. 

And then there's Andrade. He's always been one for association, and here he's associated with Don Callis. A mouthpiece. I don't think he's looking for brotherhood in the way Kyle Fletcher does. But having been burned before, having been underutilized and unable to prove himself, he was looking for representation. It came at a cost. And now he was being used as a bargaining chip, as a mercenary, to keep Darby away from MJF. It chafes. It's not enough for Andrade to succeed; he must succeed as himself, leaning into the swagger, embracing the role, to prove to everyone that he can be the person he wants to be, that he wants to see in a selfie, if not a mirror, and still be a champion. 

Like any other form of fiction (and wrestling is a form of fiction even if it has athletic elements and live interactive qualities), structures and frameworks can help pro wrestling feel coherent and meaningful. Things work very well if you have a heel and a babyface, a shine with moments of heel triumph before comeuppance, heat with hope spots and cutoffs, and a comeback leading into a finishing stretch. But if the characters are strong enough, consistent enough, committed enough, compelling enough, a match can be carried without these things.

That meant that while this was close to 50-50, or at least 60-40 (Andrade), and had elements of your move/my move, the momentum shifts between your move and my move tended to be character driven, organic, meaningful, resonant. They were based on the opportunities created by the wrestlers' attributes and skill and likewise created by the weaknesses tied to them.

Andrade dodged Darby early by hitting a tranquilo pose in the ropes. Darby crashed right into him like a wrecking ball in response. He couldn't capitalize because of the damage done to him in that process and Andrade reversed a whip into the barricade. Instead of following up, Andrade took a selfie, letting Darby hit a dive off the top. Darby followed it by hitting a dropkick down the arena stairs, but he hurt himself and thus, when back in the ring, when he slammed his own body into Andrade, he faltered and buckled (selling in a meaningful way, not a performative, box checking one; this both was consequence and created consequence), and Andrade was able to take over.

The match continued on like that. Where it became 60-40 instead of 50-50 was because of Andrade's strength advantage and a chess move here or there. Andrade took an extra few seconds to pull his pants off before going for the moonsault, but he was ready for Darby to move (one of the few times where his double moonsault, unfortunately done in every match, felt organic). That meant Darby had to try all the harder, including hitting a crazy crucifix takeover off the top as a reversal, right into a hold. 

They continued on like this, Andrade locking in, Darby battered but undaunted, until Darby was able to survive Andrade's abrupt spinning back elbow and sneak out a "Last Supper" bridging pin to win. Post-match, pride bruised but undiminished, Andrade went back to shake Darby's hand. He had more to prove but nothing to be ashamed of. Darby, on the other hand, now has to live with the burden of success, of being the number one contender. Now he has to show both the world and himself just what is truly inside of him. Is he just a mindlessly determined crash test dummy or is there a fully fleshed out human being capable of caring and worthy of regard and admiration inside of him after all? The stories that pro wrestling can tell.

It was almost seventeen minutes that felt like a brisk ten. They teased finishers but didn't truly hit them. They left with mutual respect for one another, Andrade refusing to do anyone else's dirty work, wrestling only for himself. There's more left on the bone for a rematch. There were big spots and huge bumps, but this was character-driven and tightly-focused, especially for a match that was so evenly fought. You don't think of a Darby Allin match as showing discipline and restraint but this did. There wasn't a single spot which felt out of place, contrived, or worked back from instead of worked towards. Which meant, of course, that it worked brilliantly, both despite itself and because of itself.

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AEW Five Fingers of Death (And Friends) 10/20 - 10/26

AEW Dynamite 10/22/25

Jon Moxley vs. Kyle O'Reilly

MD: Jon Moxley has mouths to feed.

He's got bodies to stack up. He's got things to prove. He's a strongman with an army. But that army needs to eat. He's convinced them that it's the post-apocalypse, that it's kill or be killed. 

And he went and got himself killed. He lost his title. He won a battle against Darby Allin but not the war. And there, in the center of the ring, he was made to quit. 

He feels the wolves nipping at his heels. He's supposed to be the wolf. He'd been the wolf with his back against the wall but then the wall fell in on him. Now they're behind him, getting ever closer. Now forget wolves. The chickens are coming home to roost. 

But he's still Jon Moxley. He's a barefist fighter. He's a bloodspot warrior. He's a submission scrapper. He's the best at what he does. And there's opportunity around every corner.

Kyle O'Reilly is a perfect opportunity. He represents everything Moxley claims to hate, everything that he rails against, the world that he's trying to destroy. O'Reilly has all the tools, all the training, all the skills, all the fight, but a weak liver, a tender heart. He wants to sit on a couch and make funny videos with his friends, wants a cheesy sitcom theme song, wants to make faces for memes as Mark Briscoe comes up with the word of the day. All this instead of being a champion. He's everything the BCC was created to stamp out and everything the Death Riders were escalated to burn to ashes.

So he faces him in the middle of the ring. He scraps with him on the mat. And he comes up lacking. O'Reilly wrestles him even and then takes it a step further, flying over into a cross arm breaker, outwrestling him. Moxley immediately grinds his heel into O'Reilly's face, bites at his ear, stomps his hand on the steel steps. So what if he got outwrestled. So what if he even got outstriked. He's Jon Moxley and he'd outrough him, would punish him for his foolishness, his temerity. 

But Mox wanted it too badly. He needed it too badly. He overextended, went sailing over the top rope, ended up on a chair with O'Reilly's feet slamming into his jaw. 

Even that's okay, though. Because he's Jon Moxley and finishing stretches are where he rules supreme. That last bit of a fight, one last gasp, one last takedown. A pile driver. A lock in of that bulldog choke, using his strength, leaning into his toughness, riding over, pressing down. O'Reilly kicks out, putting up a fight, but that's okay too. That'd just make Moxley look stronger in victory like he had so many times.

Except for that's not what happened. This isn't the same Jon Moxley. This is a Jon Moxley that's bleeding out, that feels those wolves getting ever closer, that can hear the rumbling of his men's stomachs, and that knows it's only a matter of time before he starts looking less like predator and more like prey. 

O'Reilly has an answer to everything Moxley throws at him. He snatches an ankle lock. He crashes down off the top rope with a stomp onto the leg. He is unrelenting. No smiles. No funny faces. No laughter. Instead, everything Moxley claimed he wanted out of him, wanted out of his competition, wanted out of AEW. Mox didn't want it all that much anymore, did he? 

He felt it all slipping away and so he did the only thing he could. He pulled himself to one foot, the other grasped, twisted, contorted. He used the referee to pull himself up and then, instead of quitting, he overturned the board, smashing the ref, drawing the DQ. One might say that he took fate into his own hands, but then surrender manifests itself in many forms, doesn't it? 

What a performance then from these two. What a complex, desperate, human story that they told through our beloved, rarely stretched and rarely challenged, all too comfortable and familiar medium of pro wrestling. There were strands of Hemmingway here: short, stilted sentences, the depravity of humanity, a man at the very end of his rope. 

What's really exciting though, even more than what they were able to accomplish here, is that Moxley hasn't even begun to hit bottom yet.

There's more to come.

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AEW Five Fingers of Death (and Friends) 3/31 - 4/6

AEW Dynasty 4/6/25

Daniel Garcia vs Adam Cole

MD: Let's go back to Full Gear. It was a night of misery and destruction, where babyface hope came to die in the main event as Orange Cassidy, who the company had rallied around as a leader and who had finally found the strength inside to stand tall failed to defeat Jon Moxley. The one bright spot at the bottom of Pandora's Box, however, was Daniel Garcia defeating Jack Perry and winning the TNT title. The post match was brisk moving, but we were left with the image of Garcia, draped with the AEW flag around his neck, belt in hand, walking to the back in triumph.

Immediately thereafter, we started to see something new out of Garcia. He had resigned with the company, albeit without the braggadocious fanfare of MJF and his tattoo. He was going to be a fighting champion, one that could anchor Collision. He reached to the crowd for support, sometimes literally, began using the ten-count punch like stalwart babyfaces of the past. He was a shining, glowing counterbalance to the New Heel army who were trying to get heat instead of just getting themselves over, guys like Fletcher, Ricochet, Okada, Blake Christian, Lee Johnson. 

He was the one holding up that other side of the scale; maybe with Briscoe, maybe with Hobbs, maybe with someone like Hologram, but it was mostly Garcia with a clear path forward. 

And what happened then? He did what he was asked to do. He anchored Collision. He had solid match after solid match, solid babyface performance after solid babyface performance. But look at the opponents they gave him: Mark Briscoe, Shibata, a three way with O'Reilly and Moriarty, and then on to Adam Cole. It was criminal to some degree. Yes, it was good to beat these people, but he needed heels lined up to knock down. Sometimes making a match that is going to be "good" isn't enough. "Goodness" isn't the same as vision. Garcia had the crowd behind him. Garcia was trying new things pulled out of times past, things that would have worked, that would have established themselves in the hearts of the fans, that could have worked against all of these new heels, all the way up to Mox. He could have been Misawa to Mox's Jumbo. But it needed time to grow and develop and for a crowd that hadn't seen it in years (and some of them having never seen it) to be able to latch on to and understand. 

And he was left, in the end, against Adam Cole again and again. Adam Cole might be the nicest guy in the world, but as a wrestler, as a heel, he's a cool heel, and as a face, he's a cool face. Nothing really gets to him. Nothing registers. His promo explaining why he betrayed MJF was the least apologetic, least likable promo I've heard in a very long time. He didn't take responsibility for his actions. He didn't admit even the possibility that he was wrong. He just doubled down on everything he did and their program was a disaster because of it. If he just channeled his own personal vulnerability instead of a Michaels-esque sort of self-conscious need to be above it all, he could be the top guy that people always thought he could be. He could really connect with the fans. But instead he puts on a mask, and will always ever only be (occasionally) the guy that wrestles the guy for one program.

The nicest thing I can say about this match is that it did channel all of the above, and Garcia, being as good as he is, was able to channel a lot of it in a manner which felt in character, even though you can blur the lines thinking about all of the above. You can make it so Garcia, the character, was the dragonslayer, the guy who wanted to be a new hero, to face all the cheaters and underhanded villains of the world and who was instead put up against people that the crowd backed. He was a fighting champion, so that was fine, but he wanted to carry the AEW banner against the people really doing the damage and they were keeping him away from all that. 

You can see him as someone who watched that Adam Cole promo, who had faced MJF himself and managed to fight him without losing his own standards. Yes, he escalated things with the top rope pile driver, but that was different than striking from behind and behind a mask. And now he had to stand tall against Cole, this disingenuous, untrustworthy, unrepentant (and Garcia, with his background and how he carries himself is someone who, like Eddie Kingston, seems to know a thing or two about repentance) scoundrel, who gets shot after shot on goal while the fans sing along to his catch phrase without really giving second thought to his actions. Garcia had to work for everything and Cole, even though he worked his way back from injury after injury, was never gracious about it, and instead made it seem like that was enough, like he deserved it all because of it. And the fans were split at best?

So Garcia, in the match, got more and more aggressive, strayed from the light, and in doing so, lost his way and fell. When what's happening in the ring correlates to what happens outside, it can be incredibly compelling. And I see that with Garcia now. He wanted to be something pure and good, wanted to represent a new, better AEW, one without all of the irony, one where deeds and words mattered, where actions had consequence, one with honor. And he was never truly given the chance, ultimately felled by a cool face who was the exact opposite of what he was trying to represent, and then he had to shake his hand anyway? Where does he go from there? Does he sink into villainy? Does he become just as bad as everyone around him? Does he stop caring and become jaded? Or does he redouble his efforts and find a purity of heart that help him give people hope in very, very dark times indeed. 

It's unfortunate that what he was primed to become wasn't fully capitalized on, but there's still an opportunity now for something special, because as entertaining and refreshing it has been to see heels that are willing to get heat, that are willing to serve the match and the company instead of just themselves, that are fearless and daring and push to make every action mean something instead of just hit clean and look cool, there needs to be babyfaces that can take advantage of that to help move hearts and minds. And Garcia was willing, was trying, was even starting to succeed. There's a feeling out there that still needs restoring, now more than ever, and it's not the feeling of 2019 or 2021. Where does he go from here, a good man that briefly lost sight of his true north and lost all that he had fought for because of it, trapped in a world that he didn't make? I don't know about the rest of you, but that's something I want to find out.

Kyle Fletcher vs Mark Briscoe

MD: There's nothing in wrestling I'm enjoying more right now than the first few minutes of a Kyle Fletcher match. He's bold and fearless, a wonderfully confident and selfless stooging heel. The more selfless he is, the more over the top, the more willing to look the fool, the more he comes off like a star and the more over he gets. And this match, unfortunately, likely because it wanted to hang with the rest of the PPV card and start from a more "elevated" place of action, tossed that entirely out the window. 

From a story perspective, it did make sense for Kyle to begin with a dive. He had lost two of his previous matches with Briscoe. He knew how dangerous it was. They went right on to apron spots (albeit with some fun vocalization by Fletcher) and then Briscoe going for the chair (with a great moment of Mark telling the fans to boo the ref when he stopped him). That all made sense in character. For the sake of the match, it was about getting a hot spot and feeling PPV worthy. I think that was a mistake. While the show had some fun stuff overall (like the headslapping bit with Ricochet which was one imaginative sequence out of 20 in that match), contrast makes the world goes round and five minutes of Fletcher stooging and stalling and letting things sink in at the start would have stood out far more on this card and would have stayed with people far more than the aforementioned 'hot start.'

What it did allow, perhaps, was Fletcher to really take his time on the heat. I saw people complain about Moxley's "plodding" heat segment in the main event and I honestly that was pretty good with how he moved from one hold to the next smoothly and worked the wound. But even if that isn't for everyone, Fletcher's approach is more engaging. He has big pieces of offense and then he milks them after the fact, really posing and preening and playing to the crowd and let it all sink in until his theatrics lets Briscoe come back and Fletcher cuts him off with something big again, going right back to the preening. It's less, but it lets each thing that actually hits, already impressive on its own, mean so, so much more than if he had just went from spot to spot to spot. No one in AEW is really letting everything sink in quite like he does and if they couldn't have both the early match stooging AND the time-taking in the heat, then I guess it's good that they gave us at least one of the two. 

It worked down the stretch as well, as they threw bomb after bomb and they really, truly needed the weight of Briscoe being so hurt that he couldn't capitalize after, for instance, the cutthroat driver. That became believable because the weight of what happened during Fletcher's control segment and so much of that resonated because Fletcher was so engaged and engaging throughout it. But I think this could have even been better if they did 1/3rd less down the stretch and reallocated some of that time to an opening third where Fletcher could have stalled and posed and used his new tearaway pants and gotten some early shine comeuppance from Briscoe.

AEW Collision 4/5/25

Athena/Julia Hart vs Mercedes Mone/Harley Cameron (Parejas Increibles)

MD: This wasn't actually a parejas increibles match, but at the same time, it really, truly was. Athena and Julia Hart, despite celebrating together after the match was over, were absolutely strange bedfellows. This wasn't Julia and Sky hanging in the ropes together pre-match. It wasn't Athena and Billie (or Diamante currently) with meanstreak MIT appeal up against Ronda Rousey and Marina Shafir (what a fever dream that was). Harley and Mercedes did get it and were allowed it in the build to this, but the circle wasn't squared and all the pieces didn't quite fit together. 

That's not to say both Athena and Julia didn't get individual moments. There was a palpable buzz even from a very exhausted double taping crowd whenever Athena and Mercedes shared a ring. Julia's comeback against Mercedes when she lifted up out of the tree of woe was memorable, especially for Mercedes' bump. Very on point for Julia. It's just that they never quite came together and interacted the way you would have wanted to. A parejas increibles match is all about those interactions, the weird mix of alchemy of putting these robust, dynamic, larger than life characters in situations they wouldn't normally be in.

And it's important to make the most of that, because there are some natural shortcomings. In lucha, you often see partners refuse to cooperate to the point of a match breaking down or one rudo helping his opponents instead of his partner, and while that can be chaotic, it doesn't exactly lend to compelling narratives over time (like over the entire CMLL Parejas Increibles Tournament for instance).  Here, the problem was one of sympathy. Julia and Athena are tweeners at best with Athena being positioned as an outright heel on ROH TV. The Hounds of Hell have been babyfaces this year but Julia is maybe less of one depending on who she's facing. Harley is clearly a babyface; not only is she a babyface but she's one of the most sympathetic ones in the company, up there with Orange Cassidy and Mark Briscoe, beloved. 

Here she was expected to help Mercedes work over Julia, and the fans, on one level, would be glad for her when Mercedes accepted her and praised her, but on the other, it all made it tough for the Julia/Athena team to get sympathy. I think this situation would have been hard for anyone on the roster let alone two wrestlers (in Julia and Harley) that had around 150 matches under their belt between them. In a company that's so good at coming up with clever spots and set pieces, I do wish sometimes they'd pause and think about what the most interesting squeezing out of characters and interactions would be in any situation, that could put more emphasis on character motivations and how they feel about what's before them and the broader world. That would have helped Julia here and it probably would have helped Harley too. This was a good effort and an entertaining match (with a great, if muddled, comeback moment with the puppet), but I think in a situation like this, there's still so much more that could be mined with just a little more thought behind it all.

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AEW Five Fingers of Death 12/23 - 12/29

AEW Dynamite 12/25/24

Darby Allin vs. Ricochet

It was a Christmas miracle. 

Ricochet hit a 630 senton from the top through a table to the floor onto Darby Allin in the Hammerstein Ballroom in front of the smarkiest fans imaginable and there was no This is Awesome chant. There was no AEW chant. There was no Fight Forever or Both These Guys. There was concern for Darby Allin. There was jeering for Ricochet and his antics after the fact. There was a face and there was a heel and there was a clear preference from the crowd that one wrestler beat another. The fans were invested in something other than the idea of perceived greatness. They were responding to the action unveiling before their eyes in real time, but more than that, they were moved by the consequences of that action. If that's not a pro wrestling miracle here at the end of 2024, in front of this crowd, after a spot like that, with a wrestler like Ricochet who I'd never imagine it possible six months ago, I don't know what would be.

Stooging is an investment. It's a means to an end. Just like everything else in a match. It generates heat. It creates a pressure for the heel to get what's coming to him. It builds it up and when it's paid off, there's a feeling of gratification and justification. It shouldn't be done for its own sake just like nothing else should be done for its own sake. It can also be considered an investment because it does have a cost. It takes the place of more conventional, traditional action. There are critics who will stack demerits onto a match for it. But this was such an amazing demonstration of its power. 

Ricochet started the match by complaining about a hairpull in the corner, Ricochet being the baldest man alive. When Paul Turner cried foul, he immediately went to the tights as if Darby pulled them, changing his story. As Darby had him in headlocks, he made faces as he strained, mugged. He eventually slipped out by using the baldness as a tool and then celebrating as if he'd truly accomplished something special. He was consistently on, hitting flashy spots after he had taken control with a cheapshot in the corner, but the immediately rubbing it in the crowd's face. 

The match had a second, smaller miracle, one of the best, most fortuitous hope spots of the year. The crowd has started throwing toilet paper at him (the sort of streamers a heel like him, so full of himself, deserves). If not for safety and clean-up concerns, I half think they should have Swerve debut toilet paper with Ricochet's face on it that they sell in the arenas. Maybe it's worth it despite all that. Anyway, the hope spot was Darby sweeping a distracted Ricochet's feet off the apron. But what made it all come together was that there was a roll of toilet paper on the apron and Ricochet made it so the distraction was due to him throwing it back into the balcony. They couldn't have possibly planned for that but it call came together perfectly (Ricochet was constantly "on"), as did the cutoff where Ricochet cruelly slammed Darby's back in the post, giving the fans absolutely nothing to like about him. 

So when Ricochet hit the 630, they absolutely didn't have to "give it to him", or celebrate how wonderful AEW was in general. They were honed in on how much they hated him, how much they loved Darby, how worried they were for him, how much they wanted to cheer for him and how much they wanted him to stop Ricochet from making it to the semi-finals of the tournament. There's not one right way to do pro wrestling, but there's not any one way quite as right as that. 

There's a change in the air in AEW: with Fletcher, with Ricochet, with Okada, even guys like Takeshita. They're more willing to look vulnerable, to stooge, to be something other than cool athletic marvels who go 50-50 with the most exciting matches they can possibly have. It's unlocking tools left long dusty and the crowds are reacting. The reaction for Fletcher vs Benjamin and Fletcher vs Okada was nothing short of remarkable, and the reaction here for Ricochet vs Darby was, as I noted, miraculous. 

Don't get me wrong. I think in a match like Ospreay vs Komander or Ospreay vs Dante Martin (or even Ospreay vs Okada as the finals of the C2, even if it's not the match I would have chosen; instead I would have had another five minutes of Okada working the leg after Ospreay got stuck in it as a second heat and then built to an even bigger comeback), it's a great sign of success to have those This is Awesome chants. However, you don't want that when there's a clear heel doing fiendish and underhanded things. You don't want that when there's a wrestler the fans are supposed to dislike and ideally pay money to see lose, or at least to revel in their losing after they've already paid money for the AEW experience. 

In a situation with a clear heel/face dynamic, a This is Awesome chant isn't necessarily a sign of success. It's a sign that the fans aren't engaged in the storyline being told and are instead enjoying things in their own way; if that's the case, then why are you even trying to tell the story in the first place. In that case, it becomes something done for the sake of it, waste and to some degree, a failure. 

But this match right here is proof positive that by leaning into the old ways, of having the heel stooge and be as unlikable as possible, even when they do escalate down the stretch, the fans are going to be not just entertained, but also invested (as the stooging itself is an investment) in the actual outcome of the match and in the face overcoming and the heel getting his. It's still possible in 2024, and it's another, incredibly potent tool in AEW's toolbelt, one that create an even more engaged and loyal fanbase. 

So no, maybe this wasn't a miracle. It was an experiment, a hypothesis. 

It was proof.

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AEW Five Fingers of Death 4/15 - 4/21

AEW Dynasty 4/21/24

Bryan Danielson vs. Will Ospreay

MD: I've had RVD on my mind lately. They used him on the 4/20 Rampage. I haven't gotten to that yet. There's been a lot of wrestling to watch and I only caught the back half of Rampage so far because it more directly led into the PPV. I'll go back for it and for Yuka vs Emi because it sounds like an amazing Emi performance in difficult circumstances. When I think about RVD, though, I think about his PPV match with Benoit. I haven't rewatched it in decades and I have no desire to now, so bear with my memories. You have to understand what it was like to be a fan on the internet in the late 90s and early 00s. Benoit wasn't just a wrestler. He was a representation of a counterculture, of a certain sort of identity. He was put up on a pedestal. We put him there. He represented everything we thought we wanted wrestling to be; if wrestling was just that, we would feel good about ourselves for being fans of it. The match, as I remember it, was a disaster. Benoit did what he generally was supposed to, worked over a body part for the entirety of the heat. RVD no sold it on his comeback. Of course he did. We were furious. At the time, we blamed RVD. Twenty years later, it's obvious that the blame should go to Benoit for structuring a match that not only RVD wouldn't play along with, but that, if he had, would have actively blunted what made him special.

To some degree, that was Danielson's challenge here. The "dream match" portion of Danielson vs Ospreay was always going to be the high octane back-third: the counters, the finishing stretch, and harnessing Ospreay's physicality and athleticism in ways that only Danielson's mind could devise that would play into the weight of the crowd's expectations and the importance of Bryan Danielson in history and in people's hearts. While it might make sense strategically in character to target Ospreay's leg, it would have kneecapped the match and frustrated people one way or the other; either he would have dropped the selling (believably or not, probably not) or he would have sold and worked the finishing stretch at half speed leaving people who wanted the full Ospreay experience disappointed. So they built it by targeting the side instead. The announcers mentioned ribs or the liver, but to me, it was purely a wind issue. Danielson caught him as he was coming off the top with a kick. It took the wind out of Ospreay. Danielson was therefore able to control and contain and focus the middle section of the match, using gut shots to open up Ospreay's face, prying at the legs or twisting the fingers, but doing overall damage instead of limiting Ospreay's motion. When he recovered, it was a matter of timing and opportunity, of recovering his wind because of a lucky, skillful shot or two or some amazing feat of agility like landing on his feet out of the top rope 'rana. Then, later on, Danielson honed in on the arm, in part to set up the LeBell lock. It's easier for Ospreay to limit his upper body motion than his lower body motion and he adapted accordingly. He dropped it for a bit when it did no harm to the narrative and brought it back in a key moment when it could help it. I saw early criticism of the match attack his selling, but I didn't see it. It worked for me, but it worked primarily because it was set up to go with the flow and to not limit him in the ways that mattered for the expectations of the match while still allowing Danielson to be in control and the match to have shape and form. Danielson worked to Ospreay's strengths and minimized his weaknesses. 

What was far, far harder to work with was this crowd. When you see even the most excited crowd, a crowd that is buzzing and chanting away, they usually react to the actual action in the ring. That's true even in the early stages of matches. A clean break will garner applause. A slap instead will give you either boos or oohs. A wrenching hold will draw one reaction when it's put on and another when it's escaped, and then back to the chanting and buzzing they'll go. The "This is Awesome" or "AEW" or "Both These Guys" chants will come at the end of a sequence during the standoff. That wasn't at all the case here. These two were feeling one another out in front of the loudest vacuum I'd ever seen. They would chant whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, even and especially over meaningful emotional beats. This crowd was drunk on the idea of a dream match regardless of what was occurring. They were celebrating the finishing third before the match had even begun. It didn't get better even once they got going. Danielson took a nasty bump off an apron exchange and they were setting up Ospreay hitting a hidden blade from the apron to the floor while Bryce was trying to steady him. It was hugely important to the overall story of the match given the eventual finish. Meanwhile, the fans were chanting "We're Not Worthy!" For the first two-thirds of the match, the crowd was unquestionably excited, but the wrestlers didn't have the crowd. Whatever they were doing, no matter how good it was, no matter how smartly it was put together to be the best of the both of them combined, to be better than the sum of their parts, it wasn't compelling enough to guide and control a crowd that was there so that it could have bragging rights about seeing one of the best matches ever. It wasn't a case of looking to the back for the entire match waiting for a run-in; instead it was looking to the future, to that last third, and taking for granted what was actually happening.

And, of course, that last third was absolutely excellent. If the first two-thirds were, in part, to minimize Ospreay's weakness, that last third completely highlighted his strengths. Danielson was able to push himself up to new heights for specific spots by pressing off against Ospreay's athleticism. Things like the Mistica LeBell lock or the top rope Tiger Suplex or the Busaiku Knee counter to the Oscutter were out of this world and stand up to any spot in any Danielson match ever. By that point, the fans were completely tuned in. I'm not sure we've ever quite heard the "Yes-No" chants as they manifested here and they were just the soundtrack the last third of the match called for. Then there was the finish, which to me was absolutely perfect. At the end of the day, that's how the match had been presented: Danielson was a legend but Ospreay was younger, faster, hungrier. So at high noon, after a war that neither man had been able to win, they had an old fashioned standoff. Ospreay, with his Assassin's Creed trappings, is perfect for this sort of over-the-top theatricality. We get endless strike exchanges and fighting spirit bits in wrestling, but this wasn't even a samurai showdown where both fighters would pass and one would fall after the fact; no, it was right out of a western with the younger upstart having the quicker draw. Given what the match meant to accomplish, the passing of a torch, it was the perfect ending. Maybe, just maybe, it was even the perfect match too. It was, unfortunately, just one that couldn't overcome the frothing anticipation that the fans in the arena had for it. It was their loss and ultimately it was ours too. 

AEW Collision 4/20/24

BUNKHOUSE BRAWL

Bryan Danielson/Claudio Castagnoli vs. Kyle Fletcher/Konosuke Takeshita

MD: On a nexus with Connelly vs. Demus on one end and the Jarrett vs. Briscoe in the Concession Stand Brawl on the other, this would be in the middle but definitely closer to the former than the latter. I write a lot about my own personal preference for wrestling that feels organic and where you can't see the strings and that's much more of what we had here. There were numerous moments in this one where someone (more often a member of the BCC or Takeshita) would spot something in the corner of their eye and work it into the match. That's not to say that Fletcher didn't put up a good effort; he did, it's just that this probably was a lot less natural to him both from what he had seen and what he had done. You had Claudio picking up action figures or spotting a hammer (used previously) on the ground and making use of it. I do think that Fletcher has some good natural instincts in working the crowd but this wasn't the sort of match to do that in the way one usually did it. Takeshita, on the other hand, is someone who drives me absolutely nuts with his match layout: too much, too soon, all at once. But the reason why he drives me nuts is because he's so physically impressive and visually effective, dynamic and explosive. If he could just get out of his own way, he could be absolutely amazing. Here, he understood the mission, a constant violent push forward. 

I also talk a lot about the duel-edged sword that are the commercial breaks. In most matches, I actually think they help more than they hurt because they force things to slow down and the heels to lean into their characters and the heat they're trying to get. It prevents the matches from devolving into constant noise from bell to bell. Here, you kind of wanted that though, but what we did get during the break was pretty great, with Takeshita working over Danielson's would for minutes straight. I see people complaining that Fletcher didn't rub the blood into his hair, but to be fair, Danielson came out of that commercial break with a much more interesting crimson mask than he came in, all thanks to Takeshita. Unfortunately, the timing of the break ending meant that the camera couldn't linger on Takeshita about to brainbuster Danielson on the ramp again. That was the key emotional moment of the entire match, the reversal and subsequent DDT, but the folks at home needed at least a second to understand why Claudio wasn't there to make the save. While the quick cuts between the two scenarios were a plus for most of the match to add to the chaotic feel, it did hurt a little there.

Moreover, if Fletcher needed a bit of education, the crowd did as well. They were pavlovianly shouting for tables; sometimes giving them what they want isn't the same as giving them what they need, and Danielson did that at each point, diverting them away either through yes chants or other bursts of engaging violence. If they run something like this again, on the second or third time, people will be excited for the possibility of the powder or the chain or the wire to choke with. In some ways, all that wrestling is at its very core is the conditioning of an audience over time and then the utilization of that conditioning for the sake of manipulation. Again, that's almost the opposite of some of the maximalist, pandering performances that get over so big today, but it's that carny tugging at heartstrings where the greatest artistry can be found. On this night, through violent creativity and adaptability in the moment and a commitment to the chaos at play, these four (and yes, I mean all four of them and Moxley and Hobbs for good measure), did their part in retaking just a bit of the old ways so that they might be used once again, not to pull pro wrestling back into moldering darkness but to help push it forward back towards the light.

Adam Copeland/Eddie Kingston/Mark Briscoe vs. Top Flight/Action Andretti

MD: I really like it when they run a warm-up/showcase match for a one-time trios before a PPV. It's very likely that we never see Copeland/Kingston/Briscoe again after this and this match gave us a chance to see them highlighted against a very different sort of team than the House of Black in a babyface vs. babyface match. Top Flight/Andretti are a set unit and had the superior teamwork and the speed, but they had both a size and a presence disadvantage. We've seen Ace Kingston pushing around younger guys. Mark Briscoe, here, came off as a total beast, like the Briscoes of old, just running through Dante when he had the chance. This was maybe the first time, even through a series of Cope Opens, where Copeland got to be a giant in the land of the new normal height-wise. I probably need to go back to see his work against Rey at some point, but here he was working big. There was no ultimate opportunist here. There was a running power slam instead. 

There are a lot of things that can and should make AEW Copeland different than WWE Copeland, and he's been doing an admirable job of embracing more and more of them every week, but I don't think I've seen him look quite this imposing as of yet and it was great to see. I want more of it. No one even played de facto heel here; yes, the bigger makeshift trio sort of bullied, and Top Flight double-and-tripled teamed but it wasn't personal. There was a little bit of control on Copeland and a lot on Dante, but it was back and forth and never wore out its welcome; plus, Andretti has that Tom Zenk thing about being particularly punchable. When things broke down in the end, the fireworks were exciting but also well-placed. Even the triple double clothesline felt a little novel relative to some of the spots you see in this scenario. I'm sure that anyone who didn't blink and miss it loved Dante jamming his leg on the backflip to let Copeland hit the Impaler. It was a little detail, probably unnecessary, that still added to the match. And of course the finish of the Uraken into the Spear, with Copeland sneaking Andretti into the center of the ring for the Froggy Bow, was just a perfect highlight reel combination. If we'll never get Copeland/Kingston/Briscoe again after the PPV, at least we'll have gotten two very different looks at them.

 

AEW Dynasty 4/21/24

Adam Copeland/Eddie Kingston/Mark Briscoe vs. House of Black

MD: I dug the layout for this one. After an initial tease of Copeland vs Black before the match got going, we led into initial pairings like a lucha trios. Matthews was paired with Briscoe and King was paired with Kingston. I'm not entirely sure that the build properly set up these pairings, but both the announcers and the wrestlers leaned into them. And, of course, it was all underpinned by the delayed gratification of Copeland getting his hands on Black, which is one of my all time favorite things in wrestling. I love it in Mexico (one of the best trios setups). I love it in Japan (all those Eigen/Rusher matches I've been watching lately). I love it here and they worked it wonderfully towards the finish. The pairings, generally equal, built to a real shine where Mark Briscoe took out everyone and did the amazing, terrifying chair-assisted dive over the post on the apron, which, in and of itself, led to the heat on Briscoe. He finally fought his way out of the corner to make the hot tag and everything broke down. I could have maybe went without the tower of doom spot, but I did like how they twisted it by bringing it back to Copeland and King and the Superplex. Otherwise, it was all sequenced well, centered around the subconscious notion that if only Copeland could hit the Impaler on King, he'd be able to get his hands on Black. It took three tries and an Eddie Uraken but he eventually got it, only for Mark Briscoe to come in and get his hands on Black first in yet another little inversion. That just ramped the pressure up all the more for the the spear cutoff to Cerberus' Bite (which is what we're calling the House of Black's triple corner dropkick now if you didn't get the memo) and the ultimate inversion, the misting out of nowhere just when the fans were going to get the satisfaction of Black vs Copeland. The entire match built to that rug-swept-out moment and that's just great aggravating pro wrestling to set up another show. You have to appreciate it. This maybe needed just a bit more Eddie but other than that, I enjoyed it.

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