AEW Five Fingers of Death 12/25 - 12/31 Part 1

AEW Dynamite 12/27/23

Eddie Kingston vs. Bryan Danielson

MD: It all has led up to this. The previous match between Kingston and Danielson. Kingston's road in the tournament so far. The entire Blue League of the tournament. Eddie Kingston's last two years. Eddie Kingston's whole life. All of pro wrestling history. All culminating in this moment. Granted, that happens a lot. Every moment is the new end point of history, but this sure felt like it.

If you've been following along here, you've seen a lot of Eddie Kingston ROH Champion reviews. It's been a different look at Kingston, Eddie the Ace, emulating his heroes, not just in their fight and struggle but at the very height of their success, fully developed entities that can confidently carry the weight of a company. He's been poised, focused, controlled, able to channel his animosity into a positive, potent, unstoppable force.

That's not at all been how he's wrestling in this tournament. Eddie's spent his life in the muck, crawling and scraping, fighting his own demons and a world that wasn't made for him, full of people with fake smiles fake tans and success that was anything but meritocratic. But this last year, bolstered by his time in Japan, he found a path towards something more. Eddie Kingston's spent his whole life just trying to survive but now he's learning to actually live as well. After an entire existence underground, he's tasted the warmth of the sun. It's made him wonder if he wasn't made for even more, if he couldn't carry more on his shoulders, if the world wasn't bigger and brighter and more wondrous than he could have ever previously believed. Success begets success. It creates opportunity and Eddie, the student of the past, has dared to dream of a new, better future.

A future with an American Triple Crown. He bet on himself, took a chance, took a risk, in order to create something that's never been, that never could be without him taking that leap. In doing so, he went from being the defending ace stretching out in his newly found comfort zone to someone who had to face all of his fears once again, most of all, the fear that he isn't enough, that he doesn't deserve it, that he's not worth it, that he's not worth much at all. And he's fought like a man barely hanging on, like someone who knows everything's at risk. He's fought like a wounded animal who had to prove something to himself most at all. And he lost, and he lost, and he lost again. He ran right into Brody King. He raised a helpless finger of defiance at Bryan Danielson. He went back to the old well instead of being the master of the new one. But he's been crawling back. He was able to find a burst of composed control at the very last second against Claudio. He was able to be just a bit more of that ace against Garcia, himself even more lost than Eddie. He was able to overcome Andrade by being the great fighter the old Eddie always was.

But Danielson was in front of him once again. And Danielson understands Eddie. He sees Eddie. Danielson is a sage, a thinker, a warrior monk, a dissident all in one. He tears at the scabs upon one's soul. He looks, he listens, he learns, and he strikes where the heart is weakest. Through this, he claims to build strength in others, and maybe that's true to a degree, but the scalding heat of competition shining in Danielson's eye
makes you wonder if he's not just cruel. He knows Eddie in ways a Claudio never could (despite what Castagnoli might claim). He cares in ways Claudio never would. If Eddie Kingston drips with hubris, then Bryan Danielson is the harsh god that will tear off his wings to prove that yes, he is not worthy, that yes, he does not deserve it, that yes, he is not good enough and he never, ever will be. Claudio claimed to be such an entity earlier this year, but he's not, for it's all just a job to him. For Danielson it is a religion and heresy, even the heresy of an acolyte of the Four Pillars of Heaven, must be stamped out.

Eddie's last promo before the match raised the question of whether or not he deserved this; he sounded unbelieving. But the second that bell rang, and for the first real time in this tournament, he believed. His hands were up. He didn't charge in. This was not Eddie the bum. This was not Eddie the scrapper. This was Eddie the Ace and Bryan Danielson had never encountered this Eddie Kingston. Danielson knew instantly he had to break him. He had to goad him. He had to bring out the rage and the fury and the animosity. He had to show the world that Eddie hadn't grown, that he wasn't better, that he never, ever could be better. And Danielson, despite his injuries, can float in the ring like a man walking on water. He stalled. He insulted. He poked and prodded.

And Eddie held firm. He stuck to his gameplan and got the early suplex and the dive. When Danielson struck at him, he looked for his opening and found a way to fire back. He stayed Danielson's equal. Now, Danielson, wrestling his equal, is still going to be able to get his advantages. He might go to the eye himself. He might illegally and confidently turn what should have been a clean break in the corner into a flurry of offense. He'd get his edge and find his lever though. So it wasn't long before he truly was in command, before he could turn the knife to break Eddie as Eddie has broken again and again. Legs trapped, at Danielson's mercy, the dragon breathed his toxic fumes, getting the crowd to chant that Eddie was a Bum.

Yet Eddie held firm. He took what Danielson threw at him, absorbed it, rose once again, and this time the fans came along with him. He was angry. Of course he was. He felt that rage and that hate within him. Of course he did. He knew the fans wanted him to unleash a flurry of his own on Danielson, exactly as Danielson wanted him to, ready for Eddie's big mistake, for his overemotional explosion. And it looked like it might come. Eddie threw a chop and Danielson went for the LeBell lock. Yet, with poise and control, Eddie escaped. Eddie went for the uraken, and Danielson was ready, turning him and preparing him for another trap. You could practically see the glee radiating off of Danielson here as he felt Eddie was laid bare to the world once again, the eternal failure, a wild animal with no self-control.

Yet Eddie held firm. He was one step ahead of Danielson and turned that reversal into one of his own. All things equal, Bryan Danielson could possibly beat Eddie Kingston, possibly not, but against Bryan Danielson, Eddie Kingston had always defeated himself. So close to dreams he couldn't have ever imagine to be possible, however, now that he had begun to trust in himself, to let himself believe the cheers of the crowd, to understand that hard work and perseverance and a good heart were all their own valuable treasures, no matter what life might have shown him before, Eddie held firm. And as he punished Danielson, as he absorbed offense and had an answer, as he endured Danielson moving through the match like a raging stream, taking every opportunity to throw an insult or a kick from every natural, organic angle, the tide started to shift.

For it was Bryan Danielson that broke. No matter how much he told Kingston he was a bum or tried to get the fans to chant it, no matter how many times he attempted to goad Kingston in, no matter how far he pushed him, Eddie kept his chin up, kept his eyes clear, and refused to falter. In the face of that, the grand dragon, the sage at peace with himself, at the precipice of yet another accolade in a tournament that was made for him and only then hijacked by Kingston and those upstart dreams, saw red. Danielson spat up at Kingston and charged forth into a strike exchange, played right into Eddie's hands. There was still a finishing stretch ahead of them, flying knees and spinning backfists, the reversal to a power bomb that had ended previous matches in the tournament, all of the drama and heart and defiance that you'd expect.

But whether Danielson realized it or not (and knowing him, he likely did) and whether Kingston realized it or not (and knowing him, he likely didn't), the match was already over. Eddie held firm. Danielson broke. And for Kingston and those chanting his name, the sun had never felt quite so warm.