AEW Five Fingers of Death (And Friends) 3/30 - 4/5 - Part 2

AEW Dynamite 4/1/26

MJF vs Speedball Mike Bailey

Contrast makes the world go round.

There are some great bases in AEW, guys like Claudio and Mortos. Look, a base vs flyer match is almost always better than a flyer vs flyer match, because that contrast gives you something to latch on to. It creates narrative friction, opens the door to easier, more direct, more primal storytelling. It becomes less about oneupsmanship and counterwrestling and the tendency for my move/your move and (which can work but take much more effort when they specifically tend to get so much less) allows for more ebbs and flows.

To me, Max is something else entirely though. He comes from a different school, a different timeline even. If the evolution of most of AEW is ROH and PWG and CHIKARA (and 2010s NJPW and Nitro-era lucha and a bit of CZW), he wears his territory heart on his territory sleeve. 

That doesn't mean he can't do the other things. In fact, he's at his most frustrating when he puts the Max in maximalist either to try to claim the "best" of something or just to show he can hang. He feels the need to remind the audience that he's as "much" as those around him once or twice as year (maybe a necessary evil, but at this point, I don't think so) and while he almost always manages to do so, it comes at a cost of purity and tends to make for matches that are rated highly but that don't hold up relative to what else he has to offer.

He's best when he's out there not just as a base to enable guys to hit their spots, and not as some sort of outright troll, not as a Miz pastiche that's somehow anti-Elite to get heat. When he's best is when he sticks to a sense of vision that is more than what spots might be cool or what false finishes might get the crowd going. He's best as an alternate evolutionary imperative, the idea that what was a champion in the 60s, 70s, 80s, into the 90s is somehow a timelines force, something that can win through hook and crook, through dogged persistence and sheer confidence, that can balance an entirely different sort of earnest and genuine clowning, stooging performance with that of begrudging martial dominance... 

At his best, he stands for the idea that wrestling can still be a moral play, that it still tell universal, human stories about class and faith and hope and grit and heroism and villainy. Like I said, vision, in an artform that's gone away from it towards fireworks stacked on top of fireworks wearing a hat of "evolution."

Wrestling today is what it is. So much of it is judged on a rubric based on "awesomeness", on the number of spots and kickouts and false finishes and counter-sequences, on going as quick as you can go, and fitting in as much as humanly possible. 

Max operates best not as someone who can spit upon that OR enable it, but someone who can meet it halfway, to show that if things are twisted just so, contorted, strained, pulled, held to certain values, that the best of both worlds is still possible. Just like Gagne could against the flamboyant characters of the 50s or Flair against the muscleheads of the 80s.

He's contrast, and as contrast, he has any number of interesting opponents to face, and he can highlight what makes them special.

And he meshed well with Bailey here. Why? Because he didn't blink. Look at the opening. He came out as the American Hero, flag and all. He immediately attacks Bailey from behind. When Bailey fires right back and goes for their charging kick flurry in the corner, Max gets the ref in the way. He's quick to go to the eyes, to portray strength and gain advantages in weakness. But it's still balanced with one or two legitimate counters (the power bomb onto the knee and then catching Bailey later with a Liger bomb), just enough to give him legitimacy, to frustrate you all the more that he resorts to cheating and antics when he doesn't have to. He's the champion. You need a glimpse of him being able to go but for the sake of the vision, it can only ever be a glimpse. 

And of course, part of that vision is Max getting his comeuppance. He survived mocking Bailey's comeback attempts once or twice but going full crane kick pose left him open to a prone Bailey sweeping the leg out. That's part of the appeal (part of the vision). You don't get the confidence without the arrogance. He can't help himself. There's so much strength for a heel in that vulnerable consistency.

Even so, Omega was every effective in putting MJF over (instead of tearing him down and thus tearing the match down) on commentary. When he gets his foot on the ropes or rolls away from an opponent from the top rope, it's frustrating, but you also have to give it to him and note his ring awareness and the overall effectiveness of the strategy. Everything in balance, everything driven by vision. The horse leads the cart and the driver drives the horse and the crowd gets to where it needs to be. That's wrestling.

If you're not going to have a thousand firework spots, then you need to make the most of those that you have and set them up and pay the off well. That meant callbacks and repetition, foreshadowing and payoff. Max went for the Heatseeker, got shrugged off, and took out Bailey's leg with a baseball slide, cutting off whatever high flying counter they might have went for. Max went for it again but this time Bailey was ready, dodged the baseball slide and hit Max with a moonsault. Very smart stuff. Likewise with all of the rolls and avoidance leading to a second rope Ultima Weapon. In that regard, they were able to doubly protect Bailey's finisher. It was just off the second rope AND Max had to get a foot on the ropes instead of kicking out. That stuff matters. It matters for the character of MJF and it matters to protect Bailey and help elevate them even in a loss. Details matter. Details are what allow a vision to become a reality.

Max ultimately won this because Bailey went back to the well once too often. They went for a second moonsault knee on the apron. Max was ready and turned it into a tombstone. That was an opportunistic moment for Bailey but it also speaks to the consistency of vision. Max had frustrated them so. He had survived that far. He had driven Bailey to desperation and an emotional need to mete out retribution and justice. That created an opening but it also protects Bailey, even in the lost. It's human. We sympathize. We would have wanted to drop a knee on Max too. Strength in vulnerability; it works for babyfaces too. 

When you sum it all up: contrast, consistency, foreshadowing, payoff, vulnerability... you get vision and you get a match that works, one that stands out from the rest of the card, one that puts over both wrestlers and leaves them stronger than they came in, one which only increases the ongoing story threads and the narrative pressure for Max to get what's coming to him. It works. Storytelling works. Pro wrestling works. It can include comedic moments, breathtaking spots, teeth-gritting frustration, wild action, and character moments that bring everything to a halt in the best way.

All it takes is the bravery to have a vision and commit to it, and that, when he can fight the tides of crowds, critics, management, and even, sometimes, his own heart, is what Max offers pro wrestling in 2026. And god do we need it more than ever.