An Embarrassingly Late Review of All In 2024

Yeah, it happened again, And I went again. Then the week after, I had an OISC Level 3 exam for the highest possible accreditation in immigration law. Oh, and between those two things I watched the Magnetic Fields perform ‘69 Love Songs‘ in full over two nights at the Albert Hall, so there’ll probably be a blog post related to that at some point.

“But Alex”, I hear you squeal, though it’s difficult for you to speak through painful wheezes, as you sitting up in indignation is the most exercise you’ve done in eight months, you fat fuck, “Wasn’t it pretty stupid to arrange a trip down the London mere days before the most important exam of your life?” .

And I reply: “Of course it was. But this is professional wrestling, everything to do with it is as stupid as shit”.

Last year I wrote an intimidatingly bloviated three parts and more than sixteen thousand words on the event. This year, there’s going to be one part, there’s going to be significantly less than 16k words, and we’re all going to come out the other end much happier people, I promise.

Even though the 2024 All Innit was a vastly superior show to its predecessor, and must rank amongst the greatest professional wrestling shows ever held in the UK.

On one hand, professional wrestling is a peculiarly complicated artform (yeah, I said it). The wrestlers must always be cognisant of how every move they make and every word they say plays into both the perception of the character that they’re striving to inhabit, and also furthers rather than damages the storyline they’re participating in. That storyline could take place over a period of weeks, months, years, or could simply be the narrative in the ring contained within one match that the two (or more) wrestlers are attempting to tell through sheer physicality. And the booker in charge of these matches has to ensure that certain wrestlers always look the best but never at the expense of certain other wrestlers you you always want to look strong and worthy challengers, while also carefully showing how other wrestlers are still legitimate talents and real threats that are on their way up the card. You have to at once recognise the biggest stars who people are more likely to buy tickets for, while never neglecting the other wrestlers to ensure an always viable roster. Quick! Answer as fast as you can!: There’s a wrestler on your roster who wears a horned pig demon mask and is called ‘The Beast Mortos’, what do you do with him?? Answer me!!

See? Not easy, is it?

So wrestling is complicated, but if you have great wrestlers who understand the craft; if they can put on fantastic matches and also logically build their characters; if they’re booked into intriguing angles and storylines that expertly increase the excitement for these matches, you have a great product.

On the other hand, however, professional wrestling is a very simple: excite the fans, pop the crowd, fill the seats and you have a hot product.

And AEW has been ice cold for quite a while now.

The two London All Ins so far really outline the differences between having a great product and having a hot product. In 2023, AEW were probably going through their weakest period artistically. The additions of the Ring of Honor and Collision shows were stretching the creative thin and diluting the product. They bent so far backward trying to placate CM Punk after his Brawl Out midlife crisis that they gave him his own freaking show, and he still ended up being fired and going to WWE. He was joined at the market leading company by AEW’s record TBS champion Jade Cargill. The roster was decimated by injuries to Kenny Omega, Jaime Hayter, Jon Moxley, and many others. It became overloaded with gossip and accusations, from the contract status of people like Ricky Starks to the… credible?… sexual misconduct allegations against Chris Jericho. And the product was just bad: it became infected with the worst kind of hidden camera/goofy storylines/Texas Chainsaw Massacre Deathmatch ‘sports entertainment’ nonsense more associated with WWE at its worse.

Tell me when I’m telling lies.

The build to All In 2023 was almost non existent. Yet they had one of the biggest wrestling crowds of all time, in a country (and continent) desperate for the first chance to see AEW live..

In 2024, AEW improved massively as a product. It’s remembered how it was always meant as an alternative to WWE; has signed some of the legitimate best wrestlers in the world/of all time; they have successfully transitioned Swerve Strickland into a genuine and believable world champion; they have started paying some attention to their women’s division, with Toni Storm becoming a legitimate star and the company also signing one of the biggest women’s wrestlers of all time; and a lot* of its storylines have been home runs, with Christian currently in the best run of his career and real alltime feuds like Hangman v Swerve being patiently and expertly built. And also: THE BEAST MORTOS!!

(*but definitely not all – the nonsensical ‘takeover’ by Matthew and Nicholas Jackson – the EVPs who shouldn’t be managing a target – has been repeatedly falling on its arse for more than 6 months now)

But… AEW is still cold as balls. It’s not a meritocracy. The crowds are still low, the ratings are sub a million, it’s struggling to truly connect.

Tell me when I’m telling lies.

The build to All In 2023 was near enough non existent, but All In 2024 was hyped up magnificently, with several matches you’d pay to see live even if it wasn’t the only chance you had of watching the promotion all year. And yet the crowd was down twenty thousand from last year. Our group travelling to Wembley had lost one member this year, and we were theorising about how our group would get smaller and smaller each year, as the most normal person each time would drop out until only the saddest mark would remain. The person who dropped out after watching All In 2023 was definitely the coolest member, but this is all very relative: the ‘coolest’ member of a group of wrestling fans is still a person you would generally make efforts to avoid.

But, on the other hand: fifty thousand people watching a wrestling show?! That’s still absolutely outstanding. Even market leaders (by fucking far) WWE only got 11k when they were in Glasgow in June. And being amongst those fifty thousand felt like stepping into a bizarre parallel universe where AEW was actually the hottest thing in the world.

Shall I actually talk about the show now? Yeah, let’s do that.

Pre-show Gripes

I am not going to talk about the pre-show matches, because if we’re all being honest nobody actually cares and I want to get this blog entry finished by the end of 2024. However, can I at least have a bit of a moan? Can I? Please? Aw, you’re so kind.

Why the fucking fuck was Jaime fucking Hayter’s fucking return not of the fucking main fucking card? Jaime Hayter is beloved by anyone I’d care to even imagine. Not just us dirty/ugly/smelly Brits, but even by those weird Americans you see online talking about ‘Obamacare’ and ‘border security’. She’s legitimately one of the biggest and most loved English wrestlers in the world. I’d argue that she’s the best British female wrestler in the world right now, and doesn’t have that many blokes ahead of her in the best British wrestler overall department. She’s been injured since May 2023, when she was beaten for her women’s title so long ago that she lost it to Toni Storm before she was even Timeless. This meant that she was cruelly denied the chance to wrestle in the biggest show her home country had ever seen in 2023, and was injured all the way up until the next year’s show, and now she’s mercifully able to return to the ring for a historic moment and…

She comes out on the preshow. To interrupt a Saraya talking segment?

There’s a (tiny, miniscule, near imperceptible) ounce of logic to it: in storyline, Hayter was put on the shelf by the Outcasts stable (I’m sorry Ms Hayter – woooo!) of Saraya, Toni Storm and Ruby, Ruby, Ruby Ruby Soho. Well, now she’s been out of action for so long that Toni Storm has completely changed her gimmick and is now the most popular babyface women’s wrestler on the roster, and Ruby, Ruby, Ruby Ruby Soho has very selfishly decided to get pregnant,. So I guess if she’s coming back for revenge then… Saraya is her only option…?

But… firstly, with all due respect to her achievements in the business and what she’s often been put through, Saraya is at this point nothing more than an often entertaining midcard heel. The former (and possibly best ever) AEW women’s champion coming back to challenge Saraya gives unfortunate signals of where in the card she’s destined to be slotted in.

Secondly… mate, nobody ever gave a shit about the Outcasts. Over the past almost 18 months, literally not a single person literally on literal Earth has ever said “Man, I really miss Jaime Hayter… I can’t wait for her to get her revenge on those devilish Outcasts!”. Admit it, you’d forgotten that the Outcasts were a thing, hadn’t you?

Thirdly, what we really want is the long brewing culmination of that inevitable Britt Baker rivalry. But – oops! – yeah, apparently Britt has fallen out with Hayter as well, so best keep you far away from that huge match that’s happening tonight!

Fourthly… Saraya, mate, your boyfriend is so obviously a massive cunt, and people are going to assume you’re a massive cunt by association. Tangentially related, I know, just pointing it out.

Despite the flacid choice of feud, this segment of a few minutes long could have still gone on the main card and been one of the legitimate highlights of the show. AEW will argue that, by placing it on the pre-show that pretty much nobody bothers to watch, they’re actually advertising the main card by showing people the kind of huge shock returns they might see! Bollocks. Compare Hayter returning after 15 months (in her home country less than eighty miles away from where she was born!) to Daniel Garcia returning after less than two months out in one of the biggest matches of the night, and we’re back to AEW’s long held tradition of affording it’s women wrestlers far less respect than it’s men.

Anyway, shall I review the actual show now?

AEW World Trios Championship 4-Trios London Ladder Match

It’s a London ladders match. Because they’re in London.

Zip! Paf! Badoom! Crash! Pum-spak! Ptang! Wham! Snap!

Yeah, good fun, low stakes opportunity for men to potentially permanently injure themselves for our enjoyment. The Bastard Pac was kind of done dirty again by his entrance at Wembley (after missing last year’s event through injury) also not being on the PPV broadcast, and his usual trios partners’ ‘contractual status‘ meaning him being forced to win the belts in some weird ‘2K Universe Mode’ cobbled together team, but it was a nice moment.

That was easy, I might even finish this post today

★★★.25

AEW Women’s World Title Match

Toni Storm (c) vs. Mariah May

‘The best women’s feud in AEW history’ might be a backhanded compliment akin to calling someone the most left wing US presidential candidate. However, the slow and meticulously built Mariah May and Toni Storm feud might be one of AEW’s greatest angles ever full stop. And it hardly reinvented the wheel – “I’m your best friend and really admire you/Psyche! I’m actually evil and I hate you!” is literally the story of every Hulk Hogan feud since the early 80s – but it was done with such care, such conviction, and with both wrestlers performing their parts so well that it unfolded magically. And Wembley was a fitting end to at least the first act.

I’m proud of my countrymen for not choosing to cheer the despicable Mariah May (who might have anticipated that reaction and so was sure to slap her own mother in the crowd less people’s affections were undecided) just because she happened to be English. American fans have shown recently with MJF’s thankfully shortlived uber American gimmick that they would cheer Adolf Hitler kicking a baby if he did it while wearing an American flag! “USA! USA! USA! Hitler has the right to defend himself! USA! USA!”.

Toni Storm was universally beloved, the match was pretty fabulous, and it got the fitting, tragic end with Mariah May winning the title. And May had to win it – after this months long storyline that she debuted in and her masterfully done heel turn, it was the only result that wouldn’t have potentially permanently damaged her credibility.

Still, she feels a bit odd as champion, at least when compared to past winners who have all felt pretty major in some way. But this might just be because we’ve pretty much only known her as the lackey and then antagonist of Toni Storm, and now she has a chance to exhibit her personality as a sole performer. And AEW couldn’t possibly mess up something in their women’s division, right*??

(*see the pre show. Or later on in this same show. Or the last five years)

What I hope we don’t get is Toni Storm just taking the title back off May at the first opportunity. Give Toni a break, ensure that her return – and potentially new gimmick – is massive, and give Mariah the chance to make a real connection with the audience.

★★★★.25

FTW Title Match

Chris Jericho (c) vs. Hook

Yeah, I know, we all assumed this was going to be a terrible match.

And, man, I dunno, maybe it was? Like, technically? But the guys were throwing cricket balls at each other! I worry about the Americans* not quite getting that because all of their cultural markers are fucked up and weird, and they simply don’t understand that pain. Allow me to try and put it in their language: you know school shootings? Well, in the UK we throw cricket balls instead. And it hurts more**.

Also: Big Bill!! That guy is more confusingly over in the UK than chasing cheese down hills and casual fascism! I mean, I fucking love him, but I never before realised that was connected to my genes?! Scholars, please study the ‘W. Morrissey Effect’ and publish papers on this shit, because it’s fascinating. I listened to a review of All In that had the temerity to suggest that the UK’s love for BIG BILL was just ‘ironic’??

(*I worry about the Americans for a number of reasons, but this is the main one

**And our governments aren’t wet enough to talk about restricting people buying cricket balls. It’s called ‘freedom’, America, look it up some time you bunch of snowflakes)

Oh, and then Taz happened!! Seriously, I’d give this match seven stars if I wasn’t such a coward.

★★★

AEW World Tag Team Title Three Way Match

The thing is, guys…

No, you see, what it is, right…

Like, guys, what I’m trying to say…

Mates, it’s just that…

…

…

…I really don’t fucking care.

We got Bucks v FTR last year at All In 2023, and it was a great match, I gave it four and a half stars, and a good time was had by all. I also used up all my jokes on how irritating I often find both teams.

Now, the Bucks have turned fully heel in a completely inane storyline where they’re revealed as being behind the scenes pulling the strings in AEW sometimes. Yo, Jacksons, pretty difficult title match you’ve given yourself here, why not just book yourself in a match against Jedward? Oh, sorry, I forgot your role as EVPs only extends to changing the Dynamite intro sometimes and picking a world title opponent once. Gotcha. FTR are FTR are FTR are Bret! Bret! Hart Foundation! ‘Spect the business! are FTR are FTR, and they just seem a bit lost and inconsequential now. They had as good a 2022 as any wrestlers have had a year ever – peaking with one of the greatest wrestling trilogies ever against the Briscoes – but have just seemed to lack direction since. The Acclaimed are an even stranger proposition: they have been possibly the most popular group in AEW history, but they’re act has been growing very stale rover the past year or two. They might be turning heel, but absolutely not tonight when fifty thousand people in London get the chance to sing ‘Scissor me Daddy’.

So this match was… there. Basically two weeks of build leading to a heatless exchange, emblematic of a tag division running on fumes that hopefully the (kinda*) debuting Grizzled Young Veterans will revitalise. Give. Zach Gibson. A fucking. Microphone.

(*”Hey Tony, the Grizzled Young Veterans are free agents! Grit your teeth, ammi right? We have that Wembley show this summer, which would be a pretty cool place for the Scousers to debut!!”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Or, how about we actually debut them on a random April edition of Collision and have them lose to the Acclaimed?? What the fuck’s a ‘Scouser’, by the way?”

I hate this fucking company sometimes)

Some great wrestling, but I couldn’t connect with it at all. I never thought I’d say this, but I thought the Young Bucks and FTR match was a bit of a downer after the Chris Jericho match.

★★.75

AEW World Title #1 Contendership Casino Gauntlet Match

Aw, man, I love this company sometimes.

This. This. THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS was an absolutely perfect stadium sized match, an absolute crowd pleaser without ever sacrificing any quality (or integrity). Those first three entrants, mate: first, the eternally beloved Orange Cassidy comes out to a Mr Bean* entrance video and one hilariously lackadaisical firework dribbling out. Wow, what a start, it can’t get much better than thi… holy fucking shit dude that’s fucking Kazuchika Okada! We got to witness possibly the unanimously agreed greatest wrestler of the past twenty years live, in a freaking stadium, and got the full, confetti Rainmaker entrance. What an opening two! Even if the rest of the entrants are just forgettable jobbers, this is already amazing.

Then. Nigel McGuinness comes out.

(*for all of us, in Mark Briscoe’s words, ‘Mr Bean looking asses’)

His first match since retiring in 2011. The London born wrestler and later commentator who was one of the standout and most influential wrestlers on the independent circuit in the early 21st century (including legendary feuds with a certain Bryan Danielson) was going to be back in the ring in front of 50’000 people in his (legitimate!) hometown. His last match had been at the Summit Park Volunteer Fire Department, Clarksburg, West Virginia, in front of a few hundred people. If I can just quote from Nigel’s own blog from December 2011:

Last night was the last time I, more than likely, will ever wrestle: In a small volunteer fire department in West Virginia in front of about two hundred fans, some of whom drove over four hours to see me.

Tonight, my old rival and friend, Bryan Danielson, won the WWE world heavyweight championship in front of well more than ten thousand fans and an international TV audience. I can’t tell you how touched I was that he texted me afterwards to tell me. I’m not sure I will ever fully accept how I never got to wrestle on that stage, but the fact that he did somehow almost makes it OK.

…

When I got to the hotel last night in Pittsburgh, with Billy Gunn, the receptionists recognized him. The guy driving us asked them about me, “Do you recognize him; he’s a wrestler.” They laughed, and said, “Maybe the friend of a wrestler.” And I get it. I’m not 6’5” and 260lbs. I wasn’t part of the biggest popularity wave the business has ever seen. I’m never going to be recognized on the street by the majority of wrestling fans.

It’s just fucking nice, isn’t it?

Nigel looked amazing in a ring, in a stipulation that he was able to take as many breaks as he needed, as AEW prove once again that they are experts in accommodating older wrestlers and hiding whatever weaknesses they might have. And we then got a face off between the past and present/future of British wrestling as Zach Sabre Jr entered, not long after winning New Japan’s G1 Climax tournament. And… ooof… Ah. Yeah, I’m sorry, I’ve just come.

Nigel loses points for not spiking and bleaching his hair though.

When Hangman Adam Page – who’s new gimmick is basically a divorced Dad who recently got reading about QAnon and is pissed – entered the match, the sense of dread that engulfed the arena was palpable. His heel work since being driven insane by Swerve Strickland’s unpunished crimes against his person has been so good that fifty thousand fans – a good 40-50% of whom are pretty sure that wrestling is fake – all thought “Oh no. He’s going to do something awful…”. There was an early sequence between Hangman and Cassidy that, once again, made me come. Hangman was the clear favourite, given that a win would pit him against the champion Swerve and allow the heated feud to get another chapter. But nobody had considered a Jeff Jarrett guitar shot, which is actually the most devastating move in wrestling. Hey, Americans, remember when I said that being hit by a cricket ball was worse than a school shooting? Well, a Jeff Jarrett guitar shot is worse than 9/11.

And Ricochet debuted. Cool, that’s interesting. Ricochet is kind of like wrestling’s Raheem Sterling: everyone agrees that he’s sensational at his best, but I might have to see more evidence that he’s still got it.

Christian winning was… an interesting choice. It felt like a bit of a damp squib after the incredible reactions (and multiple orgasms) of the preceding match, and it feels like the ‘Killshot/Luchasaurus is going to finally turn on Christian! Ah, no, he’s just handed him the win’ angle has been done a lot already. Also, considering how recently we already had Swerve v Christian for the title, it telegraphed the main event a little.

★★★★.5

AEW American Title Match

MJF (c) vs. Will Ospreay vs Those Fucking Streamers

Yeah, they did not think those streamers through, did they? Thankfully they never actually interfered with any match despite hanging over the ring for the rest of the night (and poor minimum wage stadium crew constantly scurrying round the sides attempting to take them down), but oh my God my anxiety for the rest of the night! I would spend the next couple of hours picturing Bryan Danielson attempting a backflip off the turnbuckle and getting his neck caught in the streamers, slowly hanged to his death in front of a live audience as the crew could just watch on. Yeah, sure, they could just send BIG BILL down there to pluck the streamers off (guy’s seven foot tall, which I hear in unteachable), but he’d never get there in time, the rampway is huge! No, we’re all now watching a live snuff film, thanks a lot, America.

Yeah, this match was incredible with an incredible atmosphere. Rivalling either participants’ greatest AEW match ever.

And is does seem like this will be the end of MJF’s terribly misjudged Mr America gimmick. It misjudged the American crowds’ inability to chant “USA! USA! USA! STATES’ RIGHTS! USA!” whenever the country is even hinted at, and it misjudged how much the British really care (or even know) about the USA’s War of Independence. His gimmick should have been a middle eastern asylum seeker, we hate those guys! MJF can be the most thoughtful and intelligent heel going, and this base level patriotism was always so beneath him. It also seems, however, that he is not finished with the Daniel Garcia feud, which is also a tad misjudged, considering Garcia is about as comparable to MJF in terms of popularity and place on the card as Billy Kidman was to Hogan in 2000 era WCW.

★★★★.75

AEW TBS Title Match

Mercedes Mone (c) vs. Dr. Britt Baker DMD

…

…

…

Wh…?

…

…

…

What the fuck was this?

Firstly, I get it, it was very old school AEW women’s match booking: wait until the crowd is spent after potentially the loudest match of the night and send them out there to die. I’ve heard that a lot of people went to the bar/toilet after the emotional exhaustion of the Ospreay match, and the first five to ten minutes of this match were played out to crickets. No, not the school shooting cricket, the insect crickets, you get me?

But also…

Ladies, what the fuck was this match? It was slow, it was overelaborate in places, and contained moments and spots that just did not translate to an arena. This is the same Mercedes Mone/Sasha Banks who was at least partially responsible for some great, stadium filling, capital W, capital M, ‘Wrestlemania Moments, so who shit the bed here on the biggest stage??

Listen, I’m not pointing fingers: you both fucked up – Britt was showing bad ring rust, and Mercedes was often too ambitious when considering that ring rust!

Ah, but don’t worry, whatever happens we’ll always have that huge Hayter pop when she makes her triumphant return after the match and… Oh yeah. We can’t have that, either, can we Tony/Britt?

★.75

AEW TNT Title Coffin Match

Jack Perry (c) vs. Darby Allin

Ooooooooooooh, cry me a river; real glass; crazy Darby bumps; bodybag; coffin; squash match; done; Seeeeaaaaaaaarchiiiiiiiiiiing! SEEK AND DESTROY!; It’s Stiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing! The insinuation: Darby is a little bitch who still needs help from his da.

This match and this review were both cut for time.

★★

AEW World Title Vs. Career Match

Swerve Strickland (c) vs. Bryan Danielson

When one glances upon the face of God, how is one expected to explain the physiognomy to those who have never had the experience?

How is one expected to describe Paris to those still down on the farm?

How does one explain how these feelings were inspired by a fake fighting circus and still expect to be respected afterwards?

I don’t care. Sometimes the thoughts of outsiders matter not a jot, sometimes you witness something so beautiful, so brutal, so damn freaking life affirming that it only matters what it is that you’re experiencing. Sod the ‘outsiders’, sod the dreaded (and mythical) ‘casual fan‘, sod everyone and everything that isn’t in this stadium right now. Pity them, because they will never experience this. They don’t know the feeling of dedicating most of your life to something so useless, so asinine, so trivial as professional wrestling and it justifying everything on a night like this. Swerve Strickland versus Bryan Danielson was a emotional and visceral rollercoaster that I’m not sure any other artform can completely mimic. Yes, it’s all fake bullshit, but in mimicking reality it ever so often intersects with reality, and on that night in Wembley it was right in the sweet spot.

In every other retirement match in history, the result has basically been a no brainer. Either the one threatening to retire so obviously has a long future in wrestling ahead of them that it’s ridiculous to imagine they were legitimately going to give it up. Or the one threatening to retire is about sixty years old, hasn’t been able to move his right leg since 2005, can only speak through their nose due to multiple facial fractures, and is obviously going to call it a day. And, guess what? That crippled sexagenarian with no fingers left on their left arm wouldn’t properly be retiring anyway! They’d show up on TNA the next summer/divorce and win the world title on their debut night.

But this match was different. Nobody had any idea who was going to win. We’ve known for a while that Danielson is in his final run as a wrestler. He’d spoken countless times about how his children want him to retire so that he can spend more time with them. One of his kids is named fucking Birdy, hasn’t she already suffered enough? We know that his neck bones are now basically silly string and he needs to get them taken care of yesterday, and he’s spoken frequently of how much he’s looking forward to getting surgery and being able to look down at his infrequently erect penis again (his words). And if Bryan Daniel Bryan Danielson – one of the greatest North American wrestlers of all time, the man who revolutionised the American independent wrestling scene in the early 21st century, who managed to not only make in big in WWE (despite being the size of what most WWE wrestlers order at Hardee’s after the show) but became their least likely world champion and Wrestlemania headliner of all time – is going to retire, that shit deserves to happen at Wembley Stadium. Oh, and his contract with AEW had actually expired, so there’s that.

But…

The guy is hardly running on fumes. Yeah, sure, his bones are taped together with Scotch Tape, the last time there was no blood in his urine was 2008, and his ribcage hurts when he breathes, but his matches are still incredible! In the 12 months leading up to All In, he’d wrestled matches against Ricky Starks, Zach Sabre Jr, Eddie Kingston, Will Ospreay, Okada and more that were amongst his career best and pretty much peerless when it comes to pure wrestling quality. Nobody in the world has had as many top tier matches as Bryan Danielson in the last year, so maybe fuck off, Birdy, yeah? Go and play with crayons or whatever and let us watch your Dad get his fucking head kicked in a bit more.

And Danielson had won the Ring of Honor, Pro Wrestling Gorilla, and WWE world titles multiple times. But never AEW. Just seems a weird oversight, is all.

Yeah, sure, the fake bullshit is that two professional dancers and pretending to fight for a fake championship and one of these carny con-artist might stop doing his street performances. But that laughable masquerade was also coinciding with real concern that this might be the last time we were able to enjoy the work of perhaps the greatest purveyor of the artform of the 21st century. We might actually be witnessing the final match of an alltime great. or, alternatively, we might be about to witness the moment that he is crowned the highest accolade in the world that’s been created for us. Fuck it, it’s still real to us, dammit!

So we got to watch live as a man cut his own head open to stimulate bleeding in front of his two toddlers on the front row. Then got repeatedly kicked in the head right in front of their dumb little faces just so the opposition wrestler could get even more heat. This is insane carny bullshit and I love it. Bryan was mercilessly beaten down for the majority of the match despite the crowd support being Oppenheimer decibels. Then, as Swerve kicked his bloodied chest, Bryan looked at his children in the front row and shouted “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH” in order to inspire a comeback. It was hokey bullshit and we all ate it up and I loved it so much and I love wrestling so much and I’m in heaven.

And he won. And we went mental. And anything seemed possible. And this was the hottest wrestling product that anyone in attendance had ever seen. And every decision ever made by this company was the correct one because it had taken us up to this point. It was beautiful, it was special, it was an historic moment, and maybe God exists, I dunno…

★★★★★

The next Dynamite, back in that shitty USA that doesn’t appreciate how lucky it is, it was back to normal. Back to half empty arenas. Back to crowds so quiet you could hear the sweat hit the canvas. Back to reality as the distant second. All In will be in Texas next year. Not sure they’ll even get five thousand, I’m pretty sure Americans don’t like AEW. They don’t like football either. They’re fucking idiots, can we just agree on that?

They didn’t deserve that Danielson and Swerve match.