5 Most Insane Things Happening In Wrestling Right Now (June 15)
Aces, f*ckfaces, and creative disgraces.
Wrestling is so good when it's perfect.
The chemistry between Ric Flair and Ricky Steamboat was perfect. The way in which Steamboat exploded in the face of Ric Flair was the very platonic ideal of what it means to be a babyface performer and how it feels like to get behind a babyface performer. There's a spot in arguably their best match, the WrestleWar '89 classic, in which Flair bullies Steamboat over the guardrail. A chop battle ensues. Flair sends Steamboat flying into his people, but in one seamless motion driven purely by affinity and heroism, lashes back to send Flair crashing to the floor in an instantaneous bump. Flair can only run away; Steamboat follows in a flash, pulling his pants down, as Flair shows ass in an incredible display of glorious wrestling visual poetry.
The chemistry between Mitsuharu Misawa and Kenta Kobashi was perfect. Misawa was the stoic, immovable object with an ever-shifting arsenal impossible to strategise against. Kobashi was pure, instinctive fire, so easy to believe in that his fans did time and time again despite several losses to All Japan's Ace. Imagine Roman Reigns' current character arc, but it actually working.
The chemistry between Hiroshi Tanahashi and Kazuchika Okada was perfect. There was something bittersweet about the incredible and incredibly-performed tale of a hero's fall - an emotion rarely explored even in wrestling's endlessly diverse fabric.
On Saturday, Kenny Omega and Kazuchika Okada improved upon perfection...
5. *******
For more detailed analysis on the match - rated an unreal SEVEN STARS by Dave Meltzer, itself an insane development - please check out my lengthy editorial/love letter here.
But, to summarise for those who either don't have the time - or won't watch the match but will automatically write it off regardless because a bunch of old WCW '90s also-rans told them to - Kenny Omega and Kazuchika Okada wrestled the greatest match of all time. Entering the match with a new, divergent, utterly incredible character dynamic, in which Omega humanised his character and Okada deified his, both men exited having performed the greatest fusion of state-of-the-art content, psychology, storytelling, stipulation and emotion following the greatest title reign and the greatest foundational programme in wrestling history. This was the best of the best of the best. It was a perfect storm of perfection.
Everybody in the Osaka-jo Hall was as jazzed as Jim Ross on Twitter as the match reached its incredible climax. Both men sold exhaustion with an unreal authenticity; Omega struggled to even hoist Okada atop his shoulders for his One-Winged Angel. Okada, in a perfect moment of guard-changing synergy, could only fall lifelessly against Omega, unable to muster up the force behind his Rainmaker lariat. When Omega located one last surge of energy, and drilled Okada with a devastating V-Trigger, you could scrutinise the footage forever and still, the puzzle - of how Omega did not decapitate him - would remain unsolved. This was the new high watermark of pro wrestling.
Tempting as it is to not draw any comparison to WWE - there is none whatsoever anymore - this, in addition to everything, should conclusively settle one of the eternal debates: was the WrestleMania XII Iron Man Match one for the purists, or as boring as sh*t?
It was as boring as sh*t!