10 Great Wrestling Moments That Not Enough People Have Seen

It's almost sad delving into the vast riches of pro wrestling's past in 2020.

In 2019, after a long and tedious time, there was little need. Pro wrestling felt big and vital and new all over again, what with the emergence of AEW, the ensuing war, and what was for a time the wall-to-wall in-ring greatness that followed.

But we're back now, cruelly, with an aching longing for a past that will remain unrecoverable for a depressing amount of time. And it's not even a past that dwarves in relevance and excitement a bland present. We all long now for the mundane.

By definition, nostalgia aches. That which creates a longing cannot be truly met, only in spirit or memory. Watching the wrestling of old only serves as a reminder of what it can't be now, despite what across even WWE can manifest as a noble, bittersweet attempt. AEW Dynamite remains a great show, but thinking what it could be like is almost haunting.

That Daniel Bryan Vs. AJ Styles Intercontinental Title match was a damn tour de force. An absolutely incredible professional wrestling match created breathtaking drama from an impossible position. It would be spoken of as an all-time classic, were fans in attendance. A sad ellipsis and an inescapable asterisk attaches itself to everything.

If nostalgia is too acute, now, then perhaps it's time to venture outwards - or, at least, use the past to inform our perspective of the new present...

Since the dreaded "Japanese crowds are too quiet" take still does the rounds - or at least the Richard Madeley "They were pretty hot for a Japanese crowd!" version - this match is mandatory viewing.

This is the most stunning and accurate snapshot of Japanese professional wrestling free to watch on YouTube, and thus the perfect entry point into it. It neatly and thrillingly bisects its history becoming, in the process, the best match of two eras. It pits the massive hoss sh*thouse western unit of Doug Furnas and Phil LaFon against the native tandem of Kenta Kobashi and Tsuyoshi Kikuchi. The prideful dynamic with which Rikidōzan's puroresu became a phenomenon is in full effect, as is a scintillating mastery of the pro wrestling craft.

Kikuchi, at a time in which weight divisions were distinctly less blurred, takes an absolute pasting. And Furnas and Lafon aren't mere powerhouses; they are stunningly athletic. Furnas has a dropkick equal to if not better than Kazuchika Okada's. With no physical attribute with which to overcome, Kikuchi, in an all-time great babyface performance, summons through the molten support of the crowd pure, unadulterated fire. Furnas and LaFon cycle through the artillery of every awesome '80s tag team to subdue him, with a flexing, heat-seeking relish, before Kobashi steps in. In full, vengeful badass mode, he delivers a catharsis of total euphoria.

Every story beat is delivered in an intoxicating, manipulative rhythm, and the atmosphere is that of a local derby played under the most crucial of stakes.

This, simply, is the pro wrestling time capsule.