10 Things You Only Learn Attending AEW LIVE
1. The Product Feels Colder Than It Has In The Past
I watched with pure jealousy as AEW welcomed fans back into arenas in 2021.
That summer was special: AEW delivered incredible action at an impossible rate every week and teased out something even better with the rumoured arrivals of CM Punk and Bryan Danielson. The shows were almost invariably outstanding. The Elite Space Jam entrance; Chris Jericho bumping on glass; the Young Bucks generating deafening heel heat in major label PWG insanity exhibitions: I could feel the throbbing, incandescent atmosphere through the TV set and wanted to be a part of it one day.
Attending AEW live in 2023 was a very, very fun time and I understand I was privileged to do so in a professional capacity, but I didn't see that version of AEW. That version of AEW feels like the exception and not the norm these days. Revolution was white-hot. San Diego was bang up for Dynamite this week. Certain Texas markets still go crazy. Every other week however draws comparisons to WWE crowds, and Vegas was the same.
The empty seats were visible, damning. It's not as if the fans didn't care about the wrestling, but the vaguely bleak vibe was so distracting, a sign of the times, that it felt harder to get into the show as a result. It was almost like people were afraid to make noise first.
That, and the relentless interference was so telegraphed and rendered meaningless that little mattered before the inevitable. Nobody does it like Karen Jarrett, so nobody should have bothered afterwards. Or, maybe AEW just isn't as good, and the realisation cloaks the arena before the bell.
You should still go, if you get the chance. But some of the magic is missing.