Why It Is Literally Impossible To Hate AEW
The genius behind AEW - both in itself, and how it renders even worthy promotions that bit more inessential - is that it is a hub for everything that is subjectively good about pro wrestling.
The promos are unscripted, by writers at least. The range is awesome, too. Eddie Kingston's profound, soulful, do-or-die poetry; MJF's compelling, crass insults that always make more sense when the destination arrives; CM Punk's inimitable venom and depth; Jon Moxley's badass soundbites; Hangman Page's endearing, soft-spoken realism.
Look at the range of characters. You might not get or even empathise with Hangman's sensitivity, and if you don't, Wardlow, a man who beats people up to feed his family, is a masculine ass-kicker with a more old-fashioned value system. You might think Chris Jericho's heel bit is too obviously performed, even if that's the point. Bryan Danielson's American Dragon is an ultra-competitive and believable, stripped-back sociopath.
At an absolute minimum, the worst thing one can objectively say about AEW is that the promotion is wildly uneven. Every wrestling fan has to like a little bit of AEW, and like that little bit a lot, since the very best workers of the countless forms it promotes are plying their trade in the promotion. Bryan Danielson is in it. Fénix is in it. Were you on the side of the Young Bucks or the Revival in the big philosophical debate of 2016? It doesn't matter now. Both teams are All Elite in 2022.
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