No pro wrestler thrives more on making you think he’s about to be paralyzed than Bryan Danielson. Selling the damage of a match is a non-negotiable part of the job for anyone in the business, but for Danielson, acting out his character’s pain feels a lot like an act of sadism. He’s 43, nearing the end of a full-time career that began 25 years ago, and still carries the weight of a years-long hiatus due to a little thing called “career-ending” concussion issues. Especially since the move from PG WWE to PG-13 AEW in 2021, his matches have become bloodier, rougher, and more dangerous for his visibly deteriorating body.
While Danielson’s time with the company has cemented his legacy, his path with AEW has been constantly blocked by legitimate injuries, like the broken arm he suffered during a PPV main event last summer (he ended the match) or the broken orbital bone he suffered in a fall shortly after his return. And with those real concerns, there have been creative choices that capitalize on the emotions they stirred up — mid-match doctor’s checkups, fake fight reactions, and this drama, after a PPV match in April.
The story of Bryan Danielson, the real man, is one of an artist who loves his work but may have to call it quits soon, for his own good and that of his family. Throughout what has been marketed as his last full-time year in the business, the story of Bryan Danielson, the character, has been hitting the same exact beats. Danielson’s tenure in AEW, in both personas, came to a head on Sunday in the main event of the young promotion’s second annual show at Wembley Stadium, Everything inIn that match, he finally won the company’s top championship, and he did so with a performance that left everyone amazed at the fact that he wouldn’t be alive much longer.
In keeping with the spirit of AEW’s broad, though sometimes frustrating, side, the biggest emotional rewards are in Everything in It takes a wrestling knowledge that extends beyond the company’s own stories to international and historical careers. I think of the surprise return of Nigel McGuinness, whose career was “ended” for medical reasons in 2011, and his matchup with New Japan Pro Wrestling star Zack Sabre Jr., which was then interrupted by Kazuchika Okada. McGuinness is a commentator for AEW, but his career has never been put into context on television. Sabre appears to be next in line to retain the New Japan title, but that, you know, In JapanOkada is now an AEW talent, but his entire reputation comes from his work in his home country. If you limit yourself to just the AEW product, you’re missing most of the story.
This all-encompassing sense of fandom from the company itself—the message that if something doesn’t happen in their business, it still matters—helped propel the main event into instant classic territory. The outcome was announced by stipulation, with Danielson set to retire immediately if he failed to beat champion Swerve Strickland, but the apparent ending ultimately fueled the drama, which drew its fuel from a quarter century of goodwill between Danielson and the fans. Entering “The Final Countdown”—a satirical thematic choice from his early days—the event grinds on. Everyone’s favorite ring of honorNow, Danielson’s song is so poignant, it reminds everyone of how far he has come since then. Danielson never looked like a wrestler about to hang up his boots. As he rallied the crowd and greeted his family at the barricade, he looked like a loving father, a people’s champion, and someone with more to offer. And when Jim Ross, the instantly recognizable 72-year-old announcer who has been dealing with serious health issues, unexpectedly showed up to announce the main event, I couldn’t contain my emotions. The act of aging can’t be just a story.
The ensuing saga was, I think, a stunner for Sting’s retirement celebrations. While Strickland, at his hottest, was a formidable opponent as a brutal heel in his prime, Danielson was prone to being weak. AEW has consistently and unconventionally portrayed its male champions as loving, compassionate, and especially strong. That’s whyThis match, in a most absurd way, maintained this theme: Bloodied, humiliated and utterly defeated, Danielson became invincible simply by repeatedly shouting “I love you!” at his family. Strickland—cold, ruthless and individualistic—could never match his father’s mysterious strength. This fairy tale, added to the real-life professional success of a man in the face of physical adversity, is the kind of bizarre, tear-jerking concoction that only professional wrestling can concoct.
Danielson says he needs neck surgery, so he probably only has a few more matches left in this season before he loses the belt and moves on to a late-career guest appearance. All the while, I tried my best to remind myself to appreciate his work; I guess I thought it would make the time go by slower. We’re coming to an end now. As a somewhat compassionate person, I think I’d appreciate it if Danielson could walk out of AEW on his own. But as a selfish fan, I wanted this night at Wembley to last forever.
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