I adore professional wrestling. Everything about it. The sounds. The silly. The violence. The pageantry. The stories. The moments. All of it. There is nothing else like it in the world. For over twenty-five years, I have looked forward to it in one way or another every single week, without fail.
I have many great things in my life, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t believe that I’ll ever love anything else quite like I do professional wrestling. It’s an enduring love – one that has survived every major challenge and turning point in my life. It’s evolved as time has forced it to do, but in a life built mostly through chaos, it has largely been the one constant I have always been able to count on.
I’m very thankful to all of those who have worked and sacrificed in and for the business so that I could have a few fun hours every week to love something, even when I couldn’t love myself. I always will be. With any luck, in another twenty-five years, I’ll still be shouting this from the rooftops. Well, maybe not the rooftops. I’ll be almost sixty. How about we settle for the living room? Deal?
I think about that gratitude often and what it has meant to my day-to-day life. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be able to turn that around and do for others what strangers in a business I’ll never be a part of did for me. That’s a powerful thing. I’m certain those feelings have helped to shape me into the person I’m proud to be today.
You might think I’m getting off topic. But considering who I’m writing about today, I think you’ll see I’m really not. Thank you for getting through some personal fluff before I connect it to some very pertinent American Dragon fluff.
My favorite thing about wrestling is being able to watch those involved live out their childhood dreams. It’s a full body high, it really is. I can look into their eyes and feel how magical those moments in the ring are. The years of work, miles of travel, and time lost with their families weighs on every one of them, I’m sure. But next time your favorite steps through those hallowed ropes, do me a small favor and watch their eyes. Follow them for a few moments. Please. Just once. It all fades away. Every time. It’s remarkably beautiful.
Recently, one of the most extraordinary wrestlers I’ve ever been able to watch talked about a couple of things weighing on his mind on the road to Wembley Stadium. Bryan spoke of being able to live in the moment and his appreciation for that opportunity to do so. He showed us the very real goosebumps on his arm and flashed a smile you couldn’t fake if I gave you an eternity to try. It was a very personal moment for a man who has had everything stripped away from him in the not-too-distant past. It resonated.
He then spoke of the chance to recognize being present in the “good old days” before they passed him by. As an Office nerd, I immediately saluted the great Andy Bernard from the couch as my girlfriend shook her head in utter shame.
(On a personal level, there isn’t much more gratifying than popping myself by connecting multiple nerd obsessions into one memorable moment. Sorry about it.)
He didn’t mention this in sadness though, like Andy once had. He looked out into the crowd and then back into the camera and said that unlike most, he knew and appreciated that he was living in the “good old days,” and he was doing so right this second.
In the very memorable Office finale, Ed Helms talked about appreciating the “good old days” but only after they were behind him. He mourned for a past with his friends and in his workplace that he’d never come close to experiencing again. It was a powerful statement as we – the audience – simultaneously mourned the show in its entirety from our own homes.
But by talking about the phrase in the way he did, Bryan flipped everything around on us and for himself. He’s not mourning anything. He’s not letting us mourn anything. Because these ARE the “good old days” and he’s not finished kicking people’s fucking heads in yet. He’s not done snapping arms or mutilating cattle yet (he has ‘til 5, Aubrey!). He’s not done giving us the patented Danielson smiles yet.
Having been forced to retire once before, Bryan knows that unique emptiness. He felt that loss. He was forced to leave things undone. Not this time. Something tells me that since he signed his name on that AEW contract three years ago that he knew what was coming. One final run for the Dragon. One more chance to do the things left undone and feel the things he’s always loved to feel. Three years of absolute magic.
What I have found so fascinating about his run is that he’s authoring it as a wrestler first arriving on the scene would. He’s doing things we haven’t seen him do in YEARS. His pace. His intensity. His passion. It’s all seemed to be in overdrive. Constant overdrive. He’s been wrestling like he has something to prove. The GOAT. Something to prove. Rich, right?
But maybe he does.
I don’t know if he feels that way for himself, or for us, or for Tony for giving him a chance to run roughshod one more time to close his career. Only Bryan knows that. Either way, the violent matches, risky spots, and core memory moments we’ve been blessed with because of that reality have been an embarrassment of riches. For all involved I imagine.
I often watch young insane wrestlers like Darby Allin and Sammy Guevara, and I appreciate how lucky I am to get to witness their wilder days in the ring. I’ve since come to realize that Darby is such a unique madman, that he will probably continue like this until his body simply implodes, but for most, these wild days are fleeting. With experience comes a little bit of restraint. Usually.
Bryan was no different, right? Early in his career, we got the wild days. The days that set him apart in a business begging its stars to do just that. We got his best and for those of us lucky enough to have seen his early work, we got shown the highest bar as I believe it’s still known as today. As he transitioned into WWE and that whole well-oiled machine, we all witnessed that restraint come to pass. This is not to say that I didn’t enjoy his run there. I did. Very much. It’s just a different animal, and for good reason, right?
Enter All Elite Wrestling. I can’t remember a time when so many great wrestlers were getting a chance to author their own endings – to have a real say. It sure didn’t happen before 2019. It couldn’t have. We are now getting veteran mega-stars choosing to leave what is both comfortable and exceedingly profitable to go on runs that are literal insanity. For them and for us as fans.
Not too long ago, no one thought we’d ever get to watch Bryan Danielson wrestle again. It was taken from him in such a cruel and unfair way. Then fate intervened and we all got a second chance to witness the GOAT go to work. In AEW, I don’t know if I can even describe what we’ve seen. Just greatness. Over and over again. That’s really all I’ve got.
He has reminded us many times in the past year that this wrestling contract would be his last and that this year is his last as a full-time performer. He made a promise to his family, namely his little girl, Birdie. And Bryan Danielson doesn’t strike me as the kind of man or father that breaks his promises.
So, we’ve all been counting down the days. Turns out we really don’t have to anymore. According to Bryan himself, his official contract expired on August 1, 2024. We still have things to look forward to though. First? Wembley Stadium. If that match goes as I expect it to, I think we might be the lucky recipients of one heck of a little title run before the Dragon goes home and hangs up his wings for the time being.
I know a lot of people poke fun and blame little Birdie for Bryan winding things down, but I don’t really see any regret in Bryan’s eyes when he talks of the immediate future. I see peace. I see excitement. I see anticipation. I see a father who adores his children and a husband who deeply loves his wife. In many ways, he’s trading one dream job for another. And what’s wrong with that?
I’ll miss Bryan Danielson the full-time professional wrestler so much, but I’m so crazy happy for Bryan Danielson the full-time father. I can’t imagine the wonderful memories they’ll all be able to make together with him freed up, home, and healthy. And that makes me really happy.
I know it’s not goodbye, whether at Wembley or at the end of the year, and we’ll still get little nuggets from time to time, but it really is the end of an era. The GOAT era. And that’s something we won’t ever get again.
Bryan. Enjoy this precious time with your family. You’ve earned every last second. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the amazing memories, but thank you especially for choosing to get wild one last time. For you. For professional wrestling. And for all the fucking sickos like me.
During these last few months, fly high. The rest of your life is waiting when you decide to put her down. We’ll miss you, Dragon.
