Magic Dance: The Devil and the Dragon

Every once in a great while, a wrestling match will captivate an audience to such a degree that it is universally hailed. Showered in stars and acclaim, the match lives in infamy forever. Can we take a moment to recognize how rare an occurrence it is in this day and age for the wrestling community to come together as one on any subject, let alone one single match? It’s incredible.

What Bryan Danielson and Maxwell Jacob Friedman accomplished this past Sunday at AEW Revolution was nothing less than legendary. Not only did they headline a show filled with some of the best wrestling you will find, but they did so under a microscope. They entered with talks of a subpar story and build, of which both are subjective. They entered with the task of living up to not only the best main events AEW had to offer but also the very first sixty minute iron man match in the company’s history. In addition, they entered with much to prove.

For Max, the critiques and comparisons never seem to end. Can he wrestle as well as he talks? Does he have to make everything so damn personal? Is he the right man to hold the world title?

For Danielson, can he carry Max through sixty minutes? If not now for the world title, when?

These are just a snippet of questions I saw over and over in the days and weeks leading up to Revolution. Mostly, they’re nonsense. Also, they’re inescapable. They add a layer in intrigue and pressure to a match that really didn’t need any more than it already had. Still, with all of that and more on the line, these two kings among men delivered in every sense of the word.

It is not an easy thing to go out into that sacred ring and dazzle everyone watching. It’s even more difficult to do so for over an hour. The chemistry one must have with their partner has to be precise. The pacing must allow both be at their best when it counts. The music they make must align just right, allowing for the audience to dwell at their fingertips for an amount of time almost no one is comfortable with. It’s an almost impossible task. But they did just that.

The story the two men told in the lead up to Revolution took no prisoners. Things were made personal, perhaps even to the alienation of some fans not all the way in the know. That’s ok sometimes. The malice was palpable.

Bryan has this wonderful ability to add levity to any moment, big or small. It’s a monster quality to have as a babyface. Immediately, we can feel that and rush to his side. Max though, much to the obvious disdain of the veins in his face, is ultra-serious. He harkens back to stories that helped to mold him into the champion he is today. He discloses personal heartbreak to Bryan, and to us by association, that most would never dare.

In one of the most impactful and beautiful moments in any story in AEW for some time, Bryan spares us his levity and attacks Max with a vigor that can only be described as fierce. Max stays silent throughout, and his silence speaks volumes. As do his facial expressions. Though I enjoyed the story from the beginning, this moment is when I first felt sparks. I thought to myself, “Oh, they have something here…”

It touched my heart to see these men stray from their usual demeanors and so beautifully show us that this was in no way going to be simple. They were about to take us on a journey.

And holy smokes, even I didn’t anticipate just how incredible that journey was going to be. This past Sunday at Revolution, Bryan Danielson and Maxwell Jacob Friedman gave us an absolute all-timer. It wasn’t so just because they are great wrestlers. They are. That’s undeniable. It was so because they are among the best storytellers of all-time. I don’t say that lightly, but the evidence is there. You just have to dive in.

From bell to bell, the devil and the dragon allowed us to watch a dance that can only be described as magical. At some point during the last half of the match, I noticed I had scootched my butt forward on my couch, literally on the edge of my seat. I was smiling almost constantly as the clock ticked down, appreciating every single detail thrown in to make this match special. As overtime commenced, though I had been certain for weeks Max would retain, legitimate doubt crept in. I found myself wondering if a Danielson victory was indeed possible. And for a moment, I convinced myself that I actually wanted it (forgive me Max!).

A sixty minute iron man match is a bear to sit through much of the time. This wasn’t that. In a scenario where you can waste a minute here and a minute there, I don’t know if these two wasted even a second.

By the end of the match, I was short of breath and spent. I don’t smoke, but it would have been an appropriate time for a cigarette. I was smiling, my cheeks were flushed, and I was certain I had just seen one of the best matches of my lifetime. Sometimes, I find I have some recency bias, but something tells me this one won’t have any problem holding up to the test of time. I can confidently admit it was not just my favorite iron match of all time but that it was the best one I’ve ever seen as well.

As the show ended and I prepared to tune into the scrum afterwards, I sat alone in the dark on my couch and a few tears slipped out of my eyes. Say what you will and call me what you must, but in that moment, and even now, I began to appreciate the gravity of what I had just watched. In my almost 25 years as a fan – thousands upon thousand of matches seen – I had just watched one of the best. For those of us that take this personally and love it with our whole hearts, these stories mean the world to us.

It’s art, right? Art is a labyrinth of emotion. It’s supposed to be. I’ll remember this one for a long time and judging from the response I’ve seen it get online, I’m nowhere near alone.

Truly, it was magic. So, where were you when the devil danced with the dragon?