This review was commissioned by Joey Hickman over on my Ko-fi account.
There’s blood on the towel. In pro wrestling, it’s generally a good sign when blood can be seen before the bell has even rung. Sandman hit himself a little too hard with that beer can? Good, there’s some wildness about to happen in the ECW Arena. Will Ospreay bandaged up from a previous match? Good, it’ll probably be one of his better singles performances even for those that don’t care for his work. What Samoa Joe brings us here though isn’t that bright, fresh crimson of a new bladejob but the rusty brown of Christopher Daniels’ dried blood on his towel.
The month prior, Samoa Joe attacked Christopher Daniels, leaving him with a kayfabe concussion. The bloody attack is presented as one that violates an unspoken rule of conduct within the X Division, the kind of wrestling angle that calls to mind Code of Honor storylines from ROH or even something as simple as Ric Flair attacking Ricky Morton in the locker room. It’s a simple idea: a line has been crossed and justice has to be meted out in turn. Joe in TNA here can almost be read as an invading force to the X Division–he’s bigger, he’s meaner, he’ll go further with the violence than anyone before him.
Standing across from him, the ace of the division–and arguably the company as a whole–AJ Styles. The inherent emotion of this match, with an angle so wrapped up in honor and the defense of something greater than just a championship, lends it an intensity more akin to some of the better interpromotional clashes in history. Fuck it, I’ll be bold and say this sits comfortably amidst the likes of Tenryu/Hashimoto, Hokuto/Kandori, and even the wilder CZW/ROH multiman brawls.
This match is that damn good.
Chief among everything else here is the spirit of the action. There’s such an attitude and emotional intentionality behind everything here that elevates all that they do. That comes through both in broader structural choices such as AJ’s initial attack on Joe mirroring that he laid out the challenge for this match even as a defending champion. But importantly, it comes through in every single moment of the match from bell to bell. There is spite behind every kick and a real sense of determination and meanness behind even the most standard of AJ Styles or Samoa Joe spots.
Once again, AJ Styles is a physical marvel in this bout. Yes, we do still get the fabulous fireworks that he’s capable of. Notably, he busts out the gorgeous Fosbury Flop onto Joe, but it’s the bumping for Joe’s offense that really stands out here. There’s a truly grotesque face-first apron bump that AJ eats when Joe sweeps out his legs that leads straight into Joe swinging him into the barricades that signal the start of a wonderful Joe control segment.
Beyond all the bumping though, there’s a fire in AJ Styles’ belly. He launches himself at Joe at basically every turn. It’s not the traditional babyface fire of throwing big ole wind up punches–though we get a few of those here–but listen to how Styles’ shin thuds against Joe’s gut and tell me that there isn’t an intent to hurt.
Importantly though, beyond just body and soul, there’s a real thoughtful mind informing the action here. AJ Styles disrupts Samoa Joe’s signature blitzes of offense here in such interesting ways that allow the crowd to rally behind him. Take, for example, Styles’s attempted counter to Joe’s Ohtani-esque face wash. For a second, there’s hope when Styles just forces Joe’s foot back with sheer willpower and strength. It almost looks like he might be coming back against the big man, only for Joe to crash back into him and nail the face wash anyway, with a little more added force and weight behind it. Later on as well, when Joe attempts to just outstrike Styles on his feet, AJ does one of the most exciting rope-a-dope sequences I’ve ever seen. Key to this is that Joe looks like he’s trying to land every single strike and it’s down to AJ’s natural quickness and agility to dodge each crushing blow until Joe finally corners him and lays in the punishment. It’s a simple display of strategic action and reaction that it feels like is becoming rarer in modern pro wrestling. AJ Styles is 100% living in the moment of this bout and it’s a delight.
As for Samoa Joe, what even is left to say about him in 2005? The greatest that a pro wrestler has ever been? Possibly!
Here he is in December, already having the Kobashi dream match, the Necro bloodbath, and the Unbreakable fireworks display on his belt, and still, somehow there’s room for more. He’s a killer in this match, stringing together some of the best offense you’re bound to see anywhere in wrestling. That’s aided exponentially by having an all-time great bumper like AJ but thinks like that decapitating lariat in the back half or even the really meaty kicks that Joe very disrespectfully throughout this paint such a complete picture.
Individually, these are all-time great performances from both men, together it’s something approaching the sublime. What the match and the innate chemistry these two have together does so well is create a scenario where both men are forced to escalate. There’s no doubting the greatness of either man, even just within the confines of TNA in this calendar year, but with the added emotional stakes and the way they match the action to that story, what results is something even greater than the sum of its parts. The match perfectly conveys the idea that against Samoa Joe, AJ Styles is in deeper water than he’s ever known.
And for a few magical minutes, he fucking swims.
He eats that lariat from Joe and kicks out at one. Joe’s reaction threads the needle between overt NXT face and genuine shock. It’s restrained here in a way we won’t see much of post-Taker face at Mania XXV. Beyond just the shock that AJ has something left in him, a real, tangible sense of physical exhaustion as both he and AJ have been sucking wind from the sheer exertion of the fight. Significantly too, he piles on the pressure by pulling a vicious Tiger Bomb out of his bag to get another fist pumping kick out from AJ there.
Even AJ’s singular Styles Clash of the match speaks to the change of atmosphere here. Up to this point, Styles had become a master of slipping in and out of the Clash. It’s a highlight of his matches in TNA up to this point, and the creativity and volume of set ups and counters into it speak highly of his talent. That said, the one he nails here may be one of his most satisfying. Nothing fancy, no flips and turns to get into it, just bodily dragging Samoa Joe off the top rope and hoofing him up into position to nail it. Again, another sign of the direct, gritty violence that both men have been reduced to. Even though there’s no overt gimmickry either, both men are bleeding from the mouth just from popping each other with live rounds the whole time. The match is taking a toll and that is both visually clear and properly expressed.
The finish too is a heartbreaker, not only because of how Joe gets it but because of how AJ lets it slip from his fingers. After displaying almost unseen levels of heart and true fighting spirit than ever before, AJ allows himself to get lost in spite. He attempts a Muscle Buster, disrupting the momentum of his own comeback, and while he gets that big Clash out of the struggle, he continues to create distance by climbing to the top rope. Joe isn’t half as concerned with such displays of valiance or athleticism, and simply shoves the referee into the ropes to throw Styles off balance on the top rope.
It’s devastating when Joe yanks Styles by the tights, just one more indignity to set up one of the most crushing defeats ever. Joe gets the Choke in, and as AJ flails for the bottom rope, Joe positions his body between the champion and salvation. So close, yet a million miles away. The lights go out and a new X-Division Champion is crowned.
An unreal accomplishment here. The crowning of a malicious and dangerous new champion and the continued elevation of an ace who found a deeper reserve of resilience than initially thought. So much done right to cap off one of the most historic runs from a pro wrestler in history.
Far and away, the greatest TNA match of all time.
IS IT BETTER THAN 6/3/94? 6/3/94 isn’t even the best match of AJPW that year, let alone being the crowning achievement of a promotion’s entire history. This one isn’t close.
Rating: *****
