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AEW DARK ELEVATION REPORT
JANUARY 17, 2022
TAPED 12 IN RALEIGH, N.C.
AIRED ON YOUTUBE.COM
REPORT BY DAVID BRYANT, PWTORCH CONTRIBUTOR
Commentators: Excalibur and Mark Henry
Ring Announcer: Justin Roberts
– Happy MLK day! I hope you had a good one. Now, on with my report — or to quote wrestling legend Peter Avalon — “ANNOUNCEMENT: My report status: #LFG.”
– The show opened with a graphic honoring Martin Luther King Jr. Day. It included a slate-black background, an unfurled flag, and a design featuring five stars.
– An advert aired for AEW’s new line of trading cards which are being produced by California-based trading card company Upper Deck. A booming voice-over declared, “The stars of AEW are now immortalized in their first-ever AEW trading cards!” (Fun tidbit… I have a signed and numbered Jeff Jarrett trading card because Don West can sell anything.)
(1) LEE MORIARTY & MATT SYDAL vs. J.R. MILLER & MARCUS KROSS
Matt Sydal and Lee Moriarty posed atop the stage before walking and (for some reason) skipping to the ring. Already in the ring, J.R. Miller & Marcus Kross awaited their promising fate.
Kross started things off against Sydal by high kicking himself in the face. (Promising.) He then threw two punches which Sydal deftly ducked. Kross went for a kick, but Sydal dipped underneath his leg and looked every bit as agile and nimble as his twenty-seven years of in-ring experience portended. Sydal spun back around and hamstring kicked Kross. Kross responded with a hamstring kick of his own; however, before the sound of Kross’s kick finished reverberating, Sydal nailed him with a second hamstring kick, and this kick was hard enough to knock Kross off balance. Sydal then followed that decisive kick with a leapfrog sidekick. With Kross on all fours, Sydal nailed him with yet another kick to the chest. (Grammarly warned me I’ve overused the word “kick.”)
Sydal slapped on a wristlock, led Kross to his corner, and tagged in Moriarty. Moriarty dashed to the top rope, jumped off the top turnbuckle, and nailed a flying double stomp to Kross’s extended wrist. Moriarty reapplied Sydal’s wristlock, stepped around Kross, and administered a standing abdominal stretch. Kross’s face contorted with pain, but in an act of sheer desperation, he headbutted Moriarty hard enough to escape. Kross jumped in the direction of his corner and tagged in Miller. Moriarty stumbled to a neutral corner, unable to shake Kross’s headbutt, and Miller ran at him with a back body splash. Miller then swung Moriarty into the ropes, and Moriarty ran them twice, ducking clotheslines each time he passed Miller. Moriarty grabbed the top rope and put on the breaks just as Miller lept into the air for a missed dropkick. (Promising?) Miller crashed to the ground, and Mark Henry said, “Oooh.” Moriarty jumped onto Miller’s chest with a leaping double foot stomp before capturing Miller in a front face lock. Moriarty tagged in Sydal.
Mark Henry is now quoting the 1989 film “Roadhouse” (A film that contains information that is vital to understanding this match.)
Sydal and Moriarty double Irish whipped Miller across the ring, and Sydal bent over mid-ring to assume the looking-for-trouble position. Miller took advantage of this misstep, leaped over him, and attempted a roll-up. Sydal instantly rolled out of the attempted roll-up, jumped into the air, and nailed Miller with another double stomp. With Sydal having firmly established his upper hand, he turned to face his teammate and celebrate. (Is that a wise use of time?) Kross ran into the ring and attacked him from behind. (Apparently, not.)
After brazenly breaking the rules, Kross scampered back to the heel’s corner, jumped onto the apron, grabbed the tag rope, and implored Miller to make a legal tag. (I get the feeling AEW’s rulebook is written in Klingon.) The moment Miller tagged Kross, he jumped through the ropes and delivered a corkscrew kick to the side of Sydal’s head. With Sydal flat on his back, Kross hopped in the air, hit a double stomp, and then used the upward momentum of that double stomp to execute a drop elbow.
“He kicked him right in the solar plexus,” Henry said. (Solar plexus is such an odd name for a body part. It sounds like a movie theater in outer space.)
Sydal grabbed the middle rope on the hard camera side and struggled to pull himself upright. Meanwhile, Kross gloated and then ran at Moriarty on the apron, clocking him with a cheap shot. (What a promising use of your time there, Kross.) Despite Kross’s promising competence, Sydal had not yet fully recovered, and Kross tagged in Miller. Both Cross and Miller set Sydal up for a double vertical suplex, but Moriarty darted into the ring to catch Sydal mid-suplex and set him on his feet. Sydal then utilized Moriarty’s assistance to execute a hurricanrana on Kross and performed a step-up enzuigiri on Miller. With his competition reeling, Sydal tagged in Moriarty. Moriarty stepped through the ropes, leaned on the turnbuckles, and put up his foot as Kross ran toward him. Unable to stop himself, Kross collided with Moriarty’s foot. (Wrestlers are worse at inertia than Wiley Coyote.)
Miller jumped into the ring, and Moriarty leapfrogged Kross in order to arm-drag Miller so hard he went crashing to ringside. Moriarty executed a Pepsi twist on Kross and then celebrated for the fans, roaring like a lion. (A lion who was, for some reason, allowing his gazelle to recuperate.) Moriarty took control of Kross’s person and lifted him into a vertical suplex, but Kross countered by landing on his feet. Kross then slapped on a waistlock, wrestled his opponent down to the mat, and attempted to apply a Border City Stretch. Miller ran into the ring to help his teammate, and Sydal ran into the ring to counter Miller. Sydal nailed Miller with a flying knee strike followed by a lightning spiral. Moriarty finally wrenched Kross into a Border City Stretch, and Kross tapped out. The crowd applauded with appreciation.
WINNER: Moriarty & Sydal in 4:00
(David’s Analysis: This was a decent start to the show. I enjoyed pretty much everything in the match, even the Party-City-Ric-Flair haircut sported by that one guy who kicked himself in the face.)
– After the match, Moriarty & Sydal celebrated in the ring, and Kross & Miller learned that promises are a lot like vases.
(2) TAY CONTI vs. AMEERA
The Brazilian flag lit up the screen as yellow and green light bathed the stage. Tay Conti ran out to a thrumming drumbeat, stopped atop the stage, smiled at the crowd, and waved. The director cut to people in the audience cheering on Conti. Awaiting Conti’s arrival in the ring was her opponent Ameera who acknowledged the crowd and posed for the camera.
Both women jumped into a collar and elbow tie-up. (I love the fabric Ameera used for her costume.) The two women broke things up and then jumped straight back into a second collar and elbow tie-up. Ameera tried to transition the tie-up into a headlock, but Conti countered with a judo throw, then another judo throw, then another, and then, when she went for a fourth judo throw, Ameera countered with a blow to Conti’s wrist. Conti responded with a stiff forearm to Ameera’s chest, and Ameera grabbed her chest, looking aghast at the sheer force of the blow.
Conti ran into the ropes for momentum but rebounded to catch Ameera’s running forearm. Conti went down, and Ameera posed for the crowd, looking confident but not unlikable. Conti popped back up to her feet and got in Ameera’s face. Ameera refused to back down, and Conti shoved her. Ameera went for a big boot, but Conti caught her leg and sent tumbling her to the mat. Conti attempted a roundhouse kick, but Ameer ducked it with a matrix backbend; she then grabbed Conti’s leg and pulled her into a rollup for a one-count.
Ameera went for a high roundhouse kick that looked a little soft. She rallied herself, ran into the ropes, bounced back toward Conti, and attempted a crucifix bomb. Conti caught Ameera, held tight, swung her around, and executed a spinning side slam. Excalibur called it the Boss Man Slam. I loved the Big Boss Man. (Speaking of — Remember that time they murdered a man at WrestleMania 15 and then cut to a “Rage Party” video package?)
Conti smashed Ameera with repeated forearms, threw her into the corner, and ran at her with a devastating-looking pump kick. Conti then ran the ropes to hit Ameera with a second pump kick followed by a third! Conti picked up an unconscious Ameera, tossed her in the air, and delivered a Tay KO for the win.
WINNER: Conti in 2:00
(David’s Analysis: I can’t believe I’m typing this, but I enjoyed that match more than Moriarty and Sydal’s. I really liked Ameera. I tend to pay more attention to the female enhancement talent than I do the male enhancement talent because I know AEW’s women’s division could use more depth. IMHO, when it comes to the local women’s talent I’ve seen thus far, Ameera’s facial expressions rival Angelica Risk’s, and her look rivals Tootie Lynn’s. I hope we see her again.)
– After the match, the director replayed Conti’s Tay KO, and the referee raised Conti’s hand as she waved to the fans.
(3) THE GUNN CLUB (w/Billy Gunn) vs. J.B. COLE & T.I.M.
“Up next, the Ass Boys!” Excalibur said. “Though we are legally required to call them the Gunn Club…”
Colten Gunn and Austin Gunn came out first, followed by their twenty-nine-year-old father, Billy Gunn. (Seriously, is he a vampire?) Billy Gunn stripped off a windbreaker to reveal a Gunn Club t-shirt with the words “Sons of a Gunn” marked out and “Ass Boys” written underneath. (Dad of the Year!) J.B. Cole & T.I.M. waited in the ring, looking as pumped and ready to go as an LFG hashtag.
Austin immediately kicked T.I.M.’s stomach, causing him to bend over, but T.I.M. used that vantage point to grab Austin’s legs and yank him to the mat. T.I.M. flipped over Austin and attempted a pin, but Austin quickly kicked out. Austin swept T.I.M.’s legs and attempted a pin of his own, but T.I.M. kicked out. Both men stood upright, and T.I.M. caught Austin with an impressive-looking arm drag followed by a second one! T.I.M. then locked Austin up mid-ring in an armbar. Austin fought his way back to his feet and applied a wristlock which T.I.M. promptly escaped via a cartwheel. Austin ran the ropes twice, and T.I.M. ducked underneath him both times. Austin tried to run the ropes a third time, but T.I.M. blocked him with a dropkick. T.I.M. slapped on a wristlock, dragged Austin to his corner, and Cole tagged himself in.
Cole hit Austin with a double axe handle off the second turnbuckle, followed by a wristlock which Austin overpowered and turned into an Irish whip. Cole stopped mid-ring (because he understands how inertia works), and Austin ran past him, hit the ropes near the face’s corner, and then Colten used Austin’s serendipitous positioning to tag himself in. Colten slammed Cole’s head into the canvas before pulling him back up only to slam his head into the top turnbuckle. Pinning Cole in a neutral corner, Colten mud-stomped him until the referee broke things up. Colten then screamed in the referee’s face. Infuriated, the referee threw up her hands and walked away from the situation (Wait. Isn’t that her job?), allowing Colten to grab Cole, pull him out of the corner, and dropkick him mid-ring.
Colten pointed to himself and screamed, “I am the man!” before tagging Austin back in. Austin strutted around the ring (making a questionable judgement call which judgement sent to voicemail), and Cole used the time Austin squandered to convalesce, gather his strength, and deliver a jawbreaker. Cole tagged in T.I.M.
“Colten’s wearing a double ponytail…” Excalibur said.
“Hey… you can’t judge,” Mark Henry replied (in a soothing tone that kinda gave me ASMR chills). “If he thinks it’s beautiful, it’s beautiful.”
Austin went for a running clothesline, but T.I.M. ducked and punched Colten off the apron. Austin charged at T.I.M., and T.I.M. clocked him with a clothesline. Colten chose to interfere, running at T.I.M., but T.I.M. dodged Colten’s fist. T.I.M. turned around, and Colten went for a second right hand, this time connecting. T.I.M. plummeted to the mat. T.I.M. tottered around the ring, and Austin lunged at him, executing a drop step trip followed by a running neck snap. Austin then tagged in Colten, who put T.I.M. in a double arm hook and planted him with a Colt 45 for the win.
WINNER: The Gunn Club in 3:00
(David’s Analysis: You know, this was more enjoyable than it had any right to be. Billy Gunn was great on the outside, and he even had a fun little exchange in the background with the referee. That’s a perfect role for him. Seriously though, what’s his secret? He looks like he’s aging in reverse! Whatever fetal cells and orphan tears that man is bathing in, I need a tanker truck full of it.)
(4) FRANKIE KAZARIAN vs. LABRON KOZONE
Frankie Kazarian came out first, and I honest to God forgot he had pyro. I don’t know why, but the flames shooting up caught me completely off guard.
“Frankie Kazarian: one of the most respected men in the locker room,” Excalibur said, “but Mark Henry does not respect his pyro.”
“Where are they handing out those masks out?” Henry asked. “I just lost my eyebrows.”
Labron Kozone awaited Kazarian’s arrival in the ring, and the bell rang just moments after Kazarian stepped through the ropes. Kazarian and Kozone when straight to it, jumping into a quick collar and elbow tie-up that Kazarian reversed out of and turned into a waistlock. Kozone tried to fight the waistlock, but Kazarian executed a waistlock takedown, and before Kozone could gather his bearings, he snapped him up in a front facelock. Kozone tried to roll out of the facelock, but Kazarian held on, and both men hopped to their feet. Kazarian slapped on a wristlock, but Kozone countered only for Kazarian to roll out of his wristlock and bring him to the ground with a drop toe-hold.
Kazarian caught Kozone in a side headlock, and Kozone tried to fight it off by wrenching Kazarian’s arm. Unable to escape, Kozone attempted a belly-to-belly suplex, but Kazarian landed right back on his feet. Kazarian nailed Kozone with a spinning back kick, a chest kick, and a hard clothesline. This sent Kozone crashing to the mat. Kazarian let Kozone hobble back to his feet and stumble his way into the corner. Kazarian chopped Kozone’s chest (hard) and then followed up with a second chop. He attempted an Irish whip on Kozone, but Kozone prevented the whip by hooking his right arm on the top rope. Kazarian tried to whip Kozone a second time, but for a second time, he held fast to the top rope, defiantly shaking his head. Frustrated, Kazarian clubbed Kozone with multiple forearms. Kozone ducked his head, and Kazarian continued to rain down forearms across his back.
Kozone then burst out of the corner with a gut kick followed by two punches. He then went for an Irish whip on Kazarian, but Kazarian quickly countered, reversing it and sending Kozone into the ropes. Kozone caught Kazarian on the rebound and countered the whip by sending Kazarian into the ropes. Kazarian then bounced off the ropes and grabbed Kozone by the wrist, slinging him into the ropes (and I am now dizzy.) Kozone bounced off the ropes with a shoulder tackle, flooring Kazarian and raising his hand above his head, looking for support from the crowd. Kozone threw himself into the ropes, bounced off, and delivered a massive diving side headbutt to Kazarian to score a one-count.
“He’s wearing very regal colors — purple and gold — very royal,” Henry commented on Kozone’s ring gear. “It’s … It’s the Lakers!”
“His first name’s Labron,” Excalibur said.
Frustrated, Kozone mud-stomped Kazarian’s chest, choked him in the corner with his boot, and argued with the referee when he ordered him to break it up. Kozone meandered into the center of the ring as Kazarian pulled himself upright and ran at Kozone with two knife-edge chops and a hard right before being picked up by Kozone and thrown into a swinging side slam. Kozone then whipped Kazarian into the ropes and bent over in the looking-for-trouble position. Kazarian backflipped over Kozone.
Kozone went for a clothesline, but Kazarian ducked. Kazarian tossed Kozone into the ropes, caught him with a running elbow takedown, a leg lariat, and a body slam, all in the blink of an eye. Kazarian ran toward the ropes, jumped onto the middle rope, propelled himself into the air, spun around midair, and landed a springboard legdrop on Kozone. Kozone got to his feet but was teetering like a drunkard.
Kazarian ran at Kozone and got a shotgun Meteora. Kozone was as out of it as skinny jeans and looked all but finished. He fumbled backward toward Kazarian. Kazarian grabbed him by the throat, fell backward, and locked Kozone in a crossface chicken wing. Within moments, Kozone tapped.
WINNER: Kazarian in 4:00
(David’s Analysis: This was a nice match that mixed fast-paced offense with a back-to-the-basics approach. Kazarian has always been a standout wrestler, and tonight was no exception. Also, When Mark Henry’s contract comes up, he shouldn’t negotiate; he should simply send Tony Kahn a highlight reel of everything he’s ever said on Elevation.)
– After the match, Kazarian jogged around the ring, and Mark Henry said, “He’s taking a victory lap!”
Kazarian climbed to the top rope and raised his hand in the air, posing for the N.C. crowd. On his way to the back, a fan reached out to touch hands with Kazarian. Kazarian caught him out of the corner of his eye and made sure he touched the fan’s hand. (I love moments like that.)
(5) RUBY SOHO vs. KENZIE PAIGE
Ruby Soho made her way to the ring first, looking out at the audience as the director cut to fans standing and cheering. Soho seemed extraordinarily excited to be there. (The look on her face reminded me of that George Carlin skit where he talked about people who are “more than happy.” Soho looked more than happy.)
Soho jumped onto the apron and posed for the hard camera. Already in the ring, Kenzie Paige warmed up in the corner, awaiting the start of the match. The referee rang the bell, and both women sized each other up before jumping straight into a collar and elbow tie-up. Paige backed Soho into the turnbuckles, but Soho reversed it at the last minute, trapping Paige against the turnbuckles instead. The referee called for a break, and Soho obliged. Soho lurched toward Paige, Paige spotted her and snatched her up in a waistlock. Soho grabbed Paige in a wristlock before putting her in a standing elbow lock. Paige struggled against Soho’s elbow lock, and Soho wrenched her elbow so hard, Henry commented on it. (I know they just started, but this match has been exceptionally good thus far.)
Paige grabbed Soho’s hair to escape her excruciating-looking elbow lock, tucked Soho’s head beneath her arm, and went for a double under hook suplex, but Soho blocked the suplex attempt and again applied her standing elbow lock. Paige sold it like she was being eviscerated. (I am very much enjoying the intensity these two have.) Paige once again grabbed Soho’s hair and backed her into the turnbuckles. The referee ordered a break, but instead of simply obliging like Soho had done, Paige viciously tossed Soho to the mat by her hair. Soho hopped right back to her feet but was instantly met with a rolling elbow from Paige. Paige then delivered a knife-edge chop that went very low. (Honestly, it went a little too low for my comfort zone and probably way too low for Soho’s.) Soho sold the misplaced chop like she was in an intense amount of pain, and it was very believable because she just got chopped in the boobs.
Soho went into a back corner to regroup, but Paige would have none of it. She grabbed Soho, spun her around, and stomped Soho like a bug that killed her mom. (Paige is so f’ing intense. I love it!) The referee forced Paige off Soho, and Paige reacted by getting in the referee’s face. She threw out her arms, talked trash, and blustered in open defiance. Soho clutched her stomach (and her chest) in agony, holding onto the middle rope to prevent herself from collapsing entirely. (These are some nice facial expressions, and you guys know how much I enjoy facial expressions. Whatever you might think of Soho, you can’t say she doesn’t deliver facial expressions for the very back row.)
Soho finally got back to her feet, checking her mouth to see if her lip had been busted open. Paige marched toward her opponent with black holes for eyes and a face that looked like it had just finished staring into the abyss. Paige grabbed Soho’s hair so hard I’m surprised Soho’s head didn’t come clean off. (Maybe Soho really did kill her mom…) Paige continued to clutch Soho’s hair like she was trying to bladelessly scalp her. Paige shouted at both the Soho and the referee. I couldn’t quite make out what she said (but it was probably in a dead language and backward). Soho finally escaped Paige’s heartless grasp via a spinning back kick and a hard knee lift (Yes! You go, girl!)
Soho threw herself into the ring ropes ran toward Paige, and Paige caught her with a tooth-shattering back elbow (OMG!) followed by a clothesline takedown, dropping Soho hard. Paige crawled toward Soho’s carcass with a speed that looked like her body was on fast forward, clutched Soho’s leg with demonic determination, covered her, and got a one-count. (A ONE-COUNT?) Paige tore at her hair, snarled angrily, and stood over Soho’s body. (If I were Soho, I would RUN!) When Soho made her way onto all fours, Paige kicked her in the back. She didn’t kick her with rage, though — something that would’ve been less creepy — she kicked her with disgust. She kicked Soho’s semiconscious body like it was contagious. Soho tried to right herself again, and Paige kicked her a second time, screaming in Soho’s face. With Soho still down, Paige bent over and grabbed Soho’s face — yes, her face — and shoved Soho backward. (Oh, Paige… you go, girl! And by “go,” I mean go! Leave. Find an exorcist, and warn them in advance.)
Paige taunted the crowd, arms wide and smirk plastered on her menacing face. Soho finally found her footing, and Paige whipped her toward the turnbuckles. Soho countered with a jumping Meteora to Paige’s back. She then caught Paige’s head between her knees and rammed her face-first into the turnbuckle. That spot looked superb, and Paige looked half-dead. Paige mustered a miserly bit of energy and tried in vain to tackle Soho. However, Soho was not about to let this dangerous athlete regain her advantage. Instead, she hit Paige with a clothesline, a back elbow, a ripcord, and a forearm. Soho ducked an attempted clothesline from Paige, blocked an attempted kick from Paige, and clocked Paige across the chest with a knee lift so swift you’d think she had a rocket on her leg! Paige was still conscious but not accounted for, and Soho launched herself into the air, landing a step-up enzuigiri. Paige staggered toward the ropes and collapsed against the middle one. And to be clear, Paige wasn’t strung up on the middle rope in one of those please-kick-me positions. This was more of a please-notify-my-emergency-contact position. (Paige looked like a rag-dolled version of Serpentico’s corpse after a day trip with Luther.)
Soho wrenched Paige upright and attempted an Irish whip, but in a fit of desperation, Paige held onto the middle rope for dear life. Soho tugged at her arm again, and then, somehow, with the unfettered determination of all my worst boyfriends, Paige rallied to her feet and swung Soho into the ropes. Soho crashed hard and hung on the middle rope in the same tragic position Paige had been in moments before. Paige stared down at Soho as Soho slowly rose to her feet and then slammed Soho with an impressively high thrust kick. She then captured Soho’s shoulders and attempted to put her in a full nelson! Soho performed a svelte standing switch, seized Paige’s wrist, trapped her in a wristlock, spun around her body, and nailed her with a No Future for the one, two, three! (I’m not normally one for “fight forever” chants, but I’d like to see this match redone as a 60-minute draw.)
WINNER: Soho in 4:00
(David’s Analysis: If my write-up of this particular match seemed more colorful than the others, it was because I enjoyed it more. I take back everything I said about Soho’s overly-excited entrance. As long as we get more matches like this, she can look as excited as a dog on the fourth of July, IDC. That match was short, sweet, and both wrestlers performed every move like they meant it. “Good job” is an understatement, IMO.)
– After the match, the audience stood to applaud what they’d just witnessed. The director gave us a replay of Soho’s No Future from two different angles, including one from the camera that hung above the ring. The director then cut to a shot of Soho on the turnbuckles holding out her arms. (This last shot was such a good image, I took a picture of it and posted it to Twitter.)
(6) PRIVATE PARTY vs. CHASE EMORY & PATRICK SCOTT
“Oh my God, is that Private Party?” echoed throughout the arena, and Private Party made their entrance. A pair of gold stanchions and a red velvet rope stood onstage, and a man dressed like a bouncer pulled back the velvet rope and allowed Private Party to saunter through. Already in the ring, Chase Emory & Patrick Scott awaited their match.
Isiah Kassidy and Scott started things off. Kassidy dashed around the ring and shoved Emory (who was wearing red, white, and blue ring gear) in the chest, causing him to stumble on the apron. Scott and the referee both looked outraged, but Kassidy quickly returned his attention to Scott. The two men lunged toward one another, connecting with a collar and elbow tie-up, which did not last long. Kassidy snatched Scott in a waistlock; Scott snatched Kassidy in a wristlock; Kassidy flipped his way into a wristlock reversal; Scott reversed Kassidy’s reversal, and Kassidy dropped Scott with a toe-hold. (All of this happened in like… 10 seconds.) With Scott laying on his stomach, Kassidy cockily rolled across his back, stood upright, put one foot on Scott’s spine, crossed his arms, and posed for the hard camera. Behind him, Marc Quen could be seen dusting his hands off, adding further insult to Scott.
Kassidy picked Scott up, slapped on a side wristlock, and then tagged in Quen. Quen seamlessly took over the wristlock before going into a hammerlock, followed by a side headlock. (Mark Henry appreciated the smoothness of this particular sequence and commented on it.) Scott twisted his way out of the headlock, applied a wristlock, and walked toward his corner. There, Emory tagged himself into the match. Emory took over Scott’s wristlock on Quen. Quen struggled against the wristlock, ducked underneath Emory’s arm, and countered with a clothesline. Emory went down.
Quen hit Emory with two fast elbow drops and then mounted him, slapping at his face disrespectfully. Quen briefly mugged for the crowd before scooping Emory up into a bodyslam and slamming him to the mat. (Emory’s face here was fantastic. He was shaking his head “no” right before crashing down.) Quen then tagged in Kassidy.
Quen jumped onto the apron and performed a slingshot splash over the top rope onto Emory. As Quen rolled out of the way, Kassidy also grabbed the top rope and landed a slingshot senton. Kassidy then got down on one knee and John-Silvered for the hard camera. Scott shouted at Kassidy, and Kassidy curled his lip in Scott’s general direction. Kassidy then stalked Emory like prey, but Emory fought his way back up with a series of blows to Quen’s chest and stomach.
Quen forced Emory toward the heel team’s corner and into the turnbuckles. Quen delivered a short-arm spear and multiple gut punches before the referee forced him off Emory. As Kassidy distracted the referee by trying to return to the corner from which he’d been removed, Quen attacked Scott, wrapping an arm around his neck and striking his torso. (At least this referee distraction was done by a person on the same team as the person who was benefiting from it.)
Kassidy tagged in Quen. Quen rammed his shoulder into Emory’s midsection; Kassidy nailed Emory with a back elbow, and both men worked together to execute a poetry-in-motion on poor Emory. Quen dusted off his hands again and posed for the crowd while Kassidy John-Silvered on the turnbuckles. Emory used this reprieve wisely, and by the time Quen returned his attention back to him, Emory had recovered enough to execute a jawbreaker on Quen. Emory then crawled his way to his corner, looking frantic and hopeful, and reached out his hand. Scott also reached out his hand, leaning over the top rope, and Emory made the tag. Scott ran at Quen, looking for a clothesline, but missed entirely, and then Quen executed a Pele kick to the side of Scott’s head.
Quen went to tag in Kassidy, and Kassidy looked very self-satisfied as he accepted the tag. Kassidy jumped over the top rope into the ring. (He literally jumped right over it like it was nothing. Wow.) Quen sat Scott up on the top turnbuckle in the heel’s corner; Kassidy got a running start, sprinted toward Scott, leaped into the air, and delivered a step-up enzuigiri. Scott was dazed for days, and Kassidy and Quen executed a Gin ‘n’ Juice. Kassidy then pinned Scott with a single finger on his chest. (Cocky bastard.)
WINNER: Private Party in 3:00
(David’s Analysis: This wasn’t quite as good as Private Party’s match last week, but it was by no means bad. Private Party would have to go to incredible lengths to have a “bad” match — if that’s even possible. However, there’s one problem with that: Private Party is doing everything they can to come off as cocky, hateable heels, but the crowd still pops for them because they enjoy them.)
– A second advert aired for AEW’s new line of trading cards which is produced by Upper Deck, a respectable trading card company founded in 1988 by businessman Paul Sumner. However, Upper Deck’s first delivery wasn’t completed until Feb 23, 1989. (I read Wikipedia like it’s a novel I’m trying to finish.)
(7) JAY LETHAL vs. ALEXANDER MOSS
Jay Lethal came out to loudly applauding fans, and it is now time for what I’m assuming will be the match of the night. (Love him or hate him, Lethal is astonishingly talented.) Alexander Moss was already waiting in the ring, and Mark Henry said, “Alexander Moss looks like a deer in headlights.” (Did you know there are 30 million white-tailed deer in North America? Wikipedia knows.)
The bell rang, and Lethal put his hands on his hips, woo’d like Ric Flair (stop that), and did the Ric Flair strut (juxtaposition is a perilous thing). With that awkwardness over with, Lethal and Moss pounced into a collar and elbow tie-up. Moss slipped forward and slid Lethal into a side headlock. Lethal then shoved Moss into the ropes. Moss rebounded off one side of the ring, and Lethal ducked underneath him as he made his way to the other side, hitting the ropes and rebounding again. Lethal leapfrogged over Moss, and Moss once again went into the ropes, this time rebounding into Lethal’s hip toss and cartwheel dropkick. (That was rapid-fire levels of fast.)
The audience applauded in appreciation as Lethal clutched Moss’s head, pulling him back to his feet. Out of nowhere, Moss managed to get in a knee strike to Lethal’s chest, doubling him over. Moss moved to whip Lethal into the ropes, but Lethal countered and tossed Moss out of the ring to the floor. At ringside, Moss clutched his jaw and tried to regroup but slid under the bottom rope. Seeing Lethal coming, Moss immediately jumped back into the ring to avoid him. Lethal followed, but before he could get back to his vertical base, Moss kicked him in the chest and nailed him with a lariat. Moss mugged for the crowd, and the people booed as Lethal knelt mid-ring, clutching his ribcage.
Moss pulled Lethal up, but I bet he wished he hadn’t because Lethal sprang toward him with a clothesline. Moss ducked Lethal’s clothesline and went on a mad spree of offense. Moss punched Letha’s ribs, stomach, side, head — pretty much everything above his naval. Moss’s vicious blitz of strikes caused Lethal to collapse, leaning back-first on the bottom rope. Moss ran up on Lethal and mud-stomped his chest. Lethal managed to roll and crawl his way back to center-ring, but Moss stood over him, waiting.
Moss ensnared Lethal in a chin-lock, and the crowd clapped in unison to encourage Lethal as he reached down deep to find his fighting spirit and make his way back to his feet courtesy of an onslaught of elbows to Moss’s midsection. Lethal hammered Moss’s chest with a knife-edge chop. Moss careened backward, fumbled forward, and got tossed to the floor a second time. Once again, Lethal slid under the bottom rope to go after Moss, and once again, seeing Lethal coming, Moss immediately jumped back into the ring to avoid him. Lethal followed, but Moss went for a kick. This time, Lethal caught Moss’s foot before it could strike his chest, ducked under Moss’s leg, chopped Moss down with a clothesline, and when Moss got back to his feet, Lethal sent a second clothesline flying into Moss’s chest.
Lethal hit a high-flying leg lariat and turned to the crowd as they shouted their approval. Moss tore toward Lethal, but Lethal stopped him in his tracks with a kick to the jaw. Lethal took command of Moss’s person, put an arm across his chest, and executed his signature backbreaker and flatliner combo. (This is excellent.) Lethal went up to the top turnbuckle, making sure the crowd was with him all the way. Once there, he stood upright, winked at the camera, and then executed a magnificent flying elbow drop! (The crowd is enjoy this as much as I am.) Lethal covered Moss; the referee dropped to the canvas and counted to two, but Moss kicked out. (The crowd was raucously displeased with this kick out.)
Lethal checked with the referee that it was, indeed, only a two-count. The referee assured him that was the case, and Lethal accepted the outcome. He then climbed back to his feet and looked out at (what I can only describe as) a sea of adoring fans. Lethal guided Moss back to his feet, but Moss hit him in the stomach with an unexpected knee strike. Lethal fell to one knee, and Moss shoved Lethal’s head between his legs, but instead of getting in offense, he got back-body dropped for his efforts. Moss then grabbed Lethal’s trunks in what came frighteningly close to a titillating incident and threw him into a belly-to-back slam. Moss dropped to the mat, hooked Lethal’s leg, and got a two-count.
“That was very close!” Excalibur said.
“That was as close to an upset as I’ve seen in a very long time,” Henry agreed.
Moss argued with the referee about the outcome. (Has that ever born fruit for any wrestle at any point in the entirety of the history of time?) The referee did not randomly change his mind and award the match to Moss, but this did allow Lethal a chance to recover and fight out of Moss’s attempted fireman’s carry.
As if he could read my mind, Henry said, “I have never seen an official go, ‘You know, you were right, that was a three-count.’” (I could hug you, RN.)
Anyway, Lethal executed a low sunset flip into a pinfall, but Moss escaped the cover by clapping Letha’s ears with his boots. Undiscouraged, Lethal went for a backslide cover, but Moss again kicked out at two. Lethal attempted a third cover, this time courtesy of an O’Connor roll, but Moss kicked out just as he had the previous two times. Realizing he needed one more big move to truly put Moss away, Lethal performed a handspring into the ropes, rebounded backward, and executed a Lethal Injection. The crowd roared with delight! Lethal then hooked Moss’s leg and finally got the three-count he’d been looking for.
WINNER: Lethal in 6:00
(David’s Analysis: Lethal’s talents are vast and surreal. I am very interested to see what Tony Khan decides to do with him. Fairly or unfairly, the in-person crowd does not seem to care about the unproven accusations against Lethal. With attestation being fallible and me not being clairvoyant, I do not know if the things he’s been accused of are true or spurious, but I do know that Lethal is one of the best athletes in AEW and has the potential to be an invaluable asset if used properly.)
FINAL THOUGHTS: I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I am amazed by the effort these athletic artists put into their matches on Dark and Dark Elevation. It is clear these performers take a tremendous amount of pride in their work and will make the most of any amount of time they are given. If you’re in a hurry and only have a smidge of time, I’d recommend checking out Soho vs. Paige and Lethal vs. Moss. If you have time to watch a third match, I’d recommend checking out Conti vs. Ameera simply because Ameera has a unique “it factor” I can’t quite put my finger on. I think they’d be wise to bring her back the next time they’re in N.C. — or to quote wrestling legend Peter Avalon — “Any date, any time, any place.”
Thank you all for reading. I truly appreciate it. And as always, I’m still working on my sign-off, but until next week, remember that good is better than evil because it’s nicer. (Shout out to Denny L. for that one.)
And with all that said and done, #LFG time is now.
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