In nearly any other promotion at any other point in time, either Adam Cole or Maxwell Jacob Friedman would have attacked the other one after their match concluded at All Elite Wrestling’s All In event in London on Sunday. The beats portended a result that should almost have followed a law. Cole and MJF wrestled in a heated singles match that ended unsatisfactorily for the babyface1, Cole in this case. Thirty minutes, no victor. MJF was the Champion, still is but that’s besides the point at this time. Cole had to beat him to earn his shot at what Max had lovingly called “The Triple B2”. The Championship Eliminator as it’s called in AEW parlance went to a time-limit draw. Cole asked for five more minutes. MJF, the cowardly heel, refused.
There had to be a way to get from that point to the eventual title match. No unsatisfactory finish like that ever ended with no title match payoff. How they got there was a trip, something creative in the ways of wrestling storytelling using old tropes with fresher execution. In storyline, there was a tournament where they paired off teams with a random draw3, the old “Lethal Lottery” canard from World Championship Wrestling. Wouldn’t you know Max and Cole were put on the same team?
WWE drove this angle into the ground, starting in 1997, when they had the idea to put Shawn Michaels and Steve Austin together as a tag team when they were diametric opposites, on a collision course to face off a half-a-year later at WrestleMania. Over the years, the company would drive the trope into the ground to the point where it was a lazy heat-and-eat method to building towards match number three of a five pay-per-view series4 between two wrestlers who should only have ever had maybe one match at a supercard against each other.
You can accuse AEW and Tony Khan of a lot of things, but not putting his whole ass into the big stories he wants to tell is not one of those things you can litigate. The looming spectre of Cole and Max trading cheap heat barbs that tread the line of breaking the fourth wall dissipated into the aether as MJF and Cole decided to treat their run through the tournament as a way to bond.
The segments building it up were glorious. They played video games, hung out in bars, cavorted in a trampoline park, and yes, even trained together to help get over the double clothesline as a move people wanted to see end a match. The story progressed in a way where their friendship was more than just a plausible thing to believe before they shattered it into a billion pieces. It felt genuine, mainly because MJF and Cole are two of the most emotive and passionate guys in wrestling.
People will bag on them both, and rightfully so, mind you, because a lot of times, they dip their feathers into the quill of pseudo-wallbreaking. Vince Russo in the late ‘90s thought it’d be a good idea to inject life into the flagging then-World Wrestling Federation to start blurring the lines between “real” and “fake.” Overall, it has been disastrous for wrestling in my opinion, and if I come to pass as God-Emperor of the Known Universe, Russo will stand trial for his many crimes against wrestling, good taste, and the English language. But in the short term, it was huge for business, or at least it seemed like it was huge for business. In my opinion, what was huge was the sheer number of big stars at the time, like Austin, Michaels, Bret Hart, Hulk Hogan, Bill Goldberg, Mick Foley, Randy Savage, Sting, The Rock, and so on and so forth.
When they got into “friendship mode,” they both put aside that mantel and did what they obviously should have been trusted to do all along. They did character work. They got into a story like two wrestling characters should have, and they created a buildup to an emotional catharsis. That’s what wrestling has always been about in one respect. That catharsis in cases like these was always supposed to be negative though, to build to an even bigger catharsis down the line. Story informs feigned violence. The cycle goes on forever with different combinations of wrestlers in different stories.
Perhaps the most famous example of this kind of storytelling happened in the ‘80s, when Hogan and Savage formed “The Mega Powers.” The friendship was temporary though. It led to Savage accusing Hogan of trying to steal his valet and girlfriend, Miss Elizabeth5. It blew off at WrestleMania V, where Hogan defeated Savage. That’s where these stories often, if not all the time, go, right? And Cole and Max did their best to make everyone think the partnership was going to shatter. Cole’s “jealous eyes” were not affixed upon a woman but on the AEW World Championship, which fed into Max’s paranoia. Even up to the day of the show where Cole finally got his shot at the “Triple B,” they teased and teased and teased that breakup some more. But something happened, something unexpected.
After the match and the tension, the “will he?” or “which one?” lingering in the air, they embraced.
You would think Wembley Stadium just witnessed Football Coming Home6 when these two men hugged. The fans of All Elite Wrestling didn’t just want to see them tear the fuckin’ house down in a wrestling match, which they did, almost objectively speaking. I’m sure there were people who hated that main event. I’m not one of them. If it happened on any other card that didn’t have the Stadium Stampede match, I’d be calling it the match of the night in a runaway. But I’m digressing here.
The hug was a bigger deal than the finish because perhaps wrestling fans want something a little different than the norm. Let’s face it. Pro wrestling took a nosedive after WWE “won” the Monday Night Wars because it emboldened the worst people in the business to think they were the draws and not the workers. So they kept cynically shoving bait-and-switch tactics and the worst, cruelest parts of wrestling into the mix without any of the feelgood humanity. I might be talking out of my ass here, and believe me, there are plenty of people who will insist that I am, but it feels like the fans at large want something a little different. They still want to see entertaining fights, obviously, but the cynicism and misanthropy don’t play as well as earnestness.
It’s why Hangman Adam Page, a big ol’ hoss who still kicks ass but has an empathetic, thoughtful side, is arguably still the most popular guy in the company. It’s why Eddie Kingston, who acts as if wrestling is real even when the cameras stop rolling, resonates with his earnestness and the heart he wears on his sleeve. And I think it’s why people didn’t want to see the Max/Cole friendship end just yet. There’s nothing in the rules that say two top guys can’t be bros, living the Dudes Rock life, fighting everyone but each other, being a couple of wiiiiild craaazy guys. There’s still mileage left in that tank.
There’s also nothing that says a turn isn’t still in the works. I mean, betrayal will always be a powerful tool in the chest of wrestling bookers and writers as it was 100 years ago as it will be 100 years from now. Maybe there’s a miscommunication when they defend the Ring of Honor Tag Team Championships next. Maybe Cole gets jealous eyes again at the Triple B. Maybe there’s a mishap with a shampoo commercial. Who knows? Wrestling is great because it can be whatever you want it to be, and as long as the folks involved put their whole asses into it, it can be as memorable and fun and evocative and impactful as any other piece of art or sport on the fucking planet.
But for now, even if this story is at a milepost and not the endpoint, it’s good to see such an emotionally charged and satisfying thing happen at the BIGGEST WRESTLING SHOW OF ALL-TIME that was so off the wall for the industry. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. The things that have always worked in wrestling will still work, obviously, especially if you have the smoke and mirrors of different personalities making each angle feel different even if you can distill them down into various archetypes. But the fact that wrestling has had stuff that has “always worked” is what makes deviations from the norm pop off the screen so hard. MJF and Adam Cole cemented one of the best stories in wrestling in London, no matter how it ends. All they had to do was hug it out, bro.
Or the good guy, in wrestling parlance. And the heel is the bad guy.
MJF calls the AEW World Championship “The Big Burberry Belt” after his affinity for wearing the brand when he’s not wrestling (and sometimes when he is).
Nothing in wrestling is ever random, in case you were wondering if they were really picking names out of a hat.
Calling them “premium live events” is hall monitor behavior, and doing so in my presence will garner you a wet willy.
Real life girlfriend/wife too. By the time they made it on-screen official after WrestleMania VII, they had already broken up in real life. I love Savage, the character, but Randy Poffo at that time wasn’t exactly the best partner to Elizabeth Hulette, and I’m using the most delicate language possible here.
For those who don’t know, every four years, England proclaims “Football is coming home!” when they get their draw in the World Cup, and every four years, the national team finds some hilarious way to lose before being able to hold up the most prestigious trophy in all of international sport.