The allure of AEW, back at its creation, was Kenny Omega. Oh, there were other attractions, don’t get me wrong. The headliner of Cody Rhodes, the fun of the Young Bucks, the legitimacy that Chris Jericho lent it, John Moxley unshackled, the promise of others like Hangman Page. There was the undefined future of wrestlers we didn’t even know that felt so exciting and limitless.
But the draw, the pull, was Kenny.
Most of us already knew Kenny. He was the force of nature that kept us up to the middle of the night, or hustling to arenas we’d never heard of for ROH shows. He was whispered about in hushed tones, given that, for the most part, his excellence and artistry were only confined to the shadows of the mainstream wrestling world. He was the ultimate cult band, the real litmus test of one’s wrestling fandom. It was like how they whispered about Jimi Hendrix in London in the 60s. This guy is just doing something different.
We knew about the matches with Kazuchika Okada, the run with the NJPW US title, the G1s, the title reign, etc. But we also loved that not many others knew about it. That you had to work to see Kenny, and only those who really knew what they were watching would do that work. He existed in the imagination of so many. Even those who hadn’t seen him much were chomping to see him regularly, to see what the buzz was about.
The launch of AEW was the staging ground, or so we thought, for Kenny to show the rest of the world what they’d been missing. The promise of Kenny on TV every week was dizzying. Kenny was coming to these shores, full-time, and was going to show everyone what wrestling was supposed to look like. What it could look like. For all that AEW promised, this was the big club in the bag. Kenny Omega, on TV, where anyone could see him, where anyone could react like we did the first time we saw him. “It can be this?”
The juxtaposition, right there on cable, from the other company, would be too stark to ignore.
This is how we would win.
Strangely, whatever level AEW has achieved, it hasn’t really done it on the back of Kenny Omega.
Not consistently, at least.
The decision was made that Kenny wouldn’t lead the company on screen, at first, which made sense. It was too obvious; he didn’t need the title in the same way, and the promise of Omega’s big run on top out in the future would always keep us locked in. “He hasn’t done anything yet. He’s going to do something, and you know it’s going to be good!” Essentially, a Kenny title run at the dawn of AEW would have overpowered everything else.
He was first sent to the tag division with Page, where he essentially planted the seeds that would make Page the company’s biggest name a few years later.
Sadly, Kenny’s first big singles run had to take place during the pandemic. Perhaps he was the only name that could make us care about empty-stadium shows. Perhaps he was just filling in a gap that only he could. Frustratingly, Kenny’s only two title-defenses in front of full crowds were against Christian Cage at All Out in 2021, and then when he lost it to Page two months later.
Kenny’s biggest moment as champ wasn’t even in a title match, but it was the first moment (and maybe still the biggest moment) where AEW showed its true power. When he stood across a ring from Bryan Danielson at the first Grand Slam, and the crowd would have been more than happy to watch them just stare at each other for 20 minutes.
This was the promise of Kenny on our screen, realized. The kinds of matches we dared not speak of, on our TV, every week. Ripping off 25-30 minute classics as a reflex. Go ahead and watch that other garbage against this, dipshits! We’re winning!
Arguably, in AEW, that’s the most powerful Kenny Omega has felt.
From there, Kenny spent more time in the trios division than he has in the singles division. Certainly, his health played a major role, removing him completely for a year and a half. But those moments, where Kenny felt like the center of the Earth, where he was going to bring that force and awe from those bleary-eyed nights/early mornings in Japan, have only been confined to Japan. He and Will Ospreay stole NJPW Wrestle Kingdom 17, but then Kenny returned to the trios division in AEW. He would remain there for two months. We got another glimpse of what could be when El Hilo Del Vikingo made his debut against Kenny, and they had an actual pterodactyl fight on TV. That was followed by the famous cage-match with Jon Moxley, and then the rematch with Ospreay at Forbidden Door.
Two months, three matches, only a brief visit to Valhalla.
Kenny would come back later in the summer to try and make Konuske Takeshita a star at All In and All Out. There was one title match with MJF, and then his illness basically took him away. Kenny would return to show he still had the high heat with Gabe Kidd…in Japan again. He returned to AEW to face…Brian Cage? He’s had a spotty presence since his return, cashing in all the nostalgia chips of those NJPW memories we had with Okada at All In In Texas last summer. But again, a lot more idling around the periphery. No raw displays of the power Kenny once wielded. That we only suspected he still has.
But then there was last Wednesday.
It felt as if it came from nowhere. His match with MJF in Vancouver felt like it didn’t quite speed through the turn the way we wanted. Then he was gone again. Was that as close as we would get?
Then…FLASH. He was importing Japan Kenny with Zack Saber Jr., and a second go with MJF entered the rarified air where only Kenny dwells. There it was, all on our TV, what we all wanted at the dawn of the company. Just about the time we’d given up hope that it would happen, we got what we’d hoped for some seven years ago, when it was all dream booking and wish casting.
We know that Kenny’s health and age probably won’t allow for an extended run on top. At this point, that’s ok. AEW has more than enough newer names that it should probably turn the top of the card over to long-term. But AEW is in a position where a Kenny run on top, the run echoing the one from Japan at the end of last decade, isn’t too powerful now. It’s a full circle kind of thing.
The delight of getting one run. Just one. Just one stretch where Kenny shows the world what we knew in 2016 or 2017, the runs that escape conventional description. The ones that seem bestowed on us from a higher power.
Kenny front and center of the biggest show AEW has? Yeah, that’ll do. A couple of months that take us back to the emails and message board discussions, to those feelings of being in the best secret club.
That’s what we were promised, if never out loud.
That’s what we dreamed.
We’ll take just a taste. One for the road, as it were.
The one thing we never had. Kenny, on TV, showing us what could be.
