Forget Michael Jordan. For true high-flying spectacle, we need to turn to the Yukis, specifically Chicago Bull Yuki Kawamura and Japanese national volleyball star Yuki Ishikawa. (A bonus shout out goes to Japanese volleyball player Yuji Nishida, the “Monster of the Vertical Jump,” who had a spike reach of 11.5 feet/350 centimeters despite being only 5’11″/186 centimeters tall.) However, for all the heights that Kawamura, Ishikawa, and Nishida could achieve, you really had to turn to pro graps to witness people slip the surly bonds of earth through their own athleticism or gimmicks like Lunar Wrestling 2000’s air-compressed springboards.
There was a time when the top rope was the domain of the junior heavyweight wrestlers. If you had access to a time travel machine (and I’m not talking about the Kodak Carousel, you Mad Men Mobs), you could blow some minds in the past with footage of Keith Lee flying through the air. Since the skies were no longer the strict domain of the junior heavyweights, they’ve had to adapt too by borrowing some of the heavy-hitting that the heavyweights had claimed as their space.
In the spirit of the Yukis, Yuji Nishida, and all of Japanese male and female junior heavyweights who redefined the claims that Earth’s gravity had on our bodies, let’s witness some notable junior heavyweight matches from May and June.
In this edition, I covered:
- Ryoya Tanaka (c) vs. Naruki Doi (Dragongate, June 5, 2026)
- Seigo Tachibana (c) vs. Dan Tamura (AJPW, June 18, 2026)
- Dragon Bane (c) vs. Eita (NOAH, June 20, 2026)
- Aran Sano & Tigers Mask (c) vs. Takoyakida & Ultimate Spider Jr. (Osaka Pro, June 7, 2026)
- MUSASHI (c) vs. Sangre Azteca Jr. (Michinoku Pro, June 12, 2026)
- Gaia Hox (c) vs. Van Vert Jack (FREEDOMS, May 31, 2026)
Ryoya Tanaka (c) vs. Naruki Doi
DG Rainbow Gate 2026 – Day 2
June 5, 2026
Cagematch ranking as of 7/1/26: 103
Cagematch rating as of 7/1/26: 8.26
If the Open the Brave Gate Championship was meant to be the proving grounds for younger, less established wrestlers, then Ryoya Tanaka certainly made the most of his opportunity during his reign. Since winning the title from U-T at Kobe Pro-Wrestling Festival in 2025, Tanaka averaged about one defense a month:
- July 2025: Jun Masaoka
- August 2025: Masaaki Mochizuki
- September 2025: JACKY KAMEI, Ryu Fuda, Flamita
- November 2025: Billy Ken Kid
- January 2026: Riiita
- February 2026: Genki Horiguchi
- March 2026: Jason Lee
- April 2026: U-T
- June 2026: Naruki Doi
His making the most of his Open the Brave Gate reign helped to propel him from placing as an honorable mention in the 2025 30 Under 30 list to #19 in 2026’s.
Doi was now the old man who was making a stop in Dragongate here as he wandered Japan. He was a two-time Open the Brave Gate Champion himself, though seventeen years have passed since his last reign. Doi became a freelancer in 2022 and bounced around with runs as the DDT Universal Champion and AJPW World Junior Heavyweight Champion. (He successfully defeated the AJPW title against against both Dan Tamura, whom we’ll talk more about below, in both of his reigns.) As recently as 2024, Doi was recognized as one of the 50 best wrestlers in the world; he placed at #27 in the FSM 50 that year, and he was an honorable mention in 2023.
Based on those credentials, this was my most highly anticipated match-up in this column’s group. That said, Tanaka definitely tried my patience with the Kamen Rider-inspired entrance gear.
There is no reason that Tanaka should escape the same critical ferocity that was applied to Adam Cole‘s or Swerve Strickland‘s or Thunder Rosa‘s or Pentagon Jr.‘s cosplay or Sammy Guevara’s, Brian Cage’s, Rey Mysterio Jr.’s, and Johnny Gargano’s attempts to be Wolverine. Put away your childish things, folks. If the Kamen Rider-inspired mask were that important, Dragongate would have included it in the advertisement for the match. In this case, Doi was my avatar.
Tanaka had the high ground for a moment over Doi after an armdrag, but he did not remember Obi-Wan Kenobi’s (or Sun Tzu’s, if you want to be a little classier about it) critical lesson about maintaining the height advantage. Instead, in his youthful rashness, he followed Doi out of the ring, where Doi promptly overpowered him and dropped him with a suplex on the Korakuen Hall floors. Things didn’t get much better for Tanaka, hopefully a little wiser after smarting from colliding with wood and concrete, when he returned to the ring. Doi held him down with some holds that were meant to annoy Tanaka more than to force him to submit, and Doi dared Tanaka to hit him as hard as he could.
That interaction encapsulated their dynamic in the match. Doi, the veteran, disrespected Tanaka’s ability to keep up with his experience. When Tanaka surprised him with his hard chop, Doi went for the easy riposte and raked his eyes. However, when Tanaka had the time and space to set up his offense, he hit hard, like he did with his flip dive from the top rope to the outside onto Doi. And he could elevate simpler attacks, like delaying a senton back into the ring by balancing on the top rope with his shins.
At 27 years old and with 464 matches under his belt as of this writing, Tanaka qualified as a veteran. However, though he’s been thrust into the spotlight with his Brave Gate reign, he still had room for improvement. Specifically, Tanaka could stand to improve his strikes. His chops generally look and sound fine, but his kicks looked weak because he seemed like he was holding back on them. His forearm strikes later in the match also lacked impact, especially when compared to Doi’s.
I’ve criticized young wrestlers like Kuro for obviously sliding into position for their opponent’s next move, so it was neat to see Doi do the opposite. After Tanaka landed a springboard Swanton Bomb on to Doi, Doi shifted his body to surprise Tanaka with a roll-up. When you are able to position yourself consistently for the next link in the chain, you are able to use small movements intentionally to tell the story of the match.
With Tanaka now on the backfoot, Doi reminded folks why he was in Muscle Outlawz with a beefy release powerbomb.
Doi’s powerbomb and elbow drop kicked the match into high gear. Tanaka tried to overwhelm Doi with flips and rolls while Doi kept it fairly simple. For instance, Doi struck with a running dropkick and the Doi 5, a “sitout fireman’s carry facebuster.” Tanaka responded with something a little more complicated.
Doi chained his combo of a Doi 5 from the middle rope, a brainbuster, a second Doi 5, and the Bakatare Sliding Kick for a serious nearfall. Frustrated by Tanaka’s youthful endurance, Doi tried to use the Muscular Bomb, the third option on the list of Doi’s finishers on his profile on the Puroresu System Wiki. Tanaka wiggled out and countered with a Cross Saber, which is legally distinct from the Cross Rhodes even if they’re both rolling cutters. At this point, Tanaka and Doi each went for their closers, and Doi struck first with the Muscular Bomb. However, the efforts to counter Tanaka and to execute the Muscular Bomb wore Doi out, so he could not pin Tanaka.
That left the door open for Tanaka. He stole Doi’s Bakatare Sliding King, which just irritated Doi and earned Tanaka only a very well-timed one-count kickout. Victory left Tanaka feeling lonely because it wouldn’t meet him at the Cross Rhodes tha crossroads after he hit the Cross Saber, and Doi teased Tanaka with one last jump scare when Tanaka took too long to go to the top for the Stardust Press. (Was Tanaka a huge Cody Rhodes fan?) A big kick settled the issue for Tanaka, and a Stardust Press snuffed out Doi’s chance to become the Brave Gate Champion for the third time.
The potential is clearly there with Tanaka, and the company recognized that by giving him a reign comparable to PAC’s notable run from 2010 and 2011. As of this writing, Tanaka’s reign is the second longest in the title’s history. Only PAC’s was longer, and Tanaka and PAC were currently tied for the number of successful defenses. Tanaka would pull ahead with his next defense, which was against Homare at Kobe Pro-Wrestling Festival 2026. Some small improvements (tightening the strikes, smoothing over some timing because there was a moment where Tanaka looked slightly out of position on his feet for what he was trying to do next) could push Tanaka from very good to great and unlock the road ahead as Dragongate’s next leader.
As expected, Doi was incredible. He brought a crispness that even the Liz Truss lettuce would have envied. More than that, he projected a spirit of meanness that gave Tanaka’s simpler character a great foil. Part of that was from time and familiarity; Doi’s been in the game for 26 years, and he accumulated quite the credibility cache with fans in that time. The match was well worth the time.
You can watch the match and the show on Dragon Gate Network. For an alternate perspective of the match, please read Case Lowe’s review of the show.
Seigo Tachibana (c) vs. Dan Tamura
AJPW Super Power Series 2026 – Day 6
June 18, 2026
Cagematch ranking as of 7/1/26: 194
Cagematch rating as of 7/1/26: 7.96
The 27-years-old Dan Tamura made his debut in 2019 in AJPW, but he didn’t seem to get most folks’ attention until this year. This was despite his reigns as the All Asia Tag Team Champion with Hikaru Sato, his first reign as the AJPW World Junior Heavyweight Champion, or his AJPW TV Six Man Tag Team Championship run with Suwama and Hideki Suzuki. It would be easy to say that Tamura went under the radar because the AJPW undercard had a reputation of being as dry as Okayama. It probably didn’t help that Tamura’s reigns were short: 42 and 86 days as the All Asia Tag Team Champion, 69 days in his first Junior Heavyweight Champion run, and 133 days as the Six Man Tag Team Champion.
Whatever the case may be, I’m glad that Tamura seemed to be picking up attention now. He became a hard hitter, not just because he would wrestle in Hard Hit every now and then, but because he learned under the tutelage of Suwama and Hikaru Sato. (Let’s just hope that Tamura didn’t learn how to be a Pervert from Sato too.) He was an honorable mention in this year’s 30 Under 30 list, even though he didn’t receive a blurb. Here, Tamura challenged Seigo Tachibana for the Junior Heavyweight Championship. Tachibana had no other defenses after beating Atsuki Aoyagi for the title, which seemed astounding to me. Tachibana was an honorable mention too, and Gerard di Trolio described him as “arguably the most underrated wrestler in the business today.” That’s high praise indeed, and I wanted Tachibana and Tamura to impress me.
I both admired and hated Tachibana’s ostentatious glasses.
Cagematch reported that Tamura weighed in at 183 lbs. (83 kg or 13.07 stones), but it was still hard to believe that he was a junior heavyweight from looking at him. That probably boded well for his probable transition to become a heavyweight wrestler. After watching Tanaka and Doi wrestle in the high speed junior heavyweight style that made Dragongate famous, it was refreshing to see Tamura and Tachibana wrestle in the power junior heavyweight style. It was also encouraging to see how much Tamura and Tachibana made a point of engaging the crowd from the start, another difference from how Tanaka approached his match.
Tachibana and Tamura’s approach to the match also felt like it blurred the stylistic line that theoretically divided the junior heavyweights from the heavyweights. I suppose that allowed us to envision Tamura and Tachibana when they moved up in weight class like when Kazumasa Yoshida did in Big Japan. Tachibana took the opening section with a DDT, and he ground Tamura down with a variety of submission holds targeting the neck. Then, Tamura took over with a Samoan Drop and a running shoulder charge in the corner. Tamura also showed that he had surprising foot speed with his evasion and sleeper hold on Tachibana.
Tachibana and Tamura weren’t actually much bigger than the other wrestlers covered in this column. (Tamura was billed at 5’8″/173 cm and 183 lbs./83 kg, while Tachibana was billed at 5’7″/170 cm and 198 lbs./90 kg.)
- Ryoya Tanaka: 5’6″/168 cm and 154 lbs./70 kg
- Naruki Doi: 5’8″/172 cm and 180 lbs./82 kg
- Dragon Bane: 5’8″/172 cm and 176 lbs./80 kg
- Eita: 5’7″/170 cm and 165 lbs./75 kg
- Aran Sano: 5’8″/172 cm and 198 lbs./90 kg
- Tigers Mask: 5’9″/175 cm and 187 lbs./85 kg
- Takoyakida: 5’6″/168 cm and 176 lbs./80 kg
- Ultimate Spider Jr.: 5’9″/175 cm and 176 lbs./80 kg
- MUSASHI: 5’8″/172 cm and 187 lbs./85 kg
- Sangre Azteca Jr.: 5’9″/175 cm and 165 lbs./75 kg
- Gaia Hox: 5’7″/170 cm and 165 lbs./75 kg
- Van Vert Jack: 5’5″/165 cm and 139 lbs./63 kg
However, there was something about the way that AJPW shot Tamura and Tachibana that made them seem bigger than Doi, who was as tall and heavy as Tamura. So, Tachibana’s topé con hilo seemed to land heavily on Tamura.
It could also be because Tamura and Tachibana used what we would think of as heavyweight power moves (uranage, back suplex, a spear) and Tachibana and Tamura’s relative lack of success on the top rope (I think Tachibana tried for a Super Olympic Slam on Tamura, but I can’t say for sure). Or it could have been the way that Tamura violently jerked Tachibana’s body up to the middle rope so he could pound Tachibana’s head into the mat with a draping DDT. In any case, Tamura and Tachibana presented pro graps fans another vision of what junior heavyweight wrestling could look like.
After taking some punishment from Tamura, Tachibana sought to end the match quickly and retain his title. His various pin attempts got him to two counts, but Tamura, playing the power angle again, blocked his roll-up attempt and hoisted him for a release vertical suplex. The commentator shouted “POWER!” in response, which was perfectly apt. Tachibana made his own case with some lariats, a German Suplex, and an Olympic Slam, but Tamura really showed off his strength when he brute forced his way past his handle on Tachibana slipping to still secure him for a Death Valley Driver. It reminded me of Cesaro née Claudio Castagnoli salvaging his sequence with Sami Zayn in their best 2 out of 3 falls match in NXT.
Of course, Tachibana only granted Tamura a one count for all of that, and Tamura returned the favor when he kicked out at one after Tachibana’s sunset driver. The fact that both men tried to rise, stumbled, and fell back to the mat simultaneously really tied that sequence together. As usual, that double down led to Tachibana and Tamura slugging it out from their knees and then their feet, but I appreciated that Tachibana and Tamura portrayed their exhaustion with their feeble swipes at each other. That initial weakness made Tachibana’s and Tamura’s transition to swinging their forearm strikes and lariats with everything they could muster much more exciting. So, when Tamura ended Tachibana’s reign with a big ol’ lariat and a big ol’ powerbomb, the crowd’s excitement was its peak.
Tachibana and Tamura were a pair of lads who seemed beefy (even if they officially weren’t much bigger than the other junior heavyweights in matches in other companies covered in this column), and they definitely slapped each other’s meat. More than that, I appreciated many of their little touches, like swinging so feebly at each other after the double down, their simultaneous falls after kicking out at one, and the way they engaged the crowd. I felt invited in to the match’s excitement in a way that I didn’t in Tanaka vs. Doi.
This was rad. You can watch the match and the show on AJPW’s streaming service.
Dragon Bane (c) vs. Eita
NOAH Eita’s 15th Anniversary Show
June 20, 2026
Cagematch ranking as of 7/1/26: 98
Cagematch rating as of 7/1/26: 8.29
When we last checked in on the GHC Junior Heavyweight Championship, AMAKUSA was still the champion after defending his title against Daiki Odashima. He had one more successful defense against Mark Trew before he lost the title to Dragon Bane, a 30 Under 30 honorable mention, in May. For his first defense, Dragon Bane faced Eita (not E I T A, contrary to what some might say), who had held the title twice before in 2022 and 2025. This show commemorated Eita’s 15th anniversary of his first match, so Bane had to also fight narrative forces as well as Eita himself.
Dragon Bane sported two belts on his way to the ring, which I believe is better than two stacks of dimes. (Take that, Channing Lorenzo.) Bane could have had the KAOZ Tag Team Championship that he held with Alpha Wolf along with his GHC Junior Heavyweight Championship and his GHC Junior Heavyweight Tag Team Championship with him, but I suppose that things were a little more awkward regarding the KAZO Tag Team Championship after Alpha Wolf turned on Bane back in January.
Eita and Bane spiced up what would have been a bog standard open grappling segment with some impressive athletic feats (that would have required athletic feet). For example, Bane spun out of Eita’s grip with an impressively tight body rotation so he could throw Eita with an armdrag.
From there, they showed that they were equals in the ring when they both pulled their dropkick cards from their attack decks.
In child psychology, there was a theory called “after-school restraint collapse” that described the idea that children exhaust their ability to hold their emotions and energy during the school day and that they may release all of that energy at home because they feel safe and comfortable there. One could extend that theory to explain why Eita decided to boot the justifiably wary Bane in the gut under the ruse of a handshake. Eita was wrestling in his home city of Nagano in this match, so he knew that he could rely on being cheered even if he acted like a scoundrel.
Eita and Bane had really good chemistry in this match. Bane’s impressive athleticism made up for his more distant connection with the crowd, while Eita could play the scamp in front of his hometown. Take this exchange, where Bane tried to use his athleticism to counter Eita’s attack, but Eita outsmarted Bane.
Some of Bane’s explosive athletic displays, like his springboard splash to Eita in the entrance ramp, made me reconsider why he was only an honorable mention in this year’s 30 Under 30 list. He was polished from his 13 years of experience (keep in mind that he was 26 as of this writing), and his physical charisma was plain to see. There was a legitimate question about what kind of opportunities he would receive in NOAH; I doubt that he would ever be GHC Heavyweight Champion. However, as Griffin Peltier outlined in their blurb, Bane could be very attractive to the TKO-WWE content machine as they look to secure AAA’s position. (So, we should appreciate Dragon Bane and Alpha Wolf while we still can.)
In the past, I’ve raised concerns about how attacks that require a long runway threatened to break verisimilitude. You might ask, “Why would Eita sit in the crowd for so long while Bane walked along one side of the ring and then sprinted back at him?” You might also answer, “Because Dragon Bane’s tope con hilo over the barricade almost forced me to give in to astonishment.” It felt dangerous in the way that Homicide’s tope con hilos did, and NOAH’s production staff shot it very well by relying on the hard camera to capture the setup and the execution. Cutting to a handheld shot at the point of impact would have just lessened the feeling that the zoom-in captured.
Damn right the fan in the black NOAH t-shirt gave Bane a double high five and a hug after. Let’s let Tuco have the last word on that.
Still, we were in Eita’s home town, so the crowd still favored their fella and chanted for him to get back to his feet. Bane dragged Eita back to the ring and decided to start playing the heel after generating such a spectacle. He targeted Eita’s right arm and slowed the match with some stomps and la tapatia. Eita smartly gave the crowd a little red meat to keep their attention while Bane controlled him in this segment until he took control with a headscissors takedown and a punchy dropkick. He then rewarded the faithful with his own killer Alto BASTA.
Eita kept the hits coming with an impressive Falcon Arrow Crash, which was in line with Dan Tamura’s and MUSASHI’s similar feats of strength in their respective matches.
Despite Eita’s repeated request that Bane “por favor no molestar Eita,” Bane continued to wail on Eita when he had the chance. It’s hard to describe Bane as anything more sophisticated than “cool” when he shushed the crowd and then quickly kicked Eita in the face. The section where they faked each other out was also really fun, and they kept it on the right side of wacky. They went back and forth with chops and kicks too and moved up to bigger exchanges like Bane’s standing Spanish Fly and Eita’s Trauma (a pumphandle lifted and spun into a knee lift, not the prevailing theme of contemporary “elevated” horror films).
Powered by his home town’s devotion, Eita survived Bane’s hurricanarana from the top rope and an impressive shooting star press. Again, Eita and Bane traded offense, this time a hurricanarana and a poisoned hurricanarana, which allowed Bane to his Santa Maria pumphandle driver. At the end, Eita wiggled out of Bane’s Twisterbane electric chair driver and drove his head into the mat with his own poisoned hurricanrana. Bane tried one last, desperate roll-up from rolling through a hurricanrana that yielded a great near fall from Eita. Eita cycled through some more of his war crate (an Angel’s Wings, the Imperial Uno superkick) until he dug up the Salamander, a casadora victory roll from the top rope. (Eita had teased the Hidalgo too earlier in the match, but he didn’t need to unearth that superweapon.)
Sometimes, you just want to see two charismatic wrestlers do cool moves to each other because you can just as easily satisfy your hunger for pro graps with candy. One could certainly gripe about how Eita and Bane walked through this match as if nothing had hurt. If you can give the crowd the ol’ razzle dazzle, you might get away with not having much substance other than “Eita is wrestling for the title in his home town, and he cannot lose.” Bane was magnificent; he seemed to have a strong command over all facets of wrestling (except for selling, which he wasn’t asked to do here). Eita reminded everyone just how many great-looking moves he had in his repertoire. This was rad.
You can watch the match and the show on Wrestle Universe.
Aran Sano & Tigers Mask (c) vs. Takoyakida & Ultimate Spider Jr.
Osaka Pro Ultimate Spider Jr. 20th Anniversary & Takoyakida 21st Anniversary
June 7, 2026
Cagematch ranking as of 7/1/26: 274
Cagematch rating as of 7/1/26: 7.79
We last saw Aran Sano and Tigers Mask in their successful defense of their OPW Tag Team Championship against the VerteX pairing of SUZAKU and TiiiDA, who had marched their way through the Osaka Tag Festival. Ryoya Matsufusa and Sho Mizuno, another pairing of VerteX members, then tried their hand at toppling Sano and Tigers Mask, but they were also unsuccessful. So, we came to the joint celebration of Ultimate Spider Jr.’s 20th anniversary and Takoyakida’s 21st anniversary of becoming a wrestler for Sano and Tigers Mask’s next test. (While a 21st anniversary seems awfully specific and contrary to the rule of fives, I support Osaka Pro’s determination to not waste an opportunity to celebrate.)
Sano and Tigers Mask kept to their winning formula by sending Tigers Mask out first to face Takoyakida. The children at the Azalea Taisho serenaded them with dueling chants, which seemed like a first. Takoyakida gave Tigers Mask a very disrespectful and very loud slap to the face, which sent them off to the races to see who could pummel the other’s face with forearms strikes into mochi first. A dropkick sent Mask out of the ring, so Sano invited himself in to get sent out of the ring by Spider and Takoyakida. That then set up Takoyakida’s tope very neatly.
Since Sano took the brunt of the force from Takoyakida’s dive, they brought him back inside the ring to deliver more pain. Sano, vivacious and brawny, had a bounty of energy and took both men on, and he wiped Spider out with a super gutwrench suplex. That reset the match back to Tigers Mask and Takoyakida. Mask whupped on Takoyakida while Takoyakida tried to survive, which was an admirable show of humility for someone whose anniversary the company was celebrating.
Ultimate Spider Jr. had much more luck against both Tigers Mask and Sano, but Sano interjected himself again to save Mask. Mask and Spider cleared the ring for Takoyakida to get his time with Sano, and Sano stopped Takoyakida in his tracks with a burly belly to belly suplex. Sano then had his moment of impressive strength when he caught Takoyakida’s running seated lariat over the middle rope in the corner, shifted him to his shoulders, and brought him down with a Death Valley Driver. Again, Sano showed that he could take on both men at the same time when he also took Spider out with a crucifix powerbomb.
Considering how much of a beating Ultimate Spider Jr. and Takoyakida took and how little they were able to do against Tigers Mask and Sano, the challenge before them in the match’s closing was to make a convincing case for victory. They smartly focused on wearing Tigers Mask down since there was no sense in beating the promising (and more importantly, young) Sano. They double teamed Mask until Spider tried to put him away with the Falcon Arrow (con el trato), but it was not successful (as usual). Sano saved Mask again after Spider and Takoyakida teamed up on him with an elevated cutter, and he got one last chance to impress by taking on both opponents with his forearm strikes.
Spider and Takoyakida were able to slow Sano down with a trip, a roll-up, and Spider’s flip senton that splatted on Sano and the floor. That left Mask with Takoyakida, who used the power of the rule of three to finally put Mask away. He tried the Rock Bottom, then a top rope elbow drop, and finally a top rope Rock Bottom to beat Mask and win the titles for himself and Spider Jr.
It was critical to me that Sano didn’t take the fall; everything else was gravy. Ultimate Spider Jr., Takoyakida, and Tigers Mask put together a convincing case that the two of them were just too much for Tigers Mask, who could not develop a rhythm with Sano in this match. Being isolated and double teamed so often just wore Tigers Mask out, and even when Sano bought him time by taking both opponents on solo, it was still too much for Tigers Mask. It was a good story well told in the match.
You can watch the match and the show on Osaka Pro’s YouTube page.
MUSASHI (c) vs. Sangre Azteca Jr.
Michinoku Pro Michinoku 2026 Tokyo Conference Vol. 1 ~ VIVA!MEXICO! ~
June 12, 2026
Cagematch ranking as of 7/1/26: 127
Cagematch rating as of 7/1/26: 8.15
After MUSASHI unseated Pantera Jr. for Michinoku Pro’s Tohoku Junior Heavyweight Title in March, he defended the title against ARASHI in May. Now, the 23-years-old Sangre Azteca Jr., a teammate of ARASHI in Demonios and another 30 Under 30 honorable mention, had his own chance at MUSASHI’s title.
Though Sangre Azteca Jr. was born, he had made Japan his home base in 2025 and 2026. In 2025, 70 of his 81 matches (according to Cagematch, so we might have missed matches in Mexico that were not recorded in the database) were in Michinoku Pro. He also made cameo appearances in Big Japan, DDT, and Dragongate. This continued in 2026, where 36 of his 43 matches were in Michinoku Pro with cameos in Dragongate, Big Japan, DDT, and ChocoPro.
It must be said that Azteca’s entrance gear was top notch. Compared to Tanaka’s Kamen Rider-inspired mask, it was just less dorky.
Azteca and MUSASHI dispensed with the pretense of the opening lock-up and went straight to the chop battle. When MUSASHI proved that he had the heavier hands, Azteca changed tactics and sped the match up. That worked out well for him, and he capped it off with a tope suicida where the impact was accentuated by Michinoku Pro’s limited camera position options.
Ok, who brought the airhorn to Korakuen Hall for this show?
Back inside the ring, Azteca and MUSASHI continued to lean more on the puroresu side of the lucharesu style. After another chop battle, Azteca knocked MUSASHI off of the apron with another very high dropkick. After stopping Azteca on the middle turnbuckle, MUSASHI dumped on his head on the apron with a DDT. That opened Azteca’s neck as MUSASHI’s avenue of attack, as he then directed a submission hold and another DDT against Azteca’s neck. (MUSASHI tended to cup his hands on his chops, which smothered the sound of his hand hitting Azteca’s flesh. I admit that was a very trivial nitpick, but I wish he opened his hand on his chop so that they would sound better.)
After MUSASHI taunted him to fight back, Azteca drop MUSASHI back with a spin kick that I had to rewind a few times to check how it connected with MUSASHI’s head. He kept the pressure on with a neat Arabian Press and a very indie-riffic rolling jumping kick. It seemed that Azteca’s chops only woke MUSASHI up because MUSASHI reeled off some running elbows, an Atomic Drop, and a running dropkick to reassert his control of the match. However, Azteca just crashed through MUSASHI’s window with a pretty Fosbury Flop. I suppose the company really liked it too since they played several replays of it.
Now in control, Azteca taunted MUSASHI with little kicks to head. They had another chop battle, which made me concerned that Azteca and MUSASHI were unsure of how to escalate the match further since their striking was consistently even throughout the match thus far. They answered those concerns with a flurry of attacks that was like when two teams (let’s say the NY Liberty and the Minnesota Lynx) trade baskets in transition. MUSASHI’s Exploder Suplex capped the flurry off and gave the crowd a chance to applaud. Once they caught their breath, Azteca took the crowd’s breath away with his modified Code Red.
Ever the veteran, MUSASHI bided his time until Azteca made a mistake. He had his opening when Azteca charged at MUSASHI in the corner and landed on his head, and he capitalized with a German Suplex, a thrust kick, and a Falcon Arrow. MUSASHI looked like he had to earn the chance to do the deal. I appreciated that we saw how much of an effort it was for MUSASHI.
Azteca capitalized on MUSASHI’s ill-timed Estrella Futuro frog splash from the top rope with a Blue Thunder Bomb. Feeling desperate, MUSASHI tried to attack from height again, but Azteca made him pay again by sending him back to the mat with a Frankensteiner.
Later, either the match broke down or Azteca and MUSASHI showed that they were some of the greatest actors in wrestling history. When Azteca tried to lift MUSASHI over for a back suplex several times, at first I thought that they were giving a demo on how struggle enhanced anticipation. However, when Azteca and MUSASHI finally elevated for the back suplex, MUSASHI seemed to slip out of Azteca’s grip. MUSASHI scrambled to roll Azteca up, but they seemed confused about how Azteca should position his body since MUSASHI had to bend Azteca in half for a pin attempt. However, since MUSASHI was able to switch to his rolling German Suplexes from that pin, it was entirely possible that this was mostly what they had planned, and the only issues were MUSASHI slipping out of Azteca’s grip and MUSASHI’s attempt to position Azteca for the pin.
MUSASHI really laid the offense on with a super Exploder Suplex and multiple Estrella Futuro splashes. Just when I wished that Azteca had fought back a little more during this section, Azteca rolled MUSASHI up to stop his momentum. A few lariats and Azteca’s own version of the Muscular Bomb sent MUSASHI completely to the defensive, and a Muscle Buster Driver ended the match.
Whereas I had a hard time latching on to MUSASHI’s match with Pantera Jr., I had no such issue with this match. There were moments that felt like genuine struggle between them, and both men did a lot of cool stuff to keep the audience engaged. Every time I felt like the match was about to lose my attention, MUSASHI and Sangre Azteca Jr. did something to reel me back in and demand my attention. This was the most pleasant surprise in this pack of matches.
The less said about Michinoku Pro’s patched up and dingy mat, the better.
You can watch the match and the show on Wrestle Universe.
Gaia Hox (c) vs. Van Vert Jack
FREEDOMS Deathmatch Festival
May 31, 2026
Cagematch ranking as of 7/1/26: N/A
Cagematch rating as of 7/1/26: N/A
I’ve wanted to see Gaia Hox in action for quite some time, but most of the previously available footage was of Hox in tag or multi-man matches. This was the first footage of Hox in a singles match that I had ever come across, so I was very excited to see if the hype around the man from Taiwan bore any scrutiny. Both Hox (26) and Van Vert Jack (21) were under 30 years of age as of this writing, so I also considered this match as very advanced scouting for the 2027 30 Under 30 project. Hox was an honorable mention in the 2025 and 2026 30 Under 30; Jack was an honorable mention in the 2026 list.
Though the advertisement showed Jack holding his NWA International Lightweight Tag Team title and didn’t show Hox holding any belts, this match actually had Hox’s King of FREEDOM World Junior Heavyweight title at stake. Jack and Hox broke out their flip flops early (this isn’t about you, Cabana Man Dan) as they tried to outshine the other. The larger Hox, feeling a little outmatched by Jack’s athleticism, opted to slow the match down with a headlock on the mat, and the timing for it generally felt right. Jack and Hox had given the crowd a tease of their high flying to whet their imaginations. Then, they punctuated the setup to the dynamic that Hox and Jack would have for the match with Jack’s tornillo.
Hox, the older, bigger, but somehow not the more experienced wrestler (Hox had 10 years to Jack’s 13), tried to slow Jack down again by baiting him into brawling around the ring. Hox showed cocky indignation pretty well, and he was able to switch gears easily from slowly pacing around the ring to show that he was a heel to sprinting from corner to corner to attack Jack. He also made the effort to engage the crowd, though he didn’t have much luck with the 316 fans at the Grand Messe Kumamoto even when he got his comeuppance for shrugging off Jack’s forearm strikes when Jack kicked him in the face. Jack chained together some attacks and looked like he had springs for knees when he bounced off the apron to jump back into the ring and land on Hox with a springboard crossbody.
Relying on his size advantage again, Hox took the match back by punching and kicking Jack. He made use of Jack’s slightness by throwing him overhead into this stalling variation of the Northern Lights Suplex.
Their setup for the double down was pretty neat: Jack landed on his feet from Hox’s German Suplex attempt, and he retaliated with a superkick. Hox bounced up from the superkick and punched Jack in the face, which knocked Jack backward into the ropes. That gave him enough space to jump up and throw Hox down with a headscissors. However, Hox caught himself on the bottom rope as he was rolling out of the ring, and he brought himself back into the ring to knock Jack down with a dropkick. It absolutely did not stand up to scrutiny if you considered how momentum worked under our current understanding of physics, but it looked cool. So, the rule of cool reigned supreme here, and even the crowd at the Grand Messe Kumamoto applauded their efforts.
Jack and Hox used the brawl on their knees out of the double down card, but they switched it up slightly by cutting the exchange short when Jack knocked him woozy with a forearm strike. They had a standing forearm strike exchange that would have gotten the yellow smiling face from the classic GamePro rating scale. However, Jack and Hox closed the match with the spectacular. Hox countered Jack’s headscissors with a spinning cutter, but Jack collected himself to sprint along the top rope to plant Hox with a spectacular springboard DDT.
Hox survived that and Jack’s increasingly desperate pin attempts, and he deserved credit for taking a couple of those pins to the very edge of 2.9. To close the match, Hox showed off his own athleticism with a handspring enzuigiri to Jack, who was on the top turnbuckle. He then crushed Jack with one of the safer BRAINBUSTAs I’ve seen in a while.
Unfortunately, the ending felt flat. After the BRAINBUSTA, Jack still had a bit of life in him, and he slapped and kicked Hox down. Hox caught a running Jack for a side slam. Jack kicked out of the pin from that, and Hox lifted him for a spinning release suplex. That was much less exciting than the BRAINBUSTA, and it was also unfortunately the end of the match.
I thought that Hox had some good building blocks, and I could imagine him refining those pieces to become a solid junior heavyweight. Jack showed that he was capable of spectacle, but he really needed better, more professional gear. He had issues with his jean shorts throughout the match; the pink belt did nothing to hold them up. He was capable of spectacular feats like the springboard DDT, but he, like many young wrestlers, could stand to improve his strikes and his direct engagement with the crowd. Because he can provide the spectacular, the crowd wanted to cheer for him. He just needed to give them some of his personality to continue to encourage them.
You can watch the match on FREEDOMS’ YouTube page.
If I had to rank these five junior heavyweight showcases, I’d go with:
- Seigo Tachibana (c) vs. Dan Tamura (AJPW, June 18, 2026)
- Dragon Bane (c) vs. Eita (NOAH, June 20, 2026)
- Ryoya Tanaka (c) vs. Naruki Doi (Dragongate, June 5, 2026)
- MUSASHI (c) vs. Sangre Azteca Jr. (Michinoku Pro, June 12, 2026)
- Aran Sano & Tigers Mask (c) vs. Takoyakida & Ultimate Spider Jr. (Osaka Pro, June 7, 2026)
- Gaia Hox (c) vs. Van Vert Jack (FREEDOMS, May 31, 2026)
Next time: The present for Stardom is so bright that we need to wear shades to check out some highlights from this year’s 5STAR Grand Prix. And we get to check in on Chi Chi’s feud with former tag team partner Komomo Minami. This time, Chi Chi brought Sareee with her, and Minami brought Marigold World Champion Miku Aono to set up a potentially explosive situation.
