A Farewell to A Dragon
Bryan Danielson, “The American Dragon,” retired last night. After fighting for what seemed like years to be cleared by WWE, and after seeing independent specialists who medically cleared him, Bryan walked out in front of his hometown fans and said that he took another test, which indicated that maybe he wasn’t as fine as he thought he was. And because of that, because he wanted to be able to have a family and create new memories, Bryan walked away. He walked away from something that he loved to do so much, he nearly got into a fight with Triple H (who is a real-life executive in WWE) when one of his matches was stopped.
Bryan told us a lot of stuff. He told us that within the first five months of starting to be a professional wrestler, he had suffered three concussions. That he had suffered a lot of concussions over his 16-year career. Some of the things he didn’t say, we also remember. He had a match with Japanese wrestler Takeshi Morishima in Ring of Honor, and got punched in the face so hard his retina detached. He wrestled another 10 minutes and finished. He was concussed early into his most magical evening, Wrestlemania 30, and because of it he doesn’t remember the end of the night, when he stood tall in front of 70,000 screaming fans and millions more watching at home. His father passed away while he was away working. A young boy who had worked his way into the hearts of nearly everyone he met at WWE also passed away. He had to relinquish his WWEWHC belt due to injury, and then a year later, he did it again as Intercontinental Champion.
Bryan Danielson is a tough man. Some might say his heart was bigger than his brain, but he is a tough man. And not just physically. He endured a career that started with him being undercut throughout his time on “old” NXT. He was fired after “choking” Justin Roberts with a tie, and was brought back to round out Team WWE when they wrestled the Nexus. He won the United States Championship, but didn’t wrestle at Wrestlemania. The next year, he was the World Heavyweight Champion, and lost it to Sheamus in 18 seconds. He was put into an “anger management” comedy angle with Kane, and quite literally turned shit into gold. When WWE had a show called Saturday Morning Superstars, he was THE DAZZLER, with a hilarious cowlick and an odd fascination with bears. And he simply couldn’t be ignored. The fans would not let WWE ignore him. So, in an interesting parallel with another fan favorite, they cheered for him. And cheered. And cheered. They interrupted an important kayfabe moment (the unifying of the WWE and WHC belts and lineages). They literally hijacked RAW because they wanted Bryan to succeed, to show that you didn’t have to look like Batista or John Cena or even Roman Reigns to be the face of the company. And WWE, in an uncommon stroke of genius, took that and ran with it. And they made so much money on Bryan Danielson, as is their right.
I will admit that Bryan Danielson didn’t get me back into wrestling. That honor, for better or worse, goes to none other than CM Punk and his infamous “Pipe Bomb” promo. Had it not been for that, I wouldn’t have learned about Ring of Honor, and in turn CHIKARA and Japanese puroresu. I wouldn’t have learned about the incredible, year-long time-travel storyline that CHIKARA put together that fooled practically everyone. I wouldn’t have known where guys like Punk, Bryan, Seth Rollins, Samoa Joe, Kevin Owens, etc. etc., cut their teeth and made their names.
But Bryan Danielson, or Daniel Bryan, or THE DAZZLER…he made wrestling real again. I know that wrestling isn’t real, that it’s scripted. I know that the wins and losses don’t really matter, and the stories begin and end in WWE boardrooms. I know that no matter how much I may want it to be different, eventually WWE gets Their Guy. Like the saying goes, “the house always wins.” But when I saw Bryan perform, I forgot all of that. It was like I was a little kid again, believing wholeheartedly that if I cheered hard enough, and complained loudly enough, that I could will Bryan to move mountains. This 5'9", 190-lb., little weirdo vegan who loves his wife and gardening and professional wrestling. And I wasn’t the only one.
They wanted to make Bryan a member of The Wyatt Family. They wanted to take away all the things about Daniel Bryan that we loved, and make him a willing thrall of Bray. And we cheered so loud and hard that WWE couldn’t ignore it anymore. And the above happened. That slow “YES!” is one of the most incredible crowd moments that WWE has ever had, right up there with Stone Cold arriving to help Mankind win the then-WWF Championship on RAW. That’s what “being over” really means.
And here’s the best thing: That over-ness isn’t unique. Bryan Danielson isn’t unique. I mean that in the best way possible. He isn’t unique. His ability to command a crowd, to get them behind him, isn’t unique. WWE has plenty of wrestlers who can do what Daniel Bryan did. They have men and women who can go out there and be the best, most turned-up-to-11 versions of themselves that they can be, and will the crowd into loving them just as much as they love Bryan. It just depends on WWE loosening the leash, on forgetting for a moment about their stockholders or their merchandise sales or their fear of the unknown, and just allow things to organically happen, and assert their influence later. If Roman Reigns gets to be himself (and he’s pretty funny and likable as himself), instead of the NEW JOHN CENA that WWE seems to want him to be, he would be just as beloved as Bryan. If Sami Zayn comes to the WWE roster full-time and they let him connect with fans the way he did in NXT, the way he did as El Generico, he will be just as beloved as Bryan.
And that should probably be the most important lesson for this. We can talk about the dangers of professional wrestling, as there are thousands of Daniel Bryans wrestling in parking lots and high school auditoriums, destroying their bodies and minds for a few hundred bucks and a chance for something greater. But for them, and for the relatively more comfortable performers in WWE, the Final Lesson of Bryan Danielson is to love wrestling, to want to be the best at wrestling. To let your character be the best version of you that you can put forward. To never stop trying. Because one day, the same people who chanted “YES” for him, will chant for you too.
Thank you, Bryan Danielson. And farewell.
