Jmare007
pico pal q lee
I hate Bleacher Report but lately they've been putting some very interesting stuff when it comes to wrestling, like this one right here.
https://bleacherreport.com/articles...hoot-kicks-how-daniel-bryan-conquered-the-wwe
https://bleacherreport.com/articles...hoot-kicks-how-daniel-bryan-conquered-the-wwe
On Monday night, lines blurred as storyline and truth came face-to-face in a dangerous dance. Daniel Bryan stood in the middle of the WWE ring and told John Cena, the promotion's standard bearer for the better part of a decade, that he wasn't a real wrestler. That Cena, despite 11 WWE Championship reigns, was no Daniel Bryan—and never would be.
At SummerSlam on Sunday, the two will meet in the main event in a match bigger than either man. They will stand in opposite corners representing two distinct visions of professional wrestling.
Cena is the modern Hulk Hogan, a better version of Bryan's favorite wrestler growing up, the infamous Ultimate Warrior. He's the spitting image of what WWE promoter Vince McMahon has spent decades telling fans a wrestler is supposed to look like.
Muscle bound, handsome and charismatic as a television evangelist, Cena is the prototype of what a WWE Superstar should be. He's the business's top performer, the headliner who draws huge crowds all over the world.
And Daniel Bryan?
All of 5'8" and 185 pounds, he's the best wrestler in the world. Nothing more and nothing less.
He spent eight years proving it night after night in high school gyms, warehouses and National Guard armories all over the country. And, finally given the chance in WWE, he intends to prove it all over again in the promotion that matters most.
"I'm really looking forward to this match," he told Bleacher Report. "I was very fulfilled with the matches I had with CM Punk last year. It was a chance to do what I love on a much grander scale.
"It was interesting because people had always said of the stuff I did on the independents—'It's great, it's great wrestling, but it will never connect with a large audience. It's too abstract.' It was interesting to be able to go out there and prove people wrong. That's never been a motivation for me, but I love the idea that the wrestling I love, the mass audience loves, too. They just hadn't gotten a chance to see a lot of that kind of stuff."
By "that kind of stuff," Bryan means the sort of wrestling match that transcends the cheap pratfalls and angry arm-waving interviews most critics associate with a form of entertainment best suited for children. It's the kind of intricate and detailed physical theater that places Bryan squarely among America's very best artists. Like all great artists, he didn't emerge fully formed. His journey to greatness started, in many ways, in front of just a few dozen fans—and the best wrestlers of his generation.
October 27, 2001: Vallejo, California
Old wrestlers aren't inclined to praise the generations that followed them into the business. Each new generation, it seems, is softer than the one that preceded it. They know less than these elder statesmen and even the biggest stars would have been lucky just to have had a job in the good old days when men were men and Lou Thesz carried the World Championship with dignity and pride.
Only, suddenly, Red Bastien wasn't so sure of any of that. Not anymore. Not after Daniel Bryan. At the King of the Indies, an all-star tournament of the very best independent talent in the country promoted by Roland Alexander, Bastien, considered by his peers one of the most entertaining wrestlers of the 1970s, saw a match between Bryan (then wrestling under his real name of Bryan Danielson) and Brian "Spanky" Kendrick that blew him away.
"Red Bastien said the older guys wouldn't want to admit this, but Danielson was better than they were in their primes," Wrestling Observer editor Dave Meltzer said. "[Former AWA champion] Nick Bockwinkle went up to him and said, 'I would have been proud to have been on any card you were on.' They saw him as main event-caliber talent."
Meltzer, one of the most influential players behind the scenes in wrestling, was also impressed with what he saw.
"I called Jimmy Hart, who was starting up a new promotion with Hulk Hogan, the next day and said, 'Look, these guys are really good.' But the mentality was 'I've never heard of them.' They were looking to rehash guys from the '80s and '90s. But he was ready and that was 12 years ago. He was already great in 2001."
Hart may have been the only one not impressed by the talent on display that weekend. The tournament included future stars like Samoa Joe, Christopher Daniels and A.J. Styles. And though Alexander says he lost money, the idea of combining these stars from around the country had wings. It was a launching pad toward stardom.
"That King of Indies tournament opened the door. At the time it was a big deal," Kendrick remembered. "That was probably the 500th time I wrestled Bryan. We broke in together, got shipped to Memphis together. We'd wrestled each other so many freaking times, but that one was special."
For Danielson, "the American Dragon," it was one of the first signs that a childhood dream might actually come true. As a kid, wrestling was everything. He and his friends had their own promotion and a suspicious Bryan Danielson-sized hole appeared in his family's living room wall one day after a particularly rambunctious match. Despite standardized test scores that could have earned him an academic scholarship, Danielson left home immediately after high school to attend wrestling school with WWE star Shawn Michaels.
"I never really thought of doing anything else," Danielson said.
Soon after the King of the Indies, his first big break, he moved in to Alexander's house to train students at the All Pro Wrestling school. His passion and focus, even then, especially then, were scarily single-minded.
"His bedroom had no furniture except for a mattress to sleep on," Alexander said. "He had a nice 27-inch TV and wrestling video tapes all over the room. They were stacked waist high everywhere. My guess is he had 300 to 500 tapes and he almost never left his bedroom. He was the deepest student of the game I've ever met."
His diverse knowledge of craft would pay off. The King of Indies soon spawned Ring of Honor (ROH), an indy all-star promotion that catered to a knowledgeable niche audience of hardcore wrestling fans. Danielson was in the main event of the promotion's first show and became an integral part of the brand, which made its money selling DVDs of events to wrestling fans craving the kind of in-ring excitement they weren't getting from WWE at the time.
Gabe Sapolsky, then ROH's booker, was responsible for the creative direction of the company. Danielson, he says, could be counted on to come up with 30 minutes every night that were guaranteed to be special.
"When I booked Bryan, he had almost complete freedom," Sapolsky, who now runs Dragon Gate USA, said. "I really wouldn't question him, even on finishes of matches. Bryan made my life easier. Bryan is like that ace in baseball, a pitcher like Justin Verlander. When you're bullpen is tired and you're on a losing streak, you know you can put him out there and have a chance at a complete-game shutout. I wouldn't be where I am today without him."
Danielson was a maverick. He lived in a dojo in Japan and spent months in England in a quest to expand his repertoire of moves. The Japanese style was his favorite, but he soon fell in love with the intricate British mat work as well. Soon he was studying catch wrestling and incorporating legitimate holds into his matches.
"He could drop out of a plane anywhere in the world that has wrestling," Kendrick said. "And he'd figure out what works real quick."
While others were content to develop a style that worked for them and keep with it as long as it lasted, wrestling the same match over and over again for years, Danielson's game was in a constant state of flux. It served him well, not just in ROH, but in Japan and for other independents across the country where he was in high demand.
"He lived wresting and would always come up with new ways to reinvent himself," Sapolsky said. "He would take off two or three months and come back with something new. He was always making subtle changes, not just to his wrestling but to his appearance. He'd add a beard or shave it off. Suddenly, he'd come out in a robe. Bryan always had evolution in mind. He'd take old moves and stop doing them, even if they were popular. He wanted to be sure he never felt stale. That's part of being a student of the game."
When high-flying and spectacular dives were en vogue, the typical American Dragon match was more subdued. Alexander says that's the product of an early string of concussions that curbed some of Danielson's daredevil tendencies. Whatever the reason, the result was a subtle and nuanced series of matches that helped him stand out in a sea of wrestlers doing similar stunts and spots.
"On the independents, it was very important to me to go out there and have the best match possible," Danielson said. "It's about not being satisfied with your previous performances. When you're in the same scenario the next week, ask, 'How can I do that better?' It's all been an evolution of style, really."