This was the final of the 2018 D-Oh Grand Prix tournaments.
In something of a theme with Shuji Ishikawa in this tournament previously, it’s a match that lives in an impossibly large shadow, and does not ever really come close to stepping out of it. It’s a historically great match up, and it is not here what it was then.
Fourteen months ago or so, right at what we’d call the end of Shuji Ishikawa’s physical prime, he and HARASHIMA not only had one of the best matches of the year, but one of the best KO-D Openweight Title matches ever, and a match that I think represents the absolute booking peak of DDT, and stands as more than just a match, but as like this summation of all the best qualities of the company preserved in amber. If you cannot interpret context clues, it’s a match I’ve got some real fond feelings for.
This is not that match. They don’t have anything close to the booking support they had in 2016, they cannot create quite the same feeling of importance that elevated that match so much without it, Ishikawa is not physically what he was then, the result here is fairly obvious (one who Takeshita has already beaten vs. someone he hasn’t yet and who he had his biggest career failure against on another big show) and they simply do not aim quite as high as they did then.
Having said all of that, it’s still really great!
In some large part, the match benefits from the ropes breaking at a point, rendering the top useless, and forcing them into something of a different match. They’re fixed, this isn’t like Low Ki vs. Chris Hero at the 2008 Battle of Los Angeles or the Cena/Del Rio broken ring match in 2011, the thing gets fixed. However, save for a middle rope Superplex spot late in the match (one that is clearly teased once to see if it will even work), they lose confidence in the ropes and never again run off them or use them for some of the things HARASHIMA would like to do late in a match off the top rope. On top of narrative utility of a thing like this, it also really helps a match feel different a lot more interesting than it could have been. I hate to play the ’this match would have been worse without [x]’ game, because there is no actual way to separate these things and know and it feels like a wrestling version of a sports fan making excuses, but the problems with the ring really really really benefit this match, and provide these two with the thing they needed to make a post-prime retread work as well as this does.
Also though, firstly and most obviously, it is just a great wrestling match.
Both wrestlers naturally fit super well into each other’s match, Ishikawa getting to brutalize a smaller wrestler, HARASHIMA getting to work more overtly as a pure babyface. They’re also always real precise against each other, and urge each other to throw harder at points than both frequently do — neither being the most consistent elbow thrower in the world at this point — and all of that. They have a match that makes a ton of sense, is beautifully constructed to get as much out of everything as possible, breaks out some newer stuff
Secondly, while they don’t have that level of booking support, it is a stellar example of Tournament Wrestling.
All throughout this inaugural D-Oh, we’ve seen Ishikawa beat guys with one or, at most, two of his big moves. Rarely ever countered or blocked, always successful. HARASHIMA pushes him here in a way that, as a result of the contrast to the body of work over the last month, makes this feel like a much bigger struggle than any of the others. Doubly so when HARASHIMA both counters and then survives almost every single big Shuji Ishikawa bomb in the final stretch. If it can’t capture the feeling of their last match, little touches like this create at least SOME feeling of importance that does them a lot of good, showing the difference between a great tournament like this, and so many of the others. Thought and time and effort put into making these things feel important by the finals, allowing for all of these little moments that feel like individual victories and losses. They’re even able to overcome the obvious nature of the match itself, just slightly, as a result of all that care, making it feel like if this can’t be a match that’s often truly in doubt, it at least feels like Ishikawa’s really accomplished something by pushing through the first wall that he’s really come across so far.
Narratively, on a level beyond just tournament booking and the build up of these big pieces of offense, it is also a delightful story of things just going wrong.
HARASHIMA is wrestling a classic HARASHIMA match against an opponent that history shows is susceptible to the usual attack, only for the collapse of the top rope to change everything. It doesn’t happen immediately, and it’s not the only reason the match goes the way it does, but Ishikawa doesn’t need to run off for momentum or springboard off the top. HARASHIMA does and cannot. It doesn’t help that Ishikawa is also more willing to break the rules than he was before, hurling chairs at HARASHIMA’s face outside, sending him into the barriers at Korakuen, all of that. He puts up a hell of a fight, of course. HARASHIMA adapts to the environment with some fun new pieces of offense, and in a real rarity, even throws some gnarly skull-on-skull headbutts of his own. He avoids every move once, becomes the first to block Shuji’s Kamigoe in DDT, and survives both the Fire Thunder Driver and Splash Mountain, but he can’t ever get his own stuff going right.
Shuji Ishikawa batters him with his own headbutts, lands the Kamigoe this time, and finally the Giant Slam to get past HARASHIMA.
Nothing Ishikawa does is obviously the reason for his success, in the way that HARASHIMA matches often have going for them. There might not even be a real reason. You can chalk it up to him having an urgency he didn’t have before. You can point to Ishikawa using the chairs at ringside and cheating more than he did before. You can also just put it all under one umbrella and say this is about Shuji Ishikawa making up for what he’s lost physically by throwing it all into simple aggression and brutality, which just so happened to come in a match in which HARASHIMA was hurt by the environment in a way Ishikawa wasn’t. That’s all probably true. Alternatively, you can also none of those things. Maybe HARASHIMA just lost. Sometimes, you just lose, and that’s so much crueler and more frustrating, but in the long run, it is so much better.
On what has to be a complete accident, also a fascinating accompaniment to the previous day’s Tanahashi vs. Minoru Suzuki match, with the two great Japanese Aces of the decade once again mirroring each other thematically. Both these crushing defeats against long-term rivals who they’ve had promotion defining matches with, chalked up to circumstances that you can really only put down to just having real bad days at the worst possible times. You could never convince me any of this was planned, but it is one of those lovely little flukes in wrestling, the universe simple deciding to tell roughly the same story in two strikingly different ways, in matches totally representative of their promotions. One based on prolonged set up and that packs a greater emotional punch but that is clearly like ten minutes too long, and the other this less sentimental and far more efficient version of the thing. It’s easy to go with the former, but at the end of the day, I admire the latter so much more.
Not the classic it was, but an outstanding smaller-scale slice of HARASHIMA doing what nobody else really can, and that old DDT magic.