“Hear me, man, he said. There is room on the stage for one beast and one alone. All others are destined for a night that is eternal and without name. One by one they will step down into the darkness before the footlamps. Bears that dance, bears that don’t.”
-Cormac McCarthy,
Blood Meridian
War is a central theme in professional wrestling. Wrestlers upon wrestlers, faction upon faction, it goes on and on in an endless waltz, and it ain’t always pretty. But the song always, always plays on. Regardless of what the mat originally looks like, its tapestry is woven by blood, sweat, tears, and dedication. War was always here. War endures. War is the result of divination. War is the ultimate game because war is at last a force of the unity of existence.
Though the title of this article and its opening quote are taken straight from author Cormac McCarthy’s “Blood Meridian”, the story of The Elite’s blood feud with Blackpool Combat Club strays far from the evils of the old west portrayed in excruciating detail in the novel. It’s a difficult read – it’s heavy and dark and not for the faint of heart. There is no hope. But in this wrestling story, there is a hope, and this hope rests on if these bears dance or if they don’t. In this, the core themes of everlasting war and whether or not people step up or not
In ways, this tale is built upon the crimson dawn of what brought these men to this point. The existence of fighting, the millennia of combative sport, the decades of professional wrestling, the years of war. Kenny Omega vs Jon Moxley.
While Kenny’s is indoctrinated in the harsh fires of Japanese professional wrestling, Jon Moxley exits the way he was born: bloody, screaming, defiant. It’s been their conversation the moment that 2019’s Double or Nothing ended. Throughout the vicious Full Gear Unsanctioned Lights-Out match between Omega and Moxley, throughout the Winter is Coming title match, throughout the Exploding Barbed Wire Deathmatch at 2021’s Revolution, this war of theirs is eternal.
And thus it did persist, beyond their parameters, but all roads lead here. It was always meant to lead here. Like a song in a never-ending loop, Moxley and Omega are always meant to dance.
Two perfectly crafted characters of their own making, the Death Rider and the Best Bout Machine bring out the best of each other. The big match and melodramatic vibes of Kenny seeps into the straightforward and unpretty style of Moxley feels like an affront to the other. As though they exist without the other’s consent.
This war eternal has entered a higher level, one that eschews all pretense and wit and comedy. There’s no joy to be found in it. The drama, the hatred, the outright malice injected into their rivalry has brought many to harm. “Hangman” Adam Page, The Young Bucks, Konosuke Takeshita, Don Callis, Michael Nakazawa, The Dark Order, and Brandon Cutler have all eaten knuckle sandwiches courtesy of the unrelenting menace. The Blackpool Combat Club exists on a small circle, knowing from experience from William Regal’s betrayal that they must always keep their heads on a swivel. Violence is the only answer, the only truth, the only way for them to exist. It’s their purpose.
In the constant turning and spinning of pro wrestling’s wheels, these stories continue. They begin and persist long after the people telling them are in active competition, or even alive for that matter. Stories interlinked with stories with stories interlinked with stories.
These are the stories that shape these characters we see in the squared circle. The Blackpool Combat Club are done being soft and playing to everyone. They’re only here for war and victory and the proverbial bag.
The Elite? They’ve been in this for the same reason they always have been. They love the art of wrestling. They’re tired of everything else getting in the way of that, and at the expense of innocent people, too. Kenny Omega, for example, has had to see The Young Bucks carried away in an ambulance, Konusuke Takeshita torn open, Don Callis ripped at the seams, and though he may not want to admit it, “Hangman” Adam Page being assaulted. Not to mention the last stand that Brandon Cutler and MIchael Nakazawa made with the heart of three-hundred Spartans awaiting the Persians in Thermopylae.
Adding to this brutality is the many months out of action due to the multiple injuries accrued in his career plus more months of suspension due to a backstage incident, and then going on to lose the trios titles to the House of Black. Everything is getting in the way of his art and his dream.
He’s old, he’s tired, and he works with fucking children.
Like a screwdriver impaled upon a turnbuckle pad, this runs deep. This rivalry renewed brings about deep seated fears, regrets, and grudges. In the face of these things, the things that shape man. In the squared circle exists this thing a silent madness made, anticipating the fighters within. The ultimate trade waiting for its ultimate practitioner.
You can bottle it, you can cage it. But it’s the violence that never dies. It dances even now, dancing with the wolves and howling that it will never die. Kenny Omega and Jon Moxley are meant to step this circle for a long time.
In this war, the only thing that matters in the endless night are the bears that dance, and the bears that don’t.
Who will stop dancing once the song is over, and who will keep on?
