Seriously.
I’m not talking about the real life stuff. Within the confines of its own fictional storytelling, wrestling is dangerous as hell; on any given night, you can get your ass whooped in the parking lot, whooped backstage, whooped on your way to the ring, whooped in a match, whooped after a match, , whooped on your way to the ring, whooped in a match, whooped after a match, whooped backstage after a match, whooped trying to leave the arena, whooped at the hotel, whooped trying to leave the hotel, whooped trying to go home, and if you're really on someone's radar for a whooping, they will break into your house and whoop you there.
If you have kids, some people will wait fifteen to twenty years in order to whoop your kids’ asses for something you did in the ring.
That's some ridiculous shit right there... and that's not even taking into account that (again, within the confines of its own fictional storytelling) some bammas got supernatural powers and are either undead, conjuring thunderbolts, pyromaniacs, or all three.
With all that said: in wrestling, what do you do when you’ve done everything?
Number one: you don’t quit.
Number two: you find something new to do.
Number three: you do something that is completely unexpected.
Enter the New Day.
Xavier Woods, Kofi Kingston, and Big E have been a cornerstone of WWE and the wrestling industry at large (yes, they are THAT important) for a decade and counting, racking up all the accolades and then some… and people have been frothing at the mouth for a break-up for at least half that time, if not more. Forcible attempts to keep the trio apart (i.e. those damn Drafts) have been transparent and have always managed to never truly stick. Recently, they’ve been in a completely different position that they’re not used to: battered from all sides, losing damn near every match they find themselves in, and struggling to stay afloat as the walls close in around them. These dudes are hurt- physically, sure, but also in a way that rarely gets explored in wrestling: they’re hurt emotionally. They are not themselves. They're not communicating, which is understandable, as one of hardest things to do is to tell someone you care about that you are hurting. That things don't feel right. That you know that something is missing from your life and you don't know what to do.
That you need help.
The pain is expressed in an unhealthy fashion. They lash out at each other when their ire could easily and rightfully be directed elsewhere (i.e. Karrion Kross and his continued machinations, Jey Uso for his role in destroying Woods’ crown), causing less internal strife in the process.
But…
They don’t know how to go through all that pain and turmoil without actually going through it.
A change is required… and if you can’t go back to how things used to be, then you make sure sure no one else can; you evolve by destroying the foundations of what used to be… even if it means hurting one of your own to do so.
Which brings us to the ten year anniversary celebration of the New Day: Big E is still out due to injury with no timetable to return, if ever, and things have deteriorated between Xavier Woods and Kofi Kingston so badly that everyone figured the Power of Positivity was on its way out.
It wasn’t.
It was changing.
Woods and Kofi were positively done with the same old shit.
The lead-up to this turning point was a reminder of what had been: pictures of Booty-O boxes and triumphant moments were on display, scenes of better days. Woods and Kofi looked moved by the atmosphere yet cautiously subdued and pensive, as if they were unsure how to navigate what was coming. Recognizing something’s missing, the crowd brings up Big E… and this is where the new chapter begins. In a masterful bit of avoidance and foreshadowing, the missing “E” in the New Day’s offered thanks is put solely on the audience with the phrase “-each and every one of you!”. This gets backed up when Woods flat out states the audience is not at fault for what’s about to take place…
...and then Big E shows up, and everything becomes crystal clear.
The New Day never truly changed.
Something drastic had to be done so that the group could continue in a different form.
Big E gets to the ring and brings up just about everything he could in order to smooth things over, and his teammates are receptive until everything he’s saying right up until he states that he’ll serve as their manager until he’s medically cleared. You can see the shift in body language before it happens, and when Xavier Woods responds to Big E’s statement with a simple question, the situation gets infinitely more complicated.
“...now? Now you wanna come back?”
It’s a damn good question with a lot of implications. Sure, the group might not have gone through so much turmoil if Big E returned as their manager in lieu of an in-ring return, but without struggle, there is no progress; if that did happen, then they would have stayed stagnant over the past few years, so the question itself is very pertinent in this fictional presentation of it. The feel-good version of this has Big E present in a different, yet physical way, and they all grow together, if possible. What we’re getting has a lot of teeth; the actual notion of a break-up is open-ended; Big E’s attempts to get a definitive answer are met with silence from his brothers. Even more telling is Kofi’s solemn rejection of Big E’s attempt at a hug; for now, this is not a split that will end in fisticuffs (and it shouldn’t), but an ideological one, as if this next iteration of the New Day is going to go places and do things that they don’t want Big E involved in.
At least, for the time being.
There’s a sneaky aspect of this that might get ignored, but I’m going to put it out there: this is also a way to shift Big E’s character as well. What better way to completely refresh the group then to have Big E eventually commit to this new direction? Them finding common ground in the fact that whole swaths of WWE’s fanbase want to see them physically fight and be torn apart by their own hands could be the one thing that galvanizes them to come together again The larger implications of a further reaching storyline are there as well: there‘s something very disturbing about an entire audience referred to as a “Universe” being conditioned to “need” three Black dudes to fight.
If this story examines that particular sentiment, it will be more than worth the journey.
This’ll probably all get blown up ASAP, but that’s part of the game. Regardless of that, I’m excited to see how this one pans out.
Adam Griffin’s favorite fictional wrestler is The Scorpion from Saturday Night Slam Masters.