The cars pulled into the parking lot of the Chase Center on the Riverfront in Wilmington, Delaware. Drivers exuberantly honked horns and passengers rolled down windows to wave flags, signs and mylar balloons festooned with the images of Joe Biden and California Senator Kamala Harris.
Earlier in the day, following a long, bitter campaign, conducted in the midst of an international pandemic, the final projections came in, verifying that Biden would become the next president of the United States. To the television networks, Biden’s triumph was a shoot — pro wrestling parlance for something authentic. But as the victor’s supporters jubilantly surged into the streets, the sitting president — real estate developer and World Wrestling Entertainment Hall of Famer Donald J. Trump — holed up in the White House, brooding, refusing to concede. For the next two months — until his account was permanently suspended by the social media giant — Trump would take to Twitter, weaving voter fraud conspiracies.
There were tales about dead people casting ballots, Republican poll watchers being banned from monitoring the count and voting machines somehow reprogrammed to log Trump votes for Biden.
To hear Trump tell it, the election was a work — the wrestling term for a con — the biggest double cross since Stanislaus Zbyszko went against the script and pinned champion Wayne Munn in 1925, allowing the referee no option but to award the title to the Polish strongman.
As I watched the broadcast of the president-elect’s motorcade rolling down I-95 to the celebration, I was monitoring another auspicious event on my laptop. This one emanated from Jacksonville, Florida, and, like the Biden fete, was a long time in the making.
In the sports world, billionaire Shahid Khan’s assets included England’s Fulham Football Club, the NFL’s Jacksonville Jaguars and All Elite Wrestling— the brainchild of his 38-year-old son, Tony, who grew up loving pro wrestling with the same voraciousness as anyone who’d spot this book in a store and immediately walk it over to the cashier’s counter. The Khans also owned the Jaguars’ home stadium, as well as an adjacent amphitheater, Daily’s Place, named after the local chain of convenience stores. It was there on this night, November 7, 2020, that AEW’s pay-per-view Full Gear was being held.
Just as Biden’s victory had great import, the scene in the ring at Daily’s Place would spin off into an assortment of dramas. Kenny Omega and “Hangman” Adam Page had been partners in the Bullet Club, the faction that developed a cult following in the Ring of Honor and New Japan promotions, then its splinter group, the Elite, whose members formed the backbone of the AEW roster upon the company’s founding in 2019. In New Japan, Omega was called “The Cleaner” and the “Best Bout Machine,” the man considered the industry’s premier night-to-night performer. Eight years younger, Page was being groomed to be a future champion — an achievement he’d realize exactly one year later at the same pay-per-view, when he’d topple “The Cleaner” for the AEW crown…