american dragon vs. william regal (memphis championship wrestling, 05/05/2001)
on the collaborative chemistry of william regal and bryan danielson
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There’s a beautiful rhyming symmetry to the intersection of Bryan Danielson and William Regal’s respective careers — around once every ten years, the two masters of the mat seem destined to cross paths, whether against each other in the ring, or alongside each other. Regal’s release from WWE, his services no longer required after the day-glo rebrand of NXT 2.0, and subsequent departure to AEW has been one of the best things about Tony Khan’s company in a 2022 that’s been rather mixed, in my opinion. Tagging with Moxley and Wheeler Yuta under the guidance of his Lordship is not necessarily the turn that I think anyone expected for Danielson, after a hot singles streak last fall that’s now basically been usurped and imitated by Adam Cole’s less interesting undefeated run. But it’s allowed Danielson to show a bloodier, more abrasive, and less scientific side of himself — essentially, a Dragon variant that would not be allowed to exist in the current PG regime of WWE.
Regal was, as many may remember, one of the-then Daniel Bryan’s closest mentors about 10 years ago during the early years of NXT, and in fact the person who suggested Danielson switch his names in WWE. According to my cursory Cagematch research, Danielson and Regal only met a few times on WWE TV, but they worked extensively together on the European house show circuit, with Bryan going over Regal every time, except for their last meeting, Bryan paying respects to his master. But ten years prior, Danielson and Regal met for the first time, at very different points in their respective careers and in front of a significantly different kind of wrestling crowd than the kind of person who I imagine would go see WWE Live in Belgium.
What I particularly love about this match is that, because it’s a Memphis crowd and the heat in the Mid-South Coliseum could fry an egg, both guys have the opportunity to do a little mic work before the match. It’s such a time capsule of the era, with Taco Bell sponsorship banners, and a drunk dad in the front row doing absolutely nasty DX crotch chops. Regal did some on-and-off stints in Memphis Championship Wrestling, at the time a feeder developmental territory for the Federation, who sent him there to dust off the ring rust and get his groove back after his struggles with addiction particularly intensified in the late 1990s, and he went back and forth between the two major companies and rehab. Though Regal was always a fairly comic worker, and in his memoir even speaks at great length about his love of British comedy and everything in his gimmick and performances that he cribbed from stand-ups, the reinvented Federation Regal, now dubbed William, would become much more of a punchline throughout the 2000s, forced to literally kiss Vince’s ass and paired with horrible characters like Eugene. But like a faithful journeyman actor, he played even the most humiliating role to an impassioned, Oscar-worthy degree.
Despite his mat-based, more technical style, Regal is a true carnie through and through, who literally cut his teeth on the vaudeville beach circuit in Blackpool, and a journeyman willing to take whatever job comes his way. Everything about Regal, like any tried-and-true worker, is about necessity; unlike a Dean Malenko, or even Danielson, his scientific prowess is less his defining attribute and more one element of a varied skill set that includes a vicious brawling streak—this is, after all, the same lad who started off as a plant in the crowd who would answer open challenges in order to put the actual wrestler over. He’s also not only internationally traveled, working in some of the most difficult environments that a wrestler could, but from the era where motherfuckers really got stretched, when the mark was basically beaten out of you by good ole boys suspicious to let outsiders break into the business. So despite the foppish dandy presentation and the mastery of flexible holds, Regal has always carried himself as a guy who will play dirty when he needs to, the energy that he has now distilled and apotheosized into the ultra-violent Blackpool Combat Club.
Regal’s Memphis run is pretty fascinating as well because he was facing a lot of down-and-dirty more hardcore style indie opponents like Reckless Youth and Bull Pain, which I think really goes to show his versatility. The Bull Pain match in particular is I think a really great example in how two workers who have very opposite styles can build a story together, as the match starts off with Bull Pain just getting dirty and beating the shit out of Regal, who eventually takes the upper hand by working Bull’s legs and trapping him in some classic locks, because he realizes that Bull Pain is all in the arms and the weight, and not quite as adept or flexible enough to pull off the holds that Regal can.
In 2001, Regal was back on the WWF main roster and acting in a commissioner role, but came down south to set things straight and show who’s boss, like Bobby Flay on that show where he goes around the country and proves how much better he is than small-town chefs that aren’t brand names. Danielson is already exceptionally confident on the mic, a believable underdog who is still just a little too cocky and big for his britches. At this point, he’d trained with Shawn Michaels in TWA and done a stint with FMW in Japan, and was briefly signed to WWF, hence his reign as MCW’s Light Heavyweight Champ.
2001 was a defining year not just for American indie wrestling generally, but for Danielson specifically—this match with Regal comes a few months after American Dragon’s loss to rival Low Ki in the finals of the ECWA Super 8 Cups, and just a few months before his release from WWF, his victory in the 2001 APW King of the Indies final over Low Ki, and his departure for New Japan. The APW 2001 King of the Indies Tournament is a classic tape of its era, and was also a formative milestone in the careers of workers who would basically all define the next two decades of indie wrestling: AJ Styles, Samoa Joe, Super Dragon, Christopher Daniels, Frankie Kazarian, Doug Williams, and Adam Pearce among others.
The dynamic between the two in the ring is very much the confident old master versus the cocky young apprentice; Regal is the one who applies the holds, and Danielson is the one who has to fight his way out and break them. Regal’s heat with the crowd is tremendous, which is just even more emphasized by how slow and methodically he works, where the pressure he applies seems almost effortless. Of course, trapping Dragon in a physical escape room just works to put him over, as he has to contort and demonstrate the full physical capabilities of his form in order to bust out. Whereas Regal is working a style that feels much older, more about stretching and turning the limbs into a simple machine, Dragon has much more of that gymnastic cruiserweight style, with shades of UWF Super Tiger—it’s still more on the ground and to the mat, save for the finishing missile dropkick, but it’s still extremely flexible and acrobatic.
Their careers would become even more intertwined over the years, and Danielson would grow to pull off the kind of overconfident heel roles that Regal did so well, like his reign with the “cruelty-free” WWE title belt. They are in many ways extremely opposed, one an intensely English Northern Soul fan who had a 24 Hour Party People Life and tweets about “disco biscuits,” the other a Pacific Northwest vegan who has brought an almost monk-like single-mindedness to professional wrestling. But their chemistry over the years in various capacities, whether in the ring and against each other on the mic or shoulder-to-shoulder in the same stable, just goes to show that wrestling is always relational. Though great wrestlers can make shitty wrestlers look like stars, there’s only so far that can go, and chemistry is essential both to training and storytelling. At the end of the day, the greatest wrestlers aren’t necessarily superior individuals in their own right, but the ones who can communicate the best and build dynamic working relationships. In pro wrestling, as in life, there’s no such thing as being a great worker all by your lonesome; it’s all about being a great co-worker.