McGuire’s Mondays: Long or short-term, AEW’s stories need to be better

“I do know that there was a day when Tony Khan started telling people, ‘There’s no such thing as long-term booking anymore; it’s week to week.'”

Those were the words of Bryan Alvarez of F4WOnline.com last week. In an age where the issue of the difference between long-term and short-term storytelling is yet another tool in the toolbox of wrestling fans’ omnipresent desire to out-smart, out-argue, out-everything each other, that comment was more than an aside. If nothing else, it reignited a flame that at the time had simmered to saute-level heat.

Now, I, like you, did not hear those words come from Tony Khan’s mouth. Even Alvarez, in his telling of the story, implied that even he wasn’t the one who heard those words come from Tony Khan’s mouth. On top of that, if Khan did say those words, we have no clue what the context surrounding those words may have been. Was it a joke? Was it flippant? How serious was he? Was this a tiny part of a larger dialogue?

So, for the sake of today, I’m going to put the spirit of Khan’s alleged admission to the side. Instead, let’s look at the macro elements of this thing. Because while I thought (and still think) that saying something like that out loud is kind of absurd and borderline Vince McMahon-ish, it did bring to mind AEW’s vaunted relationship with the mere idiom of storytelling as a vice within professional wrestling.

It got me thinking: I don’t care if you want to excel at long-term storytelling or short-term storytelling; instead, just excel at storytelling.

And that’s been my issue with AEW in recent years. They get off to a great start on something – a hot angle, an intriguing development, a turn that most of us don’t see coming – and then, before long, a plot hole pops up here, a wrestler is suspended (or fired) there, or, in some cases, the story itself seems to fizzle away without much fanfare.

Case in point: The Young Bucks attacking Tony Khan. In hindsight, we can now conclude that the most prominent goal in that angle was to get a neck brace on TK heading into the NFL Draft so the sports world could learn more about AEW whenever he made one of the many media appearances he made during that time. Smart (albeit cheap) marketing. But a major development with larger ramifications in the AEW Universe? Not really. Christopher Daniels was appointed as … something? An authority figure? Adam Pearce with more facial hair? To this day, I’m still not quite sure when, where or why he has authority. Meanwhile, the Young Bucks almost immediately took the edge off the angle by resorting back to their comedic leanings, complete with making Kazuchika Okada little more than a really good wrestler who says “bitch” a lot.

And then there’s case in point No. 2, which is even more disappointing: What’s going on with Jon Moxley and his merry band of ass-kickers? That first promo he cut after trying to suffocate Bryan Danielson to death was great. The whole “this isn’t your company anymore,” and “things are about to change in a major way around here” tone felt fresh and interesting. A few weeks later … eh? I continue to reserve judgment and I’m still curious to see how it plays out, but I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t feel like it’s lost some steam in the interim. Right now, we have Mean Moxley with Mean Claudio and Mean Pac and a rejuvenated Marina Shafir (which is the brightest spot in all this). Will it ultimately lead to a worthy payoff? I hope so.

But I have less and less faith that it will. And that’s where the Venn diagram of what Khan supposedly said about long-term storytelling and what I’m saying right now comes together: AEW might operate on a week-by-week basis – and perhaps having the spoils of a loaded roster with all that talent affords you the ability to appeal to a certain subset of wrestling fan who only cares about the latest “Dream Match” about which someone fantasized on a Reddit thread once – but even if you must go that route, does that mean you actually put little to no value in storytelling, long or short-form, in the first place?

Or, more succinctly, if AEW is going full-on week-to-week, does that admission alone suggest that storytelling is obsolete in the context of their philosophy when it comes to putting together pro wrestling cards?

I think so. And I think so not just because Khan said what he said, but also because of what I see on TV each week. By and large, this is how a lot – not all, but a lot – of how AEW television feels: In two weeks, we want Will Ospreay to face Hologram, because, duh, that would be fun. So, tonight, Ospreay is going to be interviewed backstage and Hologram is going to walk into the frame. Next week, Ospreay is going to cut an in-ring promo and Hologram will make his entrance, walk into the ring, engage in a stare down with Ospreay and leave the ring. Fifteen minutes after that, Tony Schiavone will say on commentary that Tony Khan just informed him that Will Ospreay vs. Hologram will happen next week. Rinse. Repeat.

That just doesn’t do it for me. I guess you can tell me I don’t like good wrestling or I just don’t get it or I could never have the immaculate taste that a sicko maintains, but I don’t know what else to tell you. That’s boring. It’s boring when it stands on its own, but it’s even more boring if that’s the formula on which the company leans for a lot of its booking decisions. Once, twice, three times in a month can be forgiven. When it feels like every other match is made by using some form of that equation … it turns this viewer away.

And, it appears I’m not the only one. The company’s Grand Slam show is coming up this week and the ticket sales have been sad to monitor, considering how well that event has done in the past. Where things really go sideways for me is the notion that even when we can point to these examples as reasons to believe some things could stand to change in the world of All Elite Wrestling, we’re constantly told by the company’s owner and his employees that everything is great and they’ve never been better.

Yes, that upcoming television deal is great for them. And great wrestlers are still great wrestlers. And Bryan Danielson ostensibly competing in win-or-go-home matches from here on out will be a lot of fun. And Swerve vs. Hangman is a compelling story (but one that I continue to wonder how it can expand beyond that cage match at All Out, to be fair). And competition is good. And blah, blah, yada yada, you get it, I get it, we all get it. Forever and ever, amen.

But at the core of all successful wrestling – matches, companies, whatever – is successful storytelling. Long. Short. It doesn’t matter. A story that doesn’t feel like it was thrown together 30 minutes before the red light on the camera turned on. WWE found itself in a major rut when tales of Vince McMahon ripping up scripts five minutes before showtime started trickling out; if AEW wants to match that throwaway energy for consistent, thoughtful storytelling, it’d be a shame if only because AEW’s calling card has been being an alternative to the nonsense that WWE got too used to producing too often.

Thankfully for all wrestling fans, McMahon is out and WWE changed. Will AEW be open to reconsidering its storytelling approach as it embarks on its next chapter, brand new television deal in hand? Here’s hoping.

Until then, I suppose I’ll settle for Hologram vs. Ospreay, coming to a Collision near you.