McGuire’s Mondays: The rise and fall of the Death Riders

By Colin McGuire, ProWrestling.net Staffer

“Let me tell you something: Someone has to be responsible. Things got out of control. So, I will be responsible. People think they know what I’m about, what motivates me – they don’t know anything. I have a dream of a land of opportunity – when people come to AEW and they can be anything they want. They can be the best versions of themselves they can be. Wrestling gave me everything I have in the world; I want that for other people.

“One hundred and fifty wrestlers on the roster with a big, fat paycheck and that junk in their hands. What are they supposed to do? Where are they supposed to go? Huh? I hate what AEW has become. Egos out of control. Celebrate when there’s no reason to celebrate. Dancing and partying when there’s no need for dancing and partying. I cannot stand it anymore. I will burn down a forest to plant a new one. I’m not sentimental. I will do what has to be done. We will do what has to be done. We can see a better future and we will make it happen. If you want to come with us, you can come with us. But if you don’t, run while you can. Stand down while you can. Get. Out. Of. The. Way. What is the need to know? What is the new paradigm? It’s very simple: You work for me now.”

That long, dramatic, poetic diatribe was one of the first promos Jon Moxley cut when The Death Riders came to fruition. He said those words as he was riding around in a truck at night. Wheeler Yuta looked particularly cinematic. Even watching it back now, knowing what we know and seeing how everything turned out – it’s still a great promo. The amount of hope attached to it, the amount of emotion it stirred up for those who had been following AEW since day once and were desperate to see something new, something fresh bubble back up to the top. Even the biggest, most loyal AEW fans were excited about this new direction Moxley was promising because even they knew things were starting to get out of hand. Mox’s words felt like a shot of adrenaline right into the heart. And now, a handful of months later, there’s really only one thing left to say:

Man, get the f@$! out of here with that shit.

I’m not the only one who came to that conclusion Sunday night when Tony Khan announced that a 12-man tag team match will go down on the next Collision. That match will feature The Outrunners, FTR, Cope, and Powerhouse Hobbs going up against a team consisting of Chris Jericho’s Learning Tree – Jericho, Big Bill and Bryan Keith – and, you guessed it, Moxley and his Death Riders, Yuta and Claudio Castagnoli. After all that promise, all the hope that those early Death Riders promos generated, that badass group is going to team with the bane of AEW’s current existence, The Learning Tree, even though …

… Things were going to change, and …

… A better future for AEW was on the horizon, and …

… Moxley was going to do what had to be done to achieve said better future, and …

… There are 150 wrestlers on the roster who deserve a platform to be the best they can be, and …

… Everyone works for Moxley now, and … and … and …

That’s enough. I don’t know how this thing got turned around so quickly, but here we are. Once upon a time, the Death Riders story had the biggest head start of any story the company has ever told. Moxley, one of the most beloved figures in the history of AEW, kicked it off by turning on another one of the most beloved figures in the history of AEW, Bryan Danielson. Mox then retired Danielson and tried to kill him. He also won the world title in the process. Those first few promos? They were perfect. They were ominous. They were fresh. They felt like they had a little bit of truth in them. The future looked so bright.

But then it stalled. Turns out, there are only so many times you can try to suffocate a person with a plastic bag on national television before people start to wonder what’s next. Moxley had a great mission statement and very poor follow-through. What was changing again? Why were only low-to-mid-card wrestlers caught up in this? Why weren’t the big guns defending AEW? Why didn’t Moxley take aim at the big guns to begin with? Orange Cassidy is a formidable first target for the type of group Moxley promised the Death Riders would be – Cassidy, in a lot of ways, has been a good figurehead for AEW since its inception – but what about after Cassidy? Jay White? Eh. He just got here and he hasn’t been positioned strong enough to be in that role. Hangman Page? But what about Swerve? Now Adam Don’t Call Me Copeland Cope? What happened to the 150 other guys you were going to help lift up who weren’t wrestling on Smackdown three years ago?

Each week, the story developed new cracks and the breaking point came with TK’s announcement on Sunday night. The Death Riders now are just a group of heels. That’s it. It looked like they were going to set themselves apart, but in hindsight, it now feels like Moxley knew this was the only way he could become a true heel again. Every time he’s tried to do that in AEW, fans found ways to cheer for him and perhaps that wasn’t sitting well with him. How could he change that? Grumble about how the company lost its way, denounce what it has become, throw everyone under the bus … oh, and commit attempted murder on one of the fans’ most adulated heroes.

So, in terms of Moxley becoming a true heel, if that was the purpose, it worked. But there’s one more factor that I can’t think anyone anticipated when this thing kicked off. Sure, people boo Moxley now, but it’s as much for how tired they are of this dumbass story than they are angry at his television character.

And it’s so hard to figure out what happened, where the wheels fell off. At this point, AEW has become notorious for figuring out how to catch your attention with twists, turns, and exciting launches of stories … only to drop the ball on how to successfully land the plane once they figured out how to cruise at a high altitude. Kenny Omega’s belt collector era was kind of fun, but beyond Impact Wrestling getting to use the Best Bout Machine a few times, what stuck out as memorable? Hey, remember when TK took a piledriver and the Young Bucks were going to run roughshod over everything? Didn’t the Inner Circle eventually grow to include something like 83 members? Whatever happened to Stokely Hathaway and Kris Standlander anyway? And then didn’t CM Punk … oh, never mind.

The examples are there. This one hurts the most. Because not only did its origin come along at the precise time AEW needed something interesting to come along, but the downfall and dissolution in trust for the story developed at record speed. The Death Riders are not intimidating anymore. They aren’t dominating. They aren’t scary. And worst of all, they aren’t compelling. There isn’t a single reasonable storyline reason Moxley and his crew should be teaming with anybody in AEW – let alone Jericho and the Learning Tree – if his mission statement was based in any type of truth. AEW’s fan base prides itself on being smarter than the average Hulkamaniac; why insult that fan base like this?

It leads me back to one of the more poignant passages in Moxley’s missive when he kicked this thing off: “I will burn down a forest to plant a new one.” Those are strong words. Noble, even. But how do you expect anything to grow when you keep forgetting to take care of the seeds you planted? Because the more you continue to neglect those, the more likely it is you’ll end up with a field of trees that never broke through the ground.