Undeniably steady, straight forward, and gritty stuff. The sort of thing that beyond being a feather in the cap of a all-time great year, this is just what great wrestling looks like boiled down.

That isn’t to take anything away from Roddy and Tim either. Wrestling writers and critics often harp on—myself included, I’m certainly no better than the best—the element of correctness, often of the narrative, visual, or booking variety, and in some special cases spiritual or primal ones. Many of those are the baselines or foundations of criticism in reviews like this one, but they are just that, baselines. No match needs to check all of those boxes, just one, but most do need to go beyond them as well. But at that foundational level, for my two cents, without getting one of those things right, I can’t fathom wanting to talk up something as great.

Rarely then does one find a match like this, that is all foundation, all building blocks, and pure fundamentals.

With that, know I was hesitant to commit to that statement in the first place. Make no mistakes, this isn’t some classical heel/babyface brawl you’d go and see for a couple of bucks in the 50’s. If that’s what the roots and fundamentals of wrestling look like to you, fine, I would tend to agree anyhow. But with how with the scope and scale of the business has changed, I also don’t think it’s fair to keep that base in a time period that’s pushing the century mark. So understand when I tell you this 2015 matchup is stripped back, I’m not being a total puritan in that standpoint.

That, and the undeniable fact that this is still very describable as a main event epic. Not necessarily with the surface-level connotation—think your over sensitised main event in Bushiroad companies—but, it does runs 25 minutes, features common modern tropes like the forearm exchange, superplex, short brawl on the outside, and limb work that doesn’t feature in the finish. The problem with these tropes usually happens to be that they lazily fill time and distract from those aforementioned building blocks. Here, though Roddy and Tim step into these tropes and moments when it feels natural. Everything moves from point A to B, but never undermines any of the steps along the way. In fact, most of this plays out with these two locked together, not necessarily in a grappling contest, but attached at the hip in a sense where it feels like if either man gives the other space it would (and will) be their downfall. As a centric idea, it makes this whole thing delightful.

Visually too, this is on another level. I’m not going to be the one to stand up and shoot for EVOLVE for much of anything, but the dim lighting, black canvas, and non-air conditioned venue give this the griminess that something so knitted together needs. Detail wise too, Thatcher and Strong swim. The selling Roddy puts into his hand feels intently liberal, lending the credibility and thread needed, but keeping him firmly in the antagonistic roll. That and it sort of fits for the character of Strong and the run of quality he’s on. Across from him, Thatcher puts in a performance that breathes the necessity of being tapped into the wrestling landscape. He’s dangerous in the sense of being methodical, much like you’d typically see from Californian, but his actions and approach still equally present him as a threat, and as a bit of a underdog against someone riding so high. Part of that is because of the year’s early upset victory over Strong too, but I love that there’s so much inside of just this performance itself.

Image via Evolve Wrestling

Lastly, the finish. What one might consider it a little dull or flat when compared to the growing obsession of grand climaxes in wrestling, but I think it’s as essential as anything else. Throughout the whole match, it’s Strong who falls behind when he gets arrogant. It’s why the match gets to the third and final fall, and why it feels like any man can win. Tim hits a uppercut, but launches the exhausted Roddy into the ropes with the momentum he needs for a Sick Kick. One Gibson Driver later, and Thatcher is pinned after making what appears to be the first gift he gives Strong the whole match. Not a flaw in gameplan, though not anyone to blame but himself. Roderick Strong, the best wrestler in the world at the time, who had a shallow gameplan, made mistakes, wins because right now, he’s just better.

It’s not a story any promotion should dare tell now. Pitting two men at their peaks and getting something so clean and decisive as this without destroying either’s momentum is nothing short of a miracle. And in the wonderfully inconsistent world that was EVOLVE wrestling, it might just be their greatest phenomenon ever.

Rating: ****1/4