As 2023 draws to an end, people like me decide to spend far too long coming up with a match-of-the-year list. Honestly, even I think this one is somewhat excessive, as I have nineteen matches to cover in what I’m describing as the best of the rest. However, I didn’t want to let any of my favourites go, as I’d be happy to have any one of these as my number one. As usual, these are the matches I loved, so while you can feel free to throw some suggestions my way (in fact, please do), don’t waste any time telling me I’m wrong. I don’t care how good you think Will Ospreay vs Kenny Omega was – I’m never going to watch it. Anyway, on with the list!
Miyu Yamashita vs Yuka Sakazaki, Tokyo Joshi Pro Wrestling ‘23 (4/1/23), TJPW
With Yuka Sakazaki’s graduation from TJPW, we now know this was the final match between her and Miyu Yamashita, at least for the foreseeable future. And honestly. That might be a good thing. TJPW’s first big main event of the year was all about escalation, as the two faces of the company beat the shit out of each other. It wasn’t just the big spots, like Miyu’s scary tumble from the ring or the shoot headbutt. Everything in this match felt nasty in a way that we don’t typically see in Tokyo Joshi. It was there from the opening minutes when Yuka hooked a foot around to boot Miyu square in the face. These two had arguably never quite lived up to their potential as an in-ring pairing (although they’ve got better with every go), so they fell back on beating their way to success.
It meant this match was incredible on a somewhat simple, visceral level, as two heavy hitters laid into each other. In a company where that kind of thing is the norm, it wouldn’t stand out all that much, but in TJPW, it felt like they’d flicked a switch. Yuka and Miyu had hit a point where there weren’t any fancy tricks or clever ploys they could deploy to get the win. Their stories are so intermingled that they’re incapable of surprising each other. Instead, they fell back on the basics – hitting each other until one couldn’t get up any more. It’s not subtle or ingenious, but it’s fucking exciting, and there was a crackling tension to everything that happened here.
That escalation also represented a milestone for the company as a whole. Even if you’re not as enthusiastic a fan of the TJPW nonsense division as I am, the days of being able to question the in-ring legitimacy of the top of a TJPW card are long gone. However, there is still a sense among the wider fanbase that they’re a step down from the Stardoms of the world. That Tokyo Joshi is somehow a lesser product, not just a different one. It’s not a view I would ever subscribe to, but it was still thrilling to watch Yuka and Miyu go out and do the things those supposedly superior companies do just as well as them, if not better. Not because they felt like they had to but because it made sense for them to do so. They had hit the point where the only way to settle things was to sort it out the old-fashioned way, and it was a hell of a way to start the year.
Super Delfin vs Ice Penguin vs Flying Penguin, Dotonbori Pro (5/2/23), Dotonbori Pro
When you put a list like this together, I firmly believe you reserve the right to include a couple of vanity picks. The kind of matches that aren’t going to be hailed by the wider wrestling fandom but which you, for whatever reason, have a soft spot. It’s your chance to introduce people to something they might have missed, even if you secretly suspect most of them will have no interest in it. Flying Penguin vs Ice Penguin vs Super Delfin is one of those gems.
It’s probably not surprising that I would take a shine to this, what with it being a delightful slice of nonsense. In it, enthusiastic rookie Flying Penguin finds herself stuck between grumpy old Ice Penguin and the slightly more helpful Super Delfin. What follows is part wrestling match, part lesson, as they try to talk her through a series of scenarios that go, more often than not, hilariously wrong. It’s silly, lighthearted fluff, which leaves me grinning from ear to ear. Seriously, I’m laughing before the match even starts as Flying Penguin tries to sing her way to the ring, only for Ice Penguin to come barging past, interrupting her song and leading to a good few minutes of her trying to explain to him that she hadn’t quite finished. She is so endearingly earnest, seemingly of the opinion that if she says the right thing, Ice Penguin will suddenly understand and apologise. It’s wonderful.
I can’t claim that there is anything in this match you haven’t seen before. Most of the Flying Penguins spots have been done by a million misfiring tag teams, and it doesn’t have that streak of wild inventiveness that often inhabits the best nonsense. However, it has three people nailing their performances in a way that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Whether you value that as highly as another thirty-minute epic is entirely up to you, but in my mind, it’s just as important.
121000000 might have won the Max Heart tournament, but the spiritual victory belonged to Kyoraku Kyomei. Shoko and Misao are often tasked with providing the nonsense on big TJPW shows, be it with their traditional Ittenyon showdown or by wrestling a giant panda and a wee cat, but there was none of that here. They came into the tournament final intent on victory, and while there was a touch of spray can shenanigans at the beginning, they delivered one of the more focused and aggressive performances of their career as a team.
That focus led to the rare Misao limb match as she attacked Miyu’s leg and Itoh’s arm, setting the narrative thrust of the action. It was a risky strategy, especially against one wrestler who is very reliant on their legs and another who, for all her many talents, isn’t exactly someone who will put the effort in to sell an injury when she hits her flow. However, it worked. Not because Itoh or Miyu did a particularly incredible job (Yamashita’s leg-selling is decent, but she forgets about it towards the end), but because of how nasty Misao and Shoko’s attacks are. They never let up, as Misao even shrugged off the loss of her mask, continuing to wrestle without it until there was an opening where she could get it back on. It didn’t appear to have been intentional, but it was a lucky break that worked with the story they were telling. She had bigger things on her mind than something as immaterial as hiding her face.
Shoko and Misao are so good that I’d argue that its biggest flaw is the 121000000 comeback, even if the fans in attendance didn’t agree. It’s not that Itoh and Miyu aren’t good (although this team is far from my favourite thing about either one’s career), but there was a sickening sense of inevitability when they started to fire up, an issue that I never have with Miyu’s singles matches (where, at least for me, her dominance feels earned). Kyoraku Kyomei’s showing was the beating heart of this match, as they put on arguably their best performance as a team, so it was a bit of a sickener to see it all come crashing down. However, even with that, this is too good for it not to make the list. I never want the nonsense to end, but with MagiRabbi gone and the tag scene blown wide open, it might be time to let Misao and Shoko show the world what they can do.
Kaoru Ito vs Mio Momono, Marvelous (12/2/23), Marvelous
On paper, Kaoru Ito is perhaps the odd one out of the non-Marvelous opponents Mio faced in her trial series. Arisa Nakajima, Chihiro Hashimoto and Veny would rightly be named some of the best wrestlers around, while Ito’s glory days are far behind her. That’s not to suggest she doesn’t still have something to offer, but if you were guessing which pairing would be most likely to make my end-of-year list, you probably wouldn’t plump for this one. However, while you should go out and watch those others (they all made the shortlist), it was Ito’s turn to humble Mio that stuck with me the most.
And that’s because while Ito’s knees might be closer to dust than anything that functions as a working joint, she still has that brain. Put her against a young wrestler with a point to prove, and she knows what to do. Sit on them. Okay, I’m twisting it slightly, but it was close enough. A big chunk of this was Ito forcing Mio to the mat and putting her in simple holds that became devastating because of the size difference between them. Then, when they were locked in, she challenged Mio to escape, inviting her to do whatever she could to make it to the ropes or wiggle free. By booking her against Ito, Chigusa Nagayo placed a wall in front of Mio, a wall that promptly fell on top of her and asked her to dig her way free.
None of that would work if it weren’t for Mio’s selling of the situation. Every single second she is in those holds, you can feel the mix of pain, frustration and desperation that she is going through. Then, when she finally does escape, she can’t afford to take a moment to recover, as she has to throw herself at Ito to try and turn the tide. At that moment, Kaoru was as generous as she could be, taking bumps that I imagine had her hurting for days, but it still wasn’t enough. She was too big a challenge for Mio to chip away at, and this was only ever ending one way.
As I mentioned, those other trial matches are also great, with each one playing with the idea of Mio being tested. However, it’s easy for Momono to be brilliant with Big Hash, Arisa or Veny. Many lesser wrestlers than her have done that, and I feel the limitations the story Mio was telling put on those matches more. This match against Ito is the real test of Momono’s powers, and while I don’t think you can put all the credit on her (Kaoru is brilliant here), she passed that test with flying colours and kicked off a run that proved, once again, that she is one of the very best around.
Natsumi Sumikawa vs Miku Aono, ACTWrestling in Yokohama (23/2/23), AWG
The first semi-final of Nu-AWG’s tournament to crown a champion was eleven minutes and thirty-three seconds of some of the tightest, best-constructed wrestling of the year. They have had grander and more epic affairs this year, but when it comes to the one I want to watch again and again, it’s the semi-final that didn’t even main event the card it was on.
And I think what makes this feel so rewatchable is that every bit of it makes sense. Sumikawa initially tries to trade blows with Aono but quickly realises it’s a mistake against a bigger and stronger opponent. So, instead, she goes to her speed, trying to dart around the ring and twist her way into submissions. However, those Aono kicks have taken their toll, and even when Natsumi manages to open her up to hit a big move (a powerbomb out of the corner), she is too banged up to take advantage of it, her legs having taken too much of a beating. I don’t often feel the need to demand my wrestling is logical – its ability to be illogical is often something I enjoy – but when it’s done this well, it brings the action to life. It felt like two people adapting to each other as they go, tweaking their strategies until one managed to find the answer that brought things to an end.
It’s also the match where you can see Aono start to settle into her approaching Acehood. Sumikawa might never be stronger, but she does test her, lashing out at those legs and hitting as hard as she can. However, Miku can eat that stuff up, sitting back and testing the water, waiting for the moment when she can turn the tide and hit the killer blow. If you’re going to represent a company, you need to be able to adapt to any situation, and that’s what we see from her here. I won’t go as far as calling this the birth of the true Ace (I think that came later), but it was perhaps the moment that made that possible. Considering the year she would go on to have, that alone makes this match worthy of comment.
In a hardcore match full of veterans, established deathmatch figures and prodigal talents, the wrestler who seemed massively out of their depth stole the show. Before her injury, Rina Amikura spent this year residing under the wing of the WAVE veterans, with Yuki Miyazaki, in particular, taking an interest in the COLORS’ wrestler. Whether she saw something of herself in Amiin or simply liked the cut of her jib, I don’t know, but it culminated with this, a match where Amikura gave what has to go down as the best individual performance of her career and possibly the best of the year as a whole.
And what I loved about that performance was that it wasn’t the typical story. We’ve seen a million different wrestlers move to a new style and slowly blossom, building to the big showdown where they match their masters. Amiin didn’t do that. Instead, she leaned into the fact that she was out of place in this company. Within minutes of the match starting, Veny and Risa Sera were taking a vicious delight in torturing her, and it wasn’t long until she was stumbling about the place, blood filling her eyes as tears leaked out the other way. What made this special was that it embraced weakness in a way that I haven’t seen since Lulu Pencil. Amikura was terrified and upset, but she kept going, and that was a million times more inspiring than simply getting good.
It made the pay-off, where she leapt from up high to go crashing through a table below, following it with a cathartic scream of joy and pain, all the more special. She’d gone to war, and while it was a war she would end up losing, Rina went down fighting, no matter how upset she got in the process. Everyone else in this match was good, and Miyazaki and Sera took some hellish bumps on that damn stool towards the end, but they were all up-classed by the all-singing, all-dancing idol wrestler in their midst. She tapped into her weaknesses and used them to create magic, and it’s a performance I’ll be thinking about for a long time.
Miu Watanabe vs Rika Tatsumi, Grand Princess ’23 (18/3/23), TJPW
Coming into 2023, you could have forgiven Miu Watanabe for the false belief that the world is a fair place. Having worked hard and paid her dues, she was rewarded for her efforts with a strong run with the International Princess Title, establishing herself as one of the young wrestlers to watch. It was a lovely time to be Miu. However, there was a bump in the road ahead, as she was about to discover that evil does, in fact, exist, and it came in the form of her tag-team partner and friend, Rika Tatsumi.
Miu is great in this match, as she has been in every big outing for the last couple of years, but Tatsumi is on a different level. Where Watanabe is clean-cut and powerful, Rika is dirty and mean, dragging the fight into the crowd before starting her customary attack on the leg. She’s the one who uses their years of teaming together to her advantage, repeatedly cutting off Miu’s big attacks, including choking her pal to escape from the Giant Swing. Watanabe eventually tries to meet her in the dirt, ramping up the hits and even pulling out a Dragon Sleeper version of said swing, but it’s Rika’s world, and by the time Miu digs deep, the damage has already been done.
In many ways, it’s a classic story, as the veteran shows that while she’s taught her younger friend a lot, she hasn’t taught her it all. It also kickstarted one of the best title reigns of the year as Rika settled into the role of TJPW’s workhorse, putting on bangers whenever she got the tap on the shoulder. However, there is an argument to be made that this is the best of the lot, which is no insult to what came after. Rika and Miu took an old tale and made it feel fresh and exciting, not by changing anything but by doing it better than anyone else. If you can pull that off, you’re probably pretty good at this, and there’s no denying that these two are.
Emi Sakura vs Miyuki Takase, Tokyo Crossover (26/4/23), DPWxGatoh Move
It’s weird to say this about a match I’m proclaiming as one of the best of the year, but I don’t necessarily have much to say about this one. In truth, it sells itself. What more do you need to know than the words on the marquee? Emi Sakura vs Miyuki Takase in a main event with a title on the line. That’s always going to be special.
I will go on a bit longer, just in case you’re new here and don’t know much about these two. This match thrives off Emi’s willingness to be a total prick. She lays into every chop, Takase’s chest quickly lighting up as Sakura punishes her. Perhaps even more impressive, though, is her response to Miyuki’s fiery babyface comebacks. Emi is more than happy to give it out, revelling in bullying her opponent, but when the tables turn, she cowers away, scared of what she knows is coming. It’s one thing to be a bit mean (any heel can do that), but it’s another to embrace cowardness, showing yourself up and highlighting the heroic nature of the person you’re wrestling.
And if you’re looking for someone to highlight being heroic, it might as well be Miyuki Takase. She’s every bit as good a babyface as Sakura is a heel, as she’s pure fire and almost pigheaded bravery. It doesn’t matter how many times Sakura chops her. Takase will keep coming because that’s all she knows how to do. A great heel and a great babyface laying into each other in front of a crowd who were lapping up is Wrestling 101. It ain’t complex, but that doesn’t stop it being wonderful.
Mio Momono vs Chikayo Nagashima, Marvelous 7th Anniversary (3/5/23), Marvelous
It’s impossible to divorce my emotional investment from this match, and, to be perfectly honest, I have no real wish to do so. Mio Momono battling back from an injury that could have ended her career to win the big one meant the world to me, and that she did it with a performance that showed off everything great about her (and Nagashima) made it all the better. Not only was this a cathartic emotional release, but it was a perfectly constructed one. Mio and Chikayo played us all wonderfully as they built the foundations for that beautiful finale.
And as easy as it is to focus on Mio, Nagashima was just as vital. Early on, she’s a step ahead of Momono, as the challenger finds herself wrestling the occasion rather than the match, going big at every opportunity. In response, Chikayo calmly steps back and waits for her moments, sidestepping a flying Mio to regain control. It’s not until they head to the outside, and one of Momono’s big moves finally pays off (the leap from a Korakuen entrance) that things begin to level off. Even then, Nagashima never stops dishing out damage, cutting away at Mio as she uses those years of experience (something I’ve noticed is a recurring theme on this list) to keep the rather frantic challenger at arm’s length.
However, the deeper this goes, the more it becomes apparent that Mio won’t lose. She can’t lose. Nagashima hits her again and again, but Momono keeps coming, refusing to back down. Mio has got to this point before and fallen short (and will do so again), but on this day, you would have to hit her with a bulldozer to get her to stay down. She’s all fire, and while Nagashima gets some incredible close falls, some of which still get my heart beating that bit faster, Momono pushes through from pure force of will. That title was her destiny, and as Chigusa Nagayo lost her shit on commentary, she realised it for the first time. It doesn’t get better than that.
I guess it’s worth starting by pointing out that I’m assuming everyone knows the story of this match. If you don’t, you can go and read Dramatic DDT’s excellent summary, as repeating it all would take far too long.
You can’t talk about this beautiful nonsense like most other matches. It’s too big-brained with too many levels to dig into. However, I think the place to start is with someone who wasn’t technically in it. Hyper Misao is a genius. There are a lot of brilliant weirdos out there, but I don’t think any of them would have dared to put something like this together to headline their first produce show. My mind instantly leaps to Miyako Matsumoto, who is equally unhinged and brilliant, but she and Misao think in very different ways, and this would look very different in her hands. No, Misao is the only one who could have pulled this off. She put as much work into putting together costumes and skits involving Namba and pals during the various timeline-hopping antics as she did the stuff in the ring. TJPW have always given her plenty of freedom, but aside from her fake retirement, she’s never had this much time and space to project her mind onto the canvas.
For all of Misao’s genius, however, she also required a lot of other people to chip in and play this right. Arisu and Rika were brilliant here. Whether they were channelling Gokuaku Doumei or the fear of shitting themselves, they delivered in every timeline without ever stealing too much of the spotlight from its intended recipient. Then there were the fans, who went with every second of this with an enthusiasm they could surely only have dreamed of while they were putting it together. Not only did they cheer and boo when required, but they bought into this world, never questioning it for a second. If this had been America or the UK, that room would have filled with snarky chants, cutting through the atmosphere and blunting the final payoff.
And what a payoff it was. What makes this truly special is that Misao used all that time and effort not to highlight herself but to hand the spotlight to Mahiro Kiryu. The somewhat bumbling midcarder whose gimmick is that she’s awkward and apologises a lot. And when handed that stage, Mahiro shone. Whether she was selling confusion, dancing with the Up Up Girls or being the Romeo to Yuki Aino’s Juliet, for perhaps the first time, we saw everything she could do, and she was extraordinary. Not only that, but she had the bravery to sit in that ring and tell her story, a story that is very similar to the one that Hyper Misao once told and fills me with joy that she found her way to that moment. She deserved it so fucking much, and when the fans chanted her name in the final slice of the action, willing her to do her best, all I wanted was to be there chanting along with them.
There are a million other things I could talk about, be it Arisu Endo’s thumb or that Misao, unlike wrestling Twitter, understands that you don’t need to pin someone to tell a beautiful story. It was a special match, and I suspect that if my Japanese was better and I wasn’t experiencing it through translations and half-understood sentences, it would have been the easiest match of the year pick since Lulu Pencil. As it is, it falls just short of that, but that doesn’t make it any less incredible.
Momoka Hanazono vs Mei Suruga, Mei Suruga 5th Anniversary Show (29/5/23), Gatoh Move
MomoRingo collide!
Originally, Mei Suruga was scheduled to face Stardom’s Miyu Amasaki on her 5th Anniversary, which I’m sure would have been a perfectly serviceable match (and we’ll find out, as it’s now happening in January). However, when Miyu pulled out, Suruga turned to her MomoRingo pal to fill the gap, and I don’t think I’m being too cruel to Amasaki to describe that as an upgrade. I’m sure she’s a talented young wrestler with a bright future, but this was two of the scene’s best menaces getting a main event to play with, and that was something to get excited about.
And what made this match shine was the sense of escalation. The opening act was two pals pissing about. That’s not an insult. Two pals pissing about is one of my favourite genres, especially when they’re pals with a tendency to goblin. There was a bubble wand, Mei beating Momoka with a light stick and a giant party popper that Hanazono deployed to stop Mei mid-flight. It still contained a sprinkling of nastiness – it’s what these two do – but it all took place in the spirit of good fun. At least it did, right up until Momoka decided to pull a play from Mei’s book, a decision that Suruga did not take kindly.
I don’t know if it was the mimicry or that Momoka didn’t do it particularly well, but from that moment on, the nastiness in this match got out of hand. Suruga began to focus her attack on Hanazono’s arm, ripping it apart in a way we rarely see from her. In return, Momoka turned to the meaner parts of her brain, driving her fist into Mei’s face before smashing one of her inexhaustible supply of bubble wands over her head with a satisfying/wince-inducing crack. They were no longer pissing about, they were trying to hurt each other, and it ruled.
It also proved something that I’ve been somewhat unsure about. If you need someone to light up the middle of the card, Suruga and Hanazono are your wrestlers. However, I’ve always had question marks as to how that translates when things get serious. I haven’t always loved Mei’s attempts to do so in the past, and Best Bros is my least favourite of her numerous endeavours, while Momoka has only ever done it on a smaller stage. However, this was proof that they can take what they do, retain its core, but twist it just enough to fit that position. If they had this same match for a title, I would buy every second of it, and that gives me hope that these two ridiculously talented wrestlers will get the chance to do it on the biggest stage possible. For now, this was more than enough.
There are almost two matches to discuss here, and I’m a lot more interested in one than the other. That’s not to say the first of them isn’t good. It’s a great tag match between two hard hitters and a trio of speedy menaces. Give me Aono and Kira An trying to boot their way through Teppen, and I will have a nice time. It’s just that on this particular occasion, there was also an Asako Mia wandering through the middle of it all, which quickly became all I cared about.
While Asako debuted last year, 2023 has seen her find her nonsense feet in the AWG undercard. Whether she’s channelling Kairi Sane, The Great Asako or forming the Asako Army without taking into account whether the rest of the group has any wish to be involved, Mia has quickly become my favourite part of Nu-AWG. She seemingly exists on a different plane from the rest of the roster as she capers through matches, doing her own thing with little to no interest in what’s happening around her. There’s a moment here where she clambers up the turnbuckle, striking a pose as Aono covers someone, seemingly of the opinion that she had something to do with it all (she didn’t).
We’re at the point where I’m not entirely sure I need Asako to wrestle. I’m also still not sure if her in-ring work is inept or if it’s part of the gag, but it doesn’t matter. Watching her navigate her way through life is enough to keep me entertained, and on my rewatch, I rewound the moment Misa rips off the lucha mask she’s wearing (which was the mask she wore under the one she wore to make her entrance) about ten times to hear the little yelp of fear she emits before running away. Asako doesn’t need to wrestle because she’s so good at everything else that she can simply exist amongst the more naturally gifted members of the roster, doing her own thing and somehow still stealing the show.
Mio Momono vs Mayumi Ozaki, Marvelous (7/8/23), Marvelous
If defeating Chikayo Nagashima was Mio’s high point, then losing her first title defence to Mayami Ozaki was her rock bottom. This match was as heartbreaking as Momono’s victory was life-affirming, which is a big part of why I loved it. Who would have thought the company run by Chigusa Nagayo, who once had her head shaved after being beaten by Dump Matsumoto, might not be of the opinion that your hero needs to win all the time?
Before I get into praising Mio again, though, I want to give all the flowers to Ozaki. She’s fifty-five years old, and no one would blame her if she half-arsed this shit. In fact, if she put in half the effort she does, people would rightly praise her, but she’s cool enough to put in even less than that and still get away with it. However, you rarely, if ever, see her take it easy, and she was the perfect villain to ruin Momono’s year. She beats the shit out of Marvelous’s hero, dragging her around Korakuen, bloodying her up and teaching her lesson after lesson. When Mio throws forearms, she throws backhand slaps, every action making it clear that to her, Mio is just another kid who needs to put in their place.
It’s a challenge that Mio, of course, rises to. The match with Nagashima was incredible, but there was no villain for her to play off, as it was a battle based on mutual respect that ended with a hug. There was no affection here. Momono is fighting to stay afloat, and with the Oz Academy fans in the crowd making themselves heard, she’s not even safe on home turf. Yet still, she refused to die until she had no other choice, stumbling forward and giving everything even as it became clear she was out of her depth. It doesn’t occur to Mio to grab a chair of her own and level the odds. That’s just not in her nature. The only time she does fight fire with fire is as a desperate attempt to escape a pin, clonking Ozaki on the head with a detached seat and setting up the one run of offence that gets her close to saving her belt. For the bulk of the match, however, she tries to play it straight, and she doesn’t have the answers to what Ozaki brings.
It’s not just the main characters who make this match, though. You’ve also got the Marvelous fans slowly finding their voice, drowning out their Oz counterparts and later showering a broken and defeated Mio in streamers, letting her know they still love her. Then there’s Takumi Iroha and Maria growing increasingly worried for their friend at ringside to the point where they try to storm the ring, forcing Tommy to stop them from getting involved. Finally, there’s the aftermath, when Ozaki stamps on the AAAW title, leading to Chigusa Nagayo calmly removing her headset and placing her camera down before stepping through the ropes, forcing seven people to hold her back from dishing out an ass-whooping even as we hear Mio crying and struggling to breathe in the background. It’s one of those special moments where everything comes together perfectly, and I don’t care what twats on Twitter say – it’s one of the best matches of the year.
Momoka Hanazono vs Kengo Mashimo, Gokigen Kawasaki (20/8/23), YMZ
I saw two Momoka Hanazono matches live on the 20th of August, as she battled Yuu at the Oz Academy Korakuen before following it up with a main event against Kengo Mashimo. They were two matches connected by more than just the date, as both saw Hanazono take on bigger and stronger opponents and attempt to antic her way around them. So why does this one make the list and the other doesn’t? Well, Momoka and Kengo had the advantage of time and a small venue, which gave this one the edge over her encounter with Yuu.
It also helps that this feels like peak Momoka, as she spent the early part of the action leading Mashimo in a merry dance that keeps him in a state of bemusement. You get the sense that she’s trying to charm him into defeat, even pulling the ref and the various seconds at ringside into the action, seemingly just because she can. For Mashimo, meanwhile, it takes him a while to realise that he doesn’t have to go along with this, and it’s okay to be the dick who puts an end to it all.
What pushes it towards match of the year level, though, is that when he finally starts pushing his weight around, Momoka meets him there. She stands and trades forearms with him, delivers one of those fantastic straight-arm punches and perhaps the most satisfying bubble wand-to-head connection yet. Sure, there are still a few antics (there is a moment where she plays dead), but she is willing to meet him in the middle, even if she does it all with a smile on her face. She was the goofy underdog to Kengo’s bullying ways, and while it ended in defeat for Momoka, she made sure to leave her mark before that happened.
Jun Kasai vs Masashi Takeda, Tokyo Death Match Carnival Vol. 2 (28/8/23), FREEDOMS/Kasai Produce
A FREEDOMS’ show at Korakuen Hall wasn’t on my Japanese wrestling bucket list, but when one came up with this match at the top of the card, it felt like a no-brainer. It was the right decision, too. Not just because of FREEDOMs (although it was a fun show), but because everyone should experience a Jun Kasai Korakuen main event. That man is a god to those people, and as he made his entrance, it was the loudest I have ever heard the crowd in that famous old building. Korakuen has always had a habit of taking certain wrestlers under their wing, but Kasai might just be their favourite.
And obviously, this was good. It was a Takeda vs Kasai deathmatch – in what world would it not be? Sure, they probably didn’t do much they hadn’t done before, and there was more of a sense of celebration and love than fierce competition (it was their first big main event since Takeda returned following the death of his wife), but that brought its own joys. It felt like two old friends showing their love for each other, even if that love came via carving each other up with various knives and chunks of glass.
It’s also true that deathmatches, perhaps more than any other type of wrestling, benefit from seeing them live. From being able to watch shards of glass shoot into the air and hear the crunch as weapons connect. It’s bloody and gross, but it brings a visceral thrill that it’s almost impossible not to get caught up in. I was up in the gods, as much as such a thing exists in Korakuen, surrounded by young Japanese people and salarymen who had come straight from work, all of whom were united by their bloodlust as these two went at it. It’s never going to be for everyone, but as the blood flowed and Kasai hit a Super Tiger Destroyer through a board of butcher knives, I struggled to think of anywhere I would rather be. Deathmatches don’t always have to be about hate, and I hope these two get a million more opportunities to share their love through the spilling of blood.
Mio Momono & Sumika Yanagawa vs Unagi Sayaka & Tomoko Watanabe, Sapporo (24/9/23), Marvelous
I know I’ve already covered Mio Momono winning and losing titles, and before this list is over, I’ll touch on her deathmatch dungarees, but I think the Mio image that will stick with me in the months to come is from this match. Having started as a nonsense-fest involving a towel, more on that later, Tomoko made the mistake of booting Mio in the shin. Not long after, a furious Momono returned with a wrench, determined to enact her revenge and forcing Tommy to step in and prevent a murder. I claimed that Mio was too pure a wrestler to descend to Ozaki’s level before, but it turns out that if the Oz Legend had kicked her in the shin, she would have fucked her up. That her tantrum after Tommy took it off her involved her stamping her foot with anger only added to the joy of it all.
Before we got there, though, this match was pure nonsense. Via a combination of Sumika Yanagawa’s towel (and everyone’s fascination at her ability to do fancy tricks with it) and Watanabe and Unagi playing up their role as comedy goons, this whole thing was a silly delight. I already spoke about my love of Mio stamping her foot in anger, but equally enjoyable was her and Yanagawa enjoying a nice ride in a wheeled cage, which Tomoko and Unagi attempted to use to make them dizzy by spinning around lots. The fact that Mio and Sumika walked away fine, chattering as they went, while those two fell over gives you an insight into how successful that was.
The thing that ramps it up a notch, though, is that none of that felt like it didn’t work with the way this ended. Mio’s wrench might not have ended up playing a part, but that kick to the shins woke her up, and not long after that, she was throwing headbutts at Unagi. In a lot of wrestlers’ hands, switching from dancing around with a towel to being a violent wee shit would feel forced and unreal, but Mio makes it work. It works because that’s her. She’s both that goofy underdog and someone who will tear your eyes out when she decides it’s time. There’s a reason Chigusa Nagayo calls her Chucky. Everyone else played their roles brilliantly, but once again, Mio was the ace that made it sparkle.
Rika Tatsumi vs Max the Impaler, Wrestle Princess IV (9/10/23), TJPW
Japanese wrestling was built on foreign monsters battling local heroes. It’s the oldest trick in the book, and I think there is a strong argument for Max the Impaler to etch their name in that history as one of the great foreign invaders of the current era. Since the second they stepped into TJPW, they have played the role to perfection, never giving up an inch of their monsterhood while leaning into the house style and forcibly adopting several of the roster. They introduced a nightmare into the bright and happy world of TJPW, and it worked a treat. What Max didn’t realise was that there was already a monster there. She’d just been hiding her ways behind a smiling face.
For while this match looked like a version of an old classic, it turned up with a streak of invention a mile wide running through it. Rika is no plucky local hero ready to try her best. No, she’s a fiend in her own right, and with her previous attempts to befriend Max having failed, she decided it was time to unleash her hell on The Impaler. She started with choking, followed it up with an army of seconds being tossed in Max’s direction and finally fell back on her favourite tactic, taking that leg apart with Dragon Screws and Figure Fours. Suddenly, Max, who had been dominant since stepping into TJPW, found themselves on the back foot, struggling against this focused and violent attack.
As brilliant as Rika was, though, Max met her every step of the way. They sold that leg to perfection, giving up enough to make it clear Rika had them rocked but never going far enough to hurt their aura. The simple act of tightening a band around their leg made it clear that the monster was struggling. It’s one thing to be a monster for a few weeks, but it’s a whole other deal to keep up long-term, and this match was proof that Max can do exactly that.
It all came together as one of the most narratively satisfying matches of the year. Yes, Rika didn’t have enough to get over the line, but she was the first person to draw metaphorical blood from The Impaler and set up an avenue by which that belt might be taken from around their waist. Max, meanwhile, proved themselves to be so much more than a wrecking ball and has already gone on to follow this up with another great match against Shoko. Art has always questioned who the real monster is, and while Max held on to that title for now, there’s a chance that Rika will be sneaking into their nightmares to try and take it from them.
Fuminori Abe vs Takuya Nomura, We Are Fighting Detectives (12/10/23), Kakuto Tanteidan
I’m about to make a comparison that might annoy a few people, but thankfully, none are likely to read this. Fuminori Abe vs Takuya Nomura is the intelligent wrestling fans’ critical darling of the year, and it reminded me of ChocoPro. Now, before you scoff, hear me out. Nothing in Ichigaya has ever been as gleefully violent as this match. However, when it comes to vibes, this strikes me as coming from a very similar place. In the past, I’ve compared ChocoPro to Looney Tunes, particularly matches like Mei Suruga and Aniki’s falls-count-anywhere experience, as they use violence to tap into something inherently silly. Abe and Nomura did the same thing, and while it features a lot more punches to the head, the feeling around it is remarkably similar.
If it’s not already obvious, that description is intended as the highest compliment possible. This match rules. It’s two close friends beating the shit out of each other, but in a way that is also really fucking funny. Sure, part of that comes from Abe escaping submissions by shoving a finger up Nomura’s arse or grabbing some tit flab, but it’s also in the inherent ridiculousness of punching someone. It’s even in the way they shake their hands afterwards, reminding the world that driving your fist into someone’s skull doesn’t only hurt them. As the violence escalates, only getting sillier as it does, the whole thing takes on the air of a slice of improv with headbutts.
Plus, the wrestling is flawless. Not only do those strikes look incredible, but each transition is perfect and delivered with a snap that most people can’t dream of. Abe and Nomura have the kind of chemistry that comes from having wrestled side-by-side for years, and it pays off on the mat, as every hold feels like a natural progression from the last. I can already picture the thousands of people who will rip this off, trying desperately to get the same effect and failing miserably because they’re not that good. I don’t think I saw another match like it this year, and while I suspect I will in 2024, I’d be shocked if any of them are half as successful.
Let’s get it out of the way early. This match is far from perfect. It’s messy and all over the place while telling the somewhat hilarious story of Mayumi Ozaki fucking around and being punished by, em, getting to fuck around some more. You could throw a million criticisms at it, and I probably wouldn’t disagree with most of them, but I also wouldn’t care. Because while the match is flawed, the vibes are immaculate. How can you have anything but love for a battle in which Mio Momono turned up in deathmatch dungarees armed with a barbwire llama? If you dislike that, you’re a cunt.
And in amongst that mess, there are still some incredible performances. You have Kakeru bleeding all over the place, being offered up as a sacrifice for Marvelous to unleash their frustrations on. Then there’s sturdy old Tomoko, eating chair shot after chair shot and refusing to let Chigusa or Mio step in, even as the blood flows down her face. She’s Marvelous’s tank, and she knows she can take it, even if it will eventually lead to her defeat. There’s even a point where Chigusa and Tomoko set up a pair of doors to disguise a Mio dive, an action that has no effect on the dive itself but is just really cool.
However, all of that is set dressing because this was ultimately about two old foes, Chigusa Nagayo and Mayumi Ozaki. Sure, it’s 2023, and Chig’s knees are held together by sticky tape and love, so she had to spend most of the match standing on the apron, catching her breath, but when the time came, she was more than ready. She was going to make a show of this, and while the Oz crowd will even choose Ozaki over Nagayo, no one makes a show like her. Ozaki might be the one providing the movement in those final minutes (and as mentioned earlier in the list, she’s still incredible), but it’s Nagayo who brings the emotion, firing everyone up as they go to war one last time.
In its way, even with the barbed wire and smacking each other with bins, the whole thing is kinda beautiful. It’s no secret that Marvelous and Oz were estranged for years, the result of what appears to have been a falling out between KAORU and Ozaki, but on coming back together, Chig has chosen to give her old pal one last rub. It’s not something she needed to do, but she wanted to, and is that not what makes her great? She’s Chigusa fucking Nagayo, if she decided to come out and squash everyone in this match in five minutes, she could do it, but that’s not her style, and I’m very grateful that’s the case.
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