Moxley vs. Allin at WrestleDream: A great match drowns in silliness

AEW’s WrestleDream last Saturday sparked quite a bit of controversy.

During the main event — a brutal “I Quit” match between Darby Allin and Jon Moxley — Moxley attempted to asphyxiate Allin by dunking his head into a small fish tank filled with water.

I didn’t watch WrestleDream live, but I heard about the spot and immediately thought, “How stupid.”

I was ready to move on with life, but the online backlash was so strong (you can read about that here) that I decided to watch the match myself to make a more informed opinion.

Surprisingly, I ended up enjoying it more than I expected. The fish tank bit was silly, for sure, but that wasn’t what bothered me the most.

First, let me bring everyone up to speed so we’re all on the same page.

The Backstory

For the past year, Moxley and his faction, the Death Riders, have been wreaking havoc in AEW. Though Moxley’s World Title run ended, his crew continues to run roughshod. Darby Allin, a staunch AEW loyalist, returned to the company after climbing Mt. Everest — where he waved AEW’s flag — to save the promotion from Moxley.

After Moxley defeated Allin in a coffin match at All Out, their rivalry only intensified. Their rematch at WrestleDream came in the form of an “I Quit” match.

“I Quit”

Here’s the thing about “I Quit” matches: they’re open to creative interpretation. Some end with standard submissions; others end when a wrestler is pushed to the brink of injury, humiliation, or is forced to watch an ally suffer.

One of the most infamous encounters is The Rock vs. Mankind at the 1999 Royal Rumble, where Mankind “quit” only because The Rock played a recording of him saying it earlier in a promo — convincing the ref that he had surrendered.

Indeed, the nature of these matches is brutal. But in the hands of certain performers, that brutality becomes cruelty — and that’s exactly what this match between Moxley and Allin was.

Pleasantly Surprised

Admittedly, I thoroughly enjoyed the start. Allin defiantly laid down the AEW flag — the same one he flew atop Mt. Everest — reminding Moxley and the fans of what he was fighting for. Moxley, ever the villain, wiped his feet on the flag, provoking Allin to attack with a fiery opening flurry, highlighted by a brutal dive to the outside.

But thanks to Moxley’s enforcer, Marina Shafir, the tide quickly turned. Once Moxley took control, the real punishment began.

After battering Allin’s jaw and bloodying his mouth, Moxley called for a weapon. Shafir returned with what the announcers identified as skewers. Moxley took one and jammed it under Allin’s fingernail.

It was uncomfortable to watch — but in the context of an “I Quit” match, it somehow made sense. Had the violence stopped there, it would have been a memorable example of how ruthless this match type could be.

But then it got ridiculous.

Where it Fell Apart

When Moxley — over six feet tall and 230 pounds — couldn’t make the 170-pound, five-foot-nothing Allin quit, the rest of the Death Riders showed up: Pac, Claudio Castagnoli, Wheeler Yuta, and Daniel Garcia. And remember, Shafir was still there.

Yet, even six-on-one, they couldn’t put Allin down. Not even when Claudio launched him from the ring through the announce table. It was absurd. No attempted rescue, no referee stoppage. It dragged on far too long and broke all logic.

After Allin was DDT’d through a table, he looked completely out of it. A referee stoppage would not have been out of the question. At WrestleMania 13, the iconic “I Quit” match between Bret Hart and Steve Austin ended when referee Ken Shamrock called it because Austin was unable to defend himself.

But here? It just kept going, and it lost credibility.

As the violence escalated, fans began chanting, “This is murder.” Announcer Nigel McGuinness ominously responded, “That’s what it might become.”

Then came the fish tank.

The Death Riders brought out a small aquarium, filled it with water, and Moxley dunked Allin’s head in repeatedly. Still no referee intervention, no backup for Allin.

Suddenly, the lights went out. When they came back on, wrestling legend Sting made a surprise return to save his former tag partner. He attacked the Death Riders, handed Allin his signature bat, and removed Shafir from the picture.

Left alone and at Allin’s mercy, Moxley grabbed the bat and dared him to strike. For a moment, both had a grip on the bat, yet Moxley didn’t stop the attack — which made no sense. He could have prevented his demise but didn’t.

Whatever. Ask and you shall receive. Allin hit him with the bat, and a few moments later, he finally made Moxley quit.

The Controversy & Final Verdict

As I mentioned earlier, the match sparked controversy — mostly of the “Won’t someone think of the children?” variety (again, you can read all about it here).

Let me be clear: kids imitate what they see on TV. I know I did. My friends and I mimicked Star Wars, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and yes, pro wrestling. It’s what kids do.

It’s called playing.

Of course, when a child gets hurt, that’s when the fun stops. For legal and ethical reasons, wrestling promotions are wise to include disclaimers like “Don’t try this at home,” as WWE did for years.

At the end of the day, it’s on parents to teach their kids the difference between right and wrong — and to keep them safe. Still, if parents feel a show is unsafe or irresponsible, they’ll simply turn it off. And when they do, that’s fewer viewers and fewer dollars spent.

Not good for business.

As for the match: I really liked it — until I didn’t.

As someone who’s been critical of Moxley for years, I thought this was the best he’s looked in a long time. His over-the-top mannerisms aside, he came off as a genuinely detestable heel — a credit to his character work.

Allin was great too: the scrappy underdog who refused to quit and used everything he had to stay alive.

But once the outside interference began, it all fell apart. And the fish tank? Come on. Chairs, ring bells, even tools make sense as weapons. A fish tank? Just dumb.

If this had happened during the old WCW days at Club La Vela, where the ring was surrounded by a pool, and Moxley submerged Allin’s head under the water, it would have been insane — yet devilishly brilliant and organic.

Instead, it came off as cartoonish nonsense. Worse, it drew the wrong kind of attention for a company already struggling with low TV ratings and an average attendance of around 2,000.

Ultimately, it was a great match that started with fire but drowned in its own excess.