This is the Knoxville Civic Auditorium and Coliseum. Opened in 1961, the Coliseum has been host to numerous entertainment events. I remember going there in the 1990s to see concerts (although I couldn’t tell you who played). Our local minor league hockey team, the Knoxville Ice Bears, calls the Coliseum home. It’s the place you take your second or third date when things start to get serious.
But when All Elite Wrestling took over for Wednesday’s AEW Dynamite program, that venue wasn’t simply the Knoxville Coliseum.
It was home.
Outside, it was freezing cold. Inside the Coliseum, the crowd was hot, yelling and chanting before the matches started. Children straggled in after their parents, clutching souvenir programs in clear AEW-branded bags. People who hadn’t seen each other for years greeted each other on the lower balcony. “I knew you’d be here,” they said. “I just knew it.”
Listen: that place was packed. The Knoxville Coliseum seats around 2,500 people and few seats were empty. From our vantage point, we could see people crammed into the top row seats all the way into the corners. If there was a tarped-off area, we didn’t see it. We sat waiting for the show to begin, counting the minutes in our headbrains, staring at the empty ring like misdirected audience members at a sleight-of-hand magic show. While we were paying attention to one thing, the real magic was happening backstage, in production trucks, and in last-minute meetings. Take it for granted, if you will, but television is technomancy.
If you’re looking for a straight recap of the show, this isn’t it. Things can be learned from seeing a live production like AEW Dynamite. There are observables and takeaways besides the memories and ticket stubs. AEW Dynamite was not just a fan’s realized fantasy, it was a learning experience and a case study in sociology.
It looks bigger on TV — On television, the set looks massive. The entrance tunnels seem deep and cavernous. It feels like the wrestlers have to walk for miles to get to the ring. When you see the set in real life, it doesn’t seem that large. It’s a testament to the camera operators that AEW Dynamite appears to be such a gigantic spectacle.
The secret language of wrestling fans — Before the show began, people were hollering “WOOOO!” like the Nature Boy, Ric Flair. One person would unleash the howl and hundreds of people would respond in kind. Soon after, someone would yell, “Whose house?” And we all answered, “Swerve’s house!” This is how wrestling fans find each other in public. It’s a mating call. Answering that call is instinctive. It can’t be helped. It’s a reflex. Next time you’re in a grocery store or high mass, shout “Whose house?” If anyone answers, you’ll know you’ve found a fan in the wild.
It’s supposed to do that — Sure, it’s awesome when a wrestler gets thrown through the announce table. Monitors go flying, the desk collapses, the wrestler lies on the floor and writhes in pain, and chaos reigns. But it only took about 90 seconds for the crew members to put that desk back together after Isiah Kassidy flattened it. It snaps back together like a piece of Ikea furniture. Easy peasy!
This is Bob. Bob is the head of AEW’s ring crew. Say hello to Bob.
Fire is hot — When Kenny Omega made his entrance, there was smoke. Fireworks exploded in the air and there was pyro. We weren’t that close to the ramp but believe me when I tell you, those flames are ridiculously hot. We felt that heat like someone waved an entire campfire at us. I can’t imagine how hot it would have been closer to it. People probably felt that heat blast outside. I hope they did. It was friggin’ cold out there.
Some fans are assholes — Here’s a suggestion for people attending wrestling events. Don’t try to get yourself over. You can chant and cheer, but don’t be a suckhole. A fan in front of us kept yelling at the local talent who got squashed by Hangman Adam Page. “Who the fuck is this guy? What’s your fuckin’ name? Who the fuck are you?” It did not add to the experience, neither did the man a few rows behind us who shouted horrible sexist things I won’t repeat during the women’s match between Julia Hart and Jamie Hayter and hurled slurs at Cope during the main event. Behavior like that is a bummer, especially at a show with young children in attendance. Read the room, folks.
[Full disclosure: I am not immune to this. As a huge Cope fan, I was compelled to yell at bad guy PAC during the main event. “You are unpopular!” I screamed. “You have made disappointing life choices! People are uncomfortable in your presence!” There. I sure showed him.]
Brawls outside the ring are better at home — Will Ospreay and Kenny By God Omega opened the show by brawling with the Callis Family in the concession area and beyond. Ospreay did a moonsault from the balcony. Omega beat the hell out of people in hallways. We didn’t see any of it. We could hear it, but the only way we knew what was happening was by watching the screen above the entrance tunnels. I have no doubt it looked better on television than it did for most of us in the Coliseum.
Fun note: At the end of the segment, Ospreay and Omega had climbed up a ring support tower. Omega cut a promo from about 20 feet in the air. Afterwards, Omega led us all in his usual signoff (“I bid you adieu, goodbye, mwah, goodnight, BANG“). Then he said, “Now get me the hell down off this tower because I am terrified of heights.”
Matches inside the ring are better live — Wrestling matches are insanely loud. In wrestling school, they teach you to tuck your chin and slap the mat with your hands as hard as you can. Wrestlers like Jamie Hayter and Cope have that down to a science. You can feel the shockwave from their impact roll through the venue like the deep bass in a disaster movie.
Commentators: they’re just like us! — Guess what commentators Taz, Excalibur, and Tony Schiavone do during commercial breaks? They check their phones just like we do! It’s both hilarious and endearing.
Knoxville loves Jeff Jarrett — ’nuff said.
Three cheers for dark matches — Before the main card, we were treated to a dark (bonus) match, designed to hype up the crowd. Knoxville didn’t need to be encouraged. That crowd was hot and high-intensity almost all the way through. Serpentico took on former TNA wrestler Craz(z)y Steve in a match so good, it should have been televised. Those two flipped and rolled all over the ring while the crowd, obviously pleased to see Steve on an AEW show, chanted his name like a mantra. Serpentico is an underrated worker who usually loses his matches, but he got the pinfall over Steve to the audience’s unhinged delight.
Remember where you are — During a commercial break, ring announcer Justin Roberts told the crowd, “We always have a good time when we’re here.” Wednesday’s Dynamite marked the first time AEW had been to Knoxville. More than one person, myself included, responded to Roberts by yelling, “You’ve never been here before!”
Making the sausage — My wife accompanied me to the show to take photos. I was pleased to hear her join in the “cowboy shit” chant when Hangman Adam Page made his entrance. I asked her what she found to be most interesting about the show and she said, “The cameras. You only see through the cameras when you’re watching on TV. But tonight, it’s like we were behind the cameras and we could see the cameras following the wrestlers around. It was a different perspective.”
She was also intrigued by the professionalism, specifically how MJF hit his marks effortlessly. “He moved from talking into the handheld camera in the ring to talking into the hard cam like it was nothing,” she said.
Wrestling is an art, one of the most vicious existing forms of theater. There’s nothing wrong with being a slavering fanboy who marks out whenever their favorite wrestler shows up, ready to brawl. But it’s deeper than that. Even if you’re one of those people who would never be caught dead watching that danged wrestling, there’s so much to appreciate about the business. Imagine having to recite a compelling monologue, knowing your lines and being exactly in the right place at the right time, before getting thrown across the ring. I couldn’t do it, and I respect the hell out of those who can.
Was it a perfect show? Well, no. Samoa Joe had a flight cancellation because of foul weather, so I didn’t get to see his thunderous return to ring action. Cope didn’t get massive entrance pyro, which was a bit of a disappointment. I was looking forward to seeing him lurch through a wall of smoke and Roman candles before running to one side of the arena.
Those minor complaints pale in comparison to what we got to see. Private Party lost the AEW World Tag Team Championship titles to The Hurt Syndicate in a brutal match. I got to hear the Battle Cry as Kenny Omega made his entrance to his old beloved theme song. The Death Riders wreaked havoc both backstage and in the ring. In a totally unexpected turn of events, Switchblade Jay White showed up to help Cope kick ass.
After the show, All Elite Wrestling founder and owner Tony Khan came out to thank the crowd for attending. He promised it wouldn’t be the last time AEW came to Knoxville. Here’s hoping he makes good on that, because you’d best believe I’ll be there.
