In GAEA, Legends Redefine Themselves.

I'm not the biggest Manami Toyota fan.

I think it's important to consider proportion when looking at that statement. In wider circles, Manami Toyota has an unshakeable position at the top of the list of greatest wrestlers ever. When discussing the greatest women's wrestler of all time, she's often the shorthand answer that many point to. It's only really in relation to that effusive praise that I consider myself a little less than enthused. Toyota has her place in history, one that's backed by many great matches, but she's also one of the most frustrating workers held up to such a high degree. Her 90s work is littered with examples of Toyota actively detracting from a bout due to her fondness for lengthy epics and her general lack of structural instinct.

Again, none of this is to say that Toyota was devoid of talent entirely. Her sheer dedication to psychopathic feats of athleticism made her dazzle in a way that so few can replicate. The woman wrestled like she didn't fear death, and it often felt like she was brushing up against it constantly.

That's not the Manami Toyota that shows up to GAEA in the early 2000s.

The Manami Toyota that challenges Chikayo Nagashima for the AAAW Title here is bulkier, doesn't have quite the same freakish mobility as in the 90s, and just generally has a little more grizzle to her than before. Most notably, she has a significant size advantage here that she uses so wonderfully. It's notable, for example, that she goes for a Greco Roman knuckle lock to open the match and it's Chikayo that plays the smaller and much quicker worker here. Toyota doesn't spend the match stringing together those dazzling dives, instead working to use her power to ground Chikayo instead.

On that note, the champion herself is worthy of note. Chikayo is probably only second to Meiko Satomura as far as the homegrown GAEA talent goes. 2002 was a big year for both women with Meiko coming into the year with the big belt in hand only to drop it to her contemporary Chikayo. Up to this point, Chikayo's played the underdog in the company, using her quickness and lucha libre-style rolls and offense to try and get one over on the big bad bullies of the company. Here, as a defending champion, she defaults once again to that underdog role, and that adds a lot of dimension to the dynamic.

That dynamic of the scrappy underdog against a larger challenger is what helps make this match feel so rich all throughout. Add onto that this being one of the more patient and well-built matches of Manami Toyota's career. While Toyota's always dabbled in a longer, championship-style structure, I don't think her 90s work ever really coalesced into something as consistently compelling as this match in the early 2000s. The initial action they use to build here is scrappy and struggle filled in such interesting ways. I would never describe Toyota as a mat wizard--anyone who's sat through some of her interminable half crabs in the 90s would know this--which makes it so refreshing when Chikayo grabs a leg bar on the mat and Toyota responds simply by punching her in the eye. Chikayo matches this tone in her own right, later on trying to bite at Toyota's foot to escape a body scissors.

The inherent generational struggle adds so much intention behind tropes that might have otherwise been annoying. Take Toyota's pop up no sells for those big Chikayo suplexes. Contextualized here, it has more of the spiteful spirit one might expect from Aja Kong. Dismissive and bullying rather than cheaply looking for a pop from the crowd.

All this allows the match to genuinely build and compound. They milk drama from simple things like Manami using her weight to block attempted bombs from Chikayo, such that when the bombs do start dropping from both women it's a genuine nailbiter to see who gets that winning blow in. Chikayo's comebacks are delightful too as just as things start looking bleakest for her, there's always just one more trick up her sleeve that could sneak the victory as well.

The match also does a great job telling the story of Chikayo's resilience in the face of this bullying. She doesn't crumble under the pressure of taking on one of the most important figures in joshi history. There's a lovely inverse of the suplex no selling from Toyota in the final moments of the match where Chikayo demonstrates some true goddamn fighting spirit, struggling to her feet each time after a series of gross head drops. It's just classic babyface stuff, refusing to die even as the walls start closing in. How could your heart not beat for Chikayo in that moment?

Even in victory, I love how complete Toyota's character feels here. The smugness of dusting her boots off on Chikayo's broken body, the way she looms over her with the title belt. Toyota's never been short on charisma and bravado, but paired with the actual in-ring goods make it all come together here. This is the kind of match so great that it triggers reevaluation. So great that I have to hit the brakes and think, "I have judged Manami Toyota too harshly."

This version of Manami Toyota, spiteful and mean with a "fuck them kids" attitude, may be better than the one she became popular for.

Rating: ****1/4