2007: “This is the Life You Always Wanted” An Essay on the Promos of Bryan Danielson

Bryan Danielson is a great promo.
Now granted Bryan Danielson is also my favorite wrestler of all time and I’m one of over two dozen people writing a long form essay about the guy for this blog, so maybe that take won’t knock your socks off with the kind of umph I was hoping for but it is an interesting aspect about the American Dragon that really hasn’t been discussed all that much. In fact, for a large part of Bryan’s early career, his mic work was viewed as an out and out weakness, including by the man himself.
As Danielson’s star rose in the mid-2000s, many in the mainstream viewed him as an “in-ring only” type, ala a Dean Malenko (shout out to all my Khmer Rouge-heads), Lance Storm or Chris Benoit, either stoic or bland, depending on which side of the aisle you fell on in-terms of the debate of their merits as true superstars for televised pro wrestling. Danielson’s debut night in WWE focused heavily on this premise, painting him as a good in-ring wrestler but a basic plain-faced indy dweeb in desperate need for a culture shock from a true genius of the WWE superstar machine like The Miz. Obviously, most who had actually seen a decent amount of Danielson’s work to that point knew this wasn’t entirely true but there definitely was a sort of consensus shoulder shrug of acceptance from even his bigger supporters that the guy had never been known for his promo work.
Over the years, Bryan is looked at as a guy who has developed into a solid, even good promo. Bryan has credited much of this to his time working with WWE producers and writers. His “angry anti-consumerism” gimmick in 2019 and much of his recent AEW mic work, in particular, have garnered much acclaim.

But here’s the thing: I think Bryan Danielson has always been charismatic and frankly, I think the idea that he was bland, especially by 2010, is ridiculous. Is he more comfortable on the mic now? Obviously, yes. Does that help his promos? Again, yes. However, I think looking at something like character work in pro wrestling under the parameters of “how comfortable is this guy at saying the words” can be very limiting in our critical analysis for an integral part of western pro wrestling. It also brings me to one of the most frustrating topics to debate in pro wrestling fandom: charisma.
So before we get into the promo we’re here to analyze, let’s quickly define charisma. Webster-Merriam defines charisma as “a special magnetic charm or appeal”. That is a decently vague and broad definition. It’s pretty much impossible to measure or quantify, especially in the strange world of pro wrestling, which is already chalk-full of seemingly arbitrary factors that fans debate as if their opinions on said factors are as factual as the sky is blue. There’s general acceptances and dismissals of who has charisma and who doesn’t. Supposedly, as we grow as consumers and members of social society, we all grow a sense to recognize what charisma is and more importantly; who has it. The Miz, MJF, LA Knight, Chris Jericho these guys are just accepted to have charisma. Why? Well, they deliver their lines well, with plenty of gusto and they get the crowd to chant what they want. Anyone can see that these guys have it. Right?
Here’s where we find a bit of a divide in the debate. Many of us find the aforementioned type of promo guys to be, to put it kindly, formulaic in comparison with the Jon Moxley, Eddie Kingston and CM Punk types. I do want to be careful in keeping this piece both focused and not too dismissive, my point is more so that the idea of charisma should be and is a much more fluid concept than just “who can be most like The Rock”. This post is my answer to why I vastly prefer an Eddie Kingston promo to an MJF promo and why Bryan Danielson belongs in that second group of guys, despite his reputation.
So that brings us to the interview we’re looking at. This is a backstage promo from Ring of Honor’s Man Up PPV on September 15th, 2007. Danielson is just 3 weeks removed from a World Championship match with Takeshi Morishima, and the price he paid from that match is immediately made apparent from what’s on his face: an eye patch. Early on in their match, Morishima gave Bryan numerous stiff shots to the face, legitimately detaching his retina. Bryan would require laser surgery to realign his eyeball, illustrated during the promo with a sickening video of Bryan’s eye rolled up into the back of his head. Just 21 days later, Bryan has returned for a rematch with the champion. A blog post at the time from ROH head booker Gabe Sapolsky notes that doctors recommended a recovery of 4-6 weeks but granted, I’m not sure if that’s a purposeful exaggeration for storyline purposes. Regardless, I’d say most can agree that 3 weeks feels like a quick turnaround from a rather gruesome injury.

There’s an easy version of this promo. Just about anyone can empathize with something like nearly losing an eye. It doesn’t take a ton of imagination to conceptualize something this visceral. There’s a promo here where a man screams at the camera, about how angry he is about Morishima nearly destroying his eye, about how he’s out for revenge, brag about his own toughness in wrestling a match with the world champion for 20 minutes with one eye and maybe even throw in a low-hanging “eye-for-an-eye” cliché. Most would look at that man’s promo and say “Hey, that’s pretty good”… but Bryan Danielson didn’t become who he is by being that man. Instead, Bryan gives us something much different but much more thoughtful. It’s his greatest asset, it’s what makes everything from his selling to his intensity to his physicality work in a way that it has for few others: his authenticity.
There’s an easy version of this promo. Just about anyone can empathize with something like nearly losing an eye. It doesn’t take a ton of imagination to conceptualize something this visceral. There’s a promo here where a man screams at the camera, about how angry he is about Morishima nearly destroying his eye, about how he’s out for revenge, brag about his own toughness in wrestling a match with the world champion for 20 minutes with one eye and maybe even throw in a low-hanging “eye-for-an-eye” cliché. Most would look at that man’s promo and say “Hey, that’s pretty good”… but Bryan Danielson didn’t become who he is by being that man. Instead, Bryan gives us something much different but much more thoughtful. It’s his greatest asset, it’s what makes everything from his selling to his intensity to his physicality work in a way that it has for few others: his authenticity.
It’s a dragon (lol) that just about every pro wrestler chases but few are truly able to catch. Being as legitimate as possible in a world where everyone watching knows what they’re watching isn’t. It’s something that many modern wrestlers seem obsessed with. Crying in the ring, trash talking relatives of rivals in the front row, using “shoot” names or phrases; it’s all done in the perceived value that “realness” gives to pro wrestling. The idea that the drama has more quality once it enters “real” territory.
The problem is being this kind of “real” and being genuine are on two different sides of a fine line that requires a kind of vulnerability that is pretty hard for a lot of people to expose themselves with, especially in the fragile ego laden land of pro wrestling. When Eddie Kingston talks about drowning his demons or Jon Moxley talks about his frustrations and exhaustion with being a new father, they’re showing us a real part of themselves. When MJF looks into the camera and screams that Tony Khan is a fucking mark, even the most diehard AEW fan has some understanding that Tony Khan still has his finger on the button. Often promos of this ilk have the opposite of the intended effect, not fooling any viewer whilst also undermining the entire show by implying that what they’re watching here is the “real” stuff unlike the “fake” pro wrestling that everyone else is doing tonight.
One of the reasons that The Miz’s most shared and popular promo is a 20 second clip of him screaming at Daniel Bryan (who keen eyed readers may recognize as a familiar face) is because the promo drew on something that seemed rather legitimate: Miz’s insecurities about the criticism of his wrestling style. Frankly, sometimes this vulnerability can betray things about people they don’t even intend. When CM Punk’s return to AEW promo in 2023 includes a line saying “I’m sorry the only thing softer than (fans of the Elite) are the wrestlers you like,” Punk’s cockiness can easily be construed as pettiness and bitterness.

At its best, pro wrestling can portray the human condition as well as any other medium. Wrestlers are given an intentionality to their work that few artists are and a stage that few could hope to have. Bryan Danielson recognizes it and as only he can, he gives us an interview that doesn’t rely on easy buttons, he gives us something much more contemplative.
Bryan tells us how his family reacted to his injury. His mother was sobbing after his surgery. His sister, berating him for scaring the family. “You can’t do this to yourself,” she says “You can’t do this to us anymore!” Bryan is clearly affected by her words and talks about going to see his father to discuss alternatives to pro wrestling as a career. However, as the conversation wraps up, his father gives him a truly poignant piece of wisdom “But you know… this is the life you’ve always wanted.”
Bryan then reflects on what it is he loves about pro wrestling. The physicality, training to be a pro athlete and how much it means to him. This is where he starts to feel the passion, going through the litany of injuries he’s had before concluding “this is the life that I’ve wanted… my entire life!” Admittedly, that last part is a bit sloppy but it gets the job done.
Bryan then turns his focus to Morishima. He says he’s going to beat Morishima not because of his anger, not because of a thirst for revenge but because of his passion for what he’s always wanted to do: be a pro wrestler. And that’s it. All these words for a 2 minute 30 second promo.
Before I continue with the analysis, I do want to note, I don’t think anything Bryan is saying here is purposefully said with the intention of evoking a theme or emotional manipulation. One of the great aspects about it is how modest it all feels. It’s in the back, there’s no interviewer, and it’s just Bryan talking to the camera telling you a story of something that happened that he could be telling you at a restaurant, over the phone or on a podcast. Some may call that over-analysis but frankly a philosophy I hold with art is that intentionality is far from a necessity.
From a retrospective angle, there’s a fascinating number of themes and parallels touched on here, most pertinently the topic of career mortality. Something that runs through the 25 year span of Danielson’s career is how finite it feels. During his early ROH runs he would regularly not be on cards for stretches where he was touring overseas, his sudden WWE firing in 2010 when he was to be a part of a main event angle, his biggest rival’s tragic retirement in 2011, his short-lived post Wrestlemania world title run, his upcoming self-imposed relegation to part-time wrestler and most obviously, his own retirement in 2016. The one blessing of these hiatuses is that it’s allowed us time to appreciate Danielson in the moment, which is an unfortunate rarity. Even the eyepatch is evocative of the older Dragon we saw in late 2023.

This gives us the other major through line we should examine here: Bryan’s commitment to family. What makes Danielson feel so relatable is elements like this, how much his family’s care and love weighs on him. His first retirement was in large part for his family and his work to return came at his wife’s encouragement. His upcoming change to a part time wrestler is due to a promise to his daughter. So it’s a very interesting look here in 2007, before he’s even met his future wife or started a family of his own that we get a look into Bryan Danielson staring at a reality of a life without wrestling for the good of his family.
There’s such a care to Bryan’s words here that add so much weight to what he’s saying, I don’t want to call them “touches” because I worry that implies a potential manipulative intentionality to what he’s saying. Bryan being sure to note how supportive his sister has been for him by pointing out she’s been there through some of his most violent matches, it immediately makes it clear that Bryan doesn’t view her in any sort of antagonistic light. We see Bryan’s selflessness in giving real thought to leaving behind not only a wrestling career he loved but one that, already at this point, was one of the best anyone has ever had. My favorite detail, before his dad gives him that sage piece of advice, Bryan notes that he’s getting up to make him a tuna fish sandwich, and in an instant you feel the warmth that this guy feels for his father. That’s what I’m talking about. When I say that it’s hard to be this genuine, I don’t just mean many are reluctant to, I mean for a lot of folks, it’s nearly impossible. There’s a certain level of self-actualization required to be this real.
Right after Bryan says the line about “the life you’ve always wanted” there’s a millisecond pause as he re-gathers himself. I only noticed it on one of my many re-watches for this project. No tears come from it because he actually does hold them back. It is such a stark contrast to watching so many promos recently where guys are squeezing the stone as tight as possible trying to force emotion from their pores and disguising it with the poorly-veiled excuse of “holding back tears”.
What makes this promo great is what makes everything about Bryan Danielson great, his ability to create compassion by recognizing the human condition. Whether it’s for him or his opponent, Bryan respects his audience because he sees them as people. Every aspect of his game; his selling, his intensity, his physicality, his babyface fire, his heel arrogance, his comedy and yes, his promo work; all of it can be traced back to that empathy for people outside of himself. Perhaps that makes sense then that his biggest “flaw” of this promo may be a lack of appreciation for his own work. Towards the end Bryan notes that he may no longer be the best wrestler in the world, but he’ll wrestle with more passion than anyone else. I’d say, 17 years later, we can agree to disagree on the former and that the latter is a given.
Bryan Danielson understands other people. More than that, he respects other people and that very much includes his audience. He respects us by never pretending to be something he’s not, even in the inherently fictional world of pro wrestling. If you’ve ever seen or heard an interview with Bryan or read something he’s written, it’s not a hard line to connect to the man we see in the ring. The same dweeb who’s proud to sneeze with his eyes open in a documentary is the same one who fails an obstacle course because he can’t drink a large soda in under a minute in a WWE TV segment. He respects us enough to tell us the reason he’s stepping away from the ring. He respects us enough to share a very personal and beautiful moment with his father. Buddy Danielson passed away in 2014 and in 2020, Bryan named his own son Buddy in tribute to his late father. Through many trials and tribulations, Bryan Danielson has continued to live the life he always wanted. I’d say I speak for most when I say we appreciate that he’s willing to share so much of that life with us.