Calvin Tankman vs Kevin Ku, DPW Worlds Championship, DPW Limit Break, 5/19/24
Matches like this one are the reason I started writing reviews of wrestling matches to begin with. Really, it’s an excuse to spend more time with, more time thinking about, matches that I love. And I love this match. If I do an end-of-year list, and I probably will, expect this to be on it, the story of this one is sensational.
There are two dynamics at play here, one arc for each wrestler, and they’re nested together perfectly in this match. The (terrific) hype package introduces the idea that DPW Champion Calvin Tankman has gotten complacent over his five months at the top. This is a contestable claim, as a successful defense for Tankman on this night would leave him with the most defenses in the history of the title, but it leaves the question in the air. How motivated is Tankman, actually, to not take shortcuts, to be sporting, and to retain the title by putting his opponent down for a clean three count? In the video package he seems as motivated as ever, but will that translate when the chips are down? Challenger Kevin Ku, on the flip side, is trying to handle business with the champion, who took liberties with “Speedball” Mike Bailey in a title match the month prior. Ku obviously gives up a great deal of size to Tankman, and so his focus is on the classic tactic of cutting a big man down, compromising his legs. Those two stories sound rather disparate on paper— or maybe they don’t and I’m just not used to seeing two narrative elements developed side by side in this complementary a manner or in this efficient a fashion— but the way they weave into one another so gracefully.
Ku comes out the gate on fire, perhaps believing, as Speedball does, that Tankman has softened and gotten satisfied, perhaps just fired up to have a chance to hurt guy who’s been running roughshod through a roster of generally sporting wrestlers. Regardless, Tankman disabuses him of that early, trying to cut him off, but Ku escapes and delivers a dropkick that sends the champion to the outside. As Ku looks to press the advantage with a cannonball, Tankman snatches him out of midair in one of the most low-key high-difficulty counters I’ve seen in some time, and Ku eats a face full of barricade. He’s overpowered, but he keeps trying to go blow-for-blow with the big man. There’s a degree to which I think he’s still underestimating him. Tankman, on the other hand, is taking nothing for granted, beating Ku down with thudding chops and drawing him back into the ring. He’s as focused as he’s ever been.
Once in the ring, Ku tries to pick his spot to isolate Tankman’s legs, but he gets a bit of tunnel vision, his eyes are down, and Heavyweight Hustle punishes him for it with a slam, but only a moment later he lets his own attention drift as he seeks to humiliate Ku with a foot-on-the-chest cover, allowing his opponent a free shot at, what else, his leg. Maybe the dragon screw that follows isn’t Ku’s best option, but it sends Tankman to hold himself up on the ropes, and Ku follows up with another dragon screw to the other leg. The second Tankman lets himself be complacent, be satisfied, he pays, and he realizes it immediately. He’s staggered, but he dives forward with a big lariat, something he can deliver while going down. Then Tankman does something I didn’t expect him to do, even on rewatch. He starts working Ku on the mat. This isn’t his game at all, and he realizes it right away, but with the pain shooting through his legs, it was worth a shot. The one thing Tankman can still do, what keeps him in a place of advantage despite not really being firmly in control for any length of time, is never give Ku space. With an opponent as big as Tankman, just the appearance of them looming over their opponent, makes it feel like it’s their match to lose, even when they’re selling or, as we’ll see in a moment, jawjacking.
Despite Ku getting shots in on Tankman’s legs, he hasn’t really done the deed yet, he isn’t compromised, and Tankman’s hands are heavy whether he gets torque from his base or not, so after a brief interruption, he gets back on his game. Ku tries to go strike for strike with him, but as the saying goes, there are weight classes for a reason. Ku’s forearms hurt Tankman, sure, but one Tankman chop still fells Ku. The champion looms again, taunting his opponent, which he’s great at, but the challenger capitalizes on the lapse in focus to drive his heel right into Tankman’s left knee, which he then manages to tie up in the ropes, allowing him some free shots at the champion’s head and eventually a second-rope missile dropkick at that leg, which by this point can really be said to be compromised.
So we have Ku trying to chop down the heavyweight, and succeeding, and we have Tankman proving that he’s still as legitimate a champion as he’s been all year, only getting caught when he starts to become what he’s been accused of being, self-satisfied, creating the windows in which Ku can chop him down. It cannot be stressed enough just how naturally Tankman in particular balances both of these dynamics. His has been, and will continue to be, the standout performer in this match.
Ku starts to fire up, goading Tankman to hit him, hit him again, kick him again, feeding off the pain, til he rises to his feet after a chop, only to get felled by a few more. An enzuigiri does little to earn him any control, but it prevents Tankman from taking it, so it’s not nothing, and though a Flying Octopus attempt doesn’t work, it does take the champion off-balance, opening the window for a kneebar attempt. Ku isn’t getting his shit in, in fact quite the opposite, he gets dropped with a lovely delayed German for his troubles, but he’s going to keep shooting and eventually something will hit. Limp headbutts? Nah. Snappier headbutts? That’ll stagger Tankman, but the actual target is obvious, and Ku eventually gets to it, a second-rope dropkick, targeting the left knee, followed by a couple more dropkicks. It turns out to be sort of a limp comeback, not in the physicality or the underlying ideas, just because Tankman's heat has been sustained and not isolated to a control segment, and because some of Ku’s facial selling is a little hokier than is suited for a match like this one.
I’m tired of listening to Veda Scott on commentary. Caprice Coleman and Rich Bocchini are reliably a great duo on Deadlock shows, but Veda is just bad. Does that pertain to reviewing this match? Not so much. Has this though pervaded my entire time spent working on this piece to the point I had to include it? Yeah.
Anyway.
As the action spills to the apron, Ku manages to slip out of a piledriver attempt and sends Tankman sprawling to the floor off a back body drop and drops him again to the ground with an Asai moonsault. Both men are down and the ten count is advancing. Ku rolls back in first. The count is past nine, and Tankman, seemingly on instinct, rolls in too. He had every chance to be the kind of champion he was accused of being, take the countout win, and end the day still DPW Champion. But he’s a wrestler. His body responds to the ten count even if he’s too dazed to do it consciously. So he will do the sporting thing and break the count.
And he will pay for it.
Immediately upon regaining his footing, Ku charges in, and Tankman, again on instinct, throws up his leg to block. Ku takes it, and the other, ties them up, and dragon screws both at once, hitting a small package driver I suspect was supposed to be a snap suplex for a two count. Tankman, subconsciously, made the valiant choice, and within moments he’s lost control so bad he can’t even find it in himself to shake the cobwebs, only saved by his size, as Ku goes for another driver but can’t get him up, granting him a moment to get his bearings. Once he does, Ku has tried to create some space for himself, again giving Tankman precious seconds to recover. A powerbomb and an elbow to the neck cut Ku off and earn Tankman a two count and a chance to set up for an avalanche Tankman Driver. Ku slips out and manages a mean brainbuster before going after the leg again. Tankman is again suffering for the decision to be a fighting champion. A kneebar transitions to an ankle lock from Ku that, frankly, looks like absolute shit, and that Tankman is luckily out of pretty quickly. Ku goes for some leg kicks that also look bad, which is a shame because we’re barreling toward the finish of a really great match, now is the worst time for bad offense to take me out of it. And then he slips on the ropes going for a springboard something, please tighten it up, Kevin, but Tankman mercifully catches him with a back elbow and a Tankman Driver to win.
Other than the awkwardness on the part of Ku right at the end, this was one of the best matches I’ve seen all year. It was certainly the most narratively sophisticated. Calvin Tankman was pitch perfect in his physicality, in his selling, and in managing his dynamic and Ku’s. And Kevin Ku, other than right at the end, of course, was absolutely doing his part to support his, admittedly easier, side of the story. This is up there with Kingston and Briscoe as my favorite world title matches of the year so far.
4.5 out of 5 stars