Since it happened, the discussion of the Final of the TJPW Princess Cup has been seemingly never-ending, at least in the online circles that I tend to inhabit. The match itself, between former Princess of Princess Champion Yuka Sakazaki and Miu Watanabe, has not faced nearly as much analysis as the final result. Many were left confused and even angry by it, feeling a promotion that had flirted with novelty leapt back into the safe and known. However, I would argue that, far from being confusing, the Princess Cup tournament as a whole has been been a simple story, and one that TJPW has told well.
We are currently in the middle of tournament season in puroresu. New Japan, Stardom and Noah are all in the midst of their premier round-robin tournaments, the once a year events that are deemed some of the most important and prestigious prizes in the promotion, second only to the title itself. While the Princess Cup is not a round-robin format, it functions a similar role as these as one of the most prestigious events of TJPW’s year. However, the thing that really set the Princess Cup apart from the others this year, was its storytelling. The G1, N1, 5STAR all demonstrate more traditional aspects of puroresu stories: the build of new moves and finishers, fan favourite wrestlers beset by early upsets fighting back to win their blocks, the surprise upstart that starts hot but finishes cold. These are all very much par for the course. But what set the Princess Cup apart, in my opinion, was it not just having storylines for individual wrestlers, but the tournament itself being governed by a grander, overarching story that has its roots in years of Tokyo Joshi’s history and will effect events long into its future.
The whole tournament was based around the theme of youth vs experience, the story of the young guard reaching up to surpass their seniors, shown by the semi-final participants. On the one hand there were Miyu Yamashita and Yuka Sakazaki, by far the two most dominant figures in the history of the promotion, the two most prominent of the so-called ‘Four Pillars’ that stand alone at the top of the promotion, the Princess Cup trophy the final missing addition to their otherwise unmatched resumes. But opposing them stood two fresh faces, Miu Watanabe, a member of the Up Up Girls Wrestling/Idol group and Suzume, both just 22 years old with less experience combined than either Yamashita or Sakazaki individually.
The story was simple: Miu Watanabe and Suzume both wanted to finally break through the invisible wall that seems to separate the Pillars from the rest of the promotion, while Sakazaki and Yamashita, facing what felt like the first serious challenge to their dominance in a long time, sought to re-affirm their position leading the promotion they love so much.
We can see the threads of this story weaved into the matches that took our two finalists through their quarter and semi final matches. Miu Watanabe, the muscular powerhouse, is probably the physically strongest wrestler in the promotion, but what we saw in her quarter and semi final matches against Shoko Nakajima and Miyu Yamashita was the addition of a new weapon: a brain to complement her brawn.
Miu has previously shown the ability to strategise and gameplan for a match, such as in her Princess of Princess title challenge against tag team partner Rika Tatsumi in 2021, where she relentlessly targeted the champions back to set up for her signature backbreaker submission.
However in these matches she showed the next level of wrestling IQ: the ability to think on the fly and improvise, to know exactly when to use her power to devastating effect. This was shown by the finishes in both the semi and quarter finals, where both Shoko and Miyu respectively had Miu dead to rights and were setting up for their finishing moves, just for Miu to surprise them with a quick explosive display of strength and hit her signature Tear Drop facebuster. Both were only stunned by the move for a few seconds, but that was all Miu needed to score the pinfall. These matches were the textbook showing of victory snatched from the jaws of defeat by the quick-thinking underdog, and they were both utterly thrilling.
However, one more opponent remained for her, the last of the ‘Four Pillars’: Yuka Sakazaki. While each of the other ‘Pillars’ have very easily definable features: Shoko’s speed and agility, Miyu’s devastating power striking, Rika’s intelligent strategy, Yuka’s style is somewhat defined by its indefinability. She started as clever and quirky comedy wrestler, then moved into an agile high-flyer, similar to Shoko, but in recent years has moved into a more power-based game reminiscent of Miyu. Depending on the opponent, she can become either the unstoppable force or the immovable object.
So, how do you solve a problem like Yuka? Well one definitive answer is that you should, at all costs, avoid trying to stand and trade blows with her. This was something that Miu’s fellow Up Up Girl, Hikari Noa, learned in their quarter final match. Hikari, a deathmatch lover, was eager to show her fighting spirit by tackling Yuka head on, even standing and firing off multiple superkicks to Yuka, only to be floored by a single powerful elbow. It was only in the moments where she could catch Yuka off balance, with quick dodges and counters, that she was able to make any headway, however when these moments came she wasn’t fast enough to capitalise on them, largely thanks to the immense damage those straight forward exchanges with Yuka had done to her body, such as when she was unable to maintain the bridge off her signature Blizzard Suplex.
In her semi final match against Yuka, young upstart Suzume would use her speed to avoid a head on confrontation, not by trying to evade Yuka’s power, but rather with an all-out blitz. She stormed out the gates with quick roll-up attempts and attacks, attempting to keep Sakazaki under pressure and off balance, the match almost resembling a bear swatting at a bee at times, as Suzume dodged and evaded her senior’s formidable power and hitting quick counters, pin attempts and submissions. It seemed she had learnt the lesson of Hikari’s failure, and came so, so, so close to taking down the former PoP champion, but ultimately she would be caught out by Yuka, put down with a devastating elbow smash and ‘Magical-merry-go-round’ combination.
So then, the stage was set for the final. Miu was the underdog, the idol wannabe that had never so much as seen a pro wrestling match until she tried out for the Up Up Girls four years ago, now found herself poised to join the ranks of the elite of Tokyo Joshi. In her way stood as formidable an opponent as they came, Yuka Sakazaki. The senior that had conquered opponents from Japan to Jacksonville. It was a match that promised much and delivered. Shortly after the opening bell, the two launched into a flurry of high-speed rope-running as Yuka sought to establish herself as both faster than stronger than Miu, but was quickly matched, and then even floored by her juniors’ impressive combination of power and speed. It was then Miu launched into her familiar strategy, targeting the back of Yuka to both slow her down and set up for the backbreaker. Outpowered, Yuka tied Miu up in a variety of submissions, hoping to sap her strength and slow her down. But once again, just as she had been against Yamashita and Nakajima, Miu was quick thinking enough to use her strength and catch Yuka out, breaking out of a hold and launching a flurry of offence, before trying to set up her signature Giant Swing twice in succession. Yuka hurriedly escaped the first and then displayed seriously impressive core strength to pull herself up and counter the move into a brainbuster.
Again, Yuka went straight for a submission. She had learnt to respect Miu’s power, and wanted to avoid a straight exchange at all costs, in marked contrast to her previous two opponents. Miu however, displayed the final tool that has, in my opinion, set her apart as a wrestler that will one day take a place alongside the Pillars at the top of the promotion: her heart. Even tied up on the ground, with all the pain etched on her expressive face, she refused to give in. First, she crawled to the ropes to break the hold, and then climbed to her feet to counter Yuka’s attempted finisher: the Magical Girl Splash, by picking Sakazaki off the ropes and lifting her into the Canadian backbreaker. While Yuka was able to escape, she quickly found herself in the very same position Suzume had been against her in the semi-final, dodging and running around Miu’s attacks with quick counters and pin attempts, before managing to stunning her with a sliding lariat and lifting her into position for a Magical-merry-go-round.
But, just like Yuka had to her, Miu displayed her quick thinking and ability to improvise by slipping out of the move and into a front necklock position. She paused for a moment, as if to show the cogs turning in her mind, before swinging Yuka around in an ingenious Reverse Giant Swing, finally hitting the move that Sakazaki had so far managed to avoid. It was then Miu began pouring on the offense, looking to lift Yuka up for the Tear Drop that had ended her last two matches. Yuka just managed to wriggle free of the hold for a second, which is all she needed to unleash a devastating right hook that staggered Miu. Yuka capitalised on her stunned opponent with a flurry of powerful strikes for a pinfall, only for Miu to just barely raise her shoulder off the mat.
As she did, Yuka quickly looked down, in shock that her junior opponent not only managed to kick out, but even wanted to continue the match, with her eyes half-closed and hand raised limply in the air. It’s a very subtle moment, one that I didn’t notice the first time of watching, but it’s there, and it’s marvellous.
Yuka dragged Miu up by the arm, and hit a brainbuster on her, but rather than go for another pinfall, stopped for a moment, her frustration and almost concern about not being able to put Miu away etched on her face. She decided to head for the top rope, intending to launch another flying attack to put her younger opponent away for good.
Miu however, once again showed her heart, slowly rising to her feet and climbing to face her senior on the top turnbuckle. Quickly, she grabbed hold of Yuka and raised her up for an avalanche Tear Drop, dropping her straight onto her face from the top turnbuckle. However, while she had been able to use the Tear Drop to momentarily stun and score quick pins on her previous opponents, this time she was too damaged to use her brief window of opportunity, and both wrestlers rose to their knees to face each other in the middle of the ring.
Seemingly drained from her high-risk attack, Miu resorted to simply trading blows in the middle of the ring, a desperate last stand. Though Yuka would win the exchange and seek to finish the match with her super finisher, the Magical Girl 450 Splash, Miu’s fighting spirit still burned bright, and she dodged the attempt before quickly hitting Yuka with a powerslam.
Then it was her turn to attempt to capitalise with a quick Tear Drop, the same move in the same quick fashion as had taken her past two of the four pillars in this tournament. But once again, Yuka was just able to escape, and hit a flurry of devastating strikes, flooring Miu against the ropes. It was then, finally, outgunned, battered and exhausted, that Miu broke. Collapsed on the ropes, she burst into tears, screaming in defiance as the crowd willed her on. One last dodge, one last desperate strike, and she was done, put down with another fierce elbow from Yuka, who stood over her, as if daring her to get up.
There’s a lot of things this tournament has taught us about Miu Watanabe the wrestler. She’s blessed with a natural athletic ability, yes, but we already knew that. She’s got a good eye for strategy and a quick mind to improvise, as we saw that in the quarter and semi finals. But most of all I think, and this final showed it the best, she has the thing that separates the truly great wrestlers from the rest: the heart of a champion.
Even at her lowest point, with tears flooding down her face, her body broken by an opponent with all the answers, Miu never gave in. When others would have just ran from Yuka’s challenge to face her, she got up. Even though she had nothing left to give and defeat seemed inevitable, even she was so exhausted she had to pull herself up by Sakazaki’s arm, she got up. If Miu Watanabe goes down, she goes down fighting.
Yuka’s victory was almost a formality at that point, another thumping elbow and the Magical-merry-go-round finally put Miu down. And the finishing bell acted as the starting gun to a flurry of online discourse as fans, non-fans, their neighbours and their neighbours dogs rushed to their keyboards and phones to debate the result, to complain that Tokyo Joshi was yet again a house built on four pillars with no room for expansion. Miu’s performances had made many fans, casual viewers and even those that derided the promotion believe in her, believe that she could pull the ultimate upset by beating the promotion’s three most accomplished wrestlers in a row, a feat that we should have admittedly known would have been too much to accomplish in any promotion, let alone one who’s booking tends to be as slow-burn as TJPW's. Can you imagine a 22-year-old beating Okada, Tanahashi and Naito in a row to win the New Japan Cup?
But in spite of this, Miu Watanabe made all of us believe. Her ability in the ring, her ability to tell a story and her ability to connect with the audience is a rare combination, and it was on full display these last few weeks as for the first time in her career she main-evented multiple Tokyo Joshi shows in a row, including back-to-back Korakuen Halls. It was a star-making performance and make no mistake, while Yuka Sakazaki took home the trophy, this will be remembered as Miu Watanabe’s tournament. She came as close as any of the new generation ever has to upsetting the old order, but in the end it just wasn’t close enough.
As I said before, it was a simple story, but told well. Whatever you think of the end result, a lot of people, me included, REALLY wanted Miu to win. They were not just interested in the match, they were genuinely invested in the outcome. However, faced with the bitter disappointment with her loss, many chose to deride TJPW because of it, me included.
But after a bit of reflection and re-watching these matches, I’m not so sure if this critcism is fair? After all, can one truly have the ecstasy of victory without the agony of defeat? How can you reach the mountain-top if you have not first walked the valley floor? It might be more immediately gratifying to see new faces come and go, and the steady status quo might cause many fans to leave the promotion. But for those that stay, that day where the likes of Miu Watanabe will break through will come, and it will feel all the sweeter for the long road it took to get there.
You might say that the booker is simply risk-averse in extremis, that the lack of fresh matchups bore you, that I’m being too romantic about a silly little wrestling promotion. You might be right, but why do we watch pro wrestling if not to suspend our disbelief, to forget the real world and, even if its for an hour or two, believe in something we know isn’t real? It is, in my opinion, nothing but the highest acclamation for TJPW that they can still make so many people believe, even with nothing more than a simple story, told well.
Thanks for writing this, as someone very new to TJPW this year I went from not knowing who Miu was to her being one of my favourite women wrestlers after that tournament. 'Star-making' is the right word, you don't give someone that much of a push - even if they don't get the gold - without having something in mind for them in the future.
Hope you write more of these, love your style and loved your flight of 5 ep on wrestleinn.