Cody's TNT Title Reign Opens the Door for New Talent to Shine on AEW Dynamite

Eddie Kingston's entrance music, such as it was, consisted entirely of the mellifluous sound of his own voice, his Yonkers accent both musical and somehow threatening at the very same time. A stalwart of the independent scene for close to 20 years, Kingston entered the ring against Cody Rhodes with everything on the line.

Cody grew up in the wealthy suburbs of Atlanta, his television-famous father and brother providing a unique lens through which to view the unusual world of professional wrestling. The TNT Championship is not the first major title he's held. It likely won't be the last.

As great as he is, Kingston hasn't had that experience. As Voices of Wrestling's Ryan Dilbert explained, it's his unique struggle that has made Kingston a vital force as he enters the "veteran presence" stage of his career, that opportunity to transcend the hardcore scene as elusive as ever:

"Everywhere he has gone, Kingston has turned the lead-up to his next bout into a work of art. Kingston's violent threats swell with intensity. And he so often pumps in a palpable, unsettling aching into his speeches. As a result, every rivalry feels like a blood feud and every match feels like a battle for one's soul."

If Cody started with one foot on the ladder to the top, Kingston had to fight for years just to spot success in the distance. He's barely seen the ladder, let alone managed to climb it. At 38, this was his chance—and that sense of desperation informed both the verbal theatrics and the physical back-and-forth match that followed.

"You talk about the sport of pro wrestling. That's a joke," Kingston said. "Because every person you faced has been a child. I am a grown-ass man. And I will put you in the ground and smile."

Wearing the black and yellow of Japanese legend Toshiaki Kawada, the potbellied Kingston channeled one of the sport's most intense personages, taking the fight to Cody in an impromptu hardcore match that featured brutal strikes, hard throws and even a sprinkling of thumbtacks and then a trickle of blood to bring it all together.

The golden-boy Executive Vice President of AEW ended the night picking thumbtacks out of his back, his body a pin cushion absorbing years of Kingston's frustration and pain. While the veteran wasn't able to take the title, he impressed decision-makers backstage and will likely come back and get another shot on the national stage.

"I love seeing when people that don't work here put in an effort to try to get some notice or acknowledgment for the TNT Championship," Rhodes told Justin Barrasso of Sports Illustrated. "That's wonderful. When we say it's an open challenge, I think you'll see in the next few weeks that we mean open."

The Kingston experiment is a template for how the TNT Championship can be used in the future, a tool both to introduce new talent and to spotlight unsung greatness lurking on the undercard and on the YouTube show AEW Dark.

To some, a championship belt is little more than a bauble, a prop that helps bring an outfit together. But it's much more than that—the physical and spiritual representation of excellence and craft, a reminder of who matters enough to fight for it and wear it and who still has some work left to do in order to earn their place at the top of the sport.

This week it was Kingston, the Mad King of the wretched and forlorn. Cody's previous defense was against Sonny Kiss, a rose previously hidden in the (AEW) Dark but ready to feel the sun on his skin and fully bloom. Kiss hadn't won a singles match all year before challenging for the strap—a fact quickly forgotten the first time he smashed Cody in the mush and made it clear the budding legend would have to earn the win on that night.

Both presented amazing opportunities to wrestlers who desperately deserved them. And, not coincidentally, in both matches the challenger opened eyes to the kind of potential that many suspected they had inside them if they only had the chance to show it.

Photo courtesy of AEW

It's a responsibility all of AEW's leading lights have taken on their shoulders, a task worthy of their dual roles as wrestlers and executives. The balance between competitive instinct and brand building teeters nervously and threatens to collapse on a weekly basis—but each week the core wrestlers of AEW continue to help bring the rest of the roster up to their lofty level.

The Young Bucks have devoted time and energy to building the tag division, often taking a supporting role to help others build their reputations. Kenny Omega, widely considered among the best singles wrestler in the world, has been used instead to help establish "Hangman" Adam Page as a vital force.

And now Cody, with the TNT Championship in his possession, is better positioned than ever to help up-and-comers and deserving veterans alike prove to fans that they belong among the top wrestlers in the promotion.

The AEW World Championship is the realm of podcast superstars, WWE refugees and the chosen few selected for stardom. The TNT Championship is something different. It's become a belt for the unsung and technically unworthy—the people who need the spotlight because they may have forgotten what it feels like to shine.

Jonathan Snowden covers Combat Sports for Bleacher Report.