SummerSlam 2017: Braun Strowman Wrecked the Main Event and Saved a Four-Hour Marathon

The opening kickoff six-man has the unenviable job of wrestling while much of Barclays Center is still filling. The work is competent, and Jason Jordan's explosive suplexes give the match a clear burst of energy whenever he enters. The Hardys remain popular enough to create reactions, while The Miz is already polished at directing a short television-style structure around less established partners. Nothing develops deeply because the bout is built as a showcase rather than a destination. The finish, with Miz catching Jordan after a blind tag and hitting the Skull Crushing Finale, continues Jordan's difficult introduction to the Raw audience without damaging the veterans. It is acceptable warm-up wrestling, but the sparse atmosphere and low stakes keep it from feeling like part of a major anniversary event.

Neville and Tozawa get enough time to make the six-day title reign feel like more than a bookkeeping detour. Tozawa's bursts of speed and striking force create believable opportunities, while Neville works with the patience of a champion who knows the challenger must eventually take a risk. The closing stretch is the match's strength. Tozawa fights for the top-rope senton, Neville raises his knees, and the Red Arrow immediately restores the title to the division's dominant personality. The crowd responds better than it does for much of the early show, and both wrestlers move with urgency without rushing through transitions. The reversal of the recent title change is debatable, but the match itself gives it enough quality to feel purposeful rather than arbitrary.

The Usos and The New Day deliver the first match of the night that feels unmistakably like SummerSlam. Xavier Woods spends long stretches surviving isolation, which gives Big E's eventual entry the force of a true hot tag. From there, the match becomes a layered sprint of tandem offense, interrupted finishes, dives, and near falls that keep escalating without becoming random. The Midnight Hour false finish is especially effective because Jimmy's save arrives at the last possible instant. Big E's spear through the ropes and the Usos' barrage of superkicks push the pace into overdrive, yet the ending still feels earned when repeated splashes finally keep him down. Both teams leave stronger, and the title change extends a rivalry that keeps finding new combinations instead of repeating itself.

Cena and Corbin wrestle a perfectly coherent ten-minute match at the exact moment Corbin needs something more meaningful than coherence. Days after a failed Money in the Bank cash-in, Corbin arrives already diminished, and the structure never creates a convincing reason to believe this is the beginning of a rebound. His slide-out-and-back-in clothesline spot is used repeatedly until Cena finally anticipates it, which at least gives the finish a simple internal logic. Corbin lands Deep Six and a few heavy counters, while Cena supplies the crowd response and familiar comeback rhythm. The Attitude Adjustment ends things cleanly without a prolonged struggle. Nothing is technically disastrous, but the result feels less like a competitive SummerSlam match than a confirmation that Corbin has moved down the pecking order.

Naomi and Natalya build a stronger match than the thin rivalry suggests by giving Natalya a clear tactical role. She repeatedly slows Naomi's athletic bursts, redirects momentum, and searches for the Sharpshooter instead of trying to mirror the champion's speed. Naomi's springboard offense and headscissor variations add movement, while Natalya's catapult into the ring post gives the middle section some physical weight. The finish is clean and satisfying: Naomi's split-legged moonsault meets raised knees, Natalya immediately returns to the Sharpshooter, and the champion submits in the center. The crowd takes time to invest but responds to the closing stretch. Natalya's victory also feels emotionally justified after years of being used inconsistently, giving the match more warmth than its build provided.

The shark cage is supposed to remove Enzo Amore from the match, yet his constant presence becomes the loudest part of an already slow contest. Big Show works around a heavily wrapped right hand, and his selling gives the bout its only consistent piece of logic as Cass attacks the injury and forces him to fight left-handed. The problem is pace. Long stretches of basic offense land in front of an audience that openly loses interest, and the match never develops enough danger to justify its stipulation. Enzo eventually oils himself, squeezes through the cage, and drops into the ring only to eat a big boot from Cass. That visual gets the best reaction, but it also confirms that the wrestling was secondary. Cass wins after another big boot and elbow, ending a segment that feels longer than its runtime.

Rusev attacks Orton before the bell and spends enough time battering him around ringside to suggest the scheduled match will begin with a meaningful advantage. Instead, the bell rings, Rusev charges, Orton ducks, and one RKO ends the official contest in roughly ten seconds. As a surprise, the finish gets a reaction. As a SummerSlam match, it provides almost nothing to evaluate and makes the pre-bell assault feel pointless because Rusev cannot convert any of it into even a minute of control. Orton receives a quick rehabilitation after several pay-per-view losses, but the price is turning Rusev into a joke when he badly needs direction of his own. The later television rematch partly acknowledges the imbalance, yet this version remains more angle than wrestling match.

Bliss and Banks produce a respectable title match without the emotional foundation their talent deserves. Bliss targets Banks' left shoulder late, using the ring apron to create the injury and then returning to the arm with focused offense. That gives the closing minutes a useful thread, especially when Banks has to reapply the Bank Statement after Bliss attacks the damaged shoulder to escape. The champion's top-rope offense and Banks' counters are clean, and the final submission receives a strong reaction. The weakness is heat. Bayley's injury forced a late change to the challenger, so the match feels more like a well-executed replacement plan than the payoff to a personal rivalry. Banks' fourth Raw women's title is notable, but the short reign that follows also makes the victory feel less substantial in retrospect.

The entrance is more memorable than the match, which is both the compliment and the problem. Bálor's Demon presentation instantly raises the temperature in Barclays Center and gives him an aura that ordinary television appearances had struggled to reproduce after his injury. Once the bell rings, Wyatt controls stretches with heavy offense and familiar mannerisms while Bálor sells before launching the expected comeback. There are useful moments, including the floor dive, Wyatt's uranage, and the sequence where the crab walk meets Bálor's sudden roar. Still, the transitions are basic and the bout never develops a second layer beyond the idea that the Demon is stronger than ordinary Bálor. Sling Blade, corner dropkick, and Coup de Grâce finish the match decisively. The spectacle works; the wrestling is routine.

The emotional value of Ambrose and Rollins reuniting carries the early minutes, but the match earns its own momentum once Cesaro and Sheamus isolate Rollins and repeatedly prevent the tag. That control segment gives Ambrose's eventual entry real force and lets the challengers' improvised teamwork feel like progress rather than instant perfection. The beach-ball distraction briefly hijacks the atmosphere, with Cesaro famously entering the crowd to destroy it, but the wrestlers recover quickly. The final stretch is excellent. Submissions, double-team power moves, and near falls stack logically until Rollins' hurricanrana sends Cesaro into Sheamus, opening the lane for strikes and Dirty Deeds. The title change rewards weeks of uneasy reconciliation, and the post-match fist pose gives the audience the Shield-adjacent image it came to see.

Styles and Owens finally deliver a match in their rivalry that feels appropriately urgent, although the special referee stipulation keeps pulling attention toward Shane McMahon. The opening is physical, the counters are fast, and both wrestlers work as if they understand that earlier meetings left expectations unfulfilled. The middle becomes deliberately chaotic when Shane absorbs a springboard splash, misses Owens tapping in the Calf Crusher, and later notices Styles' foot on the rope after a powerbomb. Those incidents create the intended grievance without making either wrestler look incompetent. Styles survives the argument-filled final sequence, lands the Phenomenal Forearm and another Styles Clash, and retains cleanly enough for the rivalry to move elsewhere. The match is exciting, but every major referee beat also reminds the audience that the real destination is Owens versus Shane.

Nakamura's live violin entrance promises a coronation atmosphere that the match never approaches. His kicks and movement create brief flashes of the stylistic contrast WWE advertised, while Mahal tries to slow the pace and work from strength. The Singh Brothers eventually become the real structure, as they interfere, absorb Kinshasas, and create the opening for Mahal's Khallas. That finish is familiar enough by this point that it drains the building instead of generating outrage. More importantly, Nakamura's first main-roster pinfall loss should feel consequential, yet the presentation treats it like another chapter in the champion's standard formula. The wrestling is not a disaster, but it is bland, short on escalation, and saddled with a finish that undercuts the challenger at the moment he most needs elevation.

The main event understands exactly what four heavyweights should do after a long show: skip the waiting and start destroying things. Joe attacks with the Coquina Clutch, Reigns spears Lesnar through a barricade, and Strowman escalates the violence by powerslamming the champion through two announce tables before tipping another table onto him. Lesnar being removed on a stretcher creates a temporary three-man match and, more importantly, makes Strowman look like the first opponent in years capable of physically overwhelming him. When Lesnar returns, every pairing feels dangerous. Reigns and Joe get credible near falls and submissions, Strowman keeps surviving, and the finish comes only after Lesnar catches Reigns' spear attempt and lands the F-5. The champion retains, but Strowman owns the memory of the match.