NXT's latest tag experiment is a fever dream
Sometimes you walk into a bar, order a drink, and witness something that makes you question your beverage choice entirely. That’s exactly how I felt scrolling through the results from the June 20th NXT house show in Evansville, Indiana. The company decided that putting Grayson and Naraku together as a tag team was a good idea.
It’s the kind of booking that reeks of a 'pick names out of a hat' brainstorming session after three rounds of lukewarm beer. Grayson—the guy who usually spends his time trying to out-maneuver his opponents through technical precision—is now forced to sync up with Naraku. Watching them operate in the ring is like watching two different dance troupes try to perform on the same stage without music.
The lack of chemistry is honestly fascinating
You can tell there is no shared rhythm. Grayson has that methodical, grounded approach, while Naraku brings a chaotic, wild energy that feels like a caffeinated toddler in a wrestling ring. At the Indiana show, they did manage to pick up a win, but it felt earned in the same way a messy divorce settlement is earned. Every tag felt sluggish, every transition looked like a near-collision.
Is this a long-term plan or just a way to fill space on a house show card? If it goes beyond this week, we’re in trouble. The PWInsider report makes them seem like a pair of strangers forced to share an Uber after a bad date. It is disjointed, frantic, and occasionally clumsy. When you look at the Forbidden Door chaos happening elsewhere, it really highlights how much NXT needs to decide whether it wants a genuine tag division or just a testing ground for weird social experiments.
Why this booking choice rings alarm bells
Listen, I get trying to freshen up the roster. But there's freshening up, and then there's throwing two styles into a blender and hoping for a smoothie. The execution here is lacking. You need at least one guy to be the anchor, and right now, both Grayson and Naraku are acting like ships without rudders.
It’s not just about the win-loss record; it’s about the look. Wrestling is a visual medium. When your tag team looks like they’re having a verbal argument in the middle of a lock-up, the crowd checks out. They have to move past the 'this is weird' phase, or they’ll be off the TV tapings faster than a guy trying to return a broken table at IKEA. The current record for their disastrous pairing is sitting at 1-0 in live event competition, but the eye test is failing hard.
The long-term outlook is gloomy
If this were a Triple H project, at least you’d expect some sort of coherent narrative. Instead, it feels like we’re watching a developmental project that accidentally leaked into the talent pool. They need a manager, they need a gimmick, or they need to be broken up before someone gets hurt during a miscommunicated spot.
I want them to succeed. I want to see a division where teams actually trade tags and pull off complex sequences. But until Grayson and Naraku find a way to stop acting like they’re being held at gunpoint, this partnership is a total dud. Maybe that’s the point—an experiment in chaos—but for those of us paying for tickets, it feels like a waste of ring time on a Friday night in Indiana.
