Stealing from the best
If you're going to borrow a finishing move, you might as well steal from the absolute most terrifying person to ever step inside a squared circle. Forget your generic cutters. Forget sloppy spear variations. Forget whatever spinning slam the Performance Center is teaching this week. Lizzy Rain just made a massive statement.
In case you missed it yesterday, Rain made her televised debut on the April 28 episode of NXT. Debuts are always a crapshoot. Half the time, the live crowd sits entirely on their hands. They are too busy trying to figure out if the new entrance theme is actually any good. But the actual headline here isn't just that Rain showed up on TV and hit her marks.
The headline is how she actively chose to end the match. She put her opponent away with a move called "Thunderstruck." Following the match, she openly revealed it is directly inspired by former NXT standout and Joshi legend, Meiko Satomura. That isn't just a polite tribute. That is throwing a heavy steel gauntlet down in front of the entire locker room.
The massive shadow of The Final Boss
For the uninitiated, Meiko Satomura is not just another wrestler. She is a foundational pillar of the industry. They call her 'The Final Boss' for a very specific reason. She hits harder than a runaway freight train. She brings a level of violence that makes everyone else look like they are play-fighting.
Satomura's brief run in NXT and NXT UK was an absolute masterclass. She didn't do overly choreographed gymnastics. She didn't rely on flashy outfits to get cheers. She just kicked people until their souls left their bodies. Taking inspiration from someone with that specific resume is an incredibly dangerous game.
It is the professional wrestling equivalent of a rookie point guard wearing Michael Jordan's jersey. You are directly begging the audience to make the comparison. And let me tell you, those comparisons are going to be absolutely brutal if you cannot back it up inside the ropes.
When you name a move Thunderstruck and cite Satomura as the muse, the physical execution has to be completely flawless. It cannot look like a gentle push. It cannot look like a choreographed dance step. It needs to look like you are genuinely trying to decapitate your opponent on live television.
The lingering problem with legacy moves
This brings me to my biggest, most consistent gripe with modern wrestling debuts. A highly touted prospect comes through the PC and gets saddled with a legend's move. The front office thinks it will pop the television crowd. But the execution is usually awful. They completely lack the physical snap to make it look devastating.
Remember when everyone on the independent scene started using the Petey Williams Canadian Destroyer as a meaningless transition move? It went from a lethal, match-ending finisher to a mid-match spot getting a polite two-count. It completely ruined the psychology of the move.
Moves lose their aura when performed by people who don't understand the underlying mechanics. A finishing move isn't just the physical motion. It is the facial expression before you hit it. It is the violent follow-through. It is the pure, unfiltered aggression.
Satomura's offense works strictly because she brings terrifying stiffness to her strikes. If Lizzy Rain is going to echo Satomura's legendary Scorpion Rising kick or her Death Valley Bomb, she cannot afford to make it look pretty. It needs to look incredibly ugly. It needs to look like a multi-car pileup.
The Joshi pipeline to WWE
You also have to look at the historical context of Joshi influence in WWE. For years, the WWE style was rigidly defined. It was heavily produced, heavily formatted, and rarely deviated from the script. Then Asuka arrived and kicked the doors entirely off the hinges. She brought that hard-hitting Japanese style to Orlando and completely changed the expectations for a women's match in America.
After Asuka, we saw Kairi Sane and Iyo Sky bring their own unique flavors of violence. The American audience realized that women's wrestling could be just as physically punishing as anything the men were doing. Meiko Satomura's arrival in WWE was the culmination of that cultural shift. She was the respected veteran coming in to validate the entire brand.
Now we are seeing the second generation of that shift unfold. We have American rookies who grew up watching Asuka and Satomura, trying to emulate that exact style. Lizzy Rain is part of this new wave. She isn't trying to be Trish Stratus or Lita. She is trying to be a ruthless striker. That is a massive shift in how the Performance Center trains its talent.
It is worth noting how difficult that transition really is. A lot of wrestlers try to adopt a stiff, striking-heavy style and completely fail. You can't just slap your thigh and call it a Joshi kick. The mechanics require insane flexibility, core strength, and the willingness to actually absorb contact. When Satomura throws a kick, she is committing her entire body weight to the strike. If Rain wants to honor that legacy, she has to be willing to take the bumps that come with that deeply physical style.
What this means for the women's division
Despite my massive cynicism about rookies taking legacy moves, I actually love the raw ambition here. The NXT women's division is an absolute bloodbath right now. Roxanne Perez, Lyra Valkyria, and the current crop of main eventers have set a ridiculously high standard. You cannot just walk in with a standard headlock takeover anymore.
By attaching her brand to Meiko Satomura, Lizzy Rain is completely bypassing the rookie phase. She isn't playing the role of the plucky underdog happy to have a contract. She is telling the audience she views herself as a straight-up killer. That swagger is exactly what you need to survive.
The main roster is packed tightly. There are no free spots on Raw or SmackDown. The only way you get called up is if you force Shawn Michaels and Triple H to literally notice you. You have to be completely undeniable in every single outing.
But the pressure is now entirely on her shoulders. A debut is just a debut. It is easy to look good when the match is heavily structured to hide all your glaring flaws. The real test is month two, month three, and month four. Can she sustain the momentum?
The true test of a finisher in 2026
Let's talk about what actually makes a finisher work in the modern era. We are way past the point where a simple leg drop pops the live crowd. The modern audience has seen every flip, dive, and superkick humanly possible. They are completely desensitized to standard offense.
To get a move over today, it requires two fundamental things. Suddenness and visceral impact. The RKO is still the gold standard because it literally happens out of nowhere. The Claymore Kick works perfectly because Drew McIntyre looks like he wants to end your life with his boot.
Thunderstruck needs to quickly find its own unique identity. If it requires the opponent to stand completely still for five seconds like an idiot, the crowd will turn on it. It needs to be an exclamation point. It cannot be a punctuation mark at the end of a long, drawn-out setup.
The fact that she studied Satomura gives me a tiny sliver of hope. Satomura's entire philosophy is based on brutal efficiency. She doesn't waste a single motion. Every step has a clear, violent purpose. If Rain channels even ten percent of that aggression, she might actually have a hit.
The final verdict
I am entirely willing to give Lizzy Rain the benefit of the doubt for now. Her debut on the April 28 broadcast had the right kind of chaotic, nervous energy. She didn't look completely lost under the bright television lights. That is half the battle for a rookie.
But let me be incredibly clear about this. Meiko Satomura's moveset is sacred ground for diehard wrestling fans. If you borrow from the Joshi playbook, you better lay the move in. The absolute moment she holds back, the entire tough-guy gimmick falls completely apart.
Thunderstruck needs to seriously live up to its massive name. Otherwise, it just joins a very long list of moves that sounded amazing on paper but absolutely sucked in reality. The ball is in her court. We will find out very quickly if she is the real deal.
