Is AEW’s Continental Classic the Equivalent of NJPW’s G1

I was listening to a podcast, and someone brought up the question of today's article.

So, I want to give a shoutout to the Wrestle Collective for the topic.

When Tony Khan and Bryan Danielson walked onto AEW television in November 2023 and announced the Continental Classic, hardcore fans immediately recognized the blueprint. Round-robin blocks. A points system. A grueling schedule spread across multiple shows. A high-stakes final at a year-end event. AEW wasn’t hiding the inspiration; it was courting the comparison. This was AEW’s answer to New Japan Pro-Wrestling’s G1 Climax.

But an answer isn’t automatically an equal.

The G1 Climax stands as one of wrestling’s most prestigious tournaments, the summer grind that crowns an heir to Japan’s wrestling throne. AEW’s Continental Classic, by contrast, is barely out of its infancy, carving out a niche in the winter TV cycle and attempting to graft G1-style stakes onto American weekly wrestling. So the question isn’t just “Is the Continental Classic like the G1?” The question is whether it actually measures up in terms of format, style, narrative, and prestige.

Right now, the honest answer is: it’s spiritually the G1’s American cousin, but not yet its peer. And that gap tells us a lot about how AEW and NJPW think about long-term storytelling, star-making, and the role of tournaments in their ecosystems.

What the G1 Actually Represents

To understand what AEW is chasing, you have to start in Japan.

The G1 Climax, in its current incarnation, dates back to 1991 as New Japan’s flagship heavyweight tournament, itself a successor to earlier league-style competitions from the 1970s and 1980s. It usually unfolds over about four weeks each summer, with wrestlers grinding through a punishing schedule of singles matches in front of often demanding, historically savvy audiences.

The modern G1 format centers on a round-robin block system. Typically, NJPW divides the field into two or more blocks. Recent tournaments have featured anywhere from 20 to 32 wrestlers, with 2023’s G1 Climax 33 setting a record at 32 entrants. Wrestlers earn two points for a win, one for a draw, and none for a loss, and the block winners then advance to a final or to semifinal playoffs, depending on the year’s format. Since 2012, the winner has claimed the right to challenge for the IWGP World Heavyweight Championship at Wrestle Kingdom in January, cementing the G1 as the road to New Japan’s biggest show of the year.

This isn’t just a tournament. It’s where New Japan tests its main-event DNA.

Masahiro Chono’s dominance in the 1990s, Hiroshi Tanahashi’s heroic runs, Kazuchika Okada’s multiple victories, and Tetsuya Naito’s big-match triumphs all helped define different eras of NJPW. The G1 doesn’t merely crown winners; it legitimizes careers. The phrase “G1 winner” carries weight on a résumé in any promotion in the world, and the tournament usually delivers several match-of-the-year contenders along the way.

The structure of the G1 underscores that prestige. Wrestlers work in front of mostly live-event crowds, not under the constraints of weekly TV, which allows NJPW to emphasize in-ring quality and layered storytelling. Mid-carders can overachieve, veterans can craft final masterpieces, and new aces can emerge. The entire company orients itself around the G1 as a test of physical endurance, psychological resilience, and booking creativity.

That’s the bar AEW invited when it introduced the Continental Classic.

The Continental Classic: AEW’s Winter Gauntlet

The Continental Classic debuted in late 2023 as AEW’s first significant attempt at a league-style singles tournament. It started on the November 22 episode of Dynamite and concluded at the World's End pay-per-view on December 30. From the beginning, AEW leaned into the comparison, positioning the event as a six-week endurance test across Dynamite, Rampage, and Collision.

The format closely echoes the G1 but with a distinct AEW twist. The tournament features two blocks, branded as the Gold League and the Blue League, each with six wrestlers, for a total of twelve participants. Every wrestler faces everyone else in their block in singles matches. AEW uses a soccer-style scoring system: three points for a win, one for a draw, and none for a loss. After the round-robin stage, the top two in each league advance to “league finals” (effectively semifinals), and the winners meet in the overall final at Worlds End.

“Continental Rules” serve as the tournament’s philosophical backbone. Each match carries a strict 20-minute time limit, and AEW bans seconds at ringside and outside interference entirely, with violators subject to punishment. In a company where run-ins and faction warfare often drive TV stories, the Continental Classic deliberately strips away that noise to highlight clean, wrestling-first competition.

The inaugural 2023 field combined workrate darlings, rugged brawlers, and rising stars: Bryan Danielson, Eddie Kingston, Andrade El Idolo, Claudio Castagnoli, Brody King, and Daniel Garcia in the Blue League; Jon Moxley, Swerve Strickland, Jay White, Rush, Mark Briscoe, and Jay Lethal in the Gold League. That lineup signaled AEW’s intent: the company wasn’t treating this as a midcard experiment. It was loading the tournament with main-event-caliber wrestlers who could realistically carry a pay-per-view.

AEW also raised the stakes with one of its most intriguing cross-promotional moves. Eddie Kingston entered the 2023 tournament as ROH World Champion and NJPW Strong Openweight Champion and agreed to defend both belts in every match. The winner would not only become the first AEW Continental Champion but also hold all three belts as the “American Triple Crown Champion,” sometimes branded as the Continental Crown. At Worlds End, Kingston defeated Jon Moxley in a brutal final to claim the new championship and that triple-crown status.

Subsequent editions have kept the same core format: two round-robin blocks, a 3-point system, no interference, and continued to feature top names, including Kazuchika Okada, Jon Moxley, Konosuke Takeshita, PAC, and others in more recent fields. The message stays consistent: the Continental Classic isn’t a throwaway TV gimmick. AEW treats it as the toughest annual test in the promotion.

So, on paper, the Continental Classic looks remarkably G1-like. But the similarities don’t automatically make them equivalent.

Format: Similar Skeleton, Different Muscle

At first glance, the formats mirror each other: multi-week round-robin blocks, points-based standings, and a showdown that shapes the title picture. Yet some key structural differences matter.

1. Scale and Duration

Recent G1 tournaments (especially G1 33 and 35) have featured 20–32 wrestlers spread across multiple blocks and roughly a month of shows. That scale creates a sense of a sprawling campaign. Wrestlers hit mid-tournament slumps, rack up injuries, and work long tours that echo the old territorial grind. You feel the mileage.

The Continental Classic currently operates at a smaller scale: two blocks of six, twelve wrestlers total, and a schedule of about five to six weeks. Matches unfold across AEW’s regular TV schedule rather than a dedicated tour of live events. The workload is still intense, especially given the U.S. travel and TV pressure, but the field size and match volume don’t quite match the G1’s vastness.

2. Points System

NJPW’s G1 uses a 2-1-0 system: two points for a win, one for a draw, zero for a loss. AEW, by contrast, chose a 3-1-0 system with the Continental Classic. That tweak might sound minor, but it changes the math. In the G1, a draw feels almost like a half-win; in the Continental Classic, it feels more like a missed opportunity, because a competitor loses two potential points instead of one. AEW also leans into “soccer-style” standings graphics on TV, emphasizing league-table drama.

3. Rules and Presentation

G1 matches allow seconding, faction involvement, and occasional shenanigans, especially when Bullet Club or House of Torture types enter the ring. The G1 enforces rules, but it doesn’t completely sanitize the product.

The Continental Classic, by design, takes a cleaner approach. “Continental Rules” prohibit seconds and interference, creating what AEW markets as a “pure competition” environment. In a U.S. TV context, that rule set feels almost radical, because it contrasts with the usual run-ins and distraction finishes that pepper modern wrestling. It also gives AEW a framing device: when a match carries the Continental Classic graphic, viewers expect a different tone and pacing.

4. Stakes

This might be the most significant difference.

The G1 winner earns a guaranteed shot at NJPW’s top prize, the IWGP World Heavyweight Championship at Wrestle Kingdom in the Tokyo Dome, barring the occasional year where the champion wins and chooses an opponent instead. The G1 isn’t just important; it’s structurally central to how NJPW books its main event scene.

The Continental Classic’s stakes have evolved. The inaugural winner became the first AEW Continental Champion and simultaneously held the ROH and NJPW Strong titles as the American Triple Crown.  Later editions tied the tournament directly to the AEW Continental Championship, with the incumbent champion automatically entered to defend the title in the league, and, in some years, the winner’s position threatened or shaped AEW’s larger title landscape.

Those are serious stakes, but they still sit adjacent to AEW’s primary world title picture rather than anchoring it every year as a fixed tradition. G1 winners headline Wrestle Kingdom by design; Continental Classic winners don’t yet have an automatic path to main-event All In or Double or Nothing.

Style and Storytelling: TV Tournament vs. Touring Epic

Even if the formats look similar, the feel of each tournament differs because AEW and NJPW operate in fundamentally different storytelling environments.

The G1 as Seasonal Epic

NJPW frames the G1 like a long novel. Each night advances not just the standings, but layered character arcs. Hiroshi Tanahashi’s late-career struggles, Tetsuya Naito’s quest for one more big run, Kazuchika Okada’s generational dominance, and outsiders like Eddie Kingston or Kaito Kiyomiya testing themselves against New Japan’s hierarchy all of that unfolds across weeks of shows where the company doesn’t have to juggle American-style network TV demands.

The commentary and backstage promos emphasize sports-like narrative: fatigue, momentum, pride, and legacy. Wrestlers speak about point totals and head-to-head records as if they’re discussing playoff seeding. Fans follow blocks like they would a group stage in soccer, debating tiebreakers and possible final scenarios on social media and forums.

The Continental Classic as TV Spine

AEW uses the Continental Classic differently. The tournament spans its three weekly shows, effectively serving as the connective tissue of late-fall programming.  Each week delivers a mix of tournament matches and regular feuds, with the Continental Classic serving as both a sporting competition and a narrative device that intersects ongoing storylines.

In 2023, for example, the Blue League became a crucible for Eddie Kingston’s pride and insecurity. He defended multiple titles simultaneously, fought former mentor Bryan Danielson, and battled Blackpool Combat Club rival Claudio Castagnoli in matches that mirrored and advanced years of interwoven indie and TV history. The Gold League, meanwhile, showcased Jon Moxley’s relentless intensity, Swerve Strickland’s ascent, and Jay White’s cunning heel work.

AEW leans heavily on promos, backstage vignettes, and commentary emphasis to make the standings feel urgent. The company packages weekly “updated standings” graphics and social-media recaps, and wrestling media treats the Continental Classic as a dense puzzle of possible paths to the finals.

Because the tournament airs on television, it also has to serve as a ratings anchor, storyline engine, and brand statement all at once. That reality shapes match lengths, finishes, and commercial breaks. The G1 can afford a 30-minute slow burn in front of a house show audience; AEW has to keep a cable audience hooked between ads.

So while both tournaments emphasize in-ring quality, the G1 feels like a touring epic; the Continental Classic feels like a seasonal TV spine.

Prestige: History Can’t Be Booked Overnight

Here’s where the Continental Classic faces its steepest climb.

The G1 benefits from decades of accumulated prestige. Its lineage runs through Antonio Inoki’s era, Choshu, Chono, Mutoh, Hashimoto, Tanahashi, Okada, Naito, and more, a pantheon of wrestlers whose careers intertwine with the tournament. When a wrestler wins the G1, they join that lineage and immediately gain legitimacy in the eyes of hardcore fans worldwide.

The Continental Classic, by contrast, only dates back to 2023. Its history currently consists of a handful of compelling editions, anchored by Eddie Kingston’s emotional run and subsequent fields featuring AEW and NJPW stars. You can’t manufacture a 30-year aura in two or three tournaments, no matter how strong the booking or match quality.

But AEW is doing a few bright things to accelerate the prestige curve:

• Cross-Promotional Stakes: By tying ROH and NJPW Strong titles into the inaugural tournament and later integrating the Continental Championship into broader AEW storytelling, the company positions the Classic as a crossroads of multiple promotions rather than a siloed midcard trophy.

• Top-Tier Talent: AEW consistently stacks the field with upper-card and main-event talents. Bryan Danielson, Jon Moxley, Swerve Strickland, Jay White, Andrade, Kingston, Okada, Takeshita, PAC, and others treat the tournament as a significant annual test. When wrestlers of that caliber chase the trophy, fans take it seriously.

• Annual Rhythm: Like the G1, the Continental Classic now occupies a fixed time on AEW’s calendar post-Full Gear to Worlds End, giving fans a seasonal ritual to anticipate. Over time, that repetition will matter as much as any single match.

Still, prestige isn’t just about who participates; it’s about how the broader industry reacts. NJPW’s G1 has become a global event that influences year-end award ballots, “match of the year” lists, and long-term narratives across promotions. AEW’s tournament has started to appear in those conversations, but it hasn’t yet reached the point where winning the Continental Classic instantly redefines a career the way a G1 victory does.

Fan Perception: “AEW’s G1” – Compliment or Burden?

From the moment AEW announced a round-robin tournament, online discourse framed it as “AEW’s G1.” Internal and external commentary essentially endorsed that comparison. AEW leaned into it through the rules, the graphics, and the tone; wrestling analysts explicitly labeled the Continental Classic as the promotion’s answer to NJPW’s legendary tournament.

That comparison works as a marketing hook, but it also creates expectations that AEW must meet every year. When fans call something “AEW’s G1,” they expect:

• Consistent quality and intensity across the blocks

• Meaningful long-term consequences for winners and standout performers

• A sense that the tournament, not just the world title, defines the company’s competitive hierarchy

AEW has primarily delivered on the first expectation; match quality in the Continental Classic has drawn strong praise, with bouts like Eddie Kingston vs. Bryan Danielson and Moxley vs. Swerve standing out as high-end TV matches. The second and third expectations remain works in progress. Kingston’s win clearly changed his trajectory; later editions have begun to use the tournament as a platform for wrestlers like Swerve Strickland or Konosuke Takeshita to emphasize their status.

The danger lies in inconsistency. If AEW ever treats the Classic as an afterthought or devalues its stakes, the “G1 equivalent” tagline collapses. NJPW occasionally experiments with formats, but it never stops treating the G1 as the company’s most grueling and prestigious test. That institutional commitment keeps fan faith alive even through weaker years.

So… Is It the Equivalent?

If you judge purely by format, the answer tilts toward yes. AEW’s Continental Classic:

• Uses G1-style round-robin blocks and point standings.

• Spans several weeks and multiple cities.

• Features a high level of in-ring quality and star power.

• Leads to a significant year-end payoff at a key show (Worlds End).

Structurally, AEW has succeeded in creating something that functions like the G1 within the realities of American TV wrestling.

But if you judge by history, cultural weight, and centrality to the promotion’s identity, the answer becomes more cautious.

The G1 Climax remains unmatched as a long-form wrestling tournament. It anchors New Japan’s year, builds its Wrestle Kingdom main events, and carries decades of mythos. The Continental Classic, while impressive and promising, remains a relatively new institution competing for space in a crowded AEW storytelling environment.

In other words: AEW has built “its own G1” in structure and ambition, but not yet in legacy.

What It Can Be

The more interesting question might be: What could the Continental Classic become if AEW stays the course for the next decade?

If AEW continues to:

• Keep the format consistent and sport-like

• Load the field with main-event-level talent

• Tie the tournament’s outcome to major narrative shifts (title pictures, character turns, cross-promotional feuds)

• Maintain “Continental Rules” as a mark of wrestling purity

…then the Continental Classic has a real chance to develop its own mythology, one that complements the G1 rather than merely imitates it.

Imagine, ten years from now, fans talking about “the year Swerve dominated the Classic,” “Okada’s late-career winter run,” or “the time a midcarder shocked everyone by running the block.” Imagine wrestlers treating the Classic as a bucket-list achievement, just as foreign stars now treat a G1 invite as a badge of honor.

That’s how equivalence happens in wrestling: not through one good tournament, but through a decade of them.

For now, the Continental Classic stands as an intense, serious, and increasingly important tournament that wears its G1 influence on its sleeve. It doesn’t yet match the G1 Climax in prestige, almost nothing does, but it gives AEW a powerful tool to showcase in-ring excellence, reward long-term fans, and build a seasonal rhythm around the kind of wrestling Bryan Danielson openly loves.

And if AEW keeps treating the Continental Classic like its winter crown jewel, fans may eventually flip the question. Instead of asking whether the Classic is AEW’s G1, they may ask which tournament delivered the better year.

That’s a debate both promotions should want.