In professional wrestling, few booking concepts have been as frequently used — and misused — as the open challenge. At first glance, the idea sounds exciting: a champion boldly offers to defend their title against anyone, at any time. It creates unpredictability and has the potential to elevate new talent. But while open challenges have had their moments, the format has become a crutch for lazy storytelling and, in many cases, has devalued the very titles it’s meant to showcase.
The Rise of the Open Challenge Format
The open challenge concept isn’t new. One of the most notable modern examples was John Cena’s U.S. Title Open Challenge in 2015. Week after week, Cena defended the championship against rising stars and established names alike, delivering high-quality matches on free television. It felt fresh, elevated the midcard, and gave a platform to underutilized wrestlers like Sami Zayn, Kevin Owens, and Cesaro.
Since then, many promotions — from WWE and AEW to TNA and NJPW — have adopted their own version of the format. Whether it’s an NXT North American Champion, TNT Champion, or even tag teams, open challenges have become a staple of modern wrestling programming.
The Problem: No Story, No Stakes
While open challenges were once a novelty, they’ve become overused and often devoid of meaningful build-up. Wrestling thrives on storytelling — it’s the emotional investment in rivalries, character arcs, and grudges that keeps fans engaged. When a title match happens out of nowhere with no storyline context, it feels hollow.
Sure, a great match can still happen, but without a reason to care who wins or loses, the match is just athletic exhibition. There’s no personal rivalry, no build-up, no promos, no heat. Just two wrestlers thrown together for the sake of filling a slot on the card. That’s not storytelling — that’s filler.
Devaluing Championships
The other major downside to open challenges is how they can devalue a championship. When a title is defended frequently and without build-up, it starts to lose its mystique and prestige. Champions are supposed to be selective, with challengers earning their shot through victories, storylines, or compelling motives. Open challenges bypass that system entirely.
Worse, when a title changes hands during a random, unannounced open challenge, it often feels cheap. There’s no anticipation, no promotion, and no payoff. It makes the title look like a prop rather than a prize to be fought for.
Missed Opportunities for Long-Term Booking
Open challenges also limit the promotion’s ability to build long-term feuds. Instead of a months-long storyline culminating at a pay-per-view or major event, you get a five-minute match with no follow-up. That might work as a one-off surprise, but when it becomes the norm, it tells fans not to invest in long-term narratives.
Wrestling at its best is episodic — like a TV drama that builds tension over time. Open challenges, when overused, are more like skits. They provide a moment of action without any of the emotional payoff.
Conclusion: Use Sparingly, Not Habitually
Open challenges can work — when they’re rare, when they’re meaningful, and when they’re used to debut someone new or kick off a real storyline. But when they become the default booking method, they erode the storytelling foundation that wrestling depends on.
I’m Promotions would do better to focus on crafting rivalries, building characters, and creating stakes for title matches. Wrestling fans don’t just want action — they want reasons to care. And open challenges, more often than not, give them little to care about.
