Monday, February 20, 2017
Scott Colton vs Ronny Metro, PPW Taping 124, 30 December 2016 (Premier Pro Wrestling)
This is the PPW Challenge Pro Cup Tournament final match, the one for the championship, with the top two competitors facing off in the ring. I wouldn't call this match perfect--too choreographed, too clowny at times--but it has an element of perfection. I've written before about how much I like matches between well matched but also strongly contrasting character types. (Truth be told, I also like matches between two guys you can barely tell apart. It's the anemic in-between I'm less fond of.)
Colton, nicknamed "The Human Video Game," is the cute boy next door in a singlet. The guy's straight-edge through and through, with a touch of the Disney Channel about him, yet a tough fighter in the ring. Metro, ex PPW heavyweight champion, is everything Colton's not. He's a muscle lout in makeup and a Catholic girl's school uniform. Metro is big and nasty, prone to rage, sneak attacks, and sadism. Colton is technical to the bone.
Colton's unassuming manliness versus Metro's campy genderfuck touches on my basic inner conflict, the one played out in most of my wrestling fantasies, being my attraction to the two incompatible opposites of old-school butch masculinity and male sensitivity and passivity. The attraction is complicated here (the way I like attraction to be) by Colton's youthful male prettiness and Metro's poorly disguised virility.
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Xander Caden vs Nero Angelo, Match 517 (UCW)
Fans who like mostly (almost entirely) one-sided fights will probably love UCW's Match 517. Here in his third (I think) UCW video, Xander, still getting the initiatory hazing treatment, is at a serious disadvantage against the heavier, meaner, and touchier Nero, who persists in using wrestling as an excuse to cop a feel. Multiple feels. Nearly wall-to-wall feels. Feels up the wazoo.
This is not to say that the contest has no surprises and twists, it does--and a very nice one too, but the gist of it is a whole lot of suffering on Xander's part. Since the new kid suffers like a pro, I can't complain too much. His hope spots don't make an appearance till the midpoint of this 24-minute extermination, and, even then, don't blink or you may miss them. Mostly he suffers, with Nero's assaults resembling nothing so much as an exercise in bullying and colorectal exam.
For a while now, I have worried that Nero's frotteur gimmick may be approaching its sell-by date. It was cute at first, risqué, more than that: bold. I like frot, too. My interest in wrestling is almost entirely built on frot, and even I am beginning to think enough is enough--and the gimmick has, for several matches now, been veering towards creepy. Even creepy has its place, I guess, but, really, the Benny-Hill-meets-The-Joker leering has got to stop.
Most of Nero's victims have been unwilling dupes, ostensibly straight, if not outright asexual, dumbfounded by the brute's indelicate advances, but Xander is singlehandedly giving sissies a good name in wrestling, with immense style and (dare I say) courage. It's interesting to watch how he reacts to Angelo's uninvited fiddling about. And I have to wonder what Nero thinks of this match's final minutes--is this perhaps what he's always wanted?