Sunday, February 28, 2010

Justin Flash

Justin Flash, 25, 5'9", 195#, is an independent wrestler from Danville, Virginia.

Here he is in a match versus Horrorshow last May in Suffolk, Virginia, with Vanguard Championship Wrestling (via sevencityproductions).

Dallas Riley

Dallas Riley, 22, 6'0", 203#, is an independent wrestler from Brunswick, Georgia, who debuted four years ago.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

My Favorite Living Artist

Four new works by my favorite living artist and friend to this blog, Brian Kenny.

Stan Lee


Elite Wrestling Entertainment operates out of Ripley, Tennessee, north of Memphis.  No offense meant to anybody, but this outfit is not much in terms of pretty faces, lithesome youths, or big muscle, but it's got catch wrestling action to rival anybody's, anywhere, to judge by its stash of 150+ YouTube uploads, shot (brilliantly) with a single handheld camera that not only captures every move but also throws the viewer into the ring with the combatants.  (And, to be fair, EWE has offered up goodies like Ty Hamilton and Greg King Jr. in the past.)

I have long contended that the erotic allure of wrestling centers more in the heart of the fight and the fighters than any measurable GQ or Blueboy or Mr. Universe factors.  Now everybody here knows I am a respecter of handsomeness in a man, and round firm muscle--not to forget huge cock--gets my heart to beating faster, just as it does anybody else's, and these, by themselves, carry a lot of sexual heat, to be sure.  But in wrestling, even chubby or skinny fighters, even (as I have said elsewhere) lady wrestlers, if they have the fire inside them, know the moves, move from one hold to the next with a certain amount of fluency, carry the drama of the program, and don't shy away from body contact, even the homely can give me wood if they put up a good enough fight.  I can't explain why this is so, but it is.

Take the match above, shot last winter, pitting "Golden Boy" Greg Anthony against Stan Lee--in a hair versus belt match.  Lee, then heavyweight champion, is a handsome young fighter with a thick, hardy body--and tight skimpy trunks--with the crowd firmly behind him.  He's beefy in a smooth attractive way, with shoulders and arms that speak more of ploughing or construction work than of three-hour workouts at Gold's Gym.  He hasn't a mark on him--and that smooth, cherubic whiteness is a signifier of his basic decency, perhaps even the innocence and aspirations of youth (and, oh, for the record, haters, by "whiteness" I'm referring to color as in paint and baked goods, not color as in race).  He fights with a stern, determined, no-nonsense expression on his face--and doesn't seem to know the meaning of the word "gimmick"--except that his whole boy-next-door bearing is a sort of gimmick, of course--and it works.

He fights well against Anthony, a good villain, universally loathed and ready to take the easy, cowardly shot to win the match and save his long hair.  For much of the match, Lee suffers--and suffers beautifully--at the hands of the heel, which only sweetens the paybacks, however intermittent and brief.  Both fighters seem to know that the match is really all about the marzipan smoothness of Stan Lee's thighs and the tempting jellied defenseless curve of Lee's belly.  So the action circles in on the champion's body, in torment and in victory by turns--a ballet of American masculinity and a melodrama of ruthless guile coming to blows with honest youthful enthusiasm.  And what is sexier than that?

Friday, February 26, 2010

Food for Fought


I would.


Thursday, February 25, 2010


 (via Classics9271985)

The feud continues, as Fang and Sucio slug it out in a no-disqualification, pinfall-anywhere match, taped February 3rd for Ohio Valley Wrestling.  Of course, the best feuds involve two hotties, and I like both these guys, both the mini-Sting and the devil-worshiping headbanger.

The whole wholesome "family man" schtick turns my stomach, though, and in this one instance I couldn't agree more with the guy who says, "Keep your women at home"; if you find yourself in the same situation, provided you too are a perverse family-hater, try what works for me:  re-imagine this as a fight between two exes who broke up over a three-way gone bad--it goes down a lot easier.

Ashley Ryder

Ashley Ryder, 28, 5'8", 152#, is a porn star and regular emcee and wrestler at Grapple101, a weekly club wrestling event in London.

Last night he wrestled Essex Boy (in mask).  What did you do at your favorite Wednesday night hangout?

(via grapple101london)

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Match 124: Klown versus James the Never Give Up Kid (Review)

Green is definitely Klown's color.  Green is the color of the UCW fighter's skimpy new shimmering tights--and they, along with some added mass--in the right places--, are making all the difference in the world in this nineteen year old's watchability.

Not only does Klown look shockingly terrific showing off more of his skin, but the new look brings out new dimensions of his character.  Who could have guessed that the soft-spoken street kid with the soulful Kafka eyes would grow into such a fantastic heel?  He has a new swagger to go with the new threads too, and as he whips James Never Back Down Kid around the mat in this match, he talks trash with the best of them, pulling James' head up by his hair and taunting him, "Does it hurt?" clearly having found a new black space in his heart that savors physically controlling another man and making him squirm in pain.  I like that in a guy.

UCW was not kidding--or exaggerating--when recently it announced that significant changes were underway.  The volume has definitely been turned up for 2010.  The new league (still less than a year old) has never shied away from brutality, eroticism, pulchritude, and humor, and lately it's been breaking open whole new prototypes for not only itself, but for underground wrestling in general.  (Improvements continue, as UCW is now accepting donations through PayPal to buy a wrestling ring--and, for every donation of $25 or more, offering a gift of a video of a kickass four-corner tag match, which throws Black Dragon, James, Joker, and Klown together to see which fighter has it in him to rise to the top.  The way I see it the $25 is an investment in wrestling history, plain and simple.)

The Klown-versus-James fight is also a good showcase for James' talents, matching Klown mean for mean, insult for insult, and wedgy for wedgy.  James, one of two trainers working with the UCW fighters, has largely been eclipsed by younger talents with fresher faces and smoother pecs, but all that is changing now.  The hairy-chested hero is making a splash in a very big way in the latest batch of video downloads, notching his name up there with Klown and Joker as a likely contender for champ Axel's belt.  In fact, reportedly the champ himself has said that if anybody takes the title away from him, he hopes it will be James.

James and Klown's fight intensifies from one minute to the next, reaching a crescendo of fast-paced reversals, each one more wrenching and surprising than the last.  The familiar parameters of previous UCW product are still here:  real gut-punching, ball-snagging, body-slamming catch-as-catch-can wrestling, in a stark padded space--in this case, with no ref in sight--and no rules except, as boss Michael Tovar noted recently, "Don't kill each other."

I know I keep saying of each UCW release that it is the best one yet.  But I wouldn't be saying it if it were not true, each and every time.  Sure, I am admittedly a hardboiled fan of the league and its aggressive boy-next-door roster, and I wear my bias for it on my sleeve, but I have good reasons for being such a zealous fan.  This shit is really something special.  No doubt one day the growth spurt will stop and the quality will reach some kind of plateau, but for now UCW continues to amaze and captivate.  The matches are sexier, faster, busier, harder hitting, zanier, and nastier.  Tovar and his gang of roughnecks are delving into some primal emotions here, while at the same time managing to make it all look like cleancut all-American fun (which, hell, it is).

Match 125: Three-Way Dance: Black Dragon vs Joker vs James the Never Give Up Kid (Review)

I don't know what UCW is up to, but I think they have entered into whole new territory here.

This three-way match, UCW-Wrestling's first, features a lot of lucha-style clowning around, what with Joker's typical badgering of his opponents--harping on Dragon's green-card status and still whining over an earlier match lost (or, if you believe him, not lost) to quiet, methodical James.

Black Dragon catches an early lead by pitting the two Americans against each other--dividing and conquering--and then walloping one while the other is busy catching his breath.

How long does it take Joker and James to team up and, through cooperation, take down this ambiguously foreign masked man?  Pretty much as long as it takes Dragon to get overly confident in his ability to outsmart two of UCW's wiliest competitors.  Which is to say, "Not long at all."

Then a new question emerges:  How long until the Americans' egos tear them apart again?  Each claims responsibility for taking the foreigner down, and in no time they are fighting each other over which one gets to dish up the squashing that Dragon has coming to him, at which point the match turns into a pissing contest--to the tune of "Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better."  You can probably guess where the action goes from there.

Or maybe not.

Early in the match, Joker grabs James's head to his shoulder and turns to the audience in TV-land and says, "This is how you treat a bitch.  This. Is. How. You. Treat. A. Bitch.  Y'grab'm like this.  Y'grab'm like this. Okaaay? And then you drop to your knees like this."  Then as James groans in agony, every bone in his vertebrae jangling, Joker shows off his muscles to the camera--and, trust me, you've seen bigger bulges on the dried bubblegum under church pews.  Your appreciation for moments like this will depend entirely on how much Joker's usual antics crack you up.  I was laughing my ass off and holding my nuts through a good one-third of this match, which lasts a full 45 minutes!

This fight has all the energy and bounce of the bedroom roughhousing of boys half the age of these guys.  That's not at all a bad thing, mind you.  It's a blast, in fact.  A man would have to have no soul at all not to want to kick off his street shoes, grab a pillow, and leap into the pile-on in the center of the mat, taking and giving licks with dumb, reckless abandon.

But this fight takes such roughhousing up to a wholly different level.  "Surreal" is a word that comes to mind.

But nothing is going to prepare you for the rest of this match.

James, who, along with Dragon, is a fight trainer at UCW, gets to shine in this free-for-all.  James has always been kind of UCW's quiet Beatle, "George," to Axel's "Paul," Klown's "John," and Joker's "Ringo," but he really gets to strut his stuff against Joker and Dragon here.  Handsome hairy James regularly and gamely takes it on himself to try to battle both opponents at the same time.  A failed but oh-so-close attempt to pin the two simultaneously is something you just gotta see for yourself.  And, given the firepower the two direct back at him, you certainly come to understand why he's been dubbed the "Never Give Up Kid."

Black Dragon impresses, as well.  His comically sinister chuckling--not exactly mwa-hah-hah-hah, but pretty damned close to it, establishes him as the baddest of the bad guys here, though probably more in a league with Snidely Whiplash than The Undertaker.  Here's another fighter I have been underestimating all these months.  The guy has moxie, and he pulls off some ridiculously over-the-top moves with panache and sells the realness of several equally ridiculous wrestling holds you're unlikely to see anywhere else this side of a Bugs Bunny cartoon.

But it is Joker, again, who steals my heart.  How can I deny a guy who's willing to use his own tucked-in-pink-lycra nads as a maul--and then look genuinely surprised at how much it hurts to do this!  Chee-rist, this guy is all carbonated, fruit-flavored testosterone and no ... fucking ... brain ... at all!  Minutes later he knocks himself out headbutting James; then shaking the cobwebs out of his head, he deadpans to the camera, "Not one of my brighter ideas."

No shit, Robert Downey Jr.

Some choppy editing here and there hurts the fight's continuity, but the action proceeds at a brisk and entertaining pace.  It's almost as if Bodyslam and the guys decided to get together, roughhouse, and put on a show for the camera, knowing nobody's ever going to believe this, much less take it seriously.  These guys have definitely been sniffing glue while watching Saturday morning cartoons, after spending all night watching Japanese puroresu--and you can't help but love and kinda envy the three wrestlers for throwing themselves into this slapstick slaparama heart and soul.

If you, like me, think you might actually enjoy watching a three-layered sleeperhold, a cross-and-cover pin attempted on one guy while applying a figure-four leglock on another, a grown man screaming at the top of his lungs for his mommy, and two or three wrestling holds that look like simulated anal penetration, then this is definitely the match for you.

P.S., in case I haven't made myself perfectly clear, you have never seen anything like this!

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Hudson Taylor

Outsports has an article on Hudson Taylor, University of Maryland wrestler and gay rights supporter.  Read it.

Sneak Peak

As I write this, the complete videos are not available for download, but UCW-Wrestling is leaking clips of upcoming matches on YouTube--and the urgent news of the moment is that Klown has reconciled himself to skimpy gear.


Klown, who always possessed a calm and tentative sort of studliness, seems easily twice the man now in his new electric-lime-green briefs, clinging to every curve and bulge of his midsection.  Clothes do make the man, and gear does make the wrestler.  If these clips are any indication, brighter, scantier togs bring up (and out) the man that's always lurked behind Klown's quiet, boyish exterior.

If Speedo comes, can thongs be far behind?

And if Klown ever realizes his inner Tarzan, watch out Axel!  watch out Joker!  watch out UCW!

Rhett Titus

This guy, I figure, is not to everybody's taste.  I can understand why, I suppose.

But he fits my taste ... to a T.

First, he's got the rowdy nose and cheekbones that usually catch my eye--and the long Tarzan hair meshes seamlessly to a whole other category of my kink fantasies.  He is loudmouthed, funny, uncouth, violent, assholish, and brazenly and aggressively sexual in the ring.

The wonder is, is that I have not yet jerked off to this guy, and the time has come, I think, when I have to stop and look myself in the mirror and ask why.

Clearly I am without excuse and must mend my ways.

Rhett Titus, 22, 6'2" (yeah, I like em tall too), 203#, has wrestled professionally for the past four years--most prominently for Ring of Honor and Full Impact Pro.  If his stats didn't match my wish list perfectly enough, he's also from New Jersey--and, well, you just have to understand what Jersey boys do for me--especially if they're Irish, Italian, or Jewish--which I don't know if Titus is any of those, but ... I don't know ... forget it ... I digress.

If it weren't for the fact that he's apparently straight--and a straight guy who lists "The Holy Bible" as one of his favorite reads--I would be rethinking my atheism, convinced that God must have created this guy just for me, and pondering whether he (Titus, not God) is into somewhat shorter guys well over twice his age.

At any rate, gentlemen, it's time for me to face up to a clear-cut set of responsibilities I have been shirking for too long now and reach for the lube.

His Old Adversary

March 23, 1976:  Bobby Ryan versus the great cry-baby heel of British wrestling Jim Breaks, World of Sport (via tellumyort)

Monday, February 22, 2010


George Kidd (1925-1998), 5'6", 133#, making somebody (?) awfully uncomfortable.  (Stolen from The Wrestling Furnace Picture Gallery)



See the visitor comments below about the labeling of the picture above.  Meanwhile, check out these pics of the late great lightweight champ Kidd (from the same source as above):


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