Hold Me Tight

 Is there anybody out there who does not like to watch Mark Lander wrestle?  (It's all right by me if there is.  I'm just curious.)  I'm not talking about whether you find him personally attractive or whether you think it's creepy that 57-year-old dudes like me start salivating (or something) at the mere mention of his name.  I'm talking about watching the guy on the mats, working another guy (and, sadly for them, the identities of the "other guys" almost never mattered).  Wrestling Lander, in his prime, must have been like wrestling 150 pounds of rubber bands coated in super-glue--but rubber bands in a quiet smoldering rage, rubber bands that were set on finding every way possible to rack your body with shivering pain.  I have to admit I find the spectacle fascinating.  If there were such a thing as a 24-hour Mark Lander Wrestling Channel, it would be impossible for me to do a single other thing for days, maybe months.  What amazes me is that the formula has not been more widely copied?  Simple formula really:  genuine mat wrestling with a naturally talented sadist.  No frills.  No talk, no championship belts, no ref, no music.  Just aggression distilled to its purest form.  NHB-Battle and Krushco get close to it sometimes, but their matches are about winning.  Lander never really seemed to care about winning.  Whether he would win never seemed to strike him as a question or a concern.  He would win, he seemed to take that much for granted.  In fact, he always seemed rather bored at the prospect at winning a match.  What interested him, it seems, was mastering this other guy (what's-his-name) and digging some hurt into him.

(These screen caps were taken from old, worn-out, but still electrifying videos posted recently by unionjack4226.)


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