Wrestling Angel

Who hasn't dreamed this?  You're a buff tatted-up young turk at the gym, and you cannot keep your eyes off this really stacked muscle god working the free weights, a man bigger than you by about a third your size.  Without his shirt on, the guy looks like Hercules--or the way you always dreamed that Hercules would look.  You shower.  You go home.  The crap on TV is putting you to sleep.  Then, knock knock knock at the door.  Lo and behold the muscle god has followed you home ... and he's pissed about your ogling at him at the gym ... and he wants to fight you ... in your empty two-car garage ... and he's Ace Hanson!

This is where I usually wake up from the dream, cursing and wiping the drool off my lip.  But after our interview on this blog a month ago, I am thisclose with Mr. Mike of Thunder's Arena, and Ace is now practically family.  So I'm watching this little gem to the finish, savoring every thump and grunt.  And while I am not the biggest fan of squash jobs--in which there's one guy who doesn't stand a chance against the other--I have to admit that this match between Hanson, 6'0", 220#, and Angel, 5'5", 135#, wins me over and pretty well stands as a classic of the form.

It's a custom-built video (Thunder's first ever, scripted and cast by a fan ... no, not me), and it could serve as Exhibit A in the courtroom drama of what sick fucks we wrestling fans can be.  Not for a second do you buy that Angel can take Ace, there's even a question of whether he can survive the fight, but it is fun to watch the big guy dismantle the little guy piece by piece, first by chopping off his pride and then by squeezing out his will with his bare hands.  Ace has got as much muscle in his buns of steel as poor Angel has in his whole well-built but compact body.  Angel is pretty much a "travel-size" opponent for Ace, easily packed and stowed in the overflow bin till Ace needs somebody to smash to smithereens.  I'll say this much for Angel:  he's a tough bastard, and he takes his licking like a man.

This is a juicy little masterpiece.  Like all Thunder's Arena product, it stays safely on the G side of a PG rating, but its pleasures rest as much in seeing Angel's heavenly torso stretched out in a light coating of sweat and shown off to the camera as in catching your breath every time Ace Hanson's beauteous massiveness rises like a tropical thunderhead or a radioactive Japanese lizard to fill the screen.


  1. OK, let me preface this by saying I like your blog. I check it pretty much every day and like the posts that match my own tastes and, especially, the ones that don't. After all, I know what I think, so it's nice to read analysis of wrestling matches from a gay perspective that makes me think or reconsider. That said, I'm going to be a little critical.

    If you're going to gush about a match that is a squash job when you're not a big fan of the genre, how can you ignore other matches featuring wrestlers who've specialized and consistently delivered the most popular examples of that match? Names like Brad Rochelle, Justin Pierce, Troy Baker and, currently, Rio Garza at BGE would be at the top of any squash job lover's list. So many of your posts are focused on indy wrestling and particularly note things like "quality" of wrestling action and seeming engagement by the wrestlers. The biggest knock against any wrestler who gets squashed consistently is that he often doesn't seem particularly talented or engaged. But by even the most critical standards, the worst match from someone like Troy Baker vastly exceeds the quality and execution of any one match at Thunder's.

    I'm not anti-Thunder's Arena or something. I've bought more than a few of their tapes, notably most of Z-man's matches and, recently, Coupe (considering Coupe's looks and the response he's gotten, I have to say though that I'm stunned they aren't pushing him, apparently at all). But I have to say, the grounding of this match in the "story" that a guy simply looks at another guy in the gym and gets beat up for it turns me off. I get that fantasy is fantasy, and it's not always nice and wholesome. But it just bugs the hell out of me that the story of a match intended to be purchased by gay customers has at it's core that the most simple and non-confrontational aspect of gay desire, just looking at a guy, means he deserves to be pummeled and punished for it. I'd be less critical if the opposite story was on tape at Thunder's, i.e., the guy getting ogled takes offense, attacks a guy, only to be beaten himself and subsequently displayed and posed as a muscular sculpture for everyone to ogle as a comeuppance. But the absence of that, especially when Thunder's own Top 10 Best-Selling list is composed almost exclusively of the hotter guy losing (like, 6 of 10 are all variations of Z-Man getting "destroyed"), isn't there, it makes me raise an eyebrow, to say the least.

  2. Point taken, JoshH, and, except on matters of personal taste, I would say we agree. If a promotion typically features matches in which guys beat up other guys just because the latter stare too hard at the former in the gym, I too would be concerned. Such is not the case here.

    My summary was too brief and probably thus misleading. To clarify and to be fair to the tone of this video, when Ace threatens Angel, he says something to the effect that he doesn't like being eyeballed at the gym and that Angel cannot hope ever to have muscle mass like his. So, arguably, Angel offends the egotistical giant more through envy than through lust.

    As for not giving equal time to other squash jobs, you have to realize that, as I pointed out, I have been relatively slow to warm up to the genre, while recognizing that its meh-ness for me is not the viewpoint of most fans. In this blog I pretty much explore just my own kinks, irregular, narrow, and fickle as they admittedly are, thrilled when others like yourself agree (when you sometimes do), but certainly feeling no compulsion to accommodate the likes and dislikes of others, apart from allowing comments like these, which I enjoy even when the expressed kinks and tastes differ from mine.

    And if, to use an analogy, I had just come upon an opera or two that caused me to reassess my past lack of appreciation for opera, I could not reasonably be expected to (all at once) change my opinion of every other opera I have seen. But I promise you this much: I will reconsider the exquisite agonies of Baker, Rochelle, et al. in light of my new (but still fairly limited) appreciation for squashes. My point has never been against the personal appeal or skill of these wrestlers, but rather in the entertainment value (for me, only me) of a strongly one-sided match.


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