Saturday, April 30, 2011

April Rankings, 2011

  1. United States (57%)
  2. United Kingdom (11%)
  3. Canada (7%)
  4. Australia (3%)
  5. Germany (3%)
  6. France (2%)
  7. Japan (2%)
  8. Spain (2%)
  9. Italy (1%)
  10. Netherlands (1%)
Eighty-one countries claim the remaining 11% of over 450,000 pageviews in April (according to Google Analytics).

Deal With It



You can view Luke Robinson's audition tape for the new season of WWE's Tough Enough (on USA Network) here.  He wants to be a worldwide superstar and the definition of wrestling.  He wants to rub his classmates' noses in his dream's fulfillment at his ten-year high-school reunion.  The clip of 13-year-old Luke posing off for the video camera shatters my previous stance on hebephilia.  But it's nothing compared to Luke today at 26, 6'1", 210#.  Perfection.

Friday, April 29, 2011

Argh!





I have ventured a little further into Bulldog Wrestling UK.  I figured Battling Bulldogs 3 would be a safe bet, especially the match-up of Mike Martin, 5'7", 150#, in blue and gold, versus Marcelo, 5'8", 154#, in red.  It's a fight I have imagined many times, based only on these stills, but never till now seen in motion.  It does not disappoint.  Both wrestlers like to sweat, and their moves here remind me of the speeded-up grappling in old Tarzan movies--jerky, quick, lethal stabs of animal aggression.  They favor long, strenuous, hurtful holds, and neither is quick to tap out--so there's plenty to savor here if, like me, you relish skin sliding against skin and muscle forcing muscle to flinch, shudder, and buck.

I can't put my finger on it, but my Tarzan reference gets as close as I can get to expressing this particular kink for me.  It's the rhythm of high speed assaults interspersed with almost static tight squeezes, the taut bellies heaving in and out as the wrestlers gulp down air to withstand seemingly endless doses of pain.  It's two men recklessly hurling themselves into each other, like shark on sea lion.  It's the feverish knotting up of muscle, tendon, and bone, causing the larynx to squeak involuntarily.  It helps, too, that the two men know exactly what they are doing, they know the crippling moves, and they know (and test) how far the human body is able to bend.

(Little known etymological fact:  Our word "argh," mostly used as an interjection, derives from the Old Norse adjective "argr," meaning unmanly or homosexual--from which another derivative is the modern word "eerie.")

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Protect and Serve


Chicago wrestler Jason Hades, 24, 5'8", 185#, who wrestled most recently with Dreamwave Wrestling and Chicago Style Wrestling, retires this month from professional wrestling to pursue a career in law enforcement.  For the past two years, he has ranked as one of my favorite three wrestlers, more often than not in the #1 position--just count the number of posts devoted to him.  Last year's PWI500 listed him in the 201st position in the world.  A talented heel and babyface, he was a tough and reckless wrestler, with sparkling eyes, high cheekbones, thin lips perpetually in a porpoise smile.  Good luck to you, Jason, if you happen to read this post.  I'll miss you in the ring.  Sad to say, pro wrestling just will not be the same for me now.

Venus as a Boy


Johnny Olson, 5'8", 160#, was one of BG Enterprise's prettiest muscle-boy wrestlers.  With Davy De Angelo (aka Clayton Titus) as his partner in the ring, he faced no less a challenge than the tag team of Kid Leopard and Kid Vicious.  Solo, he fought Jungle Stud and Corby Banning.  It is his fight against Banning that's my favorite.  Olson had a torso of prepubescent silkiness, yet solid, on strong hairy legs that offset his boyish face and the bounce of his hair.  In some of the posed stills, Olson has the offhand grace and stateliness of Botticelli's Venus (but as retouched by Tom of Finland), perfectly at ease while surfing on a half-shell.  In Young Musclestuds 5, Banning outweighed and outfought him, but Olson put up a good (though futile) defense.  If his godlike physique were not enough, Olson knew how to groan, gag, gurgle, and grunt.  He was a model cute jobber, one from whom some of the new mat eaters might learn a thing or two. 

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Wait for It







Jumped before he was ready to fight at Sunday's WC-WC show in Salem, Oregon, Ryan Taylor--those thighs! those butt cheeks! those magnificent arms!--must first tame his mad-dog foe before he can take a moment to slo-o-owly peel off his shirt--those shoulders! that chest! those splendiferous abs!--and wipe up the floor with the eager heel's ass and teach that bad boy a little impulse control.   These photos are by Jarrod Miller.

Getting His







Six more pictures from NewPro's Lads of the Ring 20--my favorite of the matches on this overall fine upcoming release:  the "Guvnor" Martin Stone, 6'0", 240#, punishes Aussie heel Steve Morley, 6'2", 210#, for exceeding the limits on "cheap heat" ... and for, well, Vegemite.  This IPW:UK match was held in October of last year.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Wishbone



Let's say I just released a 3000-year-old djinn from a bottle and was granted one wish, but, in exchange for the one wish, I had to switch bodies with a wrestler--any wrestler of my choice--for forty days and forty nights.  

First off, whom would I pick?  Let it go without saying that I would choose to enter the body of a heel (read that however you like).  What you might not know is I would pick somebody brawny and arrogant--I would say about my height, six-feet-even, give or take an inch (in height, in height), but heavier:  200 pounds or so, solid pounds, but not ripped--some flesh to grab hold of, in other words.  

Now let's say the djinn insists I must decide immediately.  So keep in mind that if I waited a month or a week or even just a day to decide, my choice might be somewhat different.  But if I had to choose right now, this very minute, my pick would be the "Ideal Reflection" Christopher Ryseck, 28, 5'11", 201#.  

I like the man's attitude, I like the man's build, and I like the horndog look on his face.  As far as I'm concerned, the man hits all the marks--vain, cocky, hard, cowardly, sneaky, and hated.  With a face, body, and swagger like this, I'd hit the road and challenge the likes of Big Sexy, Trent Blayze, John Morrison, Jason Hades, Roderick Strong, Luke Robinson, Lane Vasser, Patrick Bentley, Chris Andrews, Pepper Parks, Andrew Davis, and Seth Rollins.  (My head swims with the possibilities.)  Two matches, if not more, a day.  

I'd top it off by demanding a rematch with Ryseck's nemesis Bryan "Super Chico" Alvarez, 35, 5'7", 170#, seen here fighting Ryseck in a loser-leaves-town match for Tulalip Championship Wrestling last July.  

And, then, what would my wish be?  Well, assuming "unlimited wishes" is off the table, I'd have to go with forty more days and forty more nights as the wrestling heel of my choice.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Terry Frazier





Among the many many pleasures of Kid Leopard's NewPro video series is the joy of getting a clean, unobstructed look at independent wrestlers with whom I've been fascinated for years, based only on murky videos of their matches on YouTube, shot shakily (7.1 on the Richter scale) by friends and fans using nothing better than (apparently) smart phones.  For years I have yearned for clear, steady, well-lit video of Terry Frazier, 6'2", 182#, in action in the ring, and at long last NewPro's Lads of the Ring 20 gives me just that, in a hot match pitting the long, lean, and devastatingly handsome Frazier (who I once suggested for the lead in an all-wrestling James Bond movie) against black-geared cromag James Dahmer, 6'1", 238#.  Until now, I've had to satisfy myself (read that however you like) with a still shot of Frazier in a pencil-thin bikini on vacation in Thailand, head shaved and kneeling in the sand on a beach straight out of an Alex Garland thriller.

The soon-to-be-released LotR20 gives us Frazier at his most charming (both in this match, and as a key contestant in the final gimmicks match, a more modest version of WWE's Royal Rumbles).  He banters with the crowd, makes a kid's day by swiping the boy's white hat off his head and wearing it to the ring, and then calls for applause for the hat at the end of the match.  What looks like a squash job at the beginning, as the broad and bulky Dahmer pounds the living daylights out of the slender babyface, reverses direction as the vocal fans rally behind Frazier.  There's no doubt about it--Frazier has the prettiest mug in the business, more than compensating for his rangy (well, bony, really) body--a body, however, that has a dancer's grace.  I prefer his skinhead heel days, to be honest, but Frazier's winning smile makes him equally effective as a heart-melting hero.  (Frazier's longtime tag partner, Sha Samuels, wrestles next on the bill, happily with unabated villainy.)

Another pleasure of the NewPro releases is the occasional discovery of previously unknown talent.  Boyish Fred Phillips makes a sweet (and doomed) debut against Samuels.  Then there's Darrell Amrah, a dangerous-looking bad boy, whom the kids in the crowd seem especially to enjoy despising.  Young and way-cooler-than-you Jimmy Havoc makes short work of Amrah--in a highly satisfying good-guy-versus-bad-guy clash between two young equals.  My favorite match here (all apologies to Frazier) pits crowd favorite Martin Stone against cowardly Australian heel Steve Morley (who seems to have found the peroxide bottle Dolph Ziggler recently tossed out).  I hate the longwinded speeches before the battle starts, but the drama percolates when the mike is finally put away.  Morley gets a rich and luscious beatdown that's satisfying to the core.  Some guys have the gift for heeldom, and Morley definitely fits the bill--and Stone is hot too as the no-nonsense meter out of justice.

Luke Robinson





You know him by other names, no doubt, but Luke Robinson is favorited by many to win the newly revived Tough Enough this year.  I hope that being named an early favorite is not the kiss of death for him.  It can't hurt that Stone Cold Steve Austin has taken Robinson personally under his wing.  Three bits of advice for the 26 year old:  stay shiny, wear shiny, never forget your gay fans.  Paparazzo recently published these pictures of Robinson from an NWA on Fire show in Maine, back in October, 2010.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Randy Page









Randy Page was a hot, well built wrestler who dominated and submitted practically everybody who ever stepped into the ring with him, half of whom were, under ordinary circumstances, hotter than he and better built.

If Randy competed in a beauty contest with everybody he ever wrestled, he probably would have ranked (wild guess) at number 7 or 8.  But if the judges had watched him in action on a mat, he would have ranked first--no question--with the man in the number 2 spot trailing far behind.  

Randy Page is my primary evidence that you don't need the prettiest face or the most ripped abs or a gimmick to be "sexy (or just sexier) under the influence of wrestling"--that peculiar condition, known only to me and a few die-hard wrestling fans, whereby a guy you wouldn't give a second look to in a GQ magazine or in your favorite night spot, becomes a god when he gets into a fight.  Just the nerve it takes to strip down and crawl into a ring or a cage or onto a mat is a powerful aphrodisiac for me.

I don't think it can even be said that, when he wrestled adonises like Vinnie Marino (unmistakably godlike) or pouty blond Wayne Carpenter, he did a particularly good job of showing off the opponents' impeccable pecs and abs.  He didn't play to the camera.  He was too busy squeezing submission after submission out of every man with the balls to crawl into the ring with him.  However ornate and exquisite the goldfish anybody dropped into the bowl with him, this piranha chomped right through them.  

You can count the words spoken in a typical Page match, before, during, and after, on your fingers.  Plenty of panting, lots of gasps, the thump of flesh and bone hitting the floor, but very few words.  Sometimes I had to wonder whether the man had the power of speech.  I know full well he did, but nobody was as eloquent as he at whoopass.   Talk about "poetry in motion."  Nobody who wrestled him had to "sell" any of Randy's moves.  If, at the end of a match, an opponent walked out of the ring on his own two feet, he was doing better than could be expected.

From his three-way match in 1984's Like a Horse, which converted a lot of gay men to wrestling, Page moved on to star in two certifiable BG classics:  Hollywood Muscleboy Wrestling 2 and Young Musclestuds Wrestling 1.  If you are not already acquainted with these gems, get them, watch them, and weep.

So voracious was Page's appetite for dominating other men in skimpy trunks, so efficient was he in dismantling bodybuilders piece by piece, so aggressive and fearless in fighting men heavier, more pumped up, and even meaner than he that he was the wrestler I most wanted to fuck for a giant chunk of the 1980s.  Nobody else came close.

"Sexy under the influence of wrestling" requires no special grooming, no plastic surgery, no spray-on tan, no posing, no particular body shape, just a reckless opening assault, knowledge of human anatomy and how to use that knowledge in a fight, followed up with speed, agility, and buckets of sweat.  

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Starship Pain


Wanted to share these shots of John Morrison and Dolph Ziggler squaring off at a WWE Raw show in Glasgow ten days ago.  If two wrestlers look exactly like their PlayStation simulations (and, yes, I do realize how postmodern I just sounded), it must be these two.  But real or hyperreal, they sure look hot to me.  Morrison won.  Of course.

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