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.  


  1. Interesting take on one of the forgotten icons of gay wrestling. However, I'd add that Randy Page's appeal isn't so much evidence that one doesn't have to be "pretty" to be entertaining in a wrestling context, as much as it is proof that doing a good job on a hunky/pretty "victim" can make a guy sexier than he may seem at first glance.

    It's like this: while Page vs. Vinnie Marino or Wayne Carpenter seems like a competition on the surface, the reality is they're actually working together. Wrestling opponents aren't opponents so much as they are partners in creating an alluring fantasy, one that will not only entertain in the moment but, ideally, make customers more likely to pay to see their matches in the future. It all goes back to working off the obvious assets BOTH wrestlers bring to the ring. The allure of Page wrestling and, ultimately, working over a bodybuilder like Marino or a prettyboy like Carpenter begins with the fact that Marino and Carpenter are, well, a bodybuilder with relatively big and bigger muscles and Carpenter is a blond hunk who looks like he stepped off a magazine cover. Page didn't need to talk a ton or strut his stuff or do anything beyond seeming intense, engaged and uber-focused on making both those guys suffer and suffer, well beyond the illusion of simply going for the win.

    And that's one of the things I think is a little lost these days: no one seems to "trust" that if he's in the ring with a guy who makes paying customers swoon because he's got a body worthy of a bodybuilding trophy or the latest muscle mag, he doesn't have to compete with that guy on that level. If by some rip in the time/space continuum, Page debuted today rather than 20 years ago, I suspect he'd be dressed up in some brief speedo or bikini, instructed to out-pose Rio Garza or Zman or Brad Rochelle or Alexi or Beau Hopkins, knock him out and go through the whole thing yawning and sighing and ranting about how bored he is by the whole thing. And while people will still buy that, at least to a larger extent than pretty much any other wrestling match in the same catalog, it kind of misses the point.

    Anyway, on a concluding note, I kind of think the lack of deliberate development of the hunk in the so-called "jobber" role these days is actually why you and Bard loathe guys like Garza and Zman so much. Strip those guys of their fanfare (as in omit the pre-match preening and pumping up in the gym scenes as well as a steady onslaught of match descriptions and blog posts that talk about how each is "Okay looking, but nothing special), and the ultimate result is that the heels who dominate them don't get the corresponding pop. Ironic, no?

  2. "Loathe" is not a word I use or would use regarding Garza and Z-Man. I like both guys and have said so. I like them less than their most ardent fans do--and, unlike Page, they don't seem to bring much intensity to their wrestling--but I could look at photos of them till the cows come home--and they are not my "type" (as, I have no doubt, I am not theirs). The problem may be, as you suggest, how they are usually presented in these matches--and the expectation that, regardless of whom they face and regardless of their opponent's skill level, they are probably going to lose ... and lose big. So nix on "loathe," but I get and appreciate the point you're making.

  3. The notion that Randy Page was not "pretty" is preposterous.

  4. Amen, Anonymous! I was first captured by Page's handsome face on the covers of porn packaging. The fact that he could wrestle, my secret fantasy, well that was just incredible icing on the cake. Sweet, sweet cake.

  5. Yeah, Randy Page was hot as hell, looks and body. I've seen him flex up close and talked to him; few were hotter.

  6. Mr. Page was, for me, an immediate 'buy it' flag on any video he graced. I never had much time for the blow-up dolls he routinely destroyed (and I would have to go back into the vaults to find the one match I think I recall him losing - correct me if I am wrong!)but he was a deadly combo of Celtic/whatever looks and superb, probably freestyle/folkstyle trained mat skills. And his silence was part of the appeal.



Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...