Hitchcock Presents
Quinton "Drop-Back" Hitchcock looks like he stands about even in stature with his mentor and trainer Dory Funk Jr., so my guess is he stands a good 6'2" tall. And I mean good, because Hitchcock has everything in right proportions from head to toe. A promising trainee at Funking Conservatory Wrestling School, "Q" (as the crowd calls him) is the current world champion at the school-sponsored !Bang! TV show on YouTube, but he still looks wet behind the ears to me--and all the more likable because of it. So, unsurprisingly, he's a popular champ, plainly evident in this recent match against the more seasoned pro Wes Brisco.
Lately, I've been stuck on this type of wrestler--big, brawny, butch-cut kids with pasty white skin and shoulders like the front of a '57 Cadillac, thighs like tree trunks. Wide-eyed yet square-jawed. Weak on charisma, but strong on visual impact. Stalwart, well scrubbed, but a little slow. A gentle giant who probably doesn't know his own strength. It's one of my top babyface archetypes--among several I veer between--and I don't know why, really, but big likable lugs are kind of my thing.
Wes, son of Jerry and nephew of the late Jack Brisco, is a formidable challenger to the kid's title. Need I add that he's hot--"Work that open black vest, Wes!" Sadly for me, who prefers closure, this 10-minute match times out with a draw, saving face for both wrestlers and saving the belt for strapping young Q. Along the way, we get some drama--the incapacitated-ref angle and a suspenseful grasping for the ropes (which, for a while there, look like the champ's best hope against his wilier and more brutal opponent). In the end, Dory pops in to offer encouraging words to Q and coax him and Wes into a sportsmanlike post-event handshake.
Lately, I've been stuck on this type of wrestler--big, brawny, butch-cut kids with pasty white skin and shoulders like the front of a '57 Cadillac, thighs like tree trunks. Wide-eyed yet square-jawed. Weak on charisma, but strong on visual impact. Stalwart, well scrubbed, but a little slow. A gentle giant who probably doesn't know his own strength. It's one of my top babyface archetypes--among several I veer between--and I don't know why, really, but big likable lugs are kind of my thing.
Wes, son of Jerry and nephew of the late Jack Brisco, is a formidable challenger to the kid's title. Need I add that he's hot--"Work that open black vest, Wes!" Sadly for me, who prefers closure, this 10-minute match times out with a draw, saving face for both wrestlers and saving the belt for strapping young Q. Along the way, we get some drama--the incapacitated-ref angle and a suspenseful grasping for the ropes (which, for a while there, look like the champ's best hope against his wilier and more brutal opponent). In the end, Dory pops in to offer encouraging words to Q and coax him and Wes into a sportsmanlike post-event handshake.
Joe, you've captured Hitchcock's appeal to so many of us: Self-consciously erotic wrestlers are hot, to be sure, but there's something about a jock who realizes he's ripped, but probably doesn't realize the scope of his fan-base, gender-wise. Big dimples, including those peeking through the sides of skimpy pro trunks, go well with big muscles.
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