Private Jack Marino, 5'4", 135#, in a ball-snagging, back-snapping scrap with Tyson "The Hammer," 6'2", 160#--what's not to love? Consult your psychic reader if you want to know who wins and who loses this one, because my lips are sealed. This battle goes back and forth for the duration, the two men matched in guts and backbone, even if worlds apart in size.
Without introduction or fanfare, Private Jack says, "All right, let's start this match" and charges in, my kind of intro, but Tyson pushes him away like a pesky pup. Nobody wastes a second of this match, so you can be sure of your whole 30 minutes' worth of fight without commercial interruption. And when it's over--smack! pow! ow!--it over! Roll credits! Finis.
At first Tyson lords his height and weight advantage over Marino till the hot young Marine swoops in low and literally pulls the feet from under the big guy. Then Jack wastes not a second in twisting those long, sinewy legs up till The Hammer's heels are planted against his butt.
Tyson moans and groans, but he doesn't submit. He reaches back and slaps Jack on the hip, and Jack smacks him in return, then pinches his ears back, then hooks his fingers into the man's nostrils to reel his head back like he's hauling in a blue marlin.
The match [#303] has all the grit and cheap shots you've come to expect at UCW-Wrestling. More than that, it's a showcase for Tyson and Private Jack, two too-seldom-seen fighters on the roster. Jack's obviously determined to shrug off his humiliating months of servitude as Eli Black's portable lackey. Tyson's equally determined to keep the kid humble--and in all kinds of pain--until a sudden, devastating bodyslam crosses the final t of somebody's defeat.