I do get why some wrestlers and wrestling fans resent this blog and other blogs like it, so open and direct about our homoerotic responses to the sport and its athletes. What ever happened to "good clean fun"? Why "ruin" a perfectly wholesome pastime with talk of sex?
I don't agree with the assumptions under these rhetorical questions--that sex is dirty, that eroticism always has to be about penetration, that only "mixed" wrestling is sexy--but I, too, sometimes miss the sweet, naive, and now long-gone pleasures of stripping down to skivvies to wrestle my buddies, away from prying eyes and girlfriends who just didn't get the bond between regular guys who play rough with each other.
Naturally, boners raised the specter of homo sex, back in my mistakenly straight-identified youth, but easy rationalizations chased the specter away, and some of my pals saw no harm even in spilling a little seed now and then.
I'm a huge fan of fucking, of course, but the truth is that, if I could relive my life, but with only one and not the other, I would choose wrestling over fucking. I know: weird, huh? I'm a huge fan of porned-up wrestling videos too, in which the loser's ass literally belongs to the victor. But even though I don't embrace all aspects of wrestling sport and spectacle, I do embrace almost all of them.
It's a good thing that venues like Movimus still offer honest, athletic mat wrestling, with no noisy fans or onlookers to drown out the sounds of athletes huffing and puffing against each other, smooth skin slapping smooth skin, and the squeak of bare elbows and heels on a wrestling mat. Plus the company has the good sense to put its lean-muscled fighters into skimpy, bulge-hugging gear.
Its latest release features two fighters who physically remind me of college pals, strapping youths with strong thighs and broad shoulders and light-colored skin conducive to blotchy pink handprints. Curly-haired nineteen-year-old Don Cooper, 6'2", 185#, challenges NHB-Battle veteran Connor Flynn, 26, 6'1", 187#. Connor is the more experienced and aggressive of the two, as you might expect, but Don likes stiff competition and won't take a rookie dive just to satisfy fans' expectations or to kowtow to Connor's sense of entitlement.
Coop dives right in, with obvious, transparent maneuvers like chokes and variations on the schoolboy pin, sexy and dramatic, but relatively ineffective against the veteran. At one point the rookie gets a scissorhold on Connor's head. He presumptuously demands a submission, but Connor tells him there's "no pressure" in Coop's legs and soon escapes. Then Flynn slaps on a bodyscissors to give the boy a taste of the pain steel-belted thighs can render on mortal flesh. The cagey Connor wears his opponent down to a nub with hardly noticeable twists to the wrist and ankle. It takes Connor five minutes to bend a submission out of his upstart challenger, much to the youngster's dismay.
I love the way the 20-minute bout escalates in intensity, beginning right around the halfway point, after the second fall. Coop is a fast learner. He discovers--perhaps too late--ways to subdue his more experienced adversary. It may be my imagination, but Connor looks like he wants nothing more than to close this match with a clean knockout. Again and again he climbs behind his opponent for a rear choke--sometimes the slipperiness of sweaty skin enables Don's escape, at least once Don taps out--but something seems to have triggered Connor's temper and the veteran looks intent on ending this battle on less than friendly terms.
Eleven months ago I wasn't sure what to expect of Movimus. I would have been happy had it been just a fire sale for precious gems reclaimed from NHB-Battle's ashes. What it has become, instead, is a happy surprise: a two-fisted player in the video wrestling game, nobody else's pale imitation, with product and style that stand tall beside its competitors', pushing the art and business of homoerotic wrestling in a bold and confident direction, while preserving NHB's valuable legacy.