The Ten-Minute Headlock
The fans at ringside call it "the ten-minute headlock," but I clock it at just under six and a half minutes. Let's not split hairs. It's a fucking long headlock, and I couldn't be a happier man. Perhaps the perfect struggle between man and man, I have just now decided, is the struggle to free oneself from the world's steeliest headlock, which evidently belongs to Oliver John's mighty left arm. Timothy Thatcher, 6'3", 224#, tries all the textbook escape tactics to squirm, thrust, and slam his way out, but he does not get loose until John, 6', 224#, pretty much decides it's time to let go.
Eli sent me the link to this match from last year's All Pro Wrestling Gym Wars, for which gift I owe him big. This match occurred a few months before the epic Sacramento Wrestling Federation battle between the same two wrestlers I slobbered over a little over a year ago. These two are classic wrestlers' wrestlers, with Oliver well dubbed as "Old School" Oliver John and Timothy, the "British Messiah" (only half wrong, since this Messiah hails from California).
In heaven (or my present idea of heaven) I'll be Oliver in this match on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and Timothy in this match on Mondays, Wednesday, and Fridays. (On Sundays I'll be in a 12-man pileup with Tyler Black, Lane Hartley, Big Sexy, Alexi Adamov, Sami Zayn, Brett Mycles, Kevin Von Erich, Jason Adonis, Tristan Archer, Rick Rude, and Paul Perris. Praise be!)