Red Meat

It takes Pascal, in the dark trunks, ten minutes to submit Ronald, the smooth guy in red, three times. This is the second of the six W-and-L battles that our friend Mikey recommended to me last month. It's heavier, more ferocious action than the first, which I reviewed at the beginning of the month.

Pascal is the hairier and darker of the two, with brooding eyes and a long Gallic nose, straight enough to use as a bevel. Ronald, his challenger, would have looked right at home as one of the crew of the Argos in Jason and the Argonauts--smooth, well-defined muscle, with the confident, self-satisfied face of a charming rogue.

Both wrestlers embody that iron-muscled masculinity that inspires the same awe in me as a skyscraper  or a suspension bridge ... or Devils Tower in Wyoming. To watch the two of them collide and twist around each other is enticing and intimidating at the same time.

Just as I was thinking the match was a done deal after the first ten minutes, Ronald returns the favor, three howling submissions ... in FIVE minutes. It's a tough and volatile fight, the wrestlers stopping just short of gouging each other's eyes out, yet maintaining the spirit of sportsmanlike competition.

The next seven minutes are the most savage. After the seventh fall, both iron men are teetering like colossal statues in an earthquake. Quite impressive athletic drama, which Mikey characterized as "a brutal, frustrating, and sweaty time of it," which is all I needed to hear.


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