Voluptuous bad-ass Tyler Colton swaggers to the ring, popping biceps and picking on a little girl in the front row. Danny Duggan will have none of that, and from here the two wrestlers' savvy ring improvisations work some magic, in this case having to incorporate a busted turnbuckle and a botched three-count into the act. The match is from Elite Wrestling Initiative in North Dakota, almost three years ago. The video is not equal to the action, a two-camera operation, with focus and zoom often working at odds with the cameramen's intentions. Still, enough of the match comes through to steam-clean my chinos.
Both Colton and Duggan impress. Tyler is a wild-eyed Viking hunk, brimming with attitude and ill intent. Danny is the high-minded righter of wrongs and instrument of comeuppance. The crowd loves him. Admirers of wrestlers that pack some bulk or blond-versus-blond action will warm to this fight, as I do. I have nothing against slim wrestlers with their pronounced eight-packs and mosquito BMIs, zipping around the ring as if weightless. But I have a slight preference for heft and gravity, muscle with some sag and bounce to it, calves two-thirds the circumference of the accompanying thighs, bodies that make the whole ring go boom when they hit the canvas.
I can think of few things less Christmassy than pro wrestling, but I'm happy that regional promotions across the globe throw sweat and clobber parties at this time of year. Bing Crosby, Baby Jesus, and candy canes would be out of place here. But who cares? If I had a chimney, I'd want the Blue-Eyed Idol and Hotshot Danny to come sliding down it, all sweaty and ready to brawl.