Derrick Cole vs Kevin Lin, #457 (UCW)
I wish somebody had taken a photo of me while I was watching this match. I must have looked crazed. I feel half-crazed even now, and it's been over an hour since I watched it. You already know I love me some Derrick Cole. Who doesn't, right? He's it, the culmination of everything UCW has ever stood for--or accidentally stepped in--over the past seven years, the one true messiah of the cinder-block arena. In his third and latest, the tattooed wild man takes on handsome newcomer Kevin Lin, who, it turns out, is as tough as he is pretty. Cole in a give and take battle against a well-matched and well-prepared opponent? I am so on that. And it does not disappoint.
No time is wasted on conversation. The bell sounds, and Derrick and Kevin lock up. A palm to the side of the newcomer's face shoves him down to the mat, but he springs right back. Cole literally pounds his chest like a gorilla, ready to brawl. Collar and elbow again, as Derrick growls. He backs Lin to the wall and throws a few gut punches before snaring the guy's head in a side lock, making guttural sound effects to underscore his brutishness. Both these guys have got some tough meat on their bones, so the jabs have some substance to them. I cum a tiny bit every time Derrick brandishes his tongue through his shiny lips, relishing his absolute sway over Kevin.
Well, not "absolute." Kevin gets an arm lock on Derrick and uses it to drive him face first to the floor. Everything but Derrick's vocal cords is paralyzed by the hold. Kevin reclines against Cole's back, holding the crimped wrist at crotch level. Lin is built like a statue of Antinous, smooth powerful bulges that connote both power and sensuality. He rolls Derrick onto his back and prepares to split the heel's thighs out wide, but he makes the rookie mistake of pausing for effect, and Cole bitch-slaps him hard enough to send him spinning to the mat. The heel then snap-mares the rookie, stomping on him for good measure, with a toe-kick between the thighs that cracks the newby's nuts, repaying the assault that Kevin never got around to completing.
Has it really been one whole paragraph since I last said how much I love Derrick Cole? In him every heel I've ever seriously pined for--Roderick Strong, Lane Hartley, Eli Black, Rusty Stevens, Nathan Cruze, Marco, Guido Genatto, and on and on--is reflected. It's some something he and they have that a still camera never succeeds in capturing. It's more an energy than a physical feature, and it's a distinctly masculine energy, both cruel and lighthearted, vain and expansive, savage and grandiose, boyish and manly.
Lin and Derrick together put their individual stamps on UCW favorites: crotch-to-face pins, emasculating slurs, surfboard stretches, drawn-out full nelsons, ball-wringers, butt-to-butt crab holds, rear naked chokes, and slug-outs, each one warmly familiar and bracingly reinvented to suit the wrestlers' individual styles. By the time, we arrive at the climactic pinfall-slash-knockout (which is it?), we realize that both wrestlers have the same agenda: to make it big in the company and to someday, perhaps someday soon, go after the championship belt.
A week or so ago on Facebook, Axel, UCW co-boss and current holder of the belt, surveyed fans to find out who wants to see Cole pitted against veteran heel, his nastiness Quinn Harper. The consensus, in a nutsack, was hell-the-fuck-yes. And respondents couldn't stop themselves from sweetening the pot by imagining elaborate improvisations on the proposed heel-on-heel contest. I'm for it too, but I want the company to build up to it, take some time on it over the next few months, and serve up more tasty morsels like Lin to measure the excess poundage of Derrick's beautiful wickedness.