Thursday, June 30, 2016

All Out War

Krush vs Gaz, Private Punch Down (Krushco)

In the third and most recent battle between the two, Krush gets a head-scissors submission from Gaz within four minutes. The action leading up to that first fall is fairly routine. We have seen this before, lots of grunting and squeezing and punching, but Gaz ups his game in direct response to this opening humiliation, and the punches are stiffer and meaner as the match proceeds. Three minutes later, the Czech makes a grimacing Krush tap out with a choke hold.

The super competitive wrestlers give good body contact. These are two big guys with meat on their bones, and they know a thing or two about mat grappling. At this point in their eight-month history they also know a thing or two about each other, which makes the give and take even tighter and tastier. Two seasoned wrestlers, already well acquainted with their opponent's tactics and weak spots, can wreak a lot of damage.

With a little over 23 minutes remaining, the two wrestle to two more falls, the gap between falls stretching as the wear and tear of the fight slows them down. Tempers flare as they attempt to master the other guy. They land their fists on whatever muscle group they can see and reach. Dominance is the goal, the prize being whatever our sick imaginations want it to be. For most of the time, Gaz and Krush are pressed chest to chest, belly to belly, balls to balls, rolling and grunting as limbs clutch limbs, allowing space between them only long enough to make room for more quick, lethal thrusts.

I can't get enough of Gaz and Krush together on the mat. This is a feud I'd like to see continue, each man taking and giving in turn. Each defeat fueling a passion for retribution. Muscle grinding muscle to the point of collapse.

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

The Seven Minutes (and 49 Seconds)

Vinny vs Scrappy, Mat Rats 72 (Thunders Arena)

This post's title alludes to an Irving Wallace novel I never read and you probably never heard of, but it nevertheless left an imprint on my erotic imagination. At age 16 I saw Wallace interviewed by Merv Griffin or Mike Douglas, one of those afternoon TV guys, and he talked about a fictitious pornographic novel which purports to detail with explicit exactness what goes through a woman's head in the seven minutes it takes her to achieve orgasm. That novel is at the center of an obscenity trial, which is the subject of Wallace's novel. However, it's the unreal novel in the actual novel that sticks with me.

So goes my erotic imagination. A fantasy version of a fictitious event in a work I never read. It's no wonder I'm drawn to pro wrestling, and it's no wonder that my mind so often strays from the actual action in the ring that, unlike other wrestling fans, I'm usually foggy about what transpired in any given match. It's not just that I add homoerotic scenes absent from the televised match. I don't even do that most of the time. What I do is revise the wrestling action itself, replacing individual wrestlers, changing the outcome, entering the scenario as some fantasy version of myself, exchanging closeup shots for long shots, adding sensations of touch-taste-smell to the visuals and sound, and so on.

Seven minutes and 49 seconds is the running time of Scrappy's second video for Thunders Arena. I salivated over his debut on Sunday. If you're struggling over which of Scrappy's matches to download, my recommendation is Mat Rats 71, the first one. It's longer, it has Frey in it, and it has the cachet of being first. But I no sooner say that and my mind is changed, because the shorter video has two segments that are now tattooed in memory (albeit with my usual idiosyncratic alterations): Scrappy squirming to escape Vinny's bearhug, and Scrappy squirming to escape Vinny's rear naked choke.

The debut match has far too little of Scrappy squirming. Consider Mat Rats 72 as a savory side dish that enhances the flavor of Mat Rats 71. It takes the recruit about 30 seconds to writhe and muscle his way out of Vinny's bear hug (the second bear hug, not the first, which lasts only about 5 seconds). It takes him another 30 seconds to break free of the choke hold. These two struggles are enough to explain how Scrappy got his name. He refuses to kowtow to Vinny's clear superiority in force. These holds would finish most guys. Scrappy sells the hell out of them, but he balks at the idea of letting them be the end of him.

No more than a minute of mat action stretches to ten or so minutes in my imagination. They play in slow motion in my mind, even as I type these words. Scrappy's agony is exquisite. So are the veins popping all over Vinny as he exerts every bit of power he's capable of, to no avail. Scrappy's body gyrates, his teeth bared, his eyes clenched, as if he were attempting to run a footrace with cinder blocks chained to his wrist and ankles. The frenzied press of flesh to flesh raises welts visible only in my mental reboot of the event. But it's not just my imagination that makes this video so strong. It's Scrappy and Vinny. It's all there. I'm just making slight embellishments. Fine wine requires fine grapes first of all. And there's not a thing wrong with the grapes in Mat Rats 72.

Monday, June 27, 2016

Black Is the New Black

Eli Black vs Kevin Lin, #475 (UCW)

I expected good things of this match and I got them. Kevin Lin is a rising star at UCW, in many ways cut from the same cloth as crowd favorites like Aron, Hannigan, and Marino, wrestlers whose inarticulate reticence draws my sympathy--like gentle woodland creatures these guys--but who can also take care of themselves in a fight. Like these others, Lin is incredibly resilient and tolerant of pain, pretty much a requisite for anybody stepping onto the UCW mat, especially against Black.

Now that he's added a couple hundred bucks to his haircut budget, you might think Eli Black is a changed man, but he's still the master of casual sadism and punk arrogance he's always been. Few wrestlers have Black's instincts for playing with pain, like playing with finger paints or Legos. Nobody can make 'em squirm like Eli. I keep half-hoping some stud will step up and tear this jerk a new asshole, but he's so damn good at what he does that I find myself cheering for him, against all reason and morality.

In the prematch let's-get-acquainted moment, Black exhibits his inability to hold his tongue or to filter ideas from a steady stream of seismic brain farts.
"Your body looks way too long ... and the ... roundness of it. You're like a tree, but you're not wide. You're like a really skinny tree. What's a skinny tree? A palm tree, right? A palm tree's a really skinny thing.  That's what you--you look like a palm tree. I mean your hair does match it. You're kinda like Axel, but your head's not as coconut-y as his. Uh-h-h. And you're Asian. And Axel, I think, is white. So there's another difference. But, dude, your body is really weird."
The riff is entertaining in a manic sort of way, and in Eli's hands, it's free-form smack, with a touch of poetry to it.

Lin suggests a posedown in the center of the circle. Though strikingly different, both bodies look humpable, and while Kevin stretches upward--"like a palm tree"--Eli sneaks in from behind and slams his forearm up Lin's thighs, smashing the balls. Typical UCW. Typical Eli Black.

The action features arm bars, punches, clutches, stretches, backbreakers, surfboards, racks, piledrivers, wedgies, kicks, shoves, scissors, crabs, figure-fours, body slams, even a little arm wrestling and hair pulling too--pretty much the typical UCW dim sum (as in "every form of abuse a body can take ... and dim sum"). The end comes with a volley of knuckle blasts and a lazy man's version of a piledriver that nevertheless does the trick, ensuring that one of these wrestlers is coldly, completely, satisfyingly, brutally knocked the fuck out.

Sunday, June 26, 2016

Say Hi to Scrappy

Frey vs Scrappy, Mat Rats 71 (Thunders Arena)

I can almost hear Frey groaning as he snaps the waistband of his Calvin's, "Another pretty boy to break in, another dollar." And it probably doesn't make him feel any better that the new guy has a cutesy name: Scrappy. Where does Mr. Mike find these guys, anyway? Kentucky. This one, at least.

Scrappy is a keeper. At first he looks like a Disney prince crossed with another Disney prince, but once he breaks a sweat, we see the rudeboy and bully that lurks under the surface. He arrives shrink-wrapped in Marco-grade attitude, with curly hair that begs to be pulled (Frey doesn't even try to resist), and like every white boy his age, he speaks the dulcet monosyllables of Lil Wayne.

But can he wrestle? He makes Frey work, if that answers the question. Of course Frey takes him down right quick and mounts him, the international sign of male dominance. But Frey rules uncontested for less than a minute; then Scrappy fights back. Even so, Frey is top dog for most of the match, delivering up an array of power scissors, carries, and figure-fours (which Scrappy reverses in the classic manner).

At the match's midpoint, Scrappy shows his stuff, with crab holds, head scissors, schoolboy pins, and gut punches. Frey breaks a sweat at this point, but as the time nears for the tables to turn back, it appears that Frey is only testing the Kentucky recruit and perhaps using the steady volley of attacks to psych himself up for a comeback.

I'm impressed with Scrappy's wrestling ability, considering a wrestler's first match at the Arena is usually (with a few exceptions) a de facto hazing. He absolutely must fight Tak and Marco (and soon!) to fully demonstrate his chops. I figure Eagle, Profiteer, Steel, and Viggo are going to want a crack at this guy too. In time he may even get tossed to Cage or Dirty Daddy for a squared-circle drubbing.

I want to see more of Scrappy, more matches, skinnier gear, maybe even some more muscle packed on (or not--he looks fine, as is). The Arena could be a great home for him, and based on his debut, I'd say he has a lot to give back.

Friday, June 24, 2016

Tag Team Love

Ty Alexander and Chase Addams vs Christian Taylor and Charlie Evans, Tag Team Torture 19 (BG East)

The selfie generation is scoffed in BG East's latest tag-team match, followed by a 26-minute coda featuring glamour-heel team mates turning on each other. Impatient with Addaxander's stalling tactics, Christian and Charlie stage a synchronized assault from behind. The complicated spot is amusing and so obviously choreographed it's hard not to imagine the outlines of dance-steps on the ring mat. The all-American duo (check out the gear) target Ty for punishment first, with Taylor splitting the bad-boy's thighs like a wishbone, forcing a panicked submission. Barely recovered, Ty charges his adversaries, who step out of the way, letting Ty fly through the ropes and hurl headfirst to the wall.

Next, the newbies Charlie and Chase square off. Charlie's apparently too much wrestler for Chase to handle on his own, so after getting tossed about for a few seconds, Addams tags Alexander in. Slapstick violence ensues, with Charlie getting the best of Ty at every turn. The bad guys waste time whimpering and licking each other's wounds, figuratively speaking, so Charlie bams the two skulls together and traps Ty in a side headlock. This is where the tables turn, as Ty escapes and then hangs Evans in the tree of woe and pounds him senseless while Chase cheers from the ring apron. Soon the two are double-teaming Charlie without mercy. The villainy reigns for about ten minutes. Then Christian reenters the ring and starts mopping the floor with a way-outclassed Addams. A little later, Taylor's taking on Chase and Ty together, eventually exercising his ire on Ty alone, then inviting his tag partner back in for some two-on-one comeuppance.

The wrestlers handle all this with a light comic touch. The zany energy is impressive, even when it's off the mark of my particular erogenous zones. Later, there's a funny bit, as Ty gains the upper hand on Christian, in a sweaty beatdown that musses Taylor up spectacularly. Ty is working solo here, but Chase's ringside dawdling is starting to piss him off--not so much because he's being left with all the heavy lifting to do, more because Addams isn't capturing enough of these moments on Instagram. I laughed out loud. The upshot, just as I hoped, is a four-men-in-the-ring showdown. This part is indeed hot (sweat works wonders), suddenly climaxing with a devastating pairing of pile-driver and choke-out for a decisive win.

Ty Alexander vs Chase Addams, Tag Team Torture 19 (BG East)

The first match ends with Ty and Chase bickering and shoving each other, which leads us directly to the second match, Ty versus Chase, mano a mano. Had these two accumulated a bit more history together, I would probably find this spat between partners maddeningly sexy. They would know each other's strengths and weaknesses like the backs of their hands.  Years or at least months of trust would be obliterated as they at long last turn on each other. Given some time to gestate, this breakup could have had some gravitas. Still, it's a fine followup for Chase, whose talents were under-utilized in the preceding match--and Ty demonstrates how much he has developed over the past two years at BGE.

The two lock up like a couple of roughnecks. Chase and Ty take turns crushing each other against the turnbuckles with a ferocity that was lacking in the first half of the previous tag event. This action is tasty, especially when Chase cranks an armbar onto Ty, his boot heel pressed to the back of his ex's skull. Ty repays with a modified crab hold, his fingers interlaced across Addams' mouth like a grille. Later, a knee to the face gives the advantage back to Chase. There's plenty of working of body on body close to the mat, which is exactly the stuff I was raised on (and raises me still). Both Ty and Chase enjoy long stretches of dominance--along with, of course, long stretches of paying the piper, in turn. All of this steams my balls, especially as Ty's butt cheeks get bared (again) and we approach a daring, heart-stopping finisher that makes the preceding piledriver look like a kiddie boat ride.

My particular wrestling kink was shaped decades ago by Johnny Weissmuller's Tarzan on TV and fuzzy, black-and-white images of sweaty hairy-chested lugs with broken noses and cauliflower ears (often hid under mops of peroxided hair) interlocking limbs on spotty canvas mats. Conversely, the new generation of gay-bi wrestling kinksters grew up with manga, Marvel Universe-inspired summer blockbusters, and, of course, the Let's Make a Deal glitz of WWE--with dollops of Harry Potter and Westeros thrown in for good measure. There's a fairly wide gap between the style of my kinks and those created by and for millennials (I hate the term, but, hey, it's there). Although I guess I will forever mainly draw my inspiration from a pro wrestling that was disappearing just as I was discovering it, I am encouraged and always a little surprised that young gay-bi men still find inspiration in the sport I love--even more that I occasionally see flashes of my old-school kinks mixed in with other generations' homoerotic fantasies.

Thursday, June 23, 2016

Strong Style

Kotaro Suzuki vs Roderick Strong, 26 June 2011 (Pro Wrestling NOAH)

Strong plays up his image as cocky American in this challenge to Suzuki's belt. He's always exuded a certain something that makes me want to knock him down a peg or two. It's equal parts attitude and appearance.  The attitude is easy to decipher--the sneer, his propensity for cowardly attacks and evasions, his flagrant lack of respect for any of his opponents.

Somehow, though, these behaviors are implicit in his physiognomy, even before he does or says anything. The conservative cut of his hair, the pouty lips, his empty black eyes, his body, muscular but boyishly slack--these are the physical traits that would define him as a heel even if he were playing the babyface.

The last trait especially seems to suggest, despite the name and his evident strength in and out of the ring, a weakness in character that his viciousness is meant to disguise. That vulnerability paired with meanness makes Strong perfect for Japanese strong-style tactics because he expresses the pain and the struggle so keenly.

And Suzuki is a fine adversary for him, similar in build, yet possessing the calm durability of a seasoned warrior. After a long struggle, brutal and frustratingly even, it's exhilarating to watch Suzuki at last put the challenger down. It's messy because of the profusion of sweat, but the climactic pile driver kayos the cocky foreigner and saves the belt for Suzuki and Japan.

Tuesday, June 21, 2016


Debuts! Betrayals! Sexual domination and humiliation! And Jake Jenkins! BG East's first installment of Catalog 114 hit the internet last week, and though I have only dipped into the action shots on The Arena@BGEAST, the mayhem on display looks fresh and spicy as familiar faces take on three new hires: 6', 170# Chase Addams; 5'8", 130# Charlie Evans; and 5'11", 210# hot daddy Matt Thrasher.

BG East is showing its big heart, too, donating $5 of every order placed from last Wednesday through this past weekend to Equality Florida's Support Victims of Pulse Shooting gofundme project, which seeks to raise $7 million "to support every single victim of the horrific shooting at Orlando's Pulse Nightclub. This includes victims’ families, survivors, and those in the club who may not have suffered physical injury but [are] in need of support."

 Kayden Keller vs Drake Marcos, Ring Releases 4 (BG East)

Charlie Evans and Christian Taylor vs Ty Alexander and Chase Addams, Tag Team Torture 19 (BG East)

Ty Alexander vs Chase Addams, Tag Team Torture 19 (BG East)

Brute Baynard and Matt Thrasher vs Morgan Cruise and Damien Rush, Tag Team Torture 19 (BG East)

Chace LaChance vs Paul Hudson, Wrestler Spotlight: Chace LaChance (BG East)

Chace LaChance vs Denny Cartier, Wrestler Spotlight: Chace LaChance (BG East)

Chace LaChance vs Jake Jenkins, Wrestler Spotlight: Chace LaChance (BG East)


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