Monday, February 29, 2016

Pain Palace




Flash LaCash vs Zach Reno, Ringwars 25 (BG East)

"Y' wanna dance?" Flash asks, following an awkward but mercifully brief interchange in which the wrestlers try out their smack talk on each other. Zach makes a WTF face and replies, "I don't wanna d--  Owww, muthafuckah!" He's cut off by Flash's boot slamming his heart. LaCash backs the woolly-headed babyface into the corner ropes for more abuse, but Reno springs back with a punch to the gut and a trio of jabs to Flash's face, which he cinches with a tight side headlock. Flash doesn't like the headlock, so he busts loose, launching a lengthy session of give and take, in which the two lob wrestling holds at each other like a couple of tennis pros.

It takes five minutes, but Flash gradually gains unobstructed control of Reno, showering the handsome grappler with torments, each one potentially more crippling than the last, targeting Zach's arm, his hair, his spinal column, his fingers, his balls, pretty much the whole 5'8" 160 pounds, overlooking no part of it as far as I can tell. If, as I believe, LaCash won't be satisfied till he's widely recognized as BGE's baddest, meanest, nastiest villain, the wreckage of this hairy-chested stud, inch by inch, will make a more than adequate calling card.

The online catalog description is usefully thorough on this matter:
Flash's adrenaline shoots through the roof as he begins nailing Reno with power moves from gutbusters and running powerslams to powerbombs and suplexes. And if the ball claws weren't bad enough, Flash won't stop with the trash talk, proclaiming that if he is the King of Pain Palace, then he'll make Zach his Queen.
Just past the match's midpoint, Zach borrows a page from Jonny Firestorm's playbook. Battered and winded, he crawls on hands and knees to Flash's boots, the very picture of abject defeat. He reaches for the heel's legs as if to steady himself. LaCash is so pleased with this picture of total submission that he lets down his guard, and Zach whips his forearm up between Flash's thighs, flattening the villain's balls. LaCash teeters and collapses, but then, powered by sheer malevolence, he springs back unexpectedly, redoubling his efforts at making Reno the ground zero of his fury and corrupt ambition.

Zach and Flash have been two of my favorite additions to the BGE roster these last three years. In some respects, they resemble each other--they could be brothers, though I'm thinking more Cain and Abel or Romulus and Remus than Wally and Beaver. Zach makes a great good guy--ruggedly handsome, tightlipped, a man of action with a strong sense of justice. Conversely, Flash is shaping up as a terrific bad-ass, ambitious, callous, and cruel, his face and body as sharp as a hundred hatchets. Both are ready to wear themselves down to a nub for the sake of a good fight. How irresistible is that?

Sunday, February 28, 2016

"Simpson Slides Nicely Up and In"



Steve Simpson vs Bob Bradley, early 1987 (WCCW)

Camera time spent on showing "exciting" Steve Simpson disrobing is time well spent, in my opinion. There isn't a whole lot to the rest of this quickie match pitting Steve against Bradley ("in the kitty-cat trunks"). Apparently its main function is to fill in program time after an unexpectedly short match in which Mike Von Erich beat Brian Adias in five seconds ("Sometimes in five seconds you can get off [break in the audio]"). Enjoy the housemade artisanal GIFs above and below, including an ice-cold cock slam (fourth one down), but the real joys here are in the ringside commentator's unintentional double-entendres (to my prurient ears, at least), eroticizing Steve's win over Bob, in which "Simpson comes exploding back"  and "slides nicely up and in," "quietly, quickly, and efficiently done on Bob 'The Cat' Bradley."

I know, I know. I have a dirty mind. Filthy.







Saturday, February 27, 2016

Wrestling Videos I Watch Over and Over and Over (Part 12)






Rusty Stevens vs Tommy Defendi, The Oil Match November 18, 2009 (Naked Kombat)

For me Stevens vs Defendi is the defining moment of Naked Kombat. It is sexy, aggressive, funny, and sporting, a miraculous combination because so rarely achieved. It is also the defining moment of both wrestlers, porn stars turned gladiators at the peak of their careers Rusty deserves most of the credit, due to his easy way with a put-down and his skills as wrestler and master. In a prologue, Rusty boasts that he has prepared for his match with Tommy by eating junk food and skipping workouts because Defendi is such a "pushover." His flip wiseguy bearing should clash with his role as dominator, a performance usually demanding an assiduous absence of wit, but he somehow manages to bridge the chasm between stand-up and sadomasochism through sheer meanness and overweening arrogance. He promises to ride his opponent "like a pony" and apply the "usual fishhooks." The tone says it all. His planned demolition of Tommy will not only be painful and humiliating but pithy and offhand as well. And it is.






Jason Adonis vs Marc Stone, Mat Attack (Can-Am)

My first blog post on this match in the spring of 2011 remained among the top five most visited posts for nine months after its initial publication. I shouldn't have been surprised. The well-named Adonis is not only one of the reigning gods of gay porn but also one of the most magnetic wrestlers to appear at Can-Am. In this 2002 release, the only one of his challengers to come close to outshining him is 5-foot-5 Marc, whose tenacity and wrestling know-how are a match for Jason's muscle, aggression, and arrogant beauty. The video opens with the two changing out of street clothes into gear in the locker room. Jason tells Marc he "fucked up" in taking him on, an opponent twice his size. "You just don't know what all you're in for," Marc shoots back. In fact, Marc gains the first takedown just seconds after the contest begins and goes immediately for a choking headlock. The two rip and strip with Marc tending to dominate. In just ten minutes, he's making the muscle god suck his cock. In the second round, however, Jason is all over the "mighty midget," showing he's got the moves, speed, and agility to match Stone's. In the nine-minute final round, the two wrestle buck naked--loser getting ass-fucked, slow, steady, and hard.





Mike Martin vs Ty Garrison, X-Fights UK 7 (BG East)

BG East's UK matches are noticeably different than their stateside counterparts. It's more than just the smart accents and rosy-red cheeks. American wrestlers are about muscle mass, verbal abuse, and verve. British wrestlers bring style and physics to the sport. Yanks are more bang-bang-bang and boom! Brits are more likely to quietly drive a shiv into your eye. (Ask poor Kit Marlowe!) But I'm speaking metaphorically. If underground wrestlers in the UK are more reserved in manner, they are also more matter of fact in their sexuality and aggression. Mike Martin is one of my all-time favorite BG East wrestlers on either side of the Atlantic. His boy-next-door (or lad-down-the-lane) good looks and patient and precise (and intimate) way of turning an opponent into his bitch closely match my own aphrodisiac idea of what erotic wrestling should be. He and Ty together reenact the sort of power struggle that I imagine underlay the practice of fagging in Edwardian boarding schools. I don't mean that they are overrefined or effete. It's more like they project a matter-of-fact sense of entitlement to conquer and subjugate any body they can get on top of and ride.


Friday, February 26, 2016

Get Wet







Krush vs Stan Torum, Water Dunking Wrestling: Sinking Stan Torum (Krushco)

Krush decides the time has come to take Stan Torum out. He lies in wait in stretch camo and black sleeveless vest. Torum walks right into the trap. Krush grabs him by the neck and starts beating the hell out of him. Torum fights back, but Krush retains control, thrusting Stan into a nearby hot tub and dunking him repeatedly. Taken off guard, the guy is defenseless.

"I didn't mean it!" Stan pleads. But Krush turns a cold and unfeeling ear to his whimpering. Stan attempts a reversal, even succeeds in holding Krush's head under the water for a second or two. The hope spot only pisses Krush off more. "Pretend you're a fish!" Krush snarls as he holds the punk's head under. The hand-to-hand combat is intense. The action tumbles back out onto the deck. "It's over!" Stan begs. But Krush tells him it ain't over till Torum is knocked the fuck out.

Stan doesn't take his punishment like a man, so Krush grabs a stick and starts beating his soaking wet ass with it, like an old-time dad spanking his spoiled brat. You can practically see the fight draining out of Torum with each new indignity. Krush peels Stan's black tanktop off to choke him with it. At last we get a view of Stan's torso. Stan Torum's luck, it appears, has run out.

Krushco takes a new tack with this suspenseful "fight to the death" fantasy. I wonder how Krush managed to get police sirens to wail for practically the whole 32-minute battle. They certainly add to the sense of danger and impending doom. Krush has never been meaner, and Stan is one hot and feisty victim in a match that marks a new high point in combat entertainment and rage-ignited comeuppance.

Thursday, February 25, 2016

Pow!




Dick Rick vs Lucky Loko, Ringwars 25 (BG East)

Lucky Loko's long hair makes the case for long hair in pro wrestling. Not only can you grab on to it and fling him around by it, but it also catches the breeze in the high-impact moments, trailing behind or shooting upwards emphatically, like an ideogram signifying "Oh shit!" or "Fuck me!" or "Pow!"

Dick Rick climbs into the ring, telling Lucky, "You're gonna have to pin me, you're gonna have to make me submit, and you're gonna have to knock me out." Of course, Rick has every reason to believe his opponent cannot do one of these things, much less all three. Lucky thinks he can, though, even though his belt size is slightly smaller than the circumference of just one of Dick's thighs.

Rick gets the initial takedown, but minutes later, plucky Loko gets a grip on the big man's wrist and winds it up to his shoulder blades. A remarkable reversal, considering Rick outweighs him by a hundred pounds. But then Rick clamps his massive thighs to the sides of Loko's head, and it looks like the show is over. Still, again and again, Lucky rises to the top, against the odds, by luck or gumption. For 30 minutes he makes this an even give-and-take contest, and for 30 minutes Loko is, more often than not, the man in control, working up a hard-to-miss bulge in those metallic-gold trunks of his.

However, the last ten minutes are not so kind to our longhair friend. Rick comes after him with every ounce of muscle and rage in him. The results are devastating. But the thing is ... Lucky won't stay down. Dick practically pleads with him to stay flat on his back for the full count of ten, but Lucky fights through the pain and double vision and rises. The final minutes of the match are agony to behold. In the end, we have a winner and an unconscious loser. We've seen a pinfall and multiple submissions, but it takes two consecutive piledrivers for the knockout that ends this testosteronic battle.

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Krush-o-matic

Krush is the gay wrestling fan's superhero. Other underground wrestling companies give us cute boys playing dress-up and call it superhero wrestling. It's very pretty, but over half the boys play it coy on identifying as gay or bi--and few pass muster as wrestlers (looking good in wrestling gear counts for a lot but it does not equal wrestling). Krush is the opposite of coy. Krush of planet Krushco symbolically takes on the enemies of equality, liberty, and fraternity with opponents named Stan Torum and Marco Robio (wink wink), and his matches "keep it real," with hardly a smirk or posedown to be found. Krush is generously brutal, an equal-opportunity aggressor, never stinting on the pelvic thrusts and stiff chops to the head. A wrestling match with Krush involves 100% body contact, 100% agony, nothing held back. Over the past few years, Krushco has polished its act with hi-def videography, a more attractive fight space, more mobile camerawork, a few entertaining gimmicks, and a more personable and boisterous version of the Krush character, but what has not changed is the intensity of the battles and the grit of the opponents, with a level of commitment hard to find anywhere else.

Krush vs Lance

Krush vs Johnny O (Rematch)

Krush vs Johnny O

Krush vs Lionel 
Krush vs Marco Robio

Krush vs Stan Torum

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Dolph Danner







 Guido Genatto vs Dolph Danner, Last Man Standing 2 (BG East)

In thirteen new matches just released, BG East introduces five new players on the roster, joining a host of familiar, even revered veterans. Most of the matches have outcomes that are easy enough to predict--the pairings themselves all but advertise the victors and losers, precisely what most fans want, at least those who relish a tasty squash job.

The hardest contest to forecast involves, surprisingly, the seemingly least beatable man on the roster: the cruel and magnificent Guido Genatto (5'10", 235#) in Last Man Standing 2. Glamour-blond newcomer Dolph Danner (6', 180#) is the wild card, a man similar enough to Genatto in gumption but dissimilar enough in style to unleash a perfect storm in the BGE ring.

As Dolph matches Guido snarl for snarl, cheap shot for cheap shot, alliterative name for alliterative name, it's hard to speak with any confidence of where this 40-minute zipper-quivering collision is going to wind up.

"'Dirty Daddy'?" In disbelief Dolph spits the moniker out, his nose practically pressed up to Guido's. "I just see a ... Big ... Bitch!" This opening volley of smack-inflected words sets my heart to thumping. Even Genatto looks impressed with the new guy's audacity, but he tells the kid to back off in no uncertain terms. Dolph gets behind him and latches his tattooed arms to the hairy heel's waist and won't let go till Guido almost snaps his forearm like a breadstick.

Among his many charms, Dolph suffers noisily. He also inflicts pain with the deadest eyes in the morgue. His reversal of a steel-belted armbar catches the Daddy by surprise, bringing the ever-arrogant Genatto to his knees. From there, Danner buries the big brute's face in his (Danner's) crotch. This is humiliation that Guido has rarely if ever experienced. And you can bet your bottom dollar Guido is going to make the upstart pay, and pay dearly, for the insult.

The give and take continues till the last second of the match, with an invigorating brutality you only get when you set a well-established mega-heel up against a hot and ruthless heel on the make. Bear hugs, nose wringing, figure-fours, chops to the face, and ball-sniffing headscissors follow at a staggering pace--and none of it is quiet and understated. Guido and Dolph know how to sell the hell out of crippling holds!

Could I possibly overstate how hot I find the divine Dolph Danner in his offbeat pulchritude and lascivious curves? Or my joy in watching his and Guido's savage pas de deux? Or how many dicks I would suck to see Danner in the ring against Joe Robbins or Exavier or Lane Hartley, which cannot happen soon enough? Or how lavish a shrine I would build for the guy's aqua-metallic trunks were they ever to fall into my possession? (Kids, it takes a trained dweeb and blogger to mark out this hard, this school-girlishly, and lay it on this thick. Do not ... do NOT ... attempt this at home!)

The match suits my peculiar tastes in wrestling perfectly. I like surprises. Twists and pivots. I find myself cheering for both Guido and Dolph at the same time, even hoping the heated battle will resolve itself in the formation of a new heel tag team.  Occasionally for three months now I have composed shortlists of the wrestling videos I watch over and over and over. I am confident this fight soon will belong to that number.


Monday, February 22, 2016

Perry vs Omen














Ace Perry vs Jake Omen, Secret Wars (Paradox Wrestling)

In this "secret" match from last August, in gorgeous natural light, the Indianapolis babyface Ace Perry (5'9", 187#) shines against Jake Omen (6'1", 224#). The good-looking kid shows a fine instinct (for his age and high-flying super-kicking tendencies)  for putting his heart into suffering and, given the opportunity, working an opponent slowly and attentively. He also holds his own in a toe-to-toe punching contest. I see him mostly in matches for Ohio-based Rockstar Pro Wrestling. A couple of years ago, not long after his pro debut, Ace got some deservedly good press for asking an autistic fan to her prom. I'm a sucker for a nice guy with a solid build who enjoys playing rough.

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