Kid Vicious vs Jarret Cole, Ringwars 7 (BG East)
Today I'm revisiting one of BG East's greatest bombardments of the senses: the clash of two of the company's raunchiest and most coldblooded sadists, Kid Vicious, 6'1", 170#, and Jarret Cole, 5'11", 180#, in Ringwars 7. (BGE just released number 26 in the series.) I mainly associate these two with mat contests, but here they are in the squared circle, with absolutely no mercy for each other.
Vicious and Cole are notorious for taking all kinds of liberties with the rules and their opponents, so matching them up against each other ensured a classic great-white-shark-versus-giant-squid contest. It's been too long since I last watched this video (on VHS, probably, if that offers a clue about how long it's been). I remembered it was great, but I had forgot just how great it is. It opens with Jarret standing meditatively on the ring apron, in striped singlet and black leather jacket. He enters and strips off the jacket. Seconds later, skinhead Vicious enters in black rubber square-cut trunks and, yep, a black leather jacket too, quickly discarded.
Not a word spoken, just Vicious rhythmically butting back against the turnbuckle, impatient to get to work. When the bell sounds, the two rush towards each other. Cole floors Vicious three times. Then Vicious catches him in an armlock. The Kid maintains control, punching and slamming his opponent, then backing him into a corner for some hammering blows to the chest, capped off with a high body slam to the opposite corner. Jarret, a maestro of selling pain, arches up, his mouth a perfect O. A second body slam gives us a look at Jarret's agony from a slightly different angle.
Cole rolls over on his chest, trying to push himself back up. Vicious drives his boot heel repeatedly to the man's back, forcing him back down. Next Vicious straddles Jarret's back, driving his butt down to the small of the back before applying a chinlock. Jarret refuses to submit, so Vicious drives his elbow to the top of the guy's head, all but knocking him out. He pushes Cole's chest up to the turnbuckles to inflict more trauma to the small of the back. Then he whips the guy back and forth from one corner to the opposite.
Vicious delivers pain in long, yet concentrated doses. He is a tireless tormentor. Neither he nor Jarret has to talk smack. They just get the job done. Some heels have a vast arsenal of submission holds that they string together like floats in a Christmas parade, each one more impossibly spectacular than the last. Vicious keeps it simple. Some would say stark. He will work a single assault over and over and over, unflinchingly, till he succeeds in breaking his man. His punches are fast and sharp--and yet they stick, as sure and deadly as steel hooks.
Jarret gets his turn about seven minutes into this 34-minute war. He is no less serious than Vicious, but his style is different. Vicious is cold, dispassionate, whereas Cole is red hot. The guy practically sweats steam. Vicious deals out the pain in close needling jabs. Cole likes to scoop his opponents up and grandly fling them to the ground. Cole gets in close, too, almost as if he wants to share his victim's misery, almost as if he can telepathically connect with his opponent, to experience the master and victim roles at the same time. I can think of few wrestlers for whom my reaction is as visceral as for Jarret, especially at this point in his career. Fighting is fucking for this guy.
In the last ten minutes of this battle, cocks are exposed, beautiful cherry-colored cocks in a fight that has centered on cock from the start. The cocks are targets, of course, but they are also ensigns of masculine power and dominance. The action slows down as the fight turns more overtly erotic, but it remains just as brutal. Younger sex wrestlers at BG East and elsewhere should study this match and take notes. This is how it's done, boys. No tongue in cheek. No wisecracks. No self-conscious grins. Nothing glib about it. It's pure manly ritual, tapping into something primal and disquieting. Watch and learn.