Wednesday, March 8, 2017
Kevin Bennett vs JT Dunn, 21 January 2017 (Empire State Wrestling)
Despite sportsmanlike handshakes before and after, JT and Kevin come to blows in this North Tonawanda, New York, event. I find a fist fight even more erotic than wrestling at times. It has to be vehement, and it has to look real. I forget who said it first, but I would agree that every man needs to get punched in the face at least once in his life, preferably by a bro in the heat of a passionate dispute.
This appears to be a significant departure from my previous statements about loving folk-style wrestling. Actually I do, but for me, wrestling is always hottest when there's a high probability of fisticuffs erupting at any second. Simple grappling is better than sex; I have said as much on many occasions. But coming to blows raises the stakes. The fear factor, the fight-or-flight response, and the adrenaline rush heighten the effect like a testosteronic bolt of lightning.
Surprisingly, however, I'm not a big fan of gut punching per se, at least not when it looks like a planned endurance test, with the recipient bracing for it. I'm not much of a boxing fan, either; the sweet science limits body contact to just the punches and the occasional (thrilling and illegal) holding tactic. I'm for all-out wailing on each other. Bare knuckles and fury all the way. Japanese strong style or pankration or drunken brawl or facing down a bully after school, it's all pretty hot.