Man Is Wolf to Man

Wolf Boy vs Chase Michaels, Match 613 - in Oil and 2 out of 3 (UCW)

Chase Michaels has been such a reliable performer at UCW that it's hard to praise him enough for his significant though subtle contributions to the brand. He pulls together sinister and sexy in ways that are incomparable to other wrestlers' styles. You have to go pretty far back into the history of underground wrestling - to guys like Kurt Eriksen and Doug Brandon, neither of whom resembles Michaels physically - to find similarly surly and seductive menaces. And Chase is a fine cold-blooded fighter on top of all that. I don't think he gets enough credit for any of this, but the guy never disappoints on the mats or in the ring or on any flat space where two men can wrestle.

That said, Chase is the perfect wrestler for breaking in Wolf Boy, UCW's latest find. Watching them together is like watching one of those wildlife videos - shark vs killer whale, or, more aptly, wolf vs jaguar. I might question the choice of an oil match as an optimal point of first contact for these two, but oil fights light my fuse even when the contestants lack the style that these two bring to the fight, so I'm not complaining at all. There's electricity in just the way these two lube each other's body while trading tough-guy boasts, Wolf Boy confidently asserting he's going to win despite having never wrestled in oil before. 

As expected, Michaels outdraws his opponent, literally sweeping the boy off his feet. Wolf Boy puts up a speedy defense, and we're off! The two embark on a rough and captivating battle of wits and muscles, while gingerly steering their way around the challenges of oil wrestling - principally, the absence of traction. The squish and tumble of oiled bodies are predictably erotic, and the heated struggle provides inadvertent glimpses of nakedness and prolonged, suggestive body contact. Then, a precarious pinfall wins the first round about 11 minutes into the 30-minute three-fall fray.

Eight or so minutes later, the score evens up with  a second pinfall. Lots of crotch grabs let us know that we are still in UCW Land, where there are no rules, and low blows are rightly regarded as a sort of art form. High marks to both performers in putting up a strenuous and legit contest up to the  bitter and tumultuous climax - when it's anybody's guess who's going to walk away as victor. Both these beasts have more bite than their cool, collected demeanor would suggest. Of course, in my house boner-points go to any match that ends with the winner telling the sore loser, "I'll fuck ya, if you want."

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