Suburban Brawl

Powergunz vs Cage Thunder, Matmen 27 (BG East)

Pro wrestling requires a crowd, hence its energy, excess, and esprit de corps. But I have special feelings for wrestling in private spaces - living rooms, dens, backrooms, cabanas, any setting that's far from the gawking crowd. Matches in these confines are more intimate, obviously, but also potentially more intense and less affected than arena wrestling. They require a different kind of performance. My earliest memories of wrestling do not involve arenas (I didn't see my first live wrestling show until 2011, and that was in a bar). Instead, my wrestling venues were bedrooms, motel rooms, and dorms. So watching Powergunz and Cage Thunder slay each other in a setting right out of House Beautiful  has (for me) a special bang to it.

Besides, daddies like these two belong in a well appointed ranch house, which is evidently what we have here. The contest begins without a prelude. Powergunz snatches Cage from behind in a full nelson while the latter is warming up. Cage writhes and grimaces, but eventually reverses the hold. Powergunz escapes, driving his elbow to Cage's solar plexus, as the great Gordon Solie used to say, and slams Thunder face-down to the mat, where he applies a crab hold. He shifts position and briefly puts Cage in a chin lock. So far, despite the grunts and groans, the match looks fairly amiable. The manhandling is gingerly at first. Then Powergunz clamps together his fists and begins to bludgeon the small of Thunder's back.

The holds become increasingly torturous, but the action, which consists mainly of scissor holds, ab stretches, and punching, follows no cohesive plot line - intentionally, from the looks of it. Cage does an admirable job of holding his own against his heavier opponent, but Powergunz's body mass and strength are a lot to overcome. The big guy takes immense pleasure in slapping Cage around, even more in schoolboy-pinning him, rhythmically thrusting his crotch to the hairy chest as Thunder arches his body in throes of agony. Perhaps the most notable feature of the brawl is the raspy smack talk and grunts as man ties man into knots, heaves down, and, on occasion, stuffs his crotch into the other guy's mouth.

As the struggle intensifies, the match acquires some of the gravitas of authentic competition with touches of S&M role play. Nothing occurs that is quite as excitingly vicious as what, say, Kid Vicious or Guido Genatto brings to a fight, but pain is celebrated for its own sake, including a smidgen of bloodshed and, more than once, testicular assault.  On its own, the frottage element is delicious and should convince plenty of viewers to pull on their trunks and call up a buddy for some rec room cardio. The match culminates with what approximates the Holy Grail of underground wrestling: the bearhug knockout - with a wedgie thrown in as a lagniappe.

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