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.


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