Hotheaded

Cliff Conlin vs Flyboy, Arena 20 (BG Enterprise)

Cliff Conlin, a classic roughneck from his cowlicky hair to his black wrestling boots, takes on pretty muscle-blond Flyboy in this 1992 match. Without being ostentatiously skimpy, the trunks fit both boys nicely, and both fighters are easy on the eyes. The match follows a three-fall structure and progresses from triumph to defeat to payback, each act as rich and tasty as the last. There is no character development beyond Conlin's and Flyboy's pugnacity. The wrestlers are free of irony and timekilling posturing. 

The fight has no narrative frame - no one arrives late, no one hogs the weight machine, no one has put the moves on the other guy's girlfriend, neither is a supervillain with an underground lab. Even the babyface-heel angle is downplayed. Nobody gets a blowjob at the end of the match (that we know of), and yet its high voltage is undeniable. The fight is sparse and simple. The battle claims the spotlight, not showboating.

Cliff and Flyboy are strong and fit but not chiseled, striated, or veiny. These guys are not anime characters. At this particular moment in history, Conlin was at his best weight and girth, in my opinion. He is firm without being indestructible. His love of a good fight has few parallels in underground wrestling today. His holds are conventional yet palpable. He makes even a standard armlock look fresh, like it's something he made up on the spot. Flyboy possesses the sort of Prince Charming looks that are best enjoyed while they are being demolished. Conlin is the tough big-brother type, a righteous destroyer, a hot-tempered alpha male. A good match. A really really good match.

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