Don't Mess Around with the Demolition Man

 

Austin Cooper vs Drake Marcos, Demolition 31 (BG East)

The just-hatched look on both wrestlers' faces leads me to believe that this match occurred some years ago, ballpark-figure eight. New or old, most contests in the Demolition series are set in a ring, so it's a treat for me to see Austin and Drake on a mat, a setting that suits them both. Obviously Drake is the one facing demolition. Since he has plans for the rest of the day, Coop wants to waste as little time as possible in destroying the guy. "I don't even know his name," he tells his friend Tom on the cell, "I think his name begins with a b  and ends with an h? Bitch, yeah, yeah, yeah."

Marcos and Cooper are a good mismatch, beefy Coop exercising his heel powers, slender Marcos moaning in that hopeless way that tickles my testicles. Austin has been one of the most durable and reliable performers in underground wrestling. His early pairings with (and against) Jake Jenkins launched his underground fight career. The glow of the honey-colored tan covering the length of his smooth body has become a visual trope at BG East and other wrestling promotions - it's a look that can signify either rugged outdoorsman or petulant narcissist.

Drake emerged with a pack of other outsider-wrestlers like Ty Alexander and Kayden Keller. While Alexander and Keller arrived with a certain swagger, Marcos was the affable but usually luckless raw recruit, a role he has played ever since. He has a regular-guy sex appeal - an otter with a laidback attitude. He's the most relatable of BGE's star wrestlers and surely one of its more convincing martyrs. Marcos brings both intelligence and naiveté to his performance style.

To offset the advantages of Coop's muscle and experience and to build suspense, the handsome heel's cell provides a distraction. Story-wise, it gives (some, okay minimal) leverage to Drake. Coop periodically gets in touch with his buddy Tom, whom he's meeting later, a situation which Drake, if he were more calculating, would take advantage of, perhaps to catch Coop with his guard down. He isn't, and he doesn't.

Drake's hope spot happens early and lasts only thirty-one seconds. Leave the room to take a leak and you might miss it. The rest of the twenty-seven minutes sees Austin stretching, bending, squishing, and slamming the hapless jobber. He makes it look easy. Drake makes it easy for him, offering no resistance past his first tepid "assault." Coop's attitude and muscle have me licking my lips for the duration of the no-contest contest. There are moments I envy Drake more than pity him.  Austin doesn't even work up a sweat. Before leaving, he takes some snaps of a broken Marcos to keep as souvenirs or to send to his friend. He then finishes Drake off with a grueling and merciless bearhug.

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