Squirt

Drew Harper vs Dante Bello, Oil Bash (Wrestler4Hire)

As far as I know, there are no oil-wrestling training academies. Oil wrestling is pretty much what it has always been, introduced in the twentieth century by bartenders wrestling on a slippery tarp on slow nights, often Tuesdays, when such events, along with half-priced cocktails, were supposed to pull in customers. There are no rules to oil wrestling, except to manhandle and submit your opponent however you can. The W4H copywriter informs us, "putting your challenger to sleep is the only way to keep them from wriggling away." The "wriggling" is what I'm paying for.

Drew Harper and Dante Bello have perfect physiques for this sport - muscular, with some pinchable fat. They appear well-matched in size and weight. They're also two of my personal favorites. I don't get the sense that Bello knows wrestling any more than I did back in my day - cluelessness didn't stop me then any more than it should stop anybody now. Drew does know wrestling, much good it does him when covered in Wesson. This kind of match exists in a sphere of its own, hardly at all related to mat or ring wrestling, yet linked to the palestras of ancient civilizations.

In the same sense that oil wrestling has no rules as such, it has no story or angle. It's to be watched, the viewer hypnotized by the slow-motion heaving and thrusting, much as a person watches a lava lamp. Because it tells no story and has no rules, it's pleasures are sensuous, not intellectual or even emotional, usually. If wrestling is like a chess game, as often claimed, oil wrestling is like watching waves crash against rocks or puppies at play - two other recreations I enjoy with no left-brain activity at all. Oil wrestling is not relaxing, though. Oil wrestling is more; it's sex(y).

Visit Wrestler4Hire here.