Being Max

Max Anderson vs Ron Wilson, Battling Bodies 46 (NHB-Battle)

In a daydream now and then, I imagine what it might have been like to be Max Anderson eleven years ago. Statuesque, unblemished, handsome, muscular, competitive, he was a king at NHB-Battle, drawing hot young dudes with muscles who would stand in line to test their mettle against him. There were better grapplers than Max, but Max fit an archetype, the godlike jock everybody wants a piece of. Sometimes he won and sometimes he lost, but being Max Anderson was all that mattered. I don't know for sure, but I think he was straight, which means he got only half the kicks I would have got if I were he.

Here, Ron Wilson takes him on and takes him on fiercely. He's smaller but wirier than Max, nimble, strong, with an ass that jiggles from time to time. (Watch for the quiver in the seventh GIF above.) And I ask you: Are there two more white-bread names than Max Anderson and Ron Wilson? Yet here they are in floral Polynesian trunks, fighting in every sense of the word except fisticuffs. Punches are not allowed, but you can jerk, twist, shove, and tumble the way these two do. It looks like more than once tempers flared, but the rules of the game are largely abided by. The flashes of fury are intermittent, separated by longish dead heats, limbs so tangled together that neither man can move. And, damn, it looks like fun.

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