Publishing over 1,300 blog posts over about 6 years comes with an occasional privilege. No, I don’t mean taking shit from rude people insulting me about my opinions. That’s just a gift that seems to keep on giving, true enough, but the privilege that I’m talking about today is an occasional sneak peak of homoerotic wrestling products not quite yet released. I was on a short list sent a wrestling match by Mr. Mike at Thunder’s Arena. They’re trying out a new marketing approach in honor of the most post-modern of holidays, Cyber Monday.  November 30, 2015, for one day only, you can download a muscle on muscle feast featuring industry titan Frey (aka, Austin Cooper) getting his hands all over new, young muscle phenom Eagle.

I haven’t yet seen Eagle’s debut match against Dozer in Battlespace 84, so I’m late to the game in assessing this very tasty, fresh cut of meat. So you’ll forgive me if I take a moment to evaluate the promise of this magnificent kid. First of all, those eyes. I know, I know.  You aren’t shelling out cash to admire some guy’s eyes. But honestly, take a moment, because Eagle’s eyes are stunningly beautiful. Those eyes would stop me in my tracks if I saw this perched out a bar somewhere. Before I had the opportunity to confirm he’s built like the proverbial brick house, I’d be signing up for a ride based on nothing but those translucent, shimmering, riveting baby blue eyes.

So, yes, the kid is pretty.  He knows what you’re thinking, too. Painfully pretty often means heel bait in homoerotic wrestling.  So Eagle gives you a little testimonial by way of introduction, assuring you that although he gets paid good money as a fitness model to look pretty, he’s got the muscle and the wrestling background behind him to be much, much, much more than a pretty face on the Thunder’s mats. Though, again, at the risk of repeating myself, I just have to say again, fuck, he is lusciously pretty.

The title of this blog post was nearly “Hangin’ with Mr. Cooper,” but at Thunder’s, Eagle’s veteran opponent goes by Frey rather than Austin Cooper, as he’s known in competition elsewhere.  I’ve often referred to Austin as homoerotic wrestling’s reigning goldenboy, so it says something that dazzlingly pretty Eagle instantly rips that title from the veteran’s hands in the opening muscle pose down. Not that Frey isn’t every ounce as gorgeous and titillating as ever. He bulges in all the right places, and all of his bulges bounce and quiver with just the right heft. But if we’re talking homoerotic wrestling’s resident goldenboy, Frey looks downright pasty white and lumbersexual with his pale, pale skin and sinister red beard. Eagle is a bronzed god, with thighs that completely dwarf Frey’s powerful legs, and an incredibly aesthetic, perfectly proportioned back plunging via an incredibly tiny waist into a lush, powerful, thickly muscled set of glutes. At the risk of getting yet another boatload of hate mail from Coop fans, I’m just going to say what I see here: Eagle’s fitness, muscle size, muscle tone, tan, fuck, even his perfectly smooth skin tone puts the bulging, bearded veteran to shame. There, I said.  Let the hate zingers fly.

Physique aesthetics are, however, merely one component in what turns me on about this genre, of course. So color me delighted when the opening third of this face off demonstrates that both Frey and Eagle are equally credentialed amateur wrestling masters.  They trade single leg take downs for days. They put each other’s backs to the mat with authority.  I’ve known from the beginning that Frey is an accomplished amateur mat wrestler, but seeing him get pushed and tested by this shining, golden kid that’s just smacked the pretty right off of Frey is completely unexpected.

I won’t spoil the drama of competition too much for you, but I think Mr. Mike will understand if I have to say that the heat turns way, way up once Frey starts teaching the beautiful young pretty boy the difference between amateur and professional wrestling. He lays the physique star out like Thanksgiving dinner in a long, lingering, agonizingly arching over the knee backbreaker that shows off most of the kid’s best assets. All of Eagle’s muscles are just laid out there for the veteran to torture.  Your amateur wrestling coach didn’t teach you about that, now did he, Eagle?

Eagle is a quick study, though, and he is firmly in possession of all of the equipment necessary to not just dazzle fans, but also put the hurt on an opponent. It’s his gargantuan thighs crushing Frey’s ribs that slowly, wetly milk the grudging respect out of the veteran with a gasping submission. Frey has to take a minute to recover, which merely gives Eagle the time to flex and crow about his magnificent quads. He flexes those monsters in victory, and I’m signing up for the Eagle fan club instantly. Fuck, this guy is built!

Frey is that much more determined to snap the kid off at the knees, targeting precisely Eagle’s pride and joy legs for the veteran’s last ditch effort not to suffer a humiliating defeat from the very same kid who snatched the title of reigning homoerotic wrestling goldenboy from him 10 seconds after taping started. Sure, the biceps and the pecs are fucking huge, but there’s nothing quite as titillating or entrancing as egos this massive pounding into one another in a desperate attempt not to be humiliated.

One final, relatively minor point that I have to mention.  You know how a lot of homoerotic wrestlers, particularly newbies, are unable to contain their self-consciousness, how they tug and pull at their trunks to keep as much skin covered by the tiny swath of fabric that producers let them walk onto the mat with?  Well, Eagle does exactly the opposite.  He’s always tugging down at the top of his trunks.  It’s like he’s dying to show us how insanely tiny his muscled little waist is.  The relatively modest square cuts he’s in seem to persistently irritate him because they cover up too much of his perfectly unblemished, gorgeously bronzed skin. Every time he pulls them down, showing off a fraction of an inch more of his very lower abs, giving just a glimpse of his ripped, ridged hip flexors, I fucking love this dazzling beautiful kid a little more.  Get this beast out of square cuts and let his inner/outer exhibitionist fly free, Mr. Mike! Clearly both Eagle and I are just dying for him to show more skin.

I could get into celebrating Cyber Monday each year if there were more presents like this wrapped up and waiting for me.