I get this match. Somehow, it seems like this match gets me. Skrapper is a stud that I’ll have more to say about soon, but today, this month, it’s Z-Man that I’m happily rolling back my prior bitchy criticisms of. He delivers powerful, personality-filled, ego-invested wrestling that I enjoyed without reservation. If I’ve ever offended Z-Man for being less than generous in the past, I’m contented to say that he’s made a believer out of me today. And if ever he feels the need to smack me around a little and lock my head between his fabulous legs and squeeze, I’ll certainly understand!
September saw a bumper crop of highly entertaining homoerotic wrestling releases! Occasionally, I find the field a bit sparse some months, but that’s not the case as I consider which new release featured the homoerotic wrestler who entertained and turned me on most. Whenever BG East releases a new catalog, they automatically become the wrestling to beat for my monthly title. Catalog 89 is no exception to that rule. From Florida Fights 3, Kirby Stone, Mitch Colby, and Cole Cassidy rise to the top of my affections. In fact, Kirby’s fierce beatdown and ownership over Reese Wells was unexpectedly moving, and I’m instantly craving more of the nasty babyface with that fantastic ass! The Science of Scissors pushes my buttons hard from start to finish, and Rio Garza, Jimmy Gee, Trent Blayze and Attila Dynasty could all equally merit the crown. Patrick Donovan’s Wrestler Spotlight makes me wonder how it’s possible that Patrick has never possessed one of my titles, not to mention the always enticing stylings of Tyrell Tomsen and Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!), who’s still chomping at Kid Karisma’s ass to muscle his way back into the top contender spot for my favorite homoerotic wrestler – non-pornboy division. Muscle god Dev Michaels, sexy rookie Lucky Loko, Jonny Firestorm (and especially his forearms) and Brook Stetson (both looking to claim the monthly title a second time) put in fabulous bids for September’s homoerotic wrestler of the month distinction. And still more from BG East, Cain McDonald’s amazingly hot ass, Z-Man’s coverboy pecs, and Skrapper’s intense, primal sexuality have all made me do a double take at Mat Scraps 1. And double rookie debut Magnus and Surge both put up completely competitive performances for Wrestle Worship 3. Rio Garza gets a second nod for his Can-Am appearance working out some long-built frustrations for that astonishingly long line of heel beatdowns, working over perpetually over-the-top Jobe Zander in Rio’s Revenge. From Rock Hard Wrestling, another two former homoerotic wrestler of the month title holders bring a fantastic ring battle to be considered this month: Jake Jenkins and Lucas Payne.
There were a lot of other releases in September that tempt me to make this long list even longer. But I’m drawing the line there. The rest, however delightful, are only also rans for my affections. That’s already 22 wrestlers working me hard, making this one of the tough, tough calls in the history of my homoerotic wrestlers of the month. Regular readers know that I frequently find myself moved most by the unconventional choices, the wrestlers who may not be the prettiest or appear to be the most popular in the discussion groups. With that caveat in mind, I’m boldly stepping forward, lifting the crown, and placing it squarely atop the shaggy brown mop of hair atop the head of…
Yes, perhaps my tastes this month uncharacteristically overlap with the majority (though I don’t think Neilsen’s actually has hard numbers on viewership of homoerotic wrestling). I’m not ashamed to say that the pretty, pretty, pretty (pretty, pretty, pretty) prettyboy Z-Man turned me on arguably the most for his Mat Scrap with one of my long-time, low burning crushes: Skrapper.
There’s always an inherent tension in picking a homoerotic wrestler of the month based on matches released in the prior month. For one thing, it takes two to tango, so to speak, so a particularly fantastic match is seldom built on the performance of just one wrestler. Mat Scraps 1 is a case in point. I’m turned on more and more every time I see Skrapper in action (keep your eyes open for more news on that front). His absolutely lovely delivery of both pain and humiliation on Z-Man is testimony first and foremost to his quickly evolving homoerotic wrestling expertise. He dishes out precisely measured portions of agony and ego-busting embarrassment, and he displays the coverboy’s picture perfect physique with incredible generosity. And I’ve got to say there’s something astonishingly sexy about Skrapper’s deep, bass voice. Not everyone who uses the word “Dude” with such frequency has the same effect on me, but that voice of his rumbles out of some deep, dark place where a seriously ferocious, primal lust to dominate lives.
So it should come as no surprise that Skrapper could just as easily been crowned this month for his work with Z-Man. However, it’s upon Z-Man that I’m placing the crown of laurel, because for a smokin’ hot hunk who’s always had a truck full of potential for homoerotic wrestling entertainment, for me this is the first time I’ve thought his delivery fully lived up to his potential. I’m being unkind when I say that I wasn’t always sure from Z-Man’s work with other companies whether he was burning at full wattage. There’s something bordering on thick-headed about his persona in the past, and pretty and smart turn me on about 100 times more than pretty and dumb. But I feel like in Mat Scraps, I got a glimpse of not just a pretty face (and ass, and pecs, and biceps, and ass, and ass…), but a clever hunk who can tell a story on the mats. He suffers exquisitely in Skrapper’s machinations, but Z-Man also remembers where they are in the plot. When Z-Man’s upper lip curls in fury as he rips apart Skrapper’s crotch like a Thanksgiving wishbone, the symmetry is beautiful. In almost the precise place and position in which Z-Man himself had been ripped apart earlier in the match, he gets his revenge on the wiry one.
It’s not as if I’ve ever not been turned on by Z-Man in still frame. His body is a work of art. His milky smooth skin stretched over an extraordinary gym body is captivating. But more than ever before, I believe Z-Man in Mat Scraps. I believe that he’s seriously pissed off that a skinny skater punk should dare to treat him with such contempt. I believe that he’s hurting, that those fists driving deep into the thick muscles of Z-Man’s pecs seriously smart. I believe that the Z-Man has some actual ego invested in meeting his opponent toe-to-toe, in not being made a fool of, in showing that he can corral the innate ham within and bring to bear all that strength, beauty, and yes, even smarts, to give every impression that he wants to be a competitor.