Do you know who the fuck I am!?


Exploring UCW is like trying to enter a complex conversation already well underway.  UCW has a championship title, which is a bit of drama I love.  I enjoy keeping the competitive angle in even the most homoerotic of wrestling.  At the moment, Eli Black is the “All-Star Champion” of UCW, which is hardly surprising.  Eli  has always been up front about his designs to conquer homoerotic wrestling, not just by beating every opponent he can get his hands on, but by singlehandedly taking over the back offices as well.  Eli’s ambitions are matched only by his extreme dangerousness in combat.  Just ask Michael Hannigan and Johnny Deep.

Eli starts to clean house before the opening bell.

This is way back in match #332, mind you, but I’m still making my way through the UCW catalog, so excuse me for reporting old news.  I infer from the opening dialogue that Michael Hannigan was, at the time, the championship title holder.  I also surmise that guest “referee” Johnny Deep is a past opponent of Eli’s.  In short, from the start, Eli is staring down two opponents that despise him (the feelings are completely mutual), with the title belt on the line.  If it were any ordinary mortal, I’d say bad fucking luck, buddy.  But this is Eli we’re talking about, so let me turn my attention to Michael and Johnny when I say, bad fucking luck, buddies!

Trampling 69

Not really knowing the full blown characters in this mix (and they are definitely a set of characters!), I’m guessing that this was always going to turn nasty and unfair.  So perhaps it’s not so much that Eli deserves the blame for going dark first, as much as he did unto others before they had a chance to do unto him.  In the opening moments of the match, Eli absolutely devastates his actual opponent and the referee.  I mean, completely destroys them.  I’m discovering a hardcore intensity to UCW that Eli embodies beautifully, delivering strikes and take downs that don’t just level the other boys, but make me gasp as well. Damn, I’m pretty sure a couple minutes in that Eli is going to literally wipe the mat with both of these boys without breaking a sweat.

Eli has his hands full!

A word about the eye candy before I continue on with what moves me about the action.  Eli is pristinely Eli.  It’s not for naught that Eli keeps winning Best Abs at BG East.  As I watch him take on two punks simultaneously, I keep marveling at his incredible athleticism.  He’s whittled down to steel muscles and skin, although his ass (as Eli will be first to tell you) is a perfect balance of form and function.  The “ref” (in name only) Johnny Deep wears baggy shorts and a referee shirt throughout, so I can’t say anything about his bod.  He is a despicably punk ass bitch, however.  I’m just fine saying that.  He’s a vile opportunist, jumping in at only the moments when either 1) he can tip the tables in Michael’s favor, or 2) Eli is helpless to defend himself against a smirking, chuckling, sadistic interloper.  Michael Hannigan, however, is a bit of an epiphany for me.  He’s long and lean. Not nearly the world class leanness of Eli, of course, but a pretty thing to look at nonetheless.  But when he turns around… bam!  That ass!  Holy shit!  It may not be as brutally honed for combat as Eli’s, but it is a mouthwatering work of art.  Turn the champ back around and it’s impossible not to notice that he’s got a protruding package perfectly accentuated by his trunks.  His cheating viciousness doesn’t make me despise him as much as Johnny, and I’m just guessing that my infatuation with everything stuffed in Michael’s trunks are what is swaying my opinion.

Vile Johnny has his left hand full.

My favorite moments in the action include Eli grabbing Michael by the hair and flinging him face first into Johnny’s crotch.  I’m also infatuated with the sequence that starts with Michael and Johnny applying side-by-side single leg crabs on Eli, with vile Johnny adding insult to injury by reaching down and twisting the fuck out of Eli’s balls.  Eli screams and writhes, until suddenly he reaches back with both hands and simultaneously claws both tormentors by the balls, flipping them over to their backs.

Once again, Eli has his hands full.

Another highlight for me is when Michael is controlling Eli’s legs from behind and Johnny slides into place with glee to slap on a humiliating face-to-crotch head scissors.  The ref is quite literally in mid-laugh, with Eli’s face buried deep, when Johnny abruptly starts to scream in a panic.  Eli has chomped down, teaching the ref just how dangerous he can be!

Johnny Deep probably won’t try this hold on Eli again anytime soon.

The pace is exhausting. The hits are brutal. The egos are bashed and bloodied.  Those who follow UCW more closely than I have already know that the title does not change hand in this match (though since Eli is currently listed as the champ, I surmise it does eventually).  But this is all about the incredible sell of Eli Black, as far as I’m concerned.  “Do you not know who the fuck I am!?”  Eli screams near the end of the match after deftly dodging a standing drop kick from Michael.  “Are you fucking serious!?  You dumb piece of shit!”  This reminds me of a truism that Eli texted me once.  This is Eli Black’s world, bitches.  We’re just living in it.

Eli is assaulted from every angle.

Michael “wins” by having his unconscious body dragged on top of Eli by the ref for the 3-count after Johnny has, yet again, sucker punched Eli and knocked him out cold.  In other words, by the skin of their teeth, both Michael Hannigan and Johnny Deep were just barely able to squeak out a victory and escape entirely in tact.  The personalities are massive. The wrestling is over the top and deeply convincing at the same time. And I am totally provoked by all three of these game young studs, in different ways, for every second of the 28 minute match.

The “win.”

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