If there was a breakout winner in the BG East Best of 2014 poll, I think it had to be Lorenzo “Jake” Lowe. LJL wasn’t on the radar in the individual categories, and yet starred in the best mat match, sexiest match, and best overall match of year. I remember when I first saw young LJL debut in Eli Black’s Wrestler Spotlight DVD. I made a comment to someone with insightful taste in homoerotic wrestling that I thought Victor Paz was the breakout newbie star of that DVD. No, I was firmly corrected, it was absolutely LJL (just LL, at that time), who was destined to hit it big. How right they were! Though I would still love to see much more of sizzling hot Victor…
Lorenzo “Jake’s” appeal is both obvious and subtle, I think. Boyishly handsome, lean and phenomenally limber, he’s a pleasure in still frame. And that ass is sizzlingly hot! But LJL’s charms really kick into high gear in motion. He has a calm, steady confidence about him. Before he makes a move, he telegraphs a calculating maturity that contrasts beautifully with his youthful suppleness. There’s no wasted motion, no prodigal showiness. The match begins and LJL punches his time card (and typically his opponent’s clock) and gets down to business.
In his most recent appearance taking on Tim Messina in Gazebo Grapplers 17, LJL gets down to business quickly and with devastating effect. His jungle boy loin cloth is sexy as hell, but inspires little more than contempt from hot stuff Messina. Tim has the edge in height and weight. As he looks down at the jungle boy bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of him, he clearly thinks he’s got this in the bag. Gimmicks are for chumps, right? If you need a leopard print loin cloth to sell yourself on the mat, you must be a jobber right? Wait, did I say leopard print loin cloth?
Poor, poor Tim Messina. He never seems to see it coming in any of his matches. Here again, he’s caught completely flat footed by the swarming offense of the jungle cat. LJL puts him down to the mat in about 3 seconds and chains together somewhere around 50 or so soul crushing, completely devastating offensive moves before Tim knows what’s hit him. LJL goes to town on the pro stud, slowly positioning his shocked opponent deeper and deeper inside his clutches, sliding him tighter and tighter until Tim’s got his lips pressed firmly between LJL’s lovely cheeks in sensationally sexy headscissors. There’s very little cocky self-congratulations about LJL in control. He’s much more like a chess master, visualizing offense four moves in advance, studying, calculating, recalibrating. But based on the massive helpings of humiliation he dishes out, it’s impossible to miss how pleased he is to prove to yet another bigger opponent that epically huge things can come in small packages.
Tim is no chump, however. Never a chump. I think I’ve read that he has indy pro wrestling experience, which may account for why he’s a bit flat footed to start on the mat in the gazebo. But he’s not about to allow a lightweight jungle boy squash him. Primarily fueled by brute force and bruised ego, he eventually drives LJL back on his heels and mounts a particularly hot offense of his own. Punishing LJL’s beautiful ass is Tim’s road to retribution. He knocks the air out of his opponent’s lungs and then exploits LJL’s vulnerability by draping the jungle stud over the gazebo railing and spanking his ass like the naughty, naughty boy his is! There’s a moment there where I think the indy pro with the bruised ego very well may just saddle up right then and there and ride that beautiful ass into the sunset. But then again, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tim go explicitly homoerotic in a match.
Tim clearly has a taste for upping the ante on when it comes to the humiliating stakes in this match, however. Rocked hard and rolled over to his back, LJL is simply outmuscled as the indy pro folds him over, mounts his face, and rips him apart at the groin. LJL fans who fantasize about everything hiding between the jungle boy’s legs should sit up and take notice, because Tim gives us an all access tour of every inch. He presses LJL to the limit. The jungle boy’s hamstrings quiver, his ankles shoved far outside the gazebo railings. I don’t know how homoerotically explicit Tim’s wrestling dreams may be, but there’s no denying he is getting off on absolutely owning LJL!
As is so often the case, Tim pushes his luck a bit too far bullying and lording it over LJL. Some carefully aimed low blows and a tidal wave of near-feral attacks put the jungle cat in charge again. Pissing off LJL is never a good idea. He makes Tim pay hard and brutally for escalating the war of humiliation, tying him into knots and wiping the mat with his wrung out carcass. Tim does not look like he gets off nearly so much on the receiving end of a total ass whooping as he did pitching. You can pretty much see the phrase, “not again,” written across his furrowed brow as LJL force feeds him the mat. Tim is just not as flexible as his jungle cat opponent, but LJL doesn’t give a shit. He drags every joint far beyond Tim’s tolerances, wrenching out tendon-snapping submissions and desperate screams for mercy. “Gimmick” my ass. There’s something primal and powerful and ripped from the pages of Edgar Rice Burroughs about the way LJL picks his opponent apart, piece by piece.
I’m still not sure how homoerotically-inclined Tim may be on any other day, but when this jungle boy lays him out and possesses him body and soul, he certainly doesn’t protest when LJL stretches out over top of him and locks lips. Not that it would matter if he tried to protest. He’s just no match for a 135 pound lightweight “kid” in a leopard print loin cloth. But yeah, Tim Messina isn’t exactly suffering in the end of getting schooled by LJL.