I like a hot muscleman who knows exactly what he’s packing. Sizzlingly sexy Stefan Ramos doesn’t just appreciate the accomplishment of having chiseled a crazy fit physique. He doesn’t just congratulate himself on the truly amazing aesthetics of his deeply creviced abs. Strumming his six-pack, unable to tear his eyes away from his own body, the impressive young rookie says what we’re all thinking, though not enough wrestlers quite so explicitly acknowledge. “Great abs,” he mutters, before adding enthusiastically, “They’re so hot!”
The real reveal in Muscle Domination Wrestling’s Six Pack Bash 7 new release is not the dizzyingly beautiful specimen of Stefan Ramos. It’s his opponent, none other than internet muscle worship phenom Steel Muscle God. I’ve been a fan of SMG for a long time. An occasional subscriber to his personal website (where Stefan makes appearances as “Mike”), I’ve followed the construction of his internet presence since he was just a sexy, snarling, indulgently self-adoring muscle man with a crazy hot accent and an occasional appearance on YouTube in a wrestling singlet (and specs!). I had the distinct pleasure of interviewing SMG for the pages of this blog in 2012. I spilled several quarts of ink musing about the relative merits of SMG and another muscle worship self-promoter, Adam400m, penning a multi-chapter homoerotic wrestling fiction series on the pages of this blog, letting my imagination sort out who would put all of his mouthwatering muscles to work and come out on top and in control. For the record, I always saw SMG putting the competitive English bodybuilder on his knees, banking on SMG’s more passionate enthusiasm for appealing to the wrestling fetish crowd that you an I belong to.
I floated the idea years ago that a homoerotic wrestling producer ought to invest in a plane ticket and get SMG on this side of the Atlantic (that’s the North American side, for those of you reading from elsewhere on the globe) to exploit his wrestling enthusiasm and mouthwatering muscles to their fullest. He’s made some wrestling work trips across the European Union to take big, hot muscle boys of all shapes and sizes, mostly drawn from other YouTube personalities. I personally have a serious hot spot for his most frequent on camera wrestling companion/opponent affectionally known simply as “Wimpy Boy.” But when MDW announced a few weeks back that they were working with SMG directly, I thought my long-time fantasy was about to be realized. Six Pack Bash 7 isn’t quite everything that I’d hoped for SMG’s debut appearance with a fully mobilized homoerotic wrestling company. But it is a distinct pleasure.
SMG is significantly less impressed with smoking hot Stefan’s abs than Stefan is. It’s long been SMG’s shtick, finding every other man inadequate in comparison to the Steel Muscle God’s physique. Truth be told, entirely objectively speaking (just kidding), Stefan is arguably a more impressive physical specimen than SMG. He’s taller, leaner, more cut. His legs and, in particular, his ass are fucking world class. Did I mention his ass? Holy fuck.
The rookie’s dizzying pretty quotient inspires a furious assault to his gut from SMG. Almost 24 minutes and pretty much a squash from start to finish, this match is a lot like SMG’s self-produced matches over the years. But if you’re familiar with those matches, this is probably good news for you, since you’ve followed his body of work in the past. In many ways, it’s classic SMG, really, with loads of sexy, growling trash talk, self-narrating the action, but even more, narrating his physical superiority. SMG fans dial in to watch him in equal parts for his beauty and his personality, which is a fantastic asset profile for a professional wrestler. In MDW’s Six Pack Bash 7, he delivers what he does best with perhaps a smidge more finesse, seemingly raising his game to live up to high expectations of Muscle Master Kevin back in Boston, or the wider audience of homoerotic wrestling fans this platform will introduce him to. Or, just maybe, sensationally sexy Stefan is genuinely making SMG feel a little… short… on muscle definition, proportion, skin tone. He doesn’t throw down something entirely novel that would really take SMG fans by surprise, but the marginal upping of SMG’s game makes me wonder about halfway through whether beautiful Stefan’s lovely narrow waist, amazingly muscled ass, and razor sharp cuts may be making the Steel Muscle God feel a little insecure by comparison. Did he bite off a little more than he could chew, debuting with a homoerotic wrestling company side by side with a froth-worthy Adonis like Stefan?
I must admit to being sorely disappointed that SMG’s MDW debut takes place not in MDW-land. I’m fairly confident that Stefan and the mat room in which they tussle are back in SMG’s backyard in Romania. Rather than integrating SMG into the world of MDW, this appears more of a franchising of MDW, putting Muscle Master Kevin’s imprimatur on a largely pre-existing script and cast from Europe. My fondest fantasy, of course, is seeing SMG climb into a pro wrestling ring and stand face to face with the likes of MMK or Damien Rush, or better yet, give him a week of training with an experienced wrestler like Morgan Cruise or Lon Dumont, or best of all, put him through full-on homoerotic wrestling bootcamp with Kid Leopard, Kid Vicious, and Sailor Rob. Yeah, film that, and I’ll buy two copies. And then line up the likes of Trey Dixon, Kayden Keller, Kid Karisma and Drake Marcos to really enable SMG to live into his fullest potential as a homoerotic wrestling steel muscle god.
What MDW does accomplish with their SMG franchise pilot is notable. The camera work and video quality is considerably higher than I ever remember seeing from SMG’s past wrestling exploits. Whoever is operating the camera has a sweet eye for it, zooming in to capture the intimacy of Stefan’s throbbing muscles quivering in SMG’s grasp. I personally find stationary cameras (which is what I’m used to from SMG’s body of work, though I admit it’s been quite a while since I sampled him) lacking, but a handheld can be even more distracting if the action isn’t framed skillfully, if the transitions from one perspective to another are too fast or jerky. The quality of Six Pack Bash 7 is high, though, making this definite value added for SMG fans longing to see his wrestling in a more professional light.
I’m also delighted to report that gorgeous Stefan sells like motherfucker! As much as I nurse a guilty little infatuation for SMG’s regular punching bag, Wimpy Boy, I fully admit that an SMG squash can feel a little tedious to me. Six Pack Bash 7 does not feel tedious at all, and I give jobber Stefan’s sell at least 75% credit for that. When SMG sucker punches him in the gut, the Adonis doesn’t just double over, he drops to a knee and chokes on the pain, sucking down air, reeling. When various parts of his body are locked up in the vice of SMG’s steel cabled thighs, the rookie jobber’s straining muscles and contorted face, paired perfectly with gasps and grunts and whimpers, are absolutely riveting. He looks truly stunned to be out muscled and so completely humiliated, which makes this genuinely work.
Well done to MDW for collaborating with a hard, hot fantasy man with a proven track record and an army of devotees. I have to think this is going to be mutually beneficial to both Muscle Master Kevin and SMG, introducing each other’s fan bases to a new potential outlet. Fans of mat wrestling muscle squashes, saddle up for this ride right away. Those with a little value added kink for hot wrestling hunks with sexy accents, run, do not walk, to download this beauty immediately. But the real winner here, as far as I’m concerned, is a certain breakout star muscleman with the body of a Greek god and the suffering sell of a much, much more experienced muscle jobber. If SMG isn’t ready to sign up for that week of homoerotic wrestling training with the pantheon of kingmakers that I mentioned earlier (and I wonder if he’d be willing to dip his foot into the vulnerability of honest to god give and take of a multidimensional homoerotic wrestling narrative), can I suggest that a certain silky smooth, deeply creviced, bulging, beautiful muscle jobber with a 27″ waist and stunningly shelved muscle ass would make an absolutely sensational addition to any homoerotic wrestling producer’s stable? Perhaps geography is just too big an obstacle to overcome, but I’ll count it a profound disappointment if I never see Stefan Ramos in a pro ring, dripping with sweat, muscled arms trapped in the ropes and shoulder blocked for days (naked) by an accomplished, sadistic hunk with an arsenal of pro wrestling and submission holds and just plain dirty tricks to make him choke on his own humiliation.