You know how my heart beats harder in my chest when I get my first glance at a newbie. It’s all promise and potential at that point. In the opening moments of a debut, there’s as much my imagination of what could be at play as what is. For a little while, I can (and do, I guarantee you) overlay any homoerotic wrestling fantasy character over top of the initial impressions laid down by muscles and proportions and skin tone and hair and eyes and gear and vocal inflection. Not being cocky or anything, but I’d estimate 7 times out of 10 the fantasy I imagine for a brand-spanking newbie is more titillating than the reality. Newbies are typically a little rawer, more awkward, with less ring presence and focus on the combat narrative than they will be if they get promoted to sophomore status. But those 3 times out of 10, newbies wow me. They sell me. Occasionally, they even surprise me, surpassing my expectations and even hopes. So you can just imagine what a unique thrill it is to experience a double debut in which both newbies own it. The sensational final match on BG East’s recently released Ringwars 26 is just that, tossing the most rare combination of two newbies with the looks, the character development, and the ring skills to far surpass my hopes.

Alex already reviewed this match, and he pretty transparently signals that between Zip Zarella and Royce Perry, blond, blue eyed, mocha tanned Royce is his rookie crush.  I can totally see it. Fuck, this boy is so ridiculously pretty. Royce’s ass could very well be an early front runner for top contender spot with Kid Karisma by year’s end. And right out of the gate, he’s cocky, with astonishingly deep ring skills to back it up. He instantly crawls under his bro’s skin with a contemptuous smirk at Zip’s purple trunks. I’m not entirely sure what Royce’s hang up is with the purple trunks.  Maybe there’s a “purple is for sissies” implication, but it’s blessedly left unspoken. More likely, it’s just one young, ring-savvy pro wrestler getting under the skin of his competition with a bit of random hypercritical capriciousness.

It seems to work for Royce, at least early days. Zip is initially, verbally on the defensive about his choice of trunks. Having been psychologically knocked back on his heels, Royce opens up a magnificently brutal beat down. Damn, this kid looks like a Top Gun fighter pilot, he’s so insanely poised and steady. He latches hold on the advantage with speed and certainty, grinding gorgeous Zip to his knees with a wristlock before smoothly transitioning to a temple grinding side headlock. He yanks Zip around by his hair unselfconsciously and cinches tight a rear naked choke. “I… I can barely breathe!” Zip gasps. “Your arms are so big!” Royce doesn’t skip a beat. “Don’t I know it,” he replies. “The ladies love them.” After this match is over, I guarantee you the gentlemen do as well, Royce.

Royce’s cockiness and viciousness are really, really expertly developed. Brutal bodyscissors. Insulting slaps to the face. He ties Zip’s muscled arms into the ring ropes and reigns down chops and kicks to his tattooed pecs. “You’re a monster!” Zip snarls bitterly, clearly rethinking if what started as a good natured bro-down about the color of his trunks was a fucking seriously wrong turn in his life choices. Royce drives down vicious, pelting elbow drops, one after another drilling into Zip’s sternum. Pausing to flex his dangerously pretty biceps, Royce smirks, “All day. Every day.”

I so get it. Royce dishes up about 5 times the personality and 20 times the expertly sold pro offense of any newbie I can recall at this particular moment. His cornfed Midwestern boy heads to Cali to become a surfer stud look is insanely hot. He’s a headliner with a destiny for greatness, clearly. And yet, if forced to choose which of these delightful newbies I’d want to be cornerman for more, I’ve just got to say, I’m team Zip Zarella.

I’m sure the tats play into the complex formula of why it is I’d kick Royce to the curb for a chance to give Zip a baby oil soaked muscle rub down. Pretty much every time I mention tats, I get comments from guys who categorically hate them. Which I respect the hell out of. And completely disagree with.  Zip’s pec tats are ballsy and beautiful. They signal that this kid can fully commit. As dazzlingly pretty as Royce is, he’s white bread next to Zip’s gorgeous, illustrated muscles. It’s most definitely not only the ink that holds my attention on Zip’s body, despite the pretty pin-up boy strutting and smirking his way around the ring next to him. But for me, the tats are definitely value added.

And when Zip finally has enough of getting his sensationally hot ass bullied around the ring by this pretty boy sadist, I discover a couple dozen more reasons to be instantly infatuated with him. All of that pent up frustration from getting owned and humiliated the first five minutes or so power Zip up to absolutely ring Royce out in an exquisitely long bearhug. Royce collapses to the mat, and Zip smoothly goes down with him, maintaining every last ounce of pressure.  Sure, he probably wants to even the score. Zip surely wants to defend those purple trunks that got this whole thing started. But suddenly Zip reveals what he really wants most of all. “Scream!” he demands, rearranging Royce’s internal organs. “Fucking SCREAM!”

Just like Royce, Zip is Top Gun cocky and steady on the joystick. He slides seamlessly into a full nelson, mounting Royce’s back, pulling him up off the mat, and then slamming him face first into the canvas. “Right where I want you, you little monkey bitch!” Royce is bitter and furious on the receiving end, but Zip starts to sort of transcend the brawl. This hunk is an artist, people. “I’m going to tear you limb from limb…” he growls, “and look good doing it.” Holy shit. This “newbie” gets the very heart of homoerotic pro wrestling.

Like Alex, I was a little surprised that the obvious talents of these two phenomenal rookies turns on basically just that one plot twist. Royce rides roughshod for the first five minutes, and then Zip fucks him up relentlessly for the rest of the time. These two could easily have told a much more suspenseful tale. Personally, I choose to interpret the simplistic narrative as indication that Zip just fucking would not be denied after sucking on that mouthful of humiliation shoved down his throat for the first 5 minutes of his introduction to BG East fans. I know, I know. I’m sure it’s much less transparent, but as for me, I like to believe that Zip really is just that much meaner, stronger, and more vicious. He just fucking wanted it more, so when he was supposed to pass the baton back, the sensationally handsome devil just left Royce hanging there.

Those repeated face plants into the top turnbuckle drive me nuts. Both hunks sell them like seasoned pros. They hurt just watching them, but at the same time, trying to pound the pretty right off of Royce’s mug is just so sensationally right. Zip has his way with the blond beauty, long after he’s evened the score. He drops his knee repeatedly across Royce’s throat until the smart ass surfer can’t respond when Zip tauntingly asks, “Got anything else to say?” He doesn’t even stop when he’s sleepered the bronzed beefcake out cold. He just slaps him around until Royce rouses again (barely) and then torments and taunts him, pretend arm wrestling, fucking owning his dazed and confused hot self just for kicks.

Honestly, choosing favorites between two instant rock stars like Zip and Royce is next level shit. My recommendation is just to leave these things to the professional bloggers like me and Alex who have nothing better to do with our time than obsess over homoerotic wrestling new releases and catalog and evaluate every last inch of detail. Because the real winner here at the end of Ringwars 26 is BG East fans. These guys are high class, dazzlingly hot, and you can’t really go wrong popping one (or twenty) with your eyes fixed on either one of them. The distinctions between them are superficial and practically (if not statistically) insignificant.

Though BG East did opt to make my favorite, Zip, their Catalog 117.1 coverboy, relegating Royce’s flowing blond locks, perfect skin, square jaw and button nose to get buried under submenus. Team Zip clearly got the best of this magnificent double debut.