I love that moment when everything is possible, when there’s nothing but that intoxicating mix of potential and anticipation. Before wrestlers have spoken a word to each other, much less laid a hand on each other, there’s that moment when they’re checking each other out. They’re weighing their chances, perhaps picturing how they hope the match will play out, irresistibly considering the potential peril that lies ahead for them. For that brief moment, there are two stories being written, documenting the path to victory for both ambitious hunks. No one knows yet which story will be willed into existence. They can’t help but size each other up, comparing physiques, and gauging aptitude for speed and strength. Perhaps they can’t help but savor the anticipation of the taste of victory, taking a shot of adrenaline from just imagining controlling this opponent, taking possession of his body, doing absolutely whatever he wants if he beats this muscled adversary into submission.
Beginnings can be sexy. I hope for all of that and more for homoerotic wrestling fans at this dawn of a new year.