If you heard a collective gasp of shocked excitement about a week ago, it was me and a few hundred other homoerotic wrestling fans reacting to the news from the Arena that Brad Rochelle was going to star in a new release for BG East. Those full-throated shouts of near-ecstasy that you heard last Thursday were our reactions to Catalog 172 officially dropping, and seeing Brad returning to his coverboy status, standing alongside of Jonny Firestorm, who’s not coincidentally pointing at Brad’s gorgeous abs, that this decade or so later are still ripped hard enough to wash your laundry on. I can’t overstate how excited I am by The Comeback 3, and seeing the return of one of the first muscle hunk wrestlers I fell in virtual lust/love/infatuation, showing up at BG East at almost the same time that I was originally discovering the intoxicating and validating world of homoerotic wrestling videos. Just the anticipation and photos are so sensationally satisfying, that I have to admit that I was almost a little worried that the match very well might not be able to live up to my hopes for it. I’m sincerely pleased to share that it’s a fucking phenomenal match, showcasing the hot bodies, just a little larger than life personalities, and knee-bucklingly sexy wrestling style that BG East was the first to introduce to me, and is still producing so beautifully.

I’m not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse for the poor, gorgeous fantasyman, Kal Connor, that he’s making his debut at the same time that Brad is coming out of early retirement. I’m guessing that it’s awesome exposure for the new kid, being introduced to the BGE audience when a whole lot of homoerotic wrestling fans are tapping deep into nostalgia like this. But holy hell, the pretty boy is in the ring with Jonny Firestorm and Brad Rochelle! Fuck, seriously, those two superstars could upstage … fuck, I’m at a loss for a comparison big enough to approximate just how big Jonny and Brad’s presence is in the ring. So, let me make sure and give Kal credit where due, right at the start of this review. Namely… FUCK, this kid’s body makes me swoon! And he’s got the babyface to match his magnificent proportions and sculpted bulges. As one of my friends put it, Kal’s “wardrobe malfunction” (when Jonny is yanking him around by the front of his tiny trunks and Kal’s luggage completely spills out) instantly dials up the heat in this match. And the lucky unlucky kid’s astonishingly meaty glutes are displayed so perfectly in one severe wedgie after another. Of course, his still frames are fucking compelling. But holy hell, Kal legitimately wrestles, and holy hell, he SELLS!

In fact, the incredibly tasty newbie, who adorably calls himself “the heel” in this threesome, is more than Jonny can handle. He exploits cocky Jonny’s sloppy overconfidence just a few minutes into what was looking like it was going to be a total rookie wrecking. Kal grabs the bull by the horn and does NOT let up, absolutely pounding the shit out of Jonny and keeping his foot on the gas pedal the whole time. It reminds me of some seriously brilliant moments when Dio Characi was delighting in humiliating Jonny in front of a live audience at WrestleFest 4 last year. Only, Kal is about 30 pounds lighter than Dio, and, let’s face it, shouldn’t be a serious challenge for legendary heel. When the handsome kid snaps on a totally legit figure-4 leg lock and threatens to end Jonny’s infamous career then and there, at least it’s not another public humiliation for the notorious heel… until Brad walks in on the scene.

“What’s going on here!?” Brad’s first words back on the scene are thick with nuance. He’s in dark sunglasses and bright, metallic silver square cuts that showcase his gorgeous ass. I know it’s been at least 10 years, probably more, since he climbed into that ring with the cameras rolling, but fuck… he hasn’t missed a beat. Rewind back to the finale reckoning of The Contract 10, and fuck, if anything, Brad may look even better!

Serious Rochellophiles may remember that Jonny was reluctantly selling out his buddy Brad at the start of Contract 10. There’s an implication that they’ve buried the hatchet since their extremely hot and contentious first meeting in Contract 6. Apparently, the hint of a friendship between them wasn’t bullshit. Because 13 years later, Jonny hedged his bets when he was preparing to square off against the newest newbie, Kal, by calling up his buddy Brad to check in on him after the match had started, to make sure the winds were all blowing Jonny’s directions. The enemies-friends-enemies trope in professional wrestling is an oft-told story, but you know what? I actually totally buy it, that Jonny and Brad are buds. Not only have I seen recent photographic evidence that they enjoy beating up on a lucky hot, handsome muscle hunk together, but they are amazingly in sync when they seriously tuck in to picking apart this tasty rookie morsel. I mean, there’s some fun and funny chemistry when Brad is trying to “help” by yanking on Kal’s arms, which only has the effect of wrenching more brutally on that figure-4 leglock Jonny was already trapped in. But genuinely, Brad and Jonny are pretty fucking amazingly coordinated in their attack on Kal. If I’m being brutally honest with you, I don’t always get on board with a double-team like this, not because it can’t be hot, but because it’s often a little messy, a little bumbling with unequally yoked double-teamers. This match keeps me laughing, awestruck, and turned on from start to finish, mostly propelled by the magic of Jonny and Brad seriously sending what two synchronized hunks can do to an unexpecting lone opponent.

Honestly, there are too many sensationally high quality moments for me to do justice to them in this review. The holds that epitomize the magic that Brad and Jonny bring include a double-team Mexican ceiling hold that looks like an absolute house of cards, the heel team members each taking one of Kal’s arms and legs and hoisting him suspended above them. Seriously, I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen a regular Mexican ceiling hold blown, because it’s a fucking hard hold to apply, secure in place, and then maintain. The added complexity of having to have the entire thing coordinated between two hunks working over their prey seems like it is not something to be attempted by the faint of heart. And damn it all, Jonny and Brad pull it off and fucking own the hold (and Kal) with total command. It takes serious timing and skill. Brad is (still) over half a foot taller than Jonny, so they had to negotiate different lengths of limbs and centers of gravity. And then they just fucking hang him up like laundry on the line, flapping helplessly in the wind. Fucking gorgeous!

The other hold that’s just something I’ve only seen before in graphic art is this… what the fuck to even call this? Let’s just call it a wishbone muscle buster (someone will correct me and make sure to snort with contempt at my ignorance… go ahead). Kal is hanging upside down, draped between the heels, one shoulder resting on each of their shoulders. The bad boys grab him by the ankles and wrench his legs apart, and fuck does Kal scream in panic. Jonny suggests they make a wish, and you can see the terror make Kal’s taut hamstring quiver in response.

I’ve having trouble restraining myself from writing a 30-page essay on this match, but indulge me in just a couple more points that I want to celebrate. First of all, chemistry. I know I’ve already used the word, but I cannot say enough about how hilarious and spontaneous the chemistry is, particularly between Jonny and Brad in this match. There’s a moment when they’ve got a double team bow-and-arrow locked on, down on the mat. Each of them have an arm and a leg, and once again, they’re using the ripped-to-shreds hot rookie hunk like a wishbone. As far as that goes, definitely, it’s all good. It’s gorgeous and a study in complete ownership and savoring of suffering. Kal is screaming… SCREAMING. Brad and Jonny are stomping their heels into Kal’s side, jerking the poor stud’s arms and legs out of their joints like he’s being drawn and quartered. And Brad comments on how handsome young Kal is. “His face is kind of pretty,” Brad observes calmly, as Kal is screaming bloody murder. “His face feels like an affront to us,” Brad grows philosophical, ignoring Kal’s screeching, panicked submission. To rectify the situation, Jonny and Brad shift position, placing one boot each on either side of Kal’s face and smashing his once-pretty mug between the soles of their boots. “I don’t like handsome young men,” Brad barks louder, to be heard over the tortured screams. “They make me feel old and angry!” I fucking love that line on so many levels!!! But without waxing too philosophical right now, it’s a great example of the spontaneity and cleverness of Jonny and Brad, and, again, it’s just that much more perfect with Kal’s full-throttled sell of his demoralized, terrorized suffering.

I’ll try to wrap this up with just one last reflection on what I find super brilliant about The Comeback 3. From Kal’s adorable assertion that he’s going to be the heel, to Jonny getting seriously rocked, to one of the most standout babyface heroes of Greek tragedy/homoerotic wrestling licking his lips with delight over the suffering of a jobber, this entire thing is a sensational mind-fuck on classic wrestling tropes of heels, jobbers, and babyfaces. No one here can be easily reduced to the time honored, overly simplistic roles in classic professional wrestling. I don’t really watch a lot of mainstream pro wrestling for straight audiences these days (though I have a few YouTube infatuations from feds in other countries), but I believe the post-modern twist on these tropes is evident there as well, these days. But here, at BG East, in this match, for this audience, I think it poses even more provocative questions about the role of age and beauty in homoerotic wrestling (and homoerotic circles in general, really). It fucks with overly simple ideas of who’s a victim and who’s a bully, as well. The character arcs of Jonny and Brad, stretching over some 20 years, tell stories that much less ambitious or brilliant professional wrestling productions (especially those for straight audiences) just don’t even attempt, I think. I’m now infatuated with how that chemistry between frenemies plays out in real time, as the fraternity of homoerotic wrestling veterans builds ties that transcend on-camera rivalries, and then crash back into on-camera dramas separated by over a decade.

I walk away from The Comeback 3 absolutely fascinated by Jonny, the vulnerable heel, Kal, the devastatingly dangerous jobber, and Brad, the manically sadistic babyface hero. And then I push play again, because I fucking love this match!