I often describe myself as “not a convention guy.” This characterization is based on having had to attend work-related conventions in my non-wrestling-related career, and pretty much hating them. I may have even feigned sickness halfway through one work convention in order to justify going home early. I was a super shy kid and grew into a relatively introverted adult who can, when needed, socialize and schmooze, but it’s not my happy place. Having arrived in Manhattan for my third Wrestlefest NYC and my fourth Wrestlefest overall (also, super fond memories of my first Wrestlefest in Toronto), I’m having to rethink that picture of myself I’ve had for decades of being “not a convention guy.” Maybe it was less about me just not liking the forced socialization of conventions, and more about me just not enjoying socializing with my non-wrestling-infatuated work colleagues. Because walking off the train and into my hotel and finding the lobby packed with dozens of wrestlers I’ve enjoyed watching on video and socializing with online and at past fests, it turns out, this is my happy place.
Making small talk doesn’t feel like a chore here as I’m mixing and mingling at Wrestlefest like it normally does. Running into wrestlers who read the blog is a pretty good icebreaker, of course, but I’m pretty sure it’s more than that. There isn’t that sense of pressure I often feel weighing me down in a lot of large social gatherings, where I’m constantly assessing how quickly I can bring a conversation to a close without seeming too rude. I love talking to all of these beautiful men as deep into wrestling as I am. I’m not worrying so much about being noticed checking out the bevvy of hot guys absolutely everywhere, because we’re all doing it, and it’s really the raison d’être of 500+ gay wrestlers assembling in one place, right? And I just don’t have to burn any of that mental energy I spend in other settings trying to not let my thoughts play across my face when I’m deep into picturing what the hot guys around me would look like wrestling. It’s literally why we’re all here.
Being at the Kick-Off Party last night sort of brought this home to me in a fresh way. Probably a dozen times or more I locked eyes with different guys as we acknowledged that we were both checking someone else out, and we just smiled in acknowledgement. And I didn’t have to try to manage anyone else’s implicit homophobia. No need to try to sooth anyone else’s sexual insecurities by me looking away and pretending I wasn’t just eye fucking Beau Jordan’s ass and picturing him wrestling in that mesh singlet he was wearing last night. We were all eye fucking Beau Jordan’s ass and picturing him wrestling in that mesh singlet. He was wearing that mesh singlet so that we’d all be eye fucking him and picturing him wrestling, I’m pretty sure. Of course, part of what I’m describing is just being in queer spaces, but I think it’s more than that. There are plenty of queer spaces that don’t feel at home to me like this does. I’ve almost reached the conclusion that it’s not that I’m socially inept and still carrying around that awkwardly shy kid from my childhood making me count the seconds until I can get out of mixing and mingling. I’ve just spent most of my life mixing and mingling with the wrong crowds.
I wonder how I might have a completely different impression of myself if I’d grown into myself under different social conditions – if I’d had access to spaces where what I was really passionate about was validated, rather than all those things that it was always assumed I should be passionate about, but really wasn’t (sports, cars, girls, etc.). I mean, I know that there are plenty of gay wrestlers into those other things in addition to wrestling, but just talking about myself here, I wonder if I’d have a whole different impression of myself and the way I navigate the world if, much earlier in life, I’d even known that spaces like Wrestlefest could exist in my world. I’ve written before about noticing my sense of self changing since getting involved in meet-up wrestling. I feel more attractive. More assertive Stronger and more capable in general. And last night at the Wrestlefest Kick-Off Party, it also occurred to me that I’m happy to be swimming in this sea of wrestlers of all shapes and sizes wearing anything everything from thongs and jock straps to trunks to ass-less singlets to street clothes. And, did I mention that fucking sexy mesh singlet that Beau Jordan wore?
Another thing I’ve learned about myself is that I never can remember to take pics at these shoulder-to-shoulder hot wrestler mixers. I just can’t bring myself to put a screen between me and the thrilling experience of being there and shouting over the din with friends and checking out this gorgeous assembly of wrestlers. I put out feelers to a few of those gorgeous wrestlers who did take pics, and I want to thank Barrett and Sir Dark for letting me drop them here to try to illustrate, just a little, the joy and drama and wave upon wave of wrestler eye candy that, it turns out, is my happy place.
Sidelineland 