Ethan Andrews – Sidelineland

Rumble Again – The Bitter End

April 11, 2026April 11, 2026 wrestlebardLeave a comment

So there I was, packed like a sardine into a Manhattan hotel room with 30+ gorgeous wrestling hunks, trying my best to resist the impulse to start stroking and, instead, to keep the camera pointed at the action in the ring. Part 2 of Sir Dark’s Watchfighters Rumble Match opens with four hot hunks left from the first half of the field. Masked Machine, Red Adrian, Chris Collins, and Alex the Great were still in the running to have a shot at winning this non-stop line up of some of the hottest and fiercest wrestlers in attendance at Wrestlefest NYC. Then the 17th entrant struts onto the mat, and my ability to resist dropping the camera and just jerking off then and there was sorely tested. Fuck. Beau Fucking Jordan. FUCK, this man owns the full throttle erotic end of the homoerotic wrestling pool these days. He made it to the final three of Sir Dark’s Rumble Match 1 in Toronto last year, and holy fuck, I am constantly breathless watching him, waiting to see if someone’s going to be submitted by this stunning muscle man or, perhaps, face fucked by him. I’m totally on board, either way.

Beau is unhurried, always cocky. Just casually wraps up Alex the great, leans back against the wall, and crushes the fuck out of Alex with headscissors. Adrian and Chris double team Masked Machine, and again, I just have to say, Chris Collins is fucking fearless. If anyone is about to count out a lightweight in a rumble like this, I warn you: do not count out buck-and-a-quarter Chris Collins. The eighteenth entrant is already cuing up though, and the bodies are piling up, and you know the shit is about to get seriously crazy when Sir Dark finally clocks into the match. “Bitches, daddy’s here,” he screams, before launching himself like a missile onto Alex the Great’s gut while Beau keeps casually leaning back with Alex’ masked head stuck between his thighs.

As I mentioned in my review of the Rumble Match Part 1, one of the challenges I discovered in trying to video record in this context was proximity. There was just not a lot of room at the margins of the mats, so framing some wrestlers standing, others flat out on the mat, the action stretched from corner to corner, was just impossible. And Sir Dark is all over the place, joining double and triple teams, stomping and stretching, up and down. See my many prior comments about just how sexy it is watching the blinding chaos of Sir Dark doing what he does best. Also, I’m seriously, seriously, seriously having a hard time containing myself when Chris Collins decides he’s going to try to take out Beau. Fuck, now that’s a sensational pairing!

Chase Addams gets counted into the mix next. Chase looks fucking sensational. He immediately locks horns with Sir Dark, which seems like a combustible combination. The bitter scrap between the two of them fights for attention with Beau, casually cranking on face-to-crotch headscissors on Masked Machine, resting his head on his hands like this is a day at the beach. Honestly, I feel like Beau could sell tickets for that ride next year and have us lined up around the block.

The next competitor to clock in is SilverFlex. Talk about here comes hot daddy! He’s got history against Sir Dark, so maybe that explains why he launches in the rumble host without skipping a beat. There’s just so fucking much eye candy, there’s no way I can do it justice, but I will say that Chase sitting on Beau’s face in a foldover pin and spanking Beau’s magnificent ass is my new desktop wallpaper.

Next to clock in is Nick Lean. I’d seen this hottie before online, but suddenly I was bumping into him everywhere at Wrestlefest NYC, starting with watching him literally leap into the fray and joining SilverFlex in going to town on Sir Dark’s gut. It felt like maybe there were bragging rights to be had for being the one to knock the host out of his own rumble. Regardless, Nick Lean was fucking gorgeous, with this sly opportunism about him. He’s practically high-fiving Silverflex for their intense double-team on Sir Dark, and the next second, Nick has leapt on Silverflex’ back and rolled him into a rear naked choke. Also, I want Nick’s trunks. And his ass.

Next to clock into the rumble is Canadian pretty boy, Ryan Reilly. Fuck, he’s such a boy-next-door-waiting-to-get-owned. Honestly, I’m a little worried about him, but then again, I was a little worried about Chris Collins, and he was a fucking rabid ferret in this rumble earlier. Ryan immediately hones in on Nick, which makes total sense to me. There’s the chaos corner of the mat with Sir Dark pulling down his trunks and planting his naked ass on Chase’s face, and the calculated corner with SilverFlex and Ryan having their way with spankable Nick.

SleeperMuscle clocks into the rumble hot and furious. Shockingly, he’s puts Sir Dark out in an instant with a rear naked choke, and I’m making a note that I need to find out more about this doe-eyed daddy who can take out the likes of Sir Dark looking like he’s barely trying. English pretty boy MPJ is counted into the fray next, immediately sinking his claws into Chase, which I still think is, honestly, the best bet here. Chase is just fucking dangerous, and unless you’ve got some heavyweight hitters on the mat, these middleweights better keep their eye on Chase.

Well, speaking of heavyweight hitters, welcome to the fray The Swiss Menace, Leon Cyrus. Fuck, the center of gravity shifts in an instant when Leon takes the mat. There’s mayhem for a while with bodies rolling on top of one another like a boiling pot of water, and it’s hard to tell what’s happening to whom. Chase gets a face full of The Swiss Menace’s ass, though, and Leon clearly sets his sites on taking out the perennial badboy.

Entrant #26 into the rumble is a quickly growing obsession for me, AlexxWrestler. I named AlexxWrestler my pick for best legs of 2025, but this was the first time I’ve ever seen him in person. I got to see the incredibly sexy stud sans mask before the rumble started, and holy fuck, this guy is drop dead gorgeous. Hollywood gorgeous. Honestly, I’m now suspecting he wears a mask just to try to be fair to his opponents who would get completely distracted by his devastating good looks. Of course, with the mask on, he completely devastates opponents with that fucking gorgeous body and, in particular, those luscious, award winning legs. And, true to form, within seconds he’s got MPJ’s face buried in his ass in figure-4 headscissors, and there’s just no coming back from that. Fuuuuck, AlexxWrestler tauntingly flexes his glutes, cranking up the pressure and making MPJ’s adorable face flush beet red. Lucky fucker. Just to drive me completely fucking crazy, he then sits on MPJ’s face and gives himself a wedgie to really bury the Brit’s nose up there deep. Holy. Fuck.

Ronin clocks in right around the time that MPJ and Nick Lean have to tap out. So, there’s a sudden shift in momentum, with AlexxWrestler, Ryan, and Ronin only possibly managing a counterbalance to Leon’s dominating size advantage. There’s an attempt at ganging up on the mighty Swiss beast, but he’s too skilled, too strong, and just to fucking big for them to handle. That is, until Sadistic Sid Shaw clocks in, and immediately sizes up the biggest threat on the match. Sid makes pretty short work of The Swiss Menace and in the waning minutes of the rumble, I’ve got to think he could be the bad ass to beat, as he and Ronin double team drop-dead gorgeous AlexxWrestler.

Pot-stirrer Ethan Axel Andrews stomps onto the mat with something to say about that, though. It seems like just a minute later, Tattooed Menace clocks in like he’s hot on Ethan’s tail, and true enough, he launches into Ethan like Ethan had stolen his yogurt from the lunchroom fridge.

Honestly, I was there, and at this point I’m thinking, how many more stars in the wrestling sky can there be to count into this bedlam? Well, welcome Ben Monaco as rumble entrant #31 (or so… I’ve seriously lost count). Again, I’m sort of fascinated that Ben bee-lines directly onto Ethan. Like, he sort of shoves everyone else out of the way. Was Ethan talking shit and pissing guys off in the waiting area, or something? Tattoed Menace and Ronin wishbone Sid, and then Ben and Ethan recalculate the odds for a four-on-one bid to knock Sid out of the fray.

The lucky last entrant to the rumble is Rocko Mortis. Rocko is always a wild card, right? But coming in fresh as a daisy after 31 wrestlers have torn into each other before you has got to put you in the pole position for winning this whole wild ride, right? As I mentioned in my review of Rocko’s tag team match at Wrestlefest Live, which happened the following day after the rumble, Rocko is another chaos demon that brings the unhinged and unexpected. The final five go at each other with abandon. You can practically taste the excitement as they work to clear the table until the rumble title is going to go to just one of two remaining hopefuls.

The finale has an old school vs new school feel to it that’s mean and raw with the final two competitors beating the shit out of each other for the last 3 minutes. Who do you think won? Who do you think ought to have won? Who do you absolutely have to see more of, now that you’ve savored this massive sampler plate of homoerotic wrestling talent bearing down on each other for nearly an hour? The scope of this somehow amazes me even more, now that I’m watching the recording, than it did when I was standing right there with camera in hand. One wrestler in the mix made a comment to me afterward, that getting all of these men on board for this ambitious project is a testimony to the sincere respect and affection so many have for Sir Dark. I saw that, as well as a ton of affection pretty much all of these guys have for each other and the joy of suiting up and going at each other.

Check it out. The entire two-part rumble is sensational and sexy and a pure showcase of homoerotic wrestling talent that deserves to be celebrated!

Wrestlefest Live – 2026

February 28, 2026 wrestlebard4 Comments

As I mentioned in my last post, this year at Wrestlefest NYC I enjoyed (and was only slightly terrified of) getting to experience what it was like being behind the camera, recording some incredibly hot homoerotic wrestling content. I’ve been a consumer of homoerotic wrestling for so long that being literally behind the camera put me through some fascinating mental gymnastics that made me think about my relationship to homoerotic wrestling content in a new way. Not to get too existential here, but being the one pointing the camera has made me think about myself and my relationship to what turns me on about wrestling just a little differently.

Last Year’s Hottie Ring Announcer for Wrestlefest Live 2025

If recording homoerotic wrestling content was an exercise in mental gymnastics, Wrestlefest Live this year was nothing short of a mindfuck for me. In a good way. Probably. Mostly. Wrestlefest maven Scooter approached me a couple of months ago to feel out if I might be up for being ring announcer. My almost immediate answer was yes, and then a couple of hours later, I was suddenly questioning what the fuck I’d just gotten myself into. I mean, I’ve watched enough wrestling to be familiar with the role of a ring announcer. But, then again, have I ever actually, really paid attention to what a ring announcer does? Honestly, when a ring announcer is doing his thing, I’m mostly just cranking up my horny heat in anticipation of the match to come, right? Fuck, I should’ve paid more attention! I snapped a dozen pics of last year’s ring announcer at Wrestlefest Live 2025, so you’d think I was paying attention then. But no, I was just crushing on the hot ring announcer.

My only other time doing anything remotely like this was co-hosting the Gay Wrestling History panel event at Wrestlefest two years. That time, I had the legendary Bob Wood to lean on as co-host, though, and it was mostly moderating a lot of talking and reminiscing, rather than hyping up a hungry crowd. For Live this year, I had an outline of the matches from the event organizer, KC Ryder. I had the list of who’s wrestling in which matches. I had a few announcements to make at the beginning, a few people to thank at the end. It sounds straightforward, right?

Holy fuck, it was barely contained chaos! I was chatting with BG East’s Kid Vicious afterward who assured me that putting on a show like this is always this wild and improvised with a thousand last second details to wrangle into one event narrative. And that’s definitely what this was like. An hour before the event started, I was in the dressing room with all of the wrestlers trying to take down details of exactly how they’d like to be introduced, finding out if there were any important beats to plan for. Holy fuck, just try to imagine me, one of the most notorious homoerotic wrestling-infatuated people you’ve ever read, trying to stay on task surrounded by about 25 smoking hot wrestlers in various states of undress. I’m still not sure if that’s my idea of heaven or hell. There was one classic moment where I was trying to write down information on how Beau Jordan and Ben Monaco preferred me to introduce them before their match. I’m assuming I was probably staring, glassy-eyed, at Beau’s bare, luscious pecs, because he abruptly grabbed my pen, took my paper, and wrote it down himself. I mean, he wasn’t being a dick about it. At all. It had more the feel of “Oh, you poor, completely overwhelmed walking hard-on, let me help you out.”

Beau Jordan knows I’m not looking at his eyes

Actually, the spirit of pitching in and helping out was everywhere. Of course, this room was packed with massive muscles and even bigger egos that were going to climb into the ring later that evening and tear into one another in a bid to come out victorious, but there was a whole fucking lot of cooperation and collaboration required by everyone to just get to that stage in the first place. Like, when I was getting down the details to introduce Kayden Keller’s handicap match against both TK Wu and Freddy Campbell… I could be misremembering, but I think it was Kayden’s suggestion to announce the team of TK and Freddy by both their combined weight and combined height, which was almost certainly my funniest line in the ring that night. Everyone was pitching in ideas to put a little polish on this very underground event in order to make it shine. There was just a ton of earnest respect for professional wrestling in that dressing room. Everyone was there, fit as fuck, and even with some occasional pre-show nerves in evidence, absolutely everyone focused like a laser on putting on a phenomenal event to entertain an appreciative audience.

Being ring announcer made this completely different from my experience of attending Wrestlefest Live the previous two years. For one thing, I didn’t get to enjoy the wrestling itself nearly as much. As soon as one match started, I was checking my notes about what happens next in the show. Not that I didn’t get to watch some. I’ve absolutely got to download these matches the minute they hit Watchfighters, because what I did get to watch, it was hot and intense and all-in entertaining. But I dialed in absolutely every ounce of my attention just for that minute or so before each match when I was in the ring, trying read my scrawled handwriting to get the intros right, trying not to look like as nervous as I felt, trying to remember when to wait for each wrestler’s ring entrance. And just when I would think I’ve got a grip on this thing, someone improvises or plans change. Kirk Donahue (that sexy bastard) rips the microphone out of my hand before I can introduce his opponent. Sir Dark grabs me by the face and plants a kiss on my mouth as he and Rick Roma are pumping up the crowd before their tag team match. KC Ryder pulls me to the side to give me a surprise announcement to make just before intermission. Sir Dark grabs me by the face an plants a kiss on my mouth. Did I mention that one already? Fuck!

There’s no way I can try to do justice to the hot wrestling, so I’ll save a full set of reviews for when I can watch the matches once they’re released. But I can share some blurry, impressionistic flashes of what I experienced when I was tearing my eyes away from my notes to watch the show. Like, in the opening four-way match (Ty Alexander vs Pup Leopard vs Sid Shaw vs Spenser Locke), the choreography of four fierce men tearing into each other and in the din and chaos, crafting these unmistakable characters for absolutely everyone to read. I mean, Ty Alexander was Ty, right? Self-obsessed almost to the point of comical if it weren’t for him delivering some of the biggest hits on opponents of the evening. Spenser Locke was the overly earnest football jock punch-drunk on adrenaline and getting his bell rung. Pup Leopard somehow was immediately the babyface hero holding the entire audience in the palm of his paw. And Sadistic Sid Shaw was that fucking mountain of intensity and muscle that always looks like he’s about to bulldoze everyone and bury them under 10 inches of asphalt.

I probably saw more of the second match than any of the others, because it was legitimately a rip-n-strip match that went all the way and, most importantly for my tastes, kept going! I announced the rules, of course (thanks to Beau patiently writing them down for me), so I knew someone was going to be naked and defeated before this one was over with. But intellectually knowing that’s coming is just a whole different experience than watching the gear come off and these two gorgeous beefcakes suddenly wearing nothing but boots and the magnificent muscles the homoerotic wrestling gods blessed them with. Like, even I didn’t really know if this was just a tease. Hell, Ben came out interrupting me when I introduced him, in street clothes, saying he’d thought better of the match stipulations and was backing out. But what I loved even more than that these guys literally just put it all right out there for everyone to see, was that they kept wrestling! The brutal pro wrestling punishment continued, indulgently naked and unselfconscious. The fact that the ref, who was last year’s ring announcer who I crushed on, also lost his shirt and got into the action only made me love this match even more.

There was some super fun tinkering with tropes in the tag team match between Sir Dark/Rick Roma and Rocko Mortis/Dash Halley. Have I mentioned Sir Dark planted a kiss on me at the beginning of that match? Honestly, quite a bit after that was a haze for me, but I absolutely loved the storytelling. “From Italy (Sir Dark) and Little Italy (Rick Roma) and weighing in at exactly the right amount of marinara sauce….” The surprise babyface heroes in this match were fucking on fire. Give me a bold type and underline babyface who pounds his crotch into his opponent’s dazed face, and I’m completely sold! Rocko and Dash as goth baseball playing zombies made for a pitch perfect contrast with their crowd-pleasing opponents, and the tension in that divide between Team Vendetta and The Gothletes was sensationally ripe for homoerotic pro wrestling melodrama done right.

Wild Man Dick Clayton punished The Handsome Strangler hard

The match just before intermission was sponsored by Cole Cassidy and his Weekend Wrestling operation, pitting Wild Man Dick Clayton against the legendary erotic scamp, the Handsome Strangler. Fuck, trying not to eye fuck those two guys in the dressing room was nothing short of torture. So, I happily eye fucked the fuck out of them along with everyone in the audience when they climbed into the ring for their match. But it was the special guest referee for this match that took my breath away: Elite Eliot. I have obsessed over Eliot for years. His live match against Zip Zarella for BG East’s first Wrestling with Pride has gotten me off more times that I could possibly count. I think the wrestling was hot and beautifully executed, but no shit, I couldn’t say definitively for exactly three reasons. One: Wild Man Dick Clayton’s ass in that loin cloth. Two: Handsome Strangler’s mouthwatering pecs. And, three: Elite Eliot hog-tied in the middle of the ring, left for fans (and a ring announcer) to take selfies with at intermission.

I was first in line during the intermission to take a selfie with hog tied hottie Elite Eliot

After the intermission there came my funniest line of the night introducing TK Wu and Freddy Campbell squaring off against Kayden Keller. That vibe of the terminator taking out two out-matched pretty boys landed beautifully. There was a lot of painting outside the lines throughout most of the matches, but the adrenaline rush of watching mighty Kayden go on a rampage and tombstone fucking everyone, including the ref (MPJ) had this sensational off-the-rails feel to it. In fact, I wasn’t really sure how to handle my ring announcer duties at the end of this one, with the ring littered with knocked out wrestlers several minutes after the bell had been rung.

The penultimate match of the show was such a fucking crowd pleaser. The promotional material for the BG East sponsored match had been teasing Kirk Donahue taking on a “mystery opponent’ for months. The posters just showed a silhouette of hot muscle hunk next to Kirk’s smirking double bicep. I heard so much talk about this in the weeks leading up to the event! I heard more than a few fans grousing about the gimmick being overdone. Why the mystery? And of course, every one of those conversations was an answer to that very question. I had fans swear to me that they had the inside scoop on who the mystery opponent was, and, for the record, everyone who shared their theory about who he was was incorrect. So, I had the distinct honor of getting to be the one to put the mystery to rest when I introduced the triumphant return to the ring of none other than Z-Man! A lot of us have followed on social media news of Z-Man having been seriously injured in an accident a while back. He’s got some seriously impressive scars that hint at the hell he’s been through. But holy fuck, that man is never in anything but pristine and perfected condition! He is so fucking gorgeous and in such phenomenal shape. I don’t actually know what the extent of his injuries were, but I was cheering him on along with absolutely everyone in the place as he went toe-to-toe with dastardly Kirk Donahue. Fuck, the drama was breathtaking. You could hear the collective gasps and tense holding of everyone’s breath as Z-Man and Kirk battled back and forth. And when Z-Man absolutely clawed his way to victory on nothing but his drop dead gorgeous looks, stubbornness, and the flood of good will pouring down on him from this roaring and appreciative audience, the rafters were shaking with excitement.

The final match of the evening was a 7-man elimination match for the Wrestlefest Live championship belt, and it nearly broke me. I mean, it was designed to be barely contained chaos, so what was delivered was exactly as ordered. But my responsibilities as ring announcer for this particular match only actually made sense to me about 10 minutes before the match started. I had seven staggered ring introductions to make, starting with the stunning Chase Addams squaring off against perennial favorite Ethan Axel Andrews. Straightforward enough. I think I nailed that part. But then, it got way more complex. Not to pull back the curtain too much on the production side of things, let me just say that it was solely up to me to start the countdown every couple of minutes (or so) before announcing the next entrant. I know I fucked up Leon Cyrus’ entrance, damn it. I forgot to actually announce his sensational moniker, “the Swiss Menace.” I think I got the rest of the intros right. I’m pretty sure I announced at least one elimination in error, but despite the ref arguing with me, somehow I had the final word. Fuck, if I’d known earlier the power I held! I absolutely loved how this match played out, with some of my very favorite people in homoerotic wrestling (Lobo Gris, Tarz Lando, Mickey Knoxx, and Bobby Carter) commanding the spotlight to the extremely climactic end. Also, a quick shout out to referee Chris Collins for seeming almost as overwhelmed as I felt, while looking sexy as fuck… and for single-handedly being responsible for illegally eliminating one of the final three competitors. Fuck, I love pro wrestling melodrama!

Again, this post is all about me. Please stay tuned for a more full-throated send up of the sensational matches that went down at Wrestlefest Live 2026 once they’re available for us all to enjoy on video. But just one last observation from my extremely subjective perspective: as phenomenal as the wrestlers were, and as much work was put into putting on this incredibly fun show behind the scenes, a key ingredient that was absolutely essential to making it work was the fantastic audience. I don’t just mean this as a cliché. Genuinely, it takes an audience of earnest wrestling fans like this to land this plane as spectacularly as this one landed. These wrestlers literally bared it all, they put their bodies and egos and dignity on the line, and there wasn’t a cynical snark the entire three hours. They poured a ton of love and respect onto absolutely everyone, and the sum total of the event was so much more than any one incredible match, more than any particularly impressive move, more than all of the hot bodies combined, even. It wasn’t just fun wrestling. It was an event, and everyone showed up for it, and that made it fucking fantastic.

I think that’s a bit of what I’m taking away from this experience… none of us are “just” seat warmers in this homoerotic wrestling community. We’re all participants. We’re all co-creating the edges and the heart of what it means to be passionate about homoerotic wrestling, as wrestlers, as content creators, holding the cameras, producing events, buying hot products, cheering for our favorites, and, yes, even ring announcing. Homoerotic wrestling isn’t something just happening on the other side of our screens, or only inside the ring with us merely spectators on the sidelines. We are, all of us, creating this community, this economy, and this fraternity out of our shared passion and investment of ourselves in all our varied ways. Keep up the amazing work, my friends!

Happy Place

February 14, 2026 wrestlebard6 Comments

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.

Mayhem

September 5, 2025September 17, 2025 wrestlebard1 Comment

Watching Watchfighters Rumble Match – Part 1 gives me so many vibes of being at a Wrestlefest. Actually, it specifically gives me vibes of being at Wrestlefest Canada. I swear I stayed in that hotel room! Well, I’m pretty sure it’s at the hotel I stayed at when I enjoyed attending WF Canada three summers ago. But the vibes are about a lot more than the accommodations. There’s this serendipity about the pop-up community that forms at a fest. My best analogy is to summer camp, where you look forward to getting thrown into this community of people outside of your regular life, and the proximity and shared interests and just everyone stepping outside their lives and into this chosen community creates this incredibly fun esprit de corps. The (no shit) 13 wrestlers who join Sir Dark’s rumble in WF Rumble Match – Part 1 all look like they’re having a fucking blast.

It was at Wrestlefest Canada I experienced my first of many group mat matches. The rumble has all of those elements, but bigger and more intense and with an even more out of control feel of a melee. The premise is, like a pro wrestling rumble, a new wrestler is added to the mix every so often, and wrestlers are eliminated when they submit. And that’s it. Like, that’s all the rules. So the wrestling drama depends entirely on the luck of the draw, pacing, and the fickle alliances and betrayals that play out depending on who happens to be on the mat at any given time. It’s absolute chaos AND it’s got this compelling momentum that I can’t take my eyes off of.

I’m tuned in for my favorites featured, of course. Sir Dark appears to be the mastermind of the mayhem, which, honestly, is so on brand. If you could bottle chaos, I think he’d guzzle it daily. He’s got this constant edge of unpredictability about him, I think showcased never more clearly than in his Wrestlefest Live match last February in NYC. But he’s souped up and riding the feral edge about him as this rumble starts up, but holy shit is he in there with the yin to his yang. Ethan Axel Andrews is the other wrestler to kick off the Rumble, and he’s more like a cruise missile. Their opening scrap against each other is one of the most intense of the next 20 minutes, which sort of makes sense because all their attention is on each other, and their both fresh and primed. Ethan is rolling, exploiting his size advantage for a bit when he latches on a leglock and threatens to snap the Dark one at the knee. Sir Dark screams at him with total bile and adrenaline, “Fuck off, NO!” Fuck, that guy rocks me.

Every minute (or so, the timing isn’t entirely precise), a countdown signals the arrival of a new wrestler to join the fray. In these raucous 20 minutes, favorite wrestlers of mine show up in the mix and I’m unable to stop myself from cheering at my screen. Mickey Knoxx comes in hot, flexing and strutting and wasting no time tearing into Feroce in a completely unfair double team with Demonflex. Isaac Andrews comes in looking gorgeous as fuck with his hairy chest and beard. Kayden Keller and Chase Addams turn the heat way, way up when they take each take their turns as the fresh man diving into the mix.

Just like it works at a fest, though, there are also these unexpected finds, wrestlers I don’t think I’ve ever seen before but once I do, I can’t take my eyes off of them. The fourth entrant is introduced as Mischief. He’s adorable, with this gentle giant feel about him as he strides onto the mat. And then, holy fuck, there’s nothing gentle about Mischief! The guy is grinning ear to ear the entire time, so transparently loving that uncorked chaos Sir Dark is serving up. Two things in particular about Mischief make me swoon. One is just how much delight he takes in muscle bullying a smaller opponent. No apologies. No giving a little guy a fighting chance. He just licks his lips and tucks in to the bite sized morsels with relish. The other thing that catches my eye and turns me on about Mischief is this go to move he has of buttoning an opponent up and just clamping his huge hand over the guy’s face and refusing to let the fucker breathe. He does that more than once, and it’s such a fucking BOSS move.

There are some other new-to-me wrestlers that instantly impress me. I’ve seen Feroce DeLeon on Watchfighters before, but I was not expecting just how much absolute abuse his hot body can soak up. I met Kevin Nova at that fest in Toronto a couple of years ago, and he’s buffed up and gotten super aggressive in a way that makes him fit right into this wild melee. I’ve followed Demonflex on social media for what seems like forever. We’ve had near-misses at scheduling a 1:1 for the two of us, and watching how much fun he has swimming in this chaos makes me want to make sure that meet up happens soon. Veneno is this tasty little masked scrapper who looks like he should get submitted super fast based on nothing but size, but there’s a short king under that mask who is taking on everyone and in the center of the fray at all times and holding his own like a terrier. For some reason I think I have seen Neil Rey somewhere, but I’m not placing him, but he’s fascinating to watch come in and join this big boy gang triple teaming the little guy on the mat at the time.

That little guy is the other new-to-me wrestler epiphany that caught my attention out of everything happening at once in the maelstrom. Honestly, I was worried about pretty boy B Sprite when he first showed up. I mean, this kid is pretty. Too pretty, and lithe, and lean, and he ends up in the turbulent waters right when there’s the likes of big, burly bad asses ripping into each other like Isaac and Kayden and Neil. I have to immediately reassess lovely B Sprite, though, when he doesn’t skip a beat, and half a second after stepping onto the mat he’s got a claw working on twisting Mickey’s balls off. Lovely B Sprite is fucking mean and skilled, and sure, maybe I’m just identifying with him because he goes after Mickey like he’s got blinders on.

Writing a review of the Rumble is a bit like trying to film it, I suspect. There’s just so many mini-dramas playing out, it’s impossible to see them all in one viewing. Actually, it’s impossible to see them all upon repeated viewings, because the camera misses some of the action on one side the mat while documenting the grappling on the other side of the mat. Like, I’m not sure what drove terrier-like Veneno to actually submit, because the camera and I were enthralled with watching Kayden lift Mickey by the balls, cradling the wailing Canadian across his chest, and then slamming Mickey down in a brutal gut buster. If you like clean edges and drawing within the lines, the Rumble may not be for you, because it’s super raw and spontaneous and messy. And I’m convinced every single one of those wrestlers is having an absolute blast because he loves wrestling, and he’s exhilarated by the chaotic brew Sir Dark is serving on tap.

I’m going to towel off and settle in for the Rumble part 2, now. I had no idea this was exactly the international wrestling drama I needed to take my mind off the end times!

Wrestlefest Live – 2025

February 26, 2025March 4, 2025 wrestlebard6 Comments

Like Wrestlefest itself, Wrestlefest Live grew in leaps and bounds this year. I attended WF Live last year, and it was an awesome, fascinating, intense, and immensely entertaining event. Last year, the Live show had the feel of getting smuggled into a speakeasy during prohibition. We were escorted, one elevator-full of wrestling fans at a time, to the undisclosed location. Seating was limited in a sparse, Manhattan loft space on the upper floor of a high rise. It was mat wrestling in front of an intimately small but enthusiastic crowd. The matches were bigger than the setting, really, with some fantastic, high profile wrestlers from the underground scene, stars of both self-published and corporately produced homoerotic wrestling. Seated inches away from match after match of sizzling hot bodies grappling for dominance was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before, and when the box office opened online for the show this year, I eagerly snatched mine up hours after they went on sale, which turned out to be a good thing, since the show sold out in about 12 hours.

Wrestlefest Live this year was billed as more. More matches, a lot more wrestlers (accounting for tag teams, celebrity refs, and unannounced ring takeovers, turned out to be A LOT), but the one element that piqued my interest most was the promise of a full blown pro wrestling show in a ring. I was in suspense, wondering how they’d pull this off, knowing it was set in the same club where the kickoff party had occurred the night before (see my account of drooling over Dio Characi there). I tried to moderate my expectations, frankly. I was picturing the possibility of sort of a backyard wrestling feel, but in this case, in the backroom of Red Eye. Let me be clear, I admire the fuck out of backyard wrestling, with the young wrestling enthusiasts who improvise a pro wrestling setting on the cheap in order to live out (and record and share) their fantasies of being larger than life pro wrestlers like the ones they love watching on TV. Sometimes the “ring” is a trampoline or maybe just a few traffic cones and an unsecured rope marking the imaginary boundaries of a ring. Seriously, I’ve enjoyed watching some backyard wrestling from time to time on YouTube, when I find some hot young men going all in for the raw love of it. However, I wondered if Wrestlefest Live this year might similarly require the audience to imagine more than it literally delivered, sort of like backyard wrestling enthusiasts with the passion, if not the actual equipment and budget, of indy pro wrestling.

But, whoa. Like, WHOA! This was a legit show, the actual incarnation of unapologetic pro wrestling for a homoerotic wrestling audience that I’ve always fantasized about but never quite believed I’d get to witness. Sometime between the end of the kick-off party and the start of the show, an army of elves (who I’ve since learned were primarily made of up many of the wrestlers in the show) literally assembled a pro wrestling ring in the back room of the club. It took up about 80% of the floor space, and they packed in the 70 or 80 of us who purchased tickets into the remaining 20%. You know how eager I was for this, considering I gave up the opportunity to keep chatting up Ben Monaco, Beau Jordan, and Mickey Knoxx at the bar to elbow my way to near the front of the line as soon as the doors opened. I scored a ringside seat near the corner of the ring where the wrestlers made their entrances. I mean, everyone had an up close and incredible view, but fuck, I could literally reach out and touch the ring. When Mickey Knoxx made his ring entrance with Rocko Mortis for their tag team match, he peeled off his top and tossed it out of the ring at my feet (I haven’t asked Mickey, but I prefer to believe it was intentional). Moments later, when their opponents, Beau Jordan and pinch-hitter Seon Cruz took the ring, Beau ripped off his tear-away stripper pants and also tossed them down right in front of me (again, I tell myself it was an intentional bit of titillation especially for me). Like, fuck, I was right fucking there! When Sid Shaw and Zach Reno’s off-the-rails match spilled out of the ring, it was nearly in my lap. For a couple of seconds, Sid had a hold of my shoulder and was trying to climb over me and my buddy next to me because sensationally sexy lightweight Zach was about to thrash the living shit out of him. Fuck, I was right there, and we were ALL right there, and what played out in front of us was incredibly hot, hilarious, and gorgeous pro wrestling action.

Most of the wrestlers on the card have grown up before our eyes, turning their passions for wrestling into entertaining videos on WatchFighters. Quite a few have headlined for companies like BG East, Wrestler4Hire, and Weekend Wrestling. I suspect few of them have done anything quite like this before, pulling off a live match in front of a roaring crowd of guys turned on by wrestling. But honestly, you wouldn’t have known it. The entire show had polish about it. There was an earnestness and unblinking sell about it that was totally un-self-conscious. The slams where hard and loud. Bodies were literally catapulted off the ropes. The face plants into the turnbuckles shook the ring and hurt just to watch. The slaps and stomps popped with this spontaneous authenticity that left bright red hand prints and yellowing bruises behind. I’m mean, sure, I’m certain there were moments that I needed to suspend my disbelief, but as I look back on my memories of the event just over a week ago, I honestly don’t remember them. I just remember the stories playing out in front of us. And the hot bodies. I remember those really well.

There were competitive matches packed with impressive athleticism and wrestling technique. Babyface hero Dash Halley put those meaty pecs of his on the line against massive muscle bruiser Leon Cyrus in a best-of-5 battle that hit hard and kept us guessing to the sweaty end. My buddy Bobby Carter’s match against the institution, Lobo Gris, also started as one of those highly competitive and suspenseful battles, with pounding muscles and long, wrenching submission holds. But all of the matches showcased personalities and drama at least as much as they did stunning athleticism and technical wrestling. Both of the tag team matches were both dripping with melodrama, which is what tag team wrestling demands. When Kid Canuck and Ryan Reilly faced off against MPJ and Bruno the Beast, there was a shocking tag team partner betrayal culminating in a humiliated jobber pile of hot, sexy, demolished pretty boys. In most of the matches there was the teetering back and forth of the balance of power, with wrestlers owning the momentum and taking liberties and threatening to count their chickens before they hatched. Oh, and did I mention there was hot, hunky stripper wrestling? I feel like that deserves to be repeated.

The messiest and the most polished matches were back-to-back. My pick for messiest match was Gabe Steel taking on Drew Harper… and then Gabe taking on Dash Halley… and then Gabe taking on surprise reveal of Jonny Firestorm… and then Gabe taking on both Gabe and Drew. It was all high impact moves, with piledrivers for days. Honestly, there was so much going on I lost the thread of what the hell was exactly happening and who I was rooting for. Entertaining? Absolutely. But way, beautifully messy. The Weekend Wrestling feature of the evening was pretty much the opposite. Sadistic Sid Shaw took on Zach Reno, as I mentioned before, and it was smooth and polished to a glistening shine (just like Zach’s ass, which yes, we saw). Sid and Zach told the story of the underdog little (hot) guy refusing to be intimidated by the big, unhinged muscle brute. There was forced stripping, trunks pulled to show off two sets of hot glutes, and spanking. It was tightly told, with a couple of extensively experienced wrestlers to make every bump and spank feel spontaneous and part of a bigger story, including pulling in some ass whooping on Cole Cassidy (Weekend Wrestling Producer) which was oddly satisfying (not sure why I keyed off on seeing heartthrob hunk heel Cole get his ass kicked as much as I did).

And then there were just these unique moments that speak to the diversity of wrestlers and wrestling that populate this fabulously sexy community. Sir Dark’s match was just entirely off the hook and unlike anything else in the ring that night (in a super fun way). He was feral and bloodthirsty, out to fuck someone up so bad that he impulsively takes out the ref before a pop-up challenger can be identified from the audience. When KC Ryder steps in to be the beautiful blond babyface hero to stand against the forces of chaos uncorked by maniacal Sir Dark, the drama really got intense. Their match was ego-fueled and larger than life. It was sexy as hell and had me holding my breath in suspense and awe. Not sure if I’m conveying it, but it was just a whole different flavor to add to the buffet of Wrestlefest Live. The inaugural championship match between beefy babyface Ben Monaco and take-no-prisoners muscle heel Tarz Lando was (possibly) the the most thoroughly sweet treat for squash fans. The championship belt was decided in a super hot muscle massacre, dripping with cocky swagger and taunting trash talk and gorgeous, huge hairy pecs everywhere. The range throughout the evening was delightful, and the bench was deep.

It wasn’t perfect. There was a 20-minute delay at one point to try to troubleshoot the livestream that stopped working. There were blown moves, an occasional oversell, and even a frew more undersells. I saw Gabe Steel icing a swollen-shut eye after his match, and I’ve seen hints on social media that he may have more story to tell about things that didn’t go to plan. But as a gay fan turned on by wrestling, by sexy wrestlers and the drama and the battle for domination, it was magnificent. It was larger than life. From the rainbow ring to the ball claws and face sitting, it luxuriantly gay. It showed a ton of respect for the art and science and athleticism and beauty of professional wrestling. And it felt deeply respectful to a standing-room-only crowd of homoerotic wrestling fans. Those with credits for this sensational production included KC Ryder, Rocko Mortis, Cole Cassidy, and my cousin Scooter for what had to be a shit ton of upfront organizing and legwork, and there was another small army of guys holding the cameras and running the equipment. A quick shout out to the hot, handsome nerd-hunk ring announcer who should’ve thrown down the mic and ripped off his shirt (but didn’t). All of the celebrity refs (Chase Addams, Ethan Axel Andrews, and new-to-me muscle god Boy Radio) brought the sexy-in-stripes vibe and helped stir the pot of drama inside the ring at every turn. The Red Eye staff were uniformly delightfully hospitable and gorgeous (especially the bearded server with that hot-ass singlet serving drinks at ringside). I look forward to posting more detailed reviews once the matches go up on WatchFighters, but in the meantime, I’m combing through my hundreds of pics and videos I snapped, despite the announcement at the start of the show encouraging us to only take pics and videos “sparingly.” So not sorry!

Wasted Wednesday

July 15, 2020July 14, 2020 wrestlebard1 Comment

It’s #WastedWednesday, and I’m distracting myself from the 50%+ of my work week left by crushing on crushed hunks. Don’t you just want to be on the clean up crew for Wrestler4Hire, and find these sweat soaked, bruised, battered beefcakes littering the ring, used up and worn out? Is there a homoerotic wrestling angle out there of the straight heel who bulldozes the hottest slices of beef and leaves them for his gay best bro to climb in and take over? There should be.

harper justice

Fuck, the sight of Nick Justice toying with Drew Harper, after he’s laid him out in a pool of sweat and tears, his recharging my battery.

starr muscle

Mark Muscle stands back and simply possesses the ring, just like he just took total possession of Blake Starr. So, in that straight-heel-does-his-gay-bro-a-favor scenario, I’d pay extra if the straight heel sticks around and watches.

andrews muscle alvito

I don’t know why, but anytime Ethan Andrews climbs into a wrestling ring, I’m desperate to see him ground into mush. It’s probably related to his mast flying at full staff with the likes of Mark Muscle and Zach Altovito standing over him.

vanacker zman.png

This shot of Jacob Van Acker having been plowed under by Z-Man (!?!) is frame-ready work of art. The sweat, the glazed over, heavily-lidded eyes, and those astonished lips just hanging there open, gives me just the right adrenaline rush to get me through the rest of this week.

Karn daxx.png

Finally, have I confessed the hard, hard crush I have on KARN before? I mean, I know if gushed about his ink, but seriously, this man can star in any one of my homoerotic wrestling fantasies any time, anywhere. Here he is after getting severely abused by Daxx Carter, who I’m positive would hang around to join in the fun with a buddy who’d like to explore every hairy inch of KARN’s wasted body.

Trunk Pull Tuesday

May 26, 2020May 25, 2020 wrestlebard2 Comments

Is it just my imagination, or does gorgeous hottie Zach Reno deliver more than his fair share of trunk pulls?

reno3

Zach is so determined to weasel out of doing his chores that he stuff’s Jayden Mayne’s handsome face between his hairy thighs, leans forward, and gives the choreboy’s trunks a quick tug.

muscle

Zach does what it takes to level the playing field when he’s double-teamed by gargantuan muscle gods Mark Muscle and Zach Altovito, including, but not limited to, yanking hard on Mark Muscle’s trunks to make his earlier low blows linger longer.

zach reno

It’s not like Zach turns to the trunk pull only when the odds are long. He and fellow lightweight Ethan Andrews are more than enough to take on big, beautiful, pro loudmouth Garrett Thomas, but a completely gratuitous trunk pull makes Zach’s gut punches on the trussed up hunk that much more painful. And humiliating.

0532_lg

Trapped in Kid Karisma’s muscle bearhug in Gazebo Grapplers 17, Zach turns to a defensive trunk pull in a last ditch bid to survive the crushing embrace. The defensive trunk pull is a marvelous variation on the theme. It’s desperate, like clutching at straws, but instead it’s clutching at spandex.

0134_lg

The defensive trunk pull “works” only in so far as the wrestler on offense instinctively reacts to having his gear wedged up his ass crack and his cheeks exposed on camera. Zach’s pull implies that he’s an innovator, that he’s calculating more than just wrestling skill and strength, but also ego, vanity, and focus. Lesser men might be shocked and distracted to be on the receiving end of a defensive yank like this. Unfortunately for Zach, Kid Karisma is “less than” no one, particularly when it comes to showing off his multi-award winning ass.

Not only is Kid K unfazed by Zach’s move to expose his perfectly muscled ass cheek, he happily demonstrates that one good yank deserves another. Ever the fan-pleaser, Kid Karisma makes sure you and I can make a fair comparison to determine who wears the wedgie best.

Personally, my fan support for Zach Reno is only accentuated by his readiness to grab hold of his opponents’ trunks. I seriously love Zach’s hot, compact body and his take-no-prisoners wrestling style. I’m a huge fan of his furry, muscled ass, as well. Like his ultimate fate in his match with Kid Karisma, he may not be ready to compete with the sheer beauty of Kid K’s breathtaking bare butt, but I’m loving Zach’s willingness to go there!

Our Man Inside

July 11, 2017 wrestlebard4 Comments

I told you that last batch of BG East contraband was the fucking motherload, now didn’t I? Just to add context, this 3rd installment is still not all of it. It is, however, sweet, because of all the smuggled goods that OMI dishes out, my favorites are always the captured moments of my favorite BG East wrestlers relaxed, chilling, smiling, clearly enjoying themselves apart from the drama in the ring. These are the shots that make me admire these hotties that much more because they’re unpackaged, (relatively) candid, and somehow make them that much more crushworthy because they’re real. Speaking of crushworthy…

Fuck, every last one of these boys are adorable. No game face. No bloodlust. Just hot young hunks who can beat the living fuck out of each other one minute, and then kick back and chill when all is said and done.

I think this batchlet speaks to OMI as much as it does to the sensationally tasty hunks featured. We know precious little about the identity of OMI, but I can’t help but infer that he is equally as infatuated with Mad Mykel’s ass and Chase Addams nipples as I am. Just as an aside, Mad Mykel has made some tragic gear choices in the past, but I am incredibly anxious to get to see him in action in this jungle boy loin cloth.

And finally this last subcollection for the day features sizzling hotness all around, including the most elusive interview get of my blogging career, Kid Vicious. I’ve begged, borrowed, and stolen to convince KV to sit down with me for an interview. I’ve made promises. I’ve done favors. I’ve had him halfway to the table on at least a couple of occasions, only to have the most vicious tease in the business take a call and turn away at the last minute. I’m still working on figuring out who I have to fuck to get him on the record with me, but once I do, you’ll be the next to know.

I know for a fact that OMI has been taking some heat, in cognito, from the powers that be at BG East for his corporate espionage/fan fantasy fulfillment. Send your kindest wishes and prayers for safety to the homoerotic wrestling gods that OMI remains our man inside. And pass along the word to anyone you know with strings to pull that Kid Vicious gives that sit-down soon.

Hump Day

June 7, 2017 wrestlebardLeave a comment

It’s been a while since I took a break from interviews and reviews for a more thematic post. Today, I’m thinking about that peculiar idiom, referring to Wednesday as “hump day.” I actually missed this convention growing up. It was some time in my early adulthood, probably perusing commentary about homoerotic wrestling, when I first heard the term “hump day.” Now, I see and hear it everywhere. I still associate it with sex, but considering how mainstream it is, that’s clearly not implied by everyone. But among those of us into homoerotic wrestling, what else would come to mind?

An enthusiastic pelvic thrust in the midst of a wrestling match is one of those relatively subtle moments that instantly turns a confrontation sensationally erotic. Personally, I get off on wrestling beyond any direct analogy to sex acts. But there’s an extravagant openness about a wrestler taking an opportunity by force to tease his crotch grinding into his opponent’s crack. It opens up exciting possibilities about stakes. It signals to those of us aroused on this side of the screen that at least one of the hunks on that side of the screen is also turned on. It’s impassioned and motivated and pulls a wrestling match out of the closet by the scruff of the neck. In those rare moments when the wrestler getting humped responds receptively, when his mouth gapes open in frustrated desire, when he’s visibly struggling with a momentary lust to get fucked by the hot hunk on his back competing with his desire for wrestling victory (I’m looking at you, Drake Marcos), then a wrestling match is elevated for me beyond any hardcore porn scene I’ve ever seen.

So, happy hump day, homoerotic wrestling fans. And a thousand thanks to those wrestlers who kick the competition up a notch with a hearty, grunting, sweaty pelvic thrust.

h0318_lg — Drake immobilized by Skrapper’s cock – Matmen 26

h0908_lg — Lauden Sevior starts punching Drake’s ticket – Undagear 27

0729_lg — Oh, look, Drake’s ass pinned to the wall by Ethan’s monster cock – Undagear 25

h0623_lg — Jaysen Minx mounts Goren Ford’s hot ass and makes him ask himself just how bad he wants to fight back – Undagear 27

h0213_lg — Shocked heel beefcake Hawk Rodman’s final concession is cradling Fabrice’s thrusting cock between his cheeks – Mat Rookies 2

And the Winner Is…

January 17, 2017 wrestlebard2 Comments

The Best of BG East in 2016 has already been announced! Damn, that was fast. Clearly, I get into awards season heavily, so of course I need to debrief.

Biff’s ascendancy to the throne as Top Babyface is a remarkable rise for last year’s Debut of the Year winner. Seriously, we’ve been lusting after this gorgeous muscle man for less than two years! And just like that, he steps in, yanks the title from longtime title holder Jake Jenkins, and slaps JJ to the curb. There’s a reason that I let alliteration go fucking nuts when I’m talking about big, blond, blue-eyed, buff, bulging, beautiful babyfaced Biff.

With no defending title holders in the pool, Chace LaChance muscled his washboard right onto the throne as having the best abs. I had guessed that Chace might leverage his army of body worshipping fans to fill this vacuum.

Fuck, yeah! I have been arguing for years that Kid Karisma had the best body from top to bottom, and I’m thrilled that the court of public opinion has finally agreed with me. Last year’s winner, Chace, wasn’t even nominated, which certainly begs the question of who would fans want to worship more today. And there’s absolutely no other possible way to resolve this question than a jock strap wrestling match in the ring. And I STILL say Kid K’s body would rock the competition out cold.

Honestly, I’m unaccustomed to being so much in the majority when it comes to the Besties. But like me, a whole lot of the rest of you also noticed Kirk Donahue’s gargantuan bulge this year. I can think of no hotter scenario than Pete Sharp and Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!) coming back in 2017 for a 3 way bulge off.

I’m shocked and aroused to learn that Guido Genatto just got beaten by Jonny Firestorm for the title to Top Heel. I said that if anyone could do it, it would be Jonny. Guido is loud, and huge, and nasty, but Jonny just shut the Dirty Daddy up but good by taking the title.

Again, I say, fuck, yeah! At what point do we just name this the Kid Karisma award? I’m thrilled to be with the herd in getting behind (and I mean, close behind) Kid K’s glorious glutes for yet another year as Best Butt. I know of at least 2 former contenders who didn’t get nominated who are bitter as shit, but not me. I’m just leaning back, a little light headed, and soaking in the sight of the Eighth Wonder of the World, Kid K’s unsurpassed ass.

Again, I was consistent with the popular vote in calling Ty Alexander Top Jobber yet again. On the one hand, it’s a dubious distinction to be a Top Jobber repeat. No one exactly likes to lose, do they? On the other hand, a jobber of Ty’s quality can make even a train wreck of a match compelling. And I predict that if he keeps that bleach blond ‘do, he’ll get his ass spanked relentlessly yet again in 2017.

I hedged my bets big time in the Debut of the Year category, but true enough, my vote didn’t swing things Chase Addams’ way. Instead, it was one of the other hot newcomers I thought was in contention taking the title this year, rock hard Beauxregard. I love what he brings to the table, and I think all of BG East is better for it. I’m looking forward to seeing what big Beaux accomplishes in 2017.

h0310_lg — Best Submission of 2016 – Jonny Firestorm & Calvin Haynes in Hunkbash 18

Congratulations to Jonny and Calvin for taking the enigmatic title of Best Submission of 2016. I had my eye on another contender, but it’s not so surprising that the bad ass who just took the title as Top Heel would lock down the Best Submission follow up. And there’s no arguing that he fucking brutalizes doe eyed babyface Calvin.

A hearty congratulations to Kayden Keller and Debut of the Year winner Beauxregard on taking home the title for Sexiest Match of the year. It was a scorching hot field of contenders, and though I didn’t side with the majority on this one, there’s no denying they slapped down what was almost certainly the most explicit, sweaty, sexy assed heel on heel beatdown of the year. Well earned praise for KayK and a super hot haul for Beaux’s first year in the business.

Best Ring Match of 2016 – Tag Team Torture 19 – Addams & Alexander vs. Evans & Taylor

I wasn’t playing coy with just how infatuated I was with this match, so I’m thrilled no end to see it take the Best Ring Match title. If even one of the four of these young studs was a weak link in the chain, a complex tag team melodrama like this could have easily been a dud. But every one of the wrestlers in this match earned every praise and every award it got. Now when do we get to see Team All-Americans tear into the tag team ranks again?

Best Squash of 2016 – Demolition 21 – LaCash vs. Sorell

Kip Sorell got squashed like a bug by Flash LaCash, and fans picked it as the best of 2016. I’m generally lukewarm on this genre in general, but I get it. This is a hot match. My vote went elsewhere, but I’m so not in the mainstream when it comes to squashes in general, I’m not too surprised.

Best Mat Match of 2016 – Undagear 25 – Andrews vs. Marcos

This was a close second choice for me, but I was irked not to get a chance to vote for what I thought was an even sexier Drake Marcos match. In any case, kudos to Drake and Ethan for nailing down this victory with gallons of sweat and tears and some damn fine mat wrestling. This was super competitive, brutal, and sexy as fuck.

Hottest Liplock of 2016 – Wet & Wild 8 – Taylor & Haynes

I didn’t vote with the majority in this category, either, but there’s no denying the remarkable passion in that pumping, grinding, grunting make out session between Christian Taylor and Calvin Haynes. I’m thrilled to see both Christian and Calvin starring in multiple award winners this year. And when it comes to liplocks, really… is anyone a loser?

Best Wrestler Spotlight of 2016 – Chace LaChance

Chace continued to show off his blazing fan power with a win in the category of Best Spotlight. I had this as a third place on my score card, so I clearly broke with the herd. But the definition of a wrestler spotlight is fan power, so congratulations to Chace and all of the opponents who made this DVD a winner.

Best Overall Match of 2016 – Tag Team Torture 19 – Addams & Alexander vs. Evans & Taylor

You don’t know how thrilled I am to see fans select the opening match of Tag Team Torture 19 as the Best Overall Match of 2016. It got universally rave reviews from all of us who take the time to blog about this stuff. I’m pleased as punch that fans were of like mind with us bloggers, and I hope it does nothing but push for more tag team matches, more selfies, and much, much more of Christian Taylor, Charlie Evans, Ty Alexander, and Chase Addams.

Congratulations to everyone who won, and to all the nominees. It was an outstanding year at BG East, precisely because everyone in front of the camera and everyone behind the camera did such an excellent job producing high quality homoerotic wrestling of that flavor that only BG East can quite manage. I would argue there are no losers here.

	Chris H on Not Exactly the Worst Pla…
	wrestlebard on Not Exactly the Worst Pla…
	Scott THUNDER Willia… on Not Exactly the Worst Pla…
	Steve Lerman on Not Exactly the Worst Pla…
	wrestlebard on Rumble Again