It’s been about 16 months since I last posted, and I want to thank those of you who reached out to make sure I was doing okay. Indeed, I was fine, and am continuing to do fine. Circumstances of life overtook my best intentions to keep musing “aloud” with you here about our shared enjoyment of homoerotic wrestling.
Well, circumstances of life have once again overtaken me, and most of us, I’m sure. The demands of my work life have changed. Not exactly gone away, thank goodness. But changed. I’m following public health guidelines that keep me inside my home for all but essential trips out. While still employed, I suddenly no longer have the killer commute I did just a few weeks ago. Practically no social demands, which truth be told, isn’t so bad when you’re as introverted as I am. With so much time on my hands, you’d better believe I’ve been charging my engine watching homoerotic wrestling in unprecedented concentrations and quantities.

I wasn’t exactly planning a comeback here on the blog, until I received a sweet shout out in the comments from man-of-my-dreams Scott Williams, checking in on me. Just like that, I was fully erect, with my homoerotic wrestling imagination aflame, and my thoughts turned back to the value added to my erotic musings that comes from sharing them here.
Historically, what swamps me with keeping up with the blog is my complete lack of self-restraint when I start diving down the rabbit hole of one wrestling infatuation or another. Seriously, I dare not ever actually clock the time I invest in composing posts and pouring through photos to accompany them, because I think the reality might make me rethink if this is a “healthy” obsession I have. But in the interests of enjoying the ride again, and hopefully enjoying it for some time to come before burning out, I will endeavor to keep posts brief. Relatively speaking. I mean, if you’re new to the blog, you’re already thinking this post has gone on too long, but if you’ve surfed around these pages, you know the over-the-top lengths I can go to in chasing that dragon.
So this announcement of my comeback is illustrated by scenes of some of my favorite homoerotic wrestling comebacks. I pray to the homoerotic wrestling gods that good fortune will shine upon me, and my efforts will be even a fraction as sexually satisfying, as the return to wrestling glory of these magnificent stars.

There was a published gap of 6 years between the last time Joe Mazetti ripped an opponent limb from limb and when he showed up in 2015 to fuck over young buck Biff Farrell in The Comeback 2. Joe had one of the “worst” attitudes in wrestling in his storied career, but he was determined to turn over a new leaf and play it straight in his encore wrestling career. Fortunately for all of us (except Biff), Joe rediscovered his inner muscle heel, and the years did nothing but enable him to amass more mouthwatering muscle, the better to plow young Biff under. I always think of my truest self as a baby face waiting for my heel turn. Maybe this comeback of mine will see me take a brutally nasty turn to the dark side, with Joe as my patron saint.

Sometime around 2005, Christopher Bruce returned to BG East competition after a published hiatus of about 4 years. Sure, he got his ass handed to him HARD by the human buzzsaw of Cole Cassidy in Demolition 10, but what a gloriously magnificent ass it is! Yeah, he was exquisitely humiliated, but that was precisely what saved his seat in the pantheon of homoerotic wrestling gods in the first place. If global pandemics and renewed commutes and completely unreasonable work demands and my own lack of self-control make this comeback to blogging go down in flames, I hope it will be as erotically provocative and earnestly respectful of the sport and art and science that is homoerotic wrestling as Christopher Bruce’s spectacular defeat in his return to competition.

Surely the most anticipated comeback in homoerotic wrestling history was the return of legendary babyface beauty Brad Rochelle. There was a desperate drought after Brad headlined the The Contract series through it’s ninth iteration, until he showed up 7 years later to bring the bitter work stoppage to and end in The Contract 10. And what an end it was, as management and labor renegotiated their perpetually contested terms to the satisfaction of BGE fans. The reversal of fortunes made for such perfect story telling. The puppeteer boss manhandled and humiliated the handsome hunk horrifically, until the gorgeous talent battled back from the brink with, of all things, a kiss of death, using the master’s tools against him. It’s a spectacular climax to a story of epic proportions, tying up loose ends, savoring character development. There’s sweet, jaw dropping revenge as the Boss himself is abased like never before, the ultimate heel brought low by the perpetual underdog.

I can only hope my comeback is as successful at executing the long game as Brad Rochelle’s comeback was. Of course, how can I talk comebacks without extolling that of Shane McCall, or Brendan Byers, or Kieran Dunne, or… But no. I will not burn myself out just one post into my return to blogging. Thanks for reading and commenting.
