I’ve been obsessing lately on magnificently muscled asses. You know the kind I’m talking about. The sort that takes more than two, big, eager hands to grab hold of entirely. That type that contracts into rock hard slabs of squared off granite that could grab hold with a grip like a vice. Of course, the finest specimens belong on the backside of handsome, hunky, athletic wrestlers. Sampling the new homoerotic wrestling releases is feeding my obsession nicely.
The awards show that turns my crank this season is of course, the announcement of the BG East Best of 2014 polls. Well, technically there is no “show,” although I think there should be. Hot contenders show up on the red carpet. Winners announced. Rip ‘n’ strip wrestling breaks out all over the place. Me, with a gallon of baby oil, standing nearby to keep things moving along nicely. Short of that, let’s take a look at the matches that rose to the top of the rankings of BG East fans and voters.
For sexiest match, voters swung toward X-Fights 38, with Drake Marcos and Lorenzo Lowe taking it all wonderfully too personally. I don’t have any problem at all with this victory, even though I finally decided it was Trey “Oscar” Dixon and Skrapper who demanded my vote. There’s a major bitter aftertaste to X-Fights 38, with Drake and LJL slapping down hard, angry resentment from start to finish, so voters seem to have a taste for the passionately punished grudge angle on for sexy this year. I totally get that.
Best Mat Battle was awarded to yet another LJL match, this one against Cameron Matthews in Submissions 9. I could see this coming from a mile way, even though my personal favorite was Drake and Mason’s brutal humiliation session in Passion & Punishment. Cam and LJL are first rate grapplers, stunning contortionist, and damn fine hunks that are a delight to watch, particularly with a liberal coat of sweat dripping off of them. A second Best Mat Battle honor in a row for Cameron, who took the title with Eli Black last year. Total winners.
Voters picked Demolition 17 for Best Ring Match, with Guido Genatto crushing delectable Jake Jenkins, this year’s (and last year’s, and the year before that) Best Babyface. I’m not surprised my pick, Tag Team Torture 17 didn’t take it, but I am surprised the crowd when this direction. Unlike the best mat battle winner, Demolition 17 was total one-way brutality, which I always assume won’t speak to a significant segment of the voters. I think Z-Man & Kip Sorell have got to be picking their jaws up off the ground to be runners up for this one.
On the other hand, Best Squash winners Jonny Firestorm and Nicholas Rush for their Demo 17 match should just prove never, ever bet against Jonny Firestorm (or his fans). I called Jonny & Nicholas total dark horse contenders in this field, and the majority propelled them to the top of the heap. This is a third Best Squash victory in a row for Jonny who seems to own this category as commandingly as he owns his babyface victims. Which again begs the question for me why, oh why, was he not in contention for Best Heel this year?! I also find all sorts of mixed signals about Demo 17’s Guido v JJ match winning for Best Ring and Best Submissions, but Demo 17’s Jonny v Nicholas pulling out Best Squash. Fascinating, perplexing, but again, I say, another reminder to NOT best against Jonny Firestorm.
As I just mentioned, Demo 17’s Guido v JJ again won in the Best Submissions category. As I’ve also mentioned, I’m not sure about exactly what this category is measuring, but I am surprised that this was the match that won. Guido’s match in Demo 18 against newbie Kirk Donahue featured far more terrifying, humiliating, screaming submissions than this one. Cameron and LJL surely won best mat battle for the incredibly acrobatic and insanely hot and dangerous submissions both accomplished submission wrestlers slapped down on each other. And Wet & Wild 7 had submission flying between 5 different hot, wet hunks, including my personal favorite, Mason’s lips crushed against Trey’s balls poolside in a face-to-crotch headscissors. But Guido & JJ? Fantastic match, but I’m just out of step with the majority/plurality on this one.
Best Liplock was awarded to Gabriel Ross & Christian Taylor in Wrestleshack 18. I called this as an incredibly tight field, which I honestly found completely impossible to handicap. There wasn’t a loser among them, though I was blown over hardest by Drake & Ty in Babyface Brawl X and Trey and Skip in Gear Wars 4. However, I’ve never failed to dehydrate whenever I’ve watched Gabriel or Christian in action, and there’s something appropriate about BG East’s resident kisser-king, Christian, taking home this title. Perhaps the key here is that this was Gabriel’s third taste of this title in a row, having won 2 years ago with his lips attached to Drake Marcos, and last year again with Kid Karisma. Fans clearly love watching Gabriel suck face, and I’d give a kidney to lock lips with Christian.
Looks like Guido & JJ nearly grabbed Best Match Overall, but they were runners up to Cameron & LJL’s Best Mat Battle of the year, Submissions 9. There wasn’t a Best Match Overall category in 2012, but last year this award went to the Aryx Quinn and Alexi Adamov’s Ring Revenge. I’m sort of excited to see this award getting doled out to both mat and ring matches over the years. And I predicted Cam and LJL would take this title, despite my tastes lying with Drake v Mason and Trey v Skrapper.
The Demolition series, and particularly Demo 17, certainly was the big winner this year, with 3 victories. Lorenzo “Jake” Lowe also has to be seen as a major league player for starring roles in Best Mat Battle, Sexiest Match, and Best Match Overall, despite being inexplicably absent from the individual wrestler awards. The other major story here seems to me to be the disconnect between best individual wrestler award winners (particularly Best Heel, Best Jobber, Best Debut) and the match awards.
One thing for sure, it was a stunningly hot, incredibly entertaining year in BG East wrestling! Handicapping the field and now going back to review the winners and losers is reminding me all over again what a sensational body of work BG East produced from start to finish in 2014. Congratulations to all the winners, and if any of the losers need some full contact blogger consolation, just let me know. I’ll be happy to soothe, stroke, or knead out any sore spots you’re nursing. And if you haven’t fully appreciated all of these fine homoerotic wrestling matches, consider taking BG East up on the offer to send them your way for 25% off if you order before the end of the month!
If you’d asked me last week which classic BG East wrestler a young, green, newbie Jonny Firestorm would have most admired when he first arrived at BG East, most wanted to follow in his footsteps, it would not have been Christopher Bruce. Kid Leopard, probably. Kid Vicious, maybe. BBW, possibly. But Christopher Bruce? Never. Then I watched Fan Fantasy 2.
Jonny is fucking bouncing on the balls of his feet, he’s so excited when Christopher Bruce walks into the ring room. He’s actually a little breathless, slightly tongue-tied, he’s so excited. His crotch is tented like Mt. Rainier, for god’s sakes, he’s so fucking excited! He whips out a classic Christopher Bruce pin-up boy shot from years ago.
Yeah, I’ve lost some fluids over that very shot, too, Jonny. I can so easily see how a young, homoerotic wrestling fan/aspiring wrestler would be star struck to see sensational hottie Christopher in real life. But when Jonny says he’s trying to pattern his career after the notorious muscle jobber, I choked on my tea. This cannot be happening.
Fan Fantasy 2 was clearly shot several years ago. In the evolving incarnations of Jonny’s physique, this is obviously one of his earliest matches. He’s incredibly lean, tight, just atop the minimum age requirement. I swear that mammoth bulge in his trunks quivers just a little when Christopher signs the pic especially for him, wishing him best of luck in his career. Jonny is practically gagging for the start of this match, to lock up with a fantasy man he’s studied lustfully for years. Who the fuck would have guessed!?
Dreaming of meeting your “idol,” your “hero” as Jonny calls Christopher, turns out to be significantly different than actually, in real life, squaring off against the likes of Christopher Bruce. Christopher looks like he’s right about the shape he was in when he made his epic comeback facing down, then looking way up at, Cole Cassidy in Demolition 10. He’s the perfect example of a hot, hard young hunk of man meat who, in my opinion, turns about 250% hotter with a few more years, a lot of devotion to building his body, and a calm, cool maturity. He takes Jonny’s frothing fanaticism in stride. He’s humble. Like a class act, he offers the newbie some advice about succeeding in the cutthroat world of BG East wrestling. When Jonny keeps wanting to show off his own hard trained muscles for Christopher’s appraisal, the veteran keeps reminding him that it’s the fans on the other side of the camera he needs to please, not his opponent. Fuck, I love Christopher Bruce.
They lock up. Push, shove, and Christopher abruptly hoists Jonny off his feet and sends him flying into the next zip code. At first, Jonny chuckles, still awed at all that power that he’d only dreamed of before. That was fucking awesome, he thinks. Until Christopher does it to him again. And again. And then scoop slams him again, and again, and again, just about burying the newbie several inches deep into the mat. The look of slack jawed adoration evaporates, and a look of bitter resentment at being completely muscle bullied takes its place.
I love every second I’ve ever seen of Christopher Bruce in charge. He’s like a gorgeous landslide starting off slow and deliberate and building a completely crushing head of steam. When Jonny tries a defensive wedgie, trapped in Christopher’s bearhug, the veteran muscle jobber snarls with contempt and shrugs it off. How many opponents have desensitized him to the shocking discomfort of getting his balls squeezed and his crack flossed? He’s just so damn dominant in size, in cool confidence, in raw power. I’m always a sucker for a punk ass kid getting fucked up hard by a savvy, seasoned veteran. But then again, I’m a full blown Christopher Bruce fan, so I’m obviously not exactly uninspired to see Jonny drop the handsome muscleman to his knees with several choice, nasty punches to his vulnerable testicles.
Once Jonny has turned the corner, once he’s set aside his childish ways, no longer humbled to just be sharing the same ring with his long-time idol, the shit gets real, real fast. We’ve seen Christopher brutalized. A lot. But I can’t remember ever seeing an opponent put the hunk on his back, spread his oak tree thighs wide, and not just jump onto his balls with both feet, but stay there, pulverizing poor Christopher’s delicate jewels. This is the Jonny we’ve come to know and love, not the slack jawed fan creaming over an autograph, but the vile, merciless, almost feral lightweight heel who carves up massive musclejobbers like Christopher Bruce like a Thanksgiving turkey.
Discounted heel versus naive muscle jobber. It’s a formula we’ve seen before. And still there’s a lot here that takes me by surprise, makes me gasp, and reminds me all over again how supremely fantastic both of these wrestlers are at doing what they do best. The only box not yet ticked for me is to see an opponent worship Christopher Bruce’s unbelievably sexy body even half as devotedly as I do, though I do love seeing how deep down excited Jonny is to tell this story. A catchweight train wreck like this is top notch, powerfully arousing, and perfectly on point.
There’s been some confusion about the BG East Best of 2014 poll. For the record, it is still open, and will remain so until midnight tomorrow night, February 8. You can find the poll through the homepage by clicking on the “All 2014 Releases” button and then clicking the poll banner at the top of the page, or simply click here to go to the poll directly.
Let’s take a look at a few more categories. What defines a babyface is fiercely debated among some wrestling fans. When I’m thinking of babyfaces (which is often), I’m picturing a wrestler who is eye-catchingly beautiful, earnest, optimistic, trusting in the rules of wrestling and human decency to make the wrestling ring an honest to god contest of strength and technical skill. A babyface is stoked to be cheered and admired. He expresses contempt for vile evil doers who take short cuts and disregard rules and good sportsmanship. As I look at the field of BG East Bestie nominees for Top Babyface of 2014, that’s the standard I’m holding up to each of this sizzling hot leading men. Let’s take a look at who’s in the running.
For me, this category comes down to the tried and true, solidly developed babyface characters of Jake Jenkins and Denny Cartier. I think JJ’s momentum and unblinkingly fanatic fan base makes him the top contender for the popular vote, but my personal vote is finally leaning Denny’s way. JJ has an edge to him in some matches, a cocky, smirking, I’ll-go-as-low-down-as-you-dare-me-to attitude, whereas Denny just clenches that Clark Kent jaw and dishes out due respect almost every time. And in 2014 he had the distinction of taking that upright intensity to introduce Lon Dumont to mat wrestling, including finally getting bulldozed by the notorious pro heel. The dark horse who could defy the odds this year I think may be Kip Sorrel. I’m always a little surprised not to hear more buzz about the living Ken doll, so I’m wondering if there’s a silent majority out there just waiting to make Kip upend JJ.
Now let’s turn our attention to the category of Best Squash. This is a category that instantly turns off some fans who just don’t enjoy one-sided crushings. I, however, am not that type of fan. I fucking love gasping, dangerous maulings when both the pitcher and catcher sell it with enthusiasm. I think we have some notable contenders and, perhaps, some surprising absences in this year’s slate.
Two matches from Demo 17, two from Demo 18, and JJ and Guido showing up in multiple contenders? Very complex field to try to handicap. Personally, I’m going with the one and only non-Demo entry, because Dr. Cooper and Leo Tomasi owned me hardest and truly surprised me when I noticed how hot I found it to see Leo bleed. Dr. Cooper is an incredible heel, perhaps made more so by the distance he’s traveled since his heel turn. Honestly, I’m not sure at all how to predict where the majority may lean in this one with all of the overlaps, so I’m going out on a limb and saying I think the majority (and the hardcore Coop fans) will swing the vote the same way I’m going, with Jobberpaloozer 13. I’m also demonstrating the size of my balls by saying I think Jonny v Nicholas is a serious underdog this year. I have to also note that all of these Best Squash contenders are ring matches from just 3 products. What happened to Passion & Punishment 1, with Mason Brooks spanking Drake Marcos like the naughty boy his is, which may have been the most satisfying squash of the year in my book?
Now for the newest category in the BG East Besties, the vote for “Best Submissions in One Match.” I struggled with the variable construct of this category. It’s not “most submissions,” though I suppose some could vote with that interpretation. It’s not the best “submission” in a match, because the nominees aren’t specific submissions, but the matches themselves. It’s also hard to miss the fact that the nominees for Best Squash line up very closely with nominees for “Best Submissions in One Match,” making me think the nominating committee also lacked a little clarity in the scope and range of this debut category.
So I’m choosing to dole out my vote for this category based on particular submissions (to be specific, the one’s I’ve highlighted above). If it were “most innovative submissions,” I’d easily vote for Jonny & Nicholas. If it were most terrifying submissions, I’d probably take Guido and Kirk. I’m picking the best submission as in the one that I found sexiest, the one that recurred in my early morning wet dreams, the one that I replayed in real life and in my fantasies most, which was, for me, Trey Dixon’s poolside face-to-crotch orgasmic headscissors. Since the category itself seems spongy to me, predicting a winner is tough, but I’m thinking Cameron Matthews and LJL’s fans will swing this their way. I think the longest shot is Guido and Kirk, both because Guido fans will be split and because Kirk is such a new commodity.
So the Bard-approved ballot as it stands now looks like this:
Best Abs: Lon Dumont
Best Bulge: Pete Sharp
Best Butt: Kid Karisma
Best Body: Kid Karisma
Sexiest Match: Passion & Punishment 1 – Trey Dixon v Skrapper
Best Mat Match: Passion & Punishment 1 – Drake Marcos brought to whimpering tears by Mason Brooks
Best Ring Match: Tag Team Torture 17 – Dumont/Baynard v Reno/Walsh
Best Debut: Ty Alexander
Top Babyface: Denny Cartier
Best Squash: Jobberpaloozer 13 – Austin Cooper v Leo Tomasi
Best Submissions in One Match: Wet & Wild 7 – Trey Dixon’s face-to-crotch headscissors on Mason Brooks
In case you didn’t catch it, my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month, Drake Marcos, crawled out of the shame spiral he’s been in for the past month in order to try to articulate how, after all that taunting and trash talk, he ended up with his trunks stuffed in his mouth and a certain blogger snapping photographic proof of his humiliation in the ring (not that we didn’t already have copious evidence of Drake’s humiliation in the ring). It’s adorkable. I honestly didn’t realize that my infatuation with Mason Brooks’ nipples was what apparently seeded Drake’s antipathy toward me during our 3-way interview nearly a year ago. Seriously, how could I not be infatuated with Mason’s nipples? And it’s not as if I have some finite supply of infatuation and fandom to ration out. I can marvel at Drake’s magnificent suffering as a sensational jobber and, simultaneously, go dizzy with delight at Mason’s hot pecs and total mastery of an outmatched opponent.
We’ve been left in suspense to hear the end (or at least “part 2”) of Drake’s attempt to rationalize away his blogger beat down. Considering it was almost 11 months between his last post and this one, perhaps we shouldn’t hold our collective breaths. And what, honestly, can a stud say to defend himself when he was photographed entirely defenseless and defeated? The end of “part 1” of Drake’s tap dance around the cold hard facts suggests that, as is so often the case with dissociative disorder, he is coping with his shame by glancing sideways at his split-personalitied alternate self. Whatever you need to do to sleep at night, Drake. Whatever you need to do. As we wait, I’ve collected a few choice moments from Drake’s wrestling history to share as evidence that the handsome hunk sells sublime suffering just about the best of anyone I can think of in the business today. I’d suggest the Cheshire Cat simply own it rather than run from what he does so, so well: suffer. Check out Kayden Keller’s Facebook feed for more piling on, pointing out that nobody agonizes helplessly quite as provocatively as Drake Marcos.
I woke up to a deep and dark funk in light of the election results across the country yesterday. These are dark days, I fear, and I’m desperately in need of a hero to fight off the villains who are robbing us blind. Fortunately, this Halloween seems to have brought out the superheroes from among the ranks of homoerotic wrestlers, and I for one am relieved to have these gorgeous hunks suit up to slap down the bad guys. Because there are so many fucking bad guys. In Congress!
Drake Marcos extended gracious courtesy and generosity as he hosted my visit to BG East’s south campus recently. Nowhere in sight were the bluster and strutting he demonstrated online for the past year or so. “Bring it, Bard,” he’d snarled during my threesome interview with him and Mason Brooks last February, “your writing won’t save you on the mats. Let’s do this!” But he was all dimpled smiles and earnestness when he treated me to breakfast at a greasy spoon frequented by BG East boys between taping matches. There was nothing but open faced hospitality as he drove me to the BG East arena to let me soak up more secondhand homoerotic wrestling hits. I have to admit I was feeling pretty certain that although young Drake clearly doesn’t like to admit it, he was way too straight-laced, way too considerate, way too self-deprecating to be anything other than a perpetually doomed jobberboy.
Kid Leopard himself had shared with me behind the scenes shots of the recently developed arena facilities of BG East, so it was both intensely familiar and deeply provocative to stroll through. The walls are plastered (tastefully) with eclectic and stimulating wrestling art. Pro posters, comic art, a few classic works. There was no mistaking that the same guiding hand that placed such a distinctive stamp on BG East’s Boston area compound had decorated this place. As I experienced during my pilgrimage to BG East north, everywhere I turned was a hot graphic allusion to precisely what turns me on.
Drake described for me the way the facility is used during a typical taping session for BG East. There are frequently many wrestlers on site at the same time, but with one match being taped at a time, the lounge area is populated with hot hunks in gear hanging out, shooting the shit, reading, checking texts, whatever. It’s that downtime, I’m guessing, that has much to do with the camaraderie and esprit de corps that so many BG East wrestlers have described for me during my interviews. For a fan like me, of course, I just kept imagining whose gorgeous asses had graced this furniture, and tried to restrain myself from burying my face in the plush cushions.
I was a little shocked to find that the mat room looked exactly like I pictured it. Pretty much every other venue I’ve toured left me with the impression of distorted proportions. The pool over at the bungalow seemed a little smaller than it was in my mind’s eye, for example. BG East’s northern compound mat room outside of Boston was incredibly tight for the illusions created by camera angles and intimate holds. But the mat room in the south campus arena was exactly like I pictured it.
And, of course, so many arousing images were superimposed on my vision, like Drake getting tagged and bagged by Mason Brooks in Passion and Punishment. It was spotlessly shiny and smelling of diligently applied cleanser, of course, but I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of awe, and stirring, at the gallons of sweat, tears, and cum that have fallen on that mat. Hell, the tears Drake alone has shed there could probably fill a saltwater aquarium!
Drake had to interrupt the tour to scrub the ring. It’s apparently a task he’s been assigned by The Boss, to keep the facility spotless. As he scrubbed away like a good jobber, Drake explained that when the facility isn’t being used to tape BG East matches, it’s rented out for private events and personal wrestling rendezvous by locals (or those traveling through).
After choreboy was all done, we sat and talked for hours about a ton of shit, most of which I’m expressly prohibited from sharing on the pages of this blog. My scrupulosity is my bane, clearly. The Cheshire Cat would tell me juicy anecdotes from on and off screen BG East moments, and then pause reflectively and add, “of course, you can’t share that on your blog.” Me and my fucking integrity. I got the impression that Drake was happy to download a ton of behind the scenes stunts and quirks, confiding what mat match created such a racket that the boys waiting their turn in the lounge found themselves laughing so uncontrollably that they had to flee the building for fear of blowing the taping. “But, of course, you can’t share that on your blog.” I was cataloging juicy gossip about the good, the bad, and the downright prickish among BG East wrestlers and hopefuls. “But, of course, you can’t share that on your blog.” I heard Drake’s personal impressions of dozens of the dozens more wrestlers who he’s met, worked with, and tried to avoid. “But, of course, you can’t share that on your blog.”
It began to dawn on me after, quite literally, hours of hearing homoerotic wrestling buzz off the record that the rising pairing of frustration and arousal that was making my crotch ache may not have been all that unintended by the Cheshire Cat. I began to suspect that, knowing of my commitment to confidentiality, the tease of so many stories that I was not allowed to share may very well have been a strategy from the dimpled stud sitting across from me, stretching out his long, sexy legs, working me into a lather and then swearing me to secrecy. What had appeared as an overabundance of generosity and frankness… wait, was I getting played!?
We hadn’t talked about the gauntlet Drake had laid down so many months ago at all so far this entire time, until suddenly he stopped dishing and smirked at me. “So, all that talk about wrestling. Are we really going to do it, or was that just talk?” Wait, was all this just foreplay, astonishingly spot-on foreplay aimed at stoking the vanity and arousal of a particular wrestling blogger known for loving the behind-the-camera dish, and then leaving me erotically frustrated, irked even, in order to lure me into the ring?
Uh, yeah. We’re going to wrestle!
I just realized that I left Austin Cooper (the Doctor) and Ray Naylor hanging in the last Friday Fashion poll. We’ll let the two of them duke it out some more, but it’s been quite a brutal squash so far. I’ll tally the votes officially on Friday, so Ray fans better get their asses in gear if you want to save his lean, sizzling bacon. In the mean time, OMI smuggled out of BG East a couple more batches of photos for our scrutiny and fantasizing. There are fan favorite babyfaces, sweaty heel muscle, and an intriguing little bit of drama to speculate about.
It’s been months since I heard from our man inside (OMI) the operation at BG East. I was beginning to wonder if the Boss had finally sussed out the identity of the homoerotic wrestling fans’ hero who has smuggled us behind the scenes, off label photos of BG East wrestling magic in the making. However, OMI is apparently not wearing cement shoes in at the bottom of the Okeechobee, because just this week I received a package proverbially wrapped in a brown paper bag. OMI, I’m relieved to hear that you’re still with us! Keep ’em coming, because I get a particular thrill out of seeing BG East boys in candid and unscripted moments. It’s just a little more like getting to be there in person to watch the hot action live!
Today’s batch of photos come from poolside in Florida and primarily feature the Cheshire Cat himself, Drake Marcos. Regular readers will remember that although I’ve gone on the record as a fan, handsome young Drake has taken umbrage at my armchair commentary, including my complaints that his very first photographic appearance (a pre-OMI smuggle) featured him in far too loose of clothing to get a clear estimation of his physique. What really seems to have soured the Fugelsang-esque stud toward me has been any discussion I’ve raised of his relationship to the category “jobber.” Somehow, being asked about whether he’s a champion jobber seems to wipe that ever-present grin of his handsome face. Ah, well. I’m not the first journalist to be resented for my willingness to ask the hard questions. Young Drake has been promising for months now that he’s got an ass-whooping saved up especially for me, should our paths ever cross. Unfortunately for Drake, that very well may happen this autumn due to my travel schedule for work. I’ll keep you informed as to whether it’s a certain favorite blogger of yours, or whether it’s a certain sexy jobber we know, who comes face to face with a well-earned reckoning.
Jake Jenkins has captured the hearts and stoked the crotches of countless homoerotic wrestling fans in the past few years. His charms are both obvious and subtle. He’s gorgeous to look at under any circumstance. But he’s also prolific and varied in his delivery of wrestling drama. So I’ve strolled through the many splendored thing that is JJ’s wrestling filmography and finally arrived at the really tough part of the alphabet. Some of these final entries in Making Jake are weak, I’m the first to admit. But cut me some slack. The options for descriptors that start with the letter X are x-tremely limited. From U to Z, here’s my take on Making Jake…
…unconscious. Perennially dangerous and with inexhaustible tenacity, many opponents have been simply stunned by the energizer-bunny quality of Jake. Even when you’ve got him down, just try counting him out. With the muscle and the body awareness he’s got, he’ll slip out of your fingers 9 times out of 10. What’s an opponent to do to once and for all not just put, but keep him down? An elite few know you very well may have to make Jake unconscious!
…vertical. Jake fans know that his athleticism is second to none. JJ flies. He does handstands. He flips and twists and slams and stomps. He’s perfectly balanced between grace and brutality. That goes for both pitching and catching. Opponent’s can do astonishing things with JJ’s incredibly fit, flexible, agile, compact muscle body because he’s in such incredible shape he can take astonishing beatings and live to tell the tale. For example, Jonny Firestorm managed to contort JJ’s body into positions and shapes I’ve never seen before, each one more breathtaking and beautiful than the last. There’s something just awe inspiring about watching that moment when an expert heel doesn’t just control Jake’s body, he doesn’t just hold JJ’s life in his hands, he makes Jake vertical.
…wet. I’ve got a major thing for wrestlers that work up a heavy lather of sweat, and Jake can definitely get there. When droplets make his muscles twinkle and his bulges glisten, Jake is transported into another realm, joining a pantheon of immortal gladiators demanding to be worshipped as celestial beings. As Ethan Andrews proved, JJ also looks damn good with a bottle of water poured onto him in the middle of the ring, piling humiliation onto defeat. Thankfully it’s never come to this, but it just wouldn’t be a full on JJ match if his opponent didn’t make Jake wet.
…x-rated. Okay, so here’s where you must cut me slack, because I know full well that Jake’s wrestling filmography is PG-13, at best, and that’s only if you have a fundamentalist Christian prude on your ratings board. True, JJ did dally briefly under another name in some full frontal solo work for a beefcake company, but formally speaking, that wasn’t “Jake.” But thank the wrestling gods JJ has been wrestled out of his singlets and trunks on just a few occasions, leaving him in nothing but a sweat soaked jock strap. The briefest glimpse, barely more than innuendo, of his exposed hole exponentiates JJ’s overall homoerotic sexiness across the board. There’s not an inch of him that doesn’t deserve awed worship, but there’s something just for gay wrestling fans when a match makes Jake x-rated.
…yelp. I’ve said it before, but let’s review it again. Jake is a cool customer. He’s got a sharp wit and a razor tongue, but the quantity of what comes out of his mouth in a match is perpetually restrained. He sells pain most often silently, or at most, with anguish welling up behind a wall of ironclad self-control. So it’s a special treat when an opponent not only drives Jake to the edge of busting through that wall, but managed to squeeze just right and make Jake yelp.
…zealous. Jake embodies many different characters. At Rock Hard Wrestling he started as a brutal heel. At BG East, he’s been a beautiful babyface, a stern initiator and a stunned jobber in various combinations. There’s something achingly hot, though, about Jake as a valiant jock, as certain in the virtue of hard work as he is in the scales of justice tilting his way in bringing victory as reward for his earnestness. On just a couple of occasions, JJ has flashed that wide-eyed, broad smile, wrapped himself in patriotism, and flung himself face first into harm’s way trusting in the rightness of his convictions to weather the storms of dirty tricks and dastardly deviousness hurled back at him. That earnestness is misplaced, of course. This is professional wrestling we’re talking about. But there’s something deeply evocative when a certain gear choice, or a particular partner, or specific opponent manages to make Jake zealous.
Well there you have it. I struggled to select among many excellent option for most letters of the alphabet in attempting to capture the range and depth of Jake Jenkins, so I may very well go around the circuit all over again some day. But first, there’s a certain 3-time homoerotic wrestler of the month who has his own parallel series that I need to pay attention to. Now that I’ve found Eli Black’s most recent work at UCW, I’m obsessed with exactly what it is that evokes the enthralling essence of Eli.
Sidelineland 