BG East has a sale running on their membership site, Arena. It appears that someone has lovingly curated all of the Video On Demand matches that feature wrestlers in thongs. Fuck me, where did I go so miserably wrong, that I did not end up with the job of combing through the BGE catalog looking for thongs?! I feel like my entire educational career is suddenly a tragic farce, now that I know what job I should have been padding my resume for all these years. And those “career aptitude” inventories I filled out for my guidance counselor were clearly a load of bull shit, because if I was hardwired for any particular career, it’s OBVIOUSLY to be the lucky son of a bitch tasked with categorizing BG East products by themes for sales promotions. Fuck you, Mrs. Rogers, my high school guidance counselor, who said I ought to pursue a career in human services or educational settings.
In a cheap imitation of the professional I wish I was, I’ve now been spending some time looking through the sale catalog at matches with thongs. Woozy, what an erotic trip down memory lane! Like, Reese Wells getting his balls bashed until his cock was so hard that it, nor his balls, could fit inside his bullseye thong’s pouch any longer. Sweet fucking homoerotic wrestling gods. Legendary.
Mike Columbo’s thonged dismantling of Jay Stevens from Fantasymen 18 gets a discount in this sale. Let me repeat, Mike Columbo’s ass in a thong…. Good fucking gods, are you kidding me? Talk about legendary, and this match is from the first DVD I ever bought, in no small part because of the irresistible allure of Mike’s bare ass cheeks. He is a TERROR in the match, and I personally never loved him as much as when Mike was brutalizing a lucky fucker like Jay, wringing him out to two dimensions in epic, epic muscleboy body scissors.
The Gear Wars: UK Kink match between Ashley and Rob has recently been on my mind for some reason. And by “some reason,” I mean Rob’s stunningly gorgeous cock, and the ridiculously weird sock-fetish theme of the match. Honestly, I came for Ashley’s prettiness, but I go back again, and again, (and again) for Rob’s insanely gorgeous muscles, stunningly hot cock (I know, I already said that, but it bears repeating), and his sensational intensity that totally rubs out any campiness from the sock fetish antics.
And finally, Thrash thrashing El Favorito, who I’m convinced was named in honor of me! Sweet fucking gods, El Favorito’s ass NEVER looked better, and I’m in more of a position than most fans to back that claim up. And I maintain a long, long, LOOONG simmering crush on Thrash, and, in particular, his circus strongman, insanely sexy quads.
More thongs need to show up, and then get ripped off, in homoerotic wrestling, as far as I’m concerned. But who am I? Clearly not an insider living my best self with the job I was born for.
I recently bumped into Ash DeLeon on social media. Ash gave me one of my last interviews I posted before my hiatus from blogging, and he graciously agreed to a follow-up interview to inaugurate my comeback. The conversation ranged from gut punching to lip locks to which upperclassmen heels he’s ready to challenge.
Bard: Thanks so much, Ash, for helping me reboot the blog with an interview!
Ash: It’s my pleasure! Glad to have you back. Missed your blogs about the underground gay wrestling world, man. You have no idea how much I thrived on those when I was just a fan of all the top wrestling companies.
Bard: So, I’ve been out of the loop for about a year and a half, with limited bandwidth to keep up with homoerotic wrestling, sadly. What have I missed?
Ash: I will say this, you missed out on quite a bit! In terms of my career in BG East, I guess the three biggest “achievements” went from wrestling in front of a live crowd in a match for Wrestling with Pride, to being called a “veteran” by BG East rookies in my most recent BG East shoot. Oh, and of course, the product I was featured in along with Kayden Keller, Nathan Sargent, and Rocky Sparks, that won best product of the year! BAM! I very much consider that my first win for the annual BG East awards. But I believe quite a few of my matches have come out since your hiatus. There have been a few particular matches that I think you may have enjoyed, including my Three-Way Thrash with Kayden Keller and Luke Reel, to my Gut Bash match with Kenny Starr, and to my latest match against Ethan Axel Andrew’s himself, in a fantasy-brought-to-life of the classic “wrestling coach versus his student” match. It’s been quite the year of growth for me.
Bard: Damn, you have been busy!
Ash: I have been! But in the best ways possible!
Bard: Tell me about Wrestling with Pride 2. It sounds like that was your first match in front of an audience of fans. What was that like?
Ash: It was my first live match. So the story was that the gentleman who was supposed to wrestle Dimitri could not make it. It was kind of last minute, too. So in the scramble of trying to find someone to fill that card, the Boss asked me if I was willing to do it. I can’t even describe the amount of anxiety I got when he asked me but…. I did get a 101 pro lesson back when I wrestled for UCW. So I remembered the fundamentals of pro matches, like how to take bumps, safely do basic moves, etc. However, pull all of those out of the attic and apply them in a live audience?! Yeah, I was nervous as hell. But I worked with Jonny and Dimitri, and they gave me a crash course on how to develop a good show for a pro match. In the end, I was told it came out pretty good! I remembered everything they taught me, and was able to apply it to the match. To me, the match went smoothly, and the crowd seemed to enjoy it. Besides injuring myself, I thought I did decent enough to put on a good show. I will say, it’s hard to explain what it’s like when you have a crowd cheer your name to get up and keep fighting. It was like, the best kind of adrenaline injected into you, from pure energy from the crowd. It was awesome!
Bard: It sounds thrilling! Were you injured bad?
Ash: I was! It was something I did to myself actually (laughing). So in the madness, I forgot to bring boots to the venue, so I had to go around and ask if anyone had spares, and the only guy who did was Tiko. Who had spare boots, but they had heels in them… so… At the end, when I was setting up the super kick and was stomping in the corner Shawn Michaels-style. The second stomp I did, I had a huge shockwave of pain fire up my leg, and I knew something went wrong (laughing). So that limping I did out of the ring? It was my leg more than anything else.
Bard: Damn, all of that Dimitri beef pounding down on you, and it’s footwear that really fucks you up? That’s unexpected!
Ash: (laughing) Ah, yes little Luke was a fiesty one. After Kayden had his fun with the boy, he wanted to present me with a “challenge.” Granted, when I first saw that Luke was the challenge, I didn’t take it seriously. I learned real quick that Kayden had tricks up his sleeve. The real challenge was getting handicapped so hard with the knee to my balls, then getting beat on by both Kayden and Luke! I’ll admit they beat me pretty bad. My abs were clearly the focus, but I knew what Kayden really wanted was for me to prove, then and there, that I could take what I can give. Boy, did they test my resolve! However, I think it was safe to say I impressed Kayden by the end of that one, and Luke clearly loved every second of my pay back. Now Kayden has essentially taken me under his wing to learn how to be a legendary heel on the BG East roster. Always been my desire, since I watched my favorite heels destroy BG East’s sexy jobbers!
Bard: Well, I sort of want a little naked Luke Reel to sit on my dashboard and wag his hot body at me on my long commutes. I’m fascinated by what it may mean to be “taken under Kayden’s wing.” Do heels foster heel-friendships? Like, do you wonder if Kayden, Mr. Top Heel himself, might string this “mentor” thing along, just to make sure he’s there to beat you back down if you rise too far?
Ash: (laughing) Well, you can see how Kayden and I worked on the same beat when we were… well, beating on little Luke (laughing). Who knows? Maybe Kayden and I will become the new (maybe the first) destructive tag team of BG East. I am keeping on my toes with him. I know, as I keep learning the ways to heel, he will take me on in a brutal 1-on-1 match. And when that time comes, I’ll be ready. Who knows? The student could surpass the master at that point.
Bard: Well, I love the drama, so however it plays out, I’ll be looking forward to it. When you speculate that you might be the first destructive heel tag team of BG East, you do realize that Kid Leopard and Kid Vicious teamed up in one of the early Tag Team Torture series, don’t you? Because if you’re calling out KV and KL to a heel-off, I’m there with popcorn!
Ash: Damn, you caught me in my BG East history lesson! I’m going to be honest, I have always wanted to step onto the mats against either, or both of them! And however that plays out, I would be quite content. It would be such a raunchy and dirty battle! Just the way I like it! Wouldn’t that be a fight for the ages?
Bard: It’d be epic, my friend! Seriously, I need a front row seat to that match! You know I’m going to be reaching out to KV and KL and telling them that you’re calling them out, just to try to stir that pot to a rolling boil!
Ash: (laughing) Go ahead man! I have taken on plenty of sadistic dudes and bruisers in my career. I won’t back down at that chance, either!
Bard: Excellent. I never tap into my inner heel quite so fully as when I’m stirring up shit between other people. I expect to see you in a Kid Leopard kiss-of-death within moments of the quarantine being lifted! I’d like to return to a topic you and I have had a couple of times in the past, if you don’t mind. It seems like your first love is really gut punching. My first love is, honestly, homoerotic wrestling itself, which obviously overlaps with gut punching extensively. But is it the same kink, do you think? What do you see as the relationship between the two?
Ash: I never mind talking about my kinks! Especially in gut punching! I will start with saying, like most did, I had a certain “fascination” with watching the hunks on WWE when I was a wee lad. So back when I was a preteen, I always knew I had this…. special kind of lust for abs. It’s obviously my favorite muscle group on a man. But, my lust for it was much deeper. Even my 12-year-old self knew that. I knew that even before I accepted that I am gay. And my favorite expression I wanted to do onto a sixpack was punch it. I felt so odd, but the wonderful World Wide Web showed me that there are many others with the same interest. As I grew up, and I surfed the web, I found 3 specific videos that…peaked my interest. First, was a legendary video clip from Gutbash 5with KV and Steve Thomas. Second, a clip of that sexy Drake being gut punched in NRW. And third, Axel versus JR, in one of UCW’s first videos. I definitely don’t think they are the same kink though, although they have many similarities, but the energies of the heel and jobber versus puncher and punchee are similar, as well. The control in those dynamics definitely turns me on.
Bard: That makes total sense. I certainly find some solid punching in the context of a match to be provocative. I think I veer toward the other side of the coin, though, if I think about the difference between a punch to the abs and an abdominal claw. I think the claw turns me on more because the contact lingers. The application of pain lingers. The punch, even a series of punches, are like punctuation marks to me, but the story is in the intimacy of the wrestling holds.
Ash: I love how you compared the ab claw and a gut punch! I will say, I think there is a way to make the gut punching sequences quite erotic, at least, in my opinion. See, it’s all about the set up to the punch, that is, teasing the abs by slowly rubbing my fist against his abs, before the hit. Sometimes distract them with groping or even a lip lock before bringing that fist into the sweet spot! I will saw I will prefer a good ol’ ball claw over an ab claw (shocking I know).
Bard: I think I get that. It’s much more than the punch itself. The prelude, the rising tension, anticipation, whether they’re anticipating what actually comes or not. I don’t think I quite got that control and domination side of gut punching!
Ash: That’s exactly what I am talking about! I’m glad I helped shed light on the dynamics! At least on my end, I am sure not every gut punch enthusiast has the same ideology on the fetish, but I hope some do!
Bard: Tell me more about what you prefer about a ball claw.
Ash: Now, I will say CBT and ball busting did grow, with a big thanks to BG East in that regard. Particularly, Ball Bash 2 with Jonny Firestorm and Reese Wells. God that was a hot match. But my attraction to ball busting is this: it’s the easiest method to get your opponent to bend to your will and make him crumble in your grasp. That’s why ball claws are one of my favorite “holds” in erotic wrestling. So as you fans may have seen from my match against Nathan Sargent, I am pretty good at ball bashing, too! Who knows, maybe I’ll be known for making a legendary ball bash match on the BG East catalog, too. I have already been told my Gut Bash against Kenny Starr was something to remember. That has also been one of my biggest BG East accomplishments, too! Along with giving Jonny Firestorm and Kid Vicious the biggest smile during a match I filmed, not too long ago, with me as the heel working over a jobber. I was so happy when I saw that… while staying in my heel character, of course (laughing).
Bard: Oh, fuck yes, Reese Wells was a revelation in Ball Bash 2! I don’t think I’d ever really thought of someone getting off on getting their balls bashed before watching little Reese’s cock so visibly rise to that occasion. Crotch Crushers 1 was a similar epiphany for me, with the added benefit of seeing Mitch Colby and Derek DaSilva so beautifully marry punishment and pleasure.
Ash: Yes, Derek Dasilva looked like a fun guy to beat on! Reese Wells has been a dream opponent of mine actually. I have quite a few of those.
Bard: You know, of course, what else I’d bet would make Kid Vicious smile during a match? It’d be you and Kayden taking some serious lessons from the masters!
Ash: I love that idea! You are thinking of Kayden and I taking on Kid Leopard and Kid Vicious?
Bard: Yep, that would be golden!
Ash: That would be a freaking treat! I bet Kayden would be more than down for that too! Even if it means we get beaten (laughing).
Bard: I offer to referee. And I’d be a totally corrupt ref, just so you know.
Ash: Oh, yeah? Something tells me you would be on their side then and get a few licks in.
Bard: I’d have an idea of how things should play out, but I’ll leave it at that. You’d have to see which side of the scales I’d have my thumb on. Anything more you can reveal about your recent heel match that made the veterans smile, without the need for a spoiler alert?
Ash: I’ll say this much. It was a match with a rookie on the roster that I brought in recently. He made a big splash at BG East already, but since he and I have already gotten acquainted prior to him joining BG East… let’s say it translated very well on film. Also I am hoping it wins best lip lock for the next annual awards, but I would say fans should expect it to be one of the most brutal, yet sensual matches I have done to date for BG East!
Bard: What a teaser! I love it. I’ll be waiting breathlessly for it to come out. You also bring up another topic I’d love to hear more from you about. Lip locks. What elements make for a perfect wrestling kiss?
Ash: I have to really think about this one because it seems so natural to me; and that might be the reason. I usually only do a lip lock when it is natural. My energy and my opponent’s energy has to be on the same level, or at least to some degree. I think the best match that has captured that from my releases so far has been in the Three-Way Thrash with both Luke and Kayden. There is a lot of power in a kiss, just as powerful as a gut punch or a ball claw; it’s just a different kind of power. I guess I would say it’s that double-edged sword effect. A good lip lock sucks the fighting energy between the two wrestlers, even if it’s for a moment. Until one of those wrestlers realizes it’s their time to either strike again, or turn the tables. There have been plenty of times where it has either worked in my favor, or allowed my opponent to get a chance to get me on my back. And honestly, regardless of the outcome of a lip lock, I can never get enough of them!
Bard: You’ve definitely convinced me that I need to get my hands on that three-way!
Ash: Glad I sold you on it! I have a feeling you will enjoy it.
Bard: Before I let you go, can you tell me what’s the sexiest thing a homoerotic wrestling fan can do with his time when the world is in quarantine from a global pandemic?
Ash: The sexiest thing a fan can do is support his favorite wrestlers/wrestling companies. Because like everyone else, we will not be able to film for some time. For example, I was actually set to film for BG East next week, but obviously that got cancelled. So supporting is sexy to me. Help keep the business you enjoy alive! I have been doing it, too!
Bard: Whatever the world looks like after we’re past the pandemic, I desperately hope there’s a vital homoerotic wrestling industry in it! I have a year’s worth of new releases to catch up on, so I’ll do my part. I hope everyone who reads this interview will renew their support by purchasing a new wrestling match to add to their collections, too. And now, more than ever, buy from the source. We’ve got to support our wrestlers and gay producers!
Ash: That’s was amazing, man, thank you so much. So happy to have you back on the scene!
I thought I’d better post something before someone prematurely starts writing my obituary. I’m still adjusting to offline changes in my life, but I’m also happily carving out stolen moments here and there to enjoy watching hot wrestling. My thanks to those who periodically check-in when you notice I’m quiet for a while. It’s always nice to be missed. And a big word of humble gratitude to man-of-my-dreams Scott Williams who not only noticed my absence, not only dropped a comment on the blog asking how I’m doing, but also let me know that he’s thinking about arranging an opportunity for me to see him wrestle in person.
Fuck, that’ll bring me back from death’s doorstep anytime. Honestly, if you ever find me in cardiac arrest, skip the CPR and just get Scott Williams on the line letting me know when and where I can get a live show of him making Ty Alexander cry and beg. I guarantee you that’ll be an instant miracle cure.
If you know me, you know I’ve got opinions piling up about the best and brightest new releases that have come out over the past couple of months. While I’m assembling my thoughts and trying to sort through a backlog of reviews, this post is mostly just to let you know I’m still kicking. And in that spirit, here are some hot, decisive kicks that make my heart beat harder.
June’s new releases in the homoerotic wrestling universe were outstanding. It’s one of those months that makes me question the self-imposed constraints of calling out just one hot hunk to laud, but I’m probably more loyal to my habits than to my sense of fairness, when it comes right down to it. So backing myself into a corner, I still enthusiastically come out swinging with an adamant and definitive name for the newest homoerotic wrestler of the month…
I was just saying a few days ago that Kid Karisma is not only my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler, he’s also been in the extremely exclusive ranks of 3-time HWOTM winners. With his magnificent showing in Ring Wars 27, Kid K not only retains his grip as my longest running favorite wrestler title holder, he elevates himself to the only wrestler, to date, to claim his 4th HWOTM title.
I honestly pushed play on Ring Wars 27 half expecting Reese Wells to be the one to make a serious run for HWOTM title. I’ve been infatuated with Reese and his peekaboo peaked biceps since the first time I caught sight of him years ago debuting at RHW. He shows up to wrestle Kid Karisma ripped as fuck, somehow prettier and more sexually provocative than I’ve ever noticed before. He’s the perfect babyface. From the neck up, he looks like he’s just barely reached the age of majority. From the neck down, he’s all man, with a body built for nothing else but this hybrid gay porn/pro wrestling universe that you and I call home. Reese has got legitimate skills. He’s been dissected by the most dominating heels at BGE repeatedly, but he still manages to arrive with an air of possibility about him. I like seeing him smile, so I’m always excited to see if the boy wonder can build some momentum to permit him those rare, exquisite moments of joy when his lips curl in sadistic delight and he flashes a double bicep, magically turning his seemingly skinny arms into gorgeously peaked mountains. As testimony to his skill and sell, I can totally entertain the idea that he could back even the likes of Kid Karisma to the very edge of the upset of the decade with that killer bod and boy scout earnestness to grab the ring of wrestling glory.
Then Kid Karisma arrives on the scene. Maybe I’m just projecting, but it seems to me like every last ounce of tasty veal steak Reese Wells inspires Kid K to a fevered passion we don’t always see. Reese’s clenched-jaw earnestness and aspirations bring a grin to Kid K’s face. And this meaty morsel motivates the 2016 Best Body and many-times-over Best Butt winner to make this match one of the sexiest, most brutal foreplay sessions I’ve watched in a while. If I had to guess, I’d say Kid K did his homework and, in particular, studied Reese’s career-defining Ball Bash 2 match against 2016 Best Heel award winner, Jonny Firestorm. Because Kid K turns early and often to working Reese’s package. And by working, I mean an expert concoction of massaging, slapping, coaxing and clawing that turns the boy wonder into a twitching, desperate fallen angel groaning in equal parts sexual arousal and corporal anguish.
There’s little mystery, moments into the match, that it’s Kid Karisma’s to lose. He manhandles the boy wonder magnificently. He can shot put the kid across the ring at will. A few times that Reese digs in to make some offense happen, Kid K seems to go along for the ride, just to see what Reese can do, but most of the time he finally scoffs, slaps him down, and literally laughs in the kid’s face. You can never accuse Kid Karisma of a lack of confidence.
You can, however, document the moment in about half of Kid K’s matches when his cockiness blurs into overconfidence, and he leaves himself open for a skilled, aggressive opponent like Reese to exploit his overreaches. Frankly, I think it’s an absolutely essential ingredient to Kid K’s repertoire, that he repeatedly teeters on the edge of giving away the farm because he believes too completely in the fawning, gushing PR of adoring fans like me. Reese stays alert for precisely those moments. At one point, Kid K is bitching about his hair getting messed up, staring fixedly into the mirror to try to return to the physical perfection that he started with, when Reese tries for a sucker kick. Kid K turns just in time, catching Reese’s boot in mid-air and smirking. The smirk is summarily erased by Reese spinning like a fucking ninja in mid-air, pounding his other boot into the side of Kid K’s handsome face, and knocking the powerhitter to the mat. Those aforementioned moments of my delight when I get to watch Reese smile and flex and smirk with the wind at his back show up a couple of times in this match. He doesn’t just score multiple pin falls on Kid Karisma, he folds him into a small package and pounds out a stunning, totally dominating 10-count pin.
That passion I mentioned from Kid Karisma really kicks in after his humiliating 10-count pin. He is all OVER the boy wonder. Reese is pounded corner to corner and all parts in between. He tweaks and taunts Reese’s taut quarter nipples. About a gallon of sweat (most of it Kid K’s) soaks Reese’s white briefs transparent, and our raging heel can’t take his eyes or hands off of the swollen cock head outlined underneath. Frankly, I imagine Kid K can be a gentle lover under the right conditions. But there’s something about the ferocity with which he takes possession of his audacious opponent that makes me think he’s more than happy with an aggro fuck on the tasty little muscle ass of any fitness freak cherubic wunderkind who dares to humiliate him in his own ring. The bearhugs last for days, with Reese thrashing and writhing in the crushing embrace of Kid K’s gargantuan arms. When Kid K squats low, his award winning ass cheeks squeezed out over the top of his tiny black trunks, Reese leans back and lets loose a primal scream that could equally be sexual ecstasy or mortal agony. The position is the perfect marriage of pro wrestling and sex. Kid K clearly isn’t literally fucking the boy wonder is mid air, but the thrill on his face makes me think he’d like to. And, knowing Reese’s penchant for being aroused by cock and ball teasing and punishment (a la Ball Bash 2), I have a strong suspicion he’d be on board for the ride as well.
You can tell how much Kid Karisma wants the boy wonder’s ass by how determined he is to expose it. Repeatedly, he wedgies Reese’s soaked briefs way high up his ass crack. At one point, Reese has the audacity to reach down and dig them partially out, managing to cover back up one sweet, hairy cheek before Kid K interrupts him. “What are you doing!?” KK demands. It’s an unspoken law of homoerotic wrestling that any hunk who takes the time to dig out a wedgie in order to cover his ass back up deserves not just to lose, but to be viciously, erotically, totally humiliated. Kid K knows the rules, and he’s more than happy to be the enforcer, slapping Reese’s hand away and nearly ripping the kid’s briefs apart by the seams, resecuring the wedgie twice as high.
It’s not so surprising that Kid Karisma’s victory in Ring Wars 27 is absolute and domineering. I think he’s the most underrated dominant heel at BG East, and Reese’s hot fantasy body is just one more trophy in an entire wing of trophy cases at chez Karisma. But what isn’t always a given is that Kid K will take it personally as much as he does in this match. The overtly sexual content laced with fuck stakes implications isn’t always this evident.
“You’re cute,” Kid Karisma mutters as he stares down at his unconscious, entirely vanquished opponent in the end. It’s less like a compliment and more like he’s sizing up what’s on the menu. “I hate fucking bitches,” he snarls angrily, still bitter about getting upended by his own hubris. He leaves the destroyed boy wonder in the middle of the ring, but flips him a “fuck you” middle finger farewell that perfectly sums up the vibe from this match. Aggro fuck foreplay.
Kid Karisma is simply perfection. The Best Body award seems the most contentious one each year, but take a look at his gargantuan shoulders and arms, his meaty, perfectly symmetrical pecs, his incredibly ripped torso narrowing and narrowing to the point that his tiny waist rests on the juiciest, most spectacular shelf of ass muscle ever, all the way down to his huge, Rugby-built legs. I’m still waiting for another muscle worship raffle to get my hands on 2016’s Best Body, because I’ll go bankrupt winning that lottery. In the mean time, pucker up and get ready to kiss the world class ass of the ONLY hunk who has earned his 4th homoerotic wrestler of the month title and is, more than 3 years running, STILL my overall favorite homoerotic wrestler, Kid Karisma.
I’ve got a little crush on whoever is charting the social media course for BG East lately. I have bitched and complained mercilessly for a while about the need for homoerotic wrestling companies to up their social media game. It feels like the industry is solidly migrated to almost entirely a virtual existence online (DVD’s seeming to be going the way of the dinosaur, e.g.), so relying on eyes to reach company home pages on their own seems risky these days. And any failure to engage and titillate and evoke and provoke a virtually networked audience in between catalog releases feels downright old fashioned. So I’ve noticed with pleasure BG East’s increasing social media presence, including the excellent designation of this month as #JobberJune.
I’ve been accused in the past of hating on jobbers. I deny it vehemently, of course. Jobbers are an essential ingredient to the pro wrestling universe, and they populate plenty of my fondest homoerotic wrestling fantasies. I admit to being provoked hardest by heels and babyface heroes, but the doomed jobber is always a strongly compelling character as well. We can, and I’m sure will, debate the essence and the margins of what it means to be a jobber. I think of them as those wrestlers who routinely get their asses kicked, for whom a victory would seem an honest surprise. I don’t think of them as merely squash bait. A jobber can put up a fight, and personally I prefer it that way. But considering the sum total of their careers, when a wrestler seems fated again and again to end up beaten and humiliated, he meets my criteria for jobberhood.
The BG East social media maven has been celebrating #JobberJune with sensational call outs to classic jobbers. Casey Cutler, Wade Cutler, and Tony Consenti completely deserve this walk of shame, and seeing their photos suck me right back to lush, key moments in which watching them wrestle had me rock hard for the potent melodrama of seeing them earnestly throwing their hot bodies into the breach again and again, only to get trashed and tossed to the curb. My nostalgia button is punched hard with seeing this retrospective of hot, doomed hunks from across the decades.
Adorably upright Ken Canada got a richly deserved spot in the #JobberJune rotation. A long-standing friend of this blog, Ken was that upstanding, earnest babyface brand of jobber. His lean muscles, lightly hairy pecs, and button nose were the sensational framework for a jobber. Especially after interviewing him, I think of Ken as this supremely earnest, eager, fully game hunk who had sensational raw material for competitive wrestling, which made his lamb-to-slaughter narrative that much more compelling.
So I’m putting #JobberJune on my recurring calendar notifications for years to come. And I’m excited to see who the social media maven at BGE comes up with next for the #JobberJune walk of shame. I’d most definitely nominate gorgeous little firecracker Reese Wells, who always seemed right on the edge of wrestling glory, only to be literally upended before the final fall.
Then there’s Ricky Martinez. Everything about him in still frame screamed sensationally equipped competitor, but over and over his pristine beauty was ruined by viciousness, cunning, and extravagant dirty tricks.
Surely top contender for the most popular jobber in BGE history has to be Rio Garza. I always longed to see Rio mobilize that fantasy man body to do better in competition. In retrospect, Rio’s capacity to make me call him out as a doormat has been, of course, testimony to what a compelling jobber he’s been. Being literally a winner of fan polls for best body AND possessing one of the most lopsided win-loss records on the books points to some of the most potent elements to why jobbers inhabit our wrestling fantasies. Beauty spoiled. Hot bodies broken down and laid bare. Ambition and promise crushed by an opponent more than willing to go darker, deeper, and nastier. Jobbers tell a story that turns us on.
Tommy Tara, Christopher Bruce, Mr. E, Muscle Mask… we keep watching not because we actually expect to see them pull out a victory. Personally, I want to be held in suspense, even if I know that fates are aligned against a particular hunk in the long run. But we watch because there’s something provocative about watching a man charge into the fray courageously, without a shred of realistic hope of coming out on top. It’s less about how a wrestler stacks up against any particular opponent, but more about a psychic flaw within him that makes the tick in the loser column inevitable, despite his most valiant efforts and magnificent potential. Somebody’s got to lose, and I think it’s a relatively rare wrestler who can do it so compellingly that we’re eager again and again to watch him do it, to see what inadequacy an opponent will discover amid a hot, powerful hunk’s blatantly obvious assets for kicking ass.
Who’s your favorite jobber? Post a #JobberJune reply to BG East’s Facebook page and give the jobbers some well deserved love.
So a summer sangria toast to the jobbers, this #JobberJune. And to the BG East social media maven, the first round is on me.
Never one to fail to jump on a bandwagon, my thoughts this Thursday are turned backward for a “Throwback Thursday” life review. As I approach the 5th anniversary (!!!?) of neverland, it strikes me often how time can be warped in my memory as I reflect on what I’ve posted here over the years. Some things I swear that I’ve harped on over and over, but when I do a systematic search, I discover I’ve perhaps mentioned just once in passing. Some things I think I’ve never, ever said, I discover (not infrequently pointed out by a reader) I’ve most definitely put into print. So today is a trip down memory lane, digging like a geologist into the strata of the years to consider what March 20 has meant in the life of neverland.
My first March 20th post was 4 years ago today, and I was remarking on the still nascent offerings of Rock Hard Wrestling. Specifically, I reviewed RHW’s double match release of Brody Hancock v Cameron Davis as a double-header along with Brody & Shawn Lawson double-teaming (does that make it a quadruple-header?) imminently deserving Zack Johnathan. Back than I was full of critique and advice, probably a little too heavy handed with the wisdom. Time has taught me a little more humility, I think. I hope. In any case, I still say Brody’s double-layered trunks (does that make it an octuple-header?) was a buzz kill and wrestling for gay eyes should use at least 1/3 less fabric in constructing ring gear than straight-up mainstream pro. I haven’t posted on RHW in a while, after covering their releases pretty extensively years ago. Not sure why.
A year leader, in 2011 I was playing Name That Ass, a game that I probably found a lot more fun that readers did. Then again, some of you played along, and even Queer Me Now covered the genre. And seriously now, what’s not to love about studying in exquisite detail finely crafted homoerotic wrestling asses? The asses teased in that March 20th post were, in order, Tyrell Tomsen, multiple best butt award winner Kid Karisma, Mark Wolff, John Magnum, and Coupe. No one posted a perfect score in that round. Perhaps I need to pull Name That Ass out of mothballs to give you more practice.
March 20, 2012 was a Bodies-Over-Time focus on the stunningly evolving body of BG East’s Charlie Panther. I’d just seen his newest release at the time, absolutely defining a squash against Tim Messina in Pros in Private 9 and earning the homoerotic wrestler of the month title around these parts. Homoerotic wrestlers of the month have continued to be a theme since I started handing them out, and Charlie was a most excellent entry into the HWOTM hall of fame. At some point, I should do some soul searching about what subsequent HWOTM say about me and my evolving/stagnating tastes.
Interestingly, last year on this date, I didn’t post at all. This was in the middle of a several-week drought, which happens not too infrequently around these parts. The nearest post was the day before, when I was resurrecting a theme that has possessed these pages since THE VERY BEGINNING, namely, Chris Cuomo and the need for more hotly muscled skin in the news. Specifically, I was extremely excited by the prospect of massively muscled Latino pretty boy Gio Benitez joining the reporting pool at GMA. GMA has yet to truly capitalize on the sheer magnetism of Gio’s mammoth pecs, but I still get a little giddy when I see him on air. I’m quite certain you will continue to read more about my ongoing obsession with new hunks.
It’s an interesting core sampling of what has made neverland hold my attention over the years, looking back at this date in history. Some things change. Some things stay the same (including periods of radio silence as life distracts me from what’s really important, homoerotic wrestling). And, as always, I just follow my fanaticism for the homoeroticism of wrestling where it takes me.
I won’t name names, because that ALWAYS gets me in more trouble than it’s worth. I’ll just say that the same disappointing thought has occurred to me more than once recently as I’ve been sampling homoerotic wrestling new releases. This recurring thought is, Grabbing crotch does not make wrestling homoerotic.
100% homoerotic wrestling featuring (among many other elements) Mitch Colby grabbing Derek da Silva’s crotch in Crotch Crushers 1.
Do you know what I mean? I’ve seen an anecdotal rise in the number of wrestling products marketed to you and me in which the most homo and/or erotic content is almost entirely limited to a crotch grab. Now, I love a nice crotch grab. That goes for all sorts of contexts and purposes, actually. The feel of a pulsing, raging cock in my hand is absolutely intoxicating! Two raging cocks in my hand, and I’m guaranteed to have a hangover the next morning. I do not have anything at all against the homoeroticism of taking another man’s cock firmly in hand, per se.
Jobe Zander looks like he’s searching for his keys at the bottom of his purse in Can-Am’s DeCrotchery 3
But my beef, so to speak, is the over reliance on this device to sell wrestling as gay. I realize that there’s a sub-fetish contingent out there with a particular kink for watching and/or experiencing cock abuse. While I don’t count myself in that particular tribe, I can appreciate and get turned on by some cock control as a tool of soul crushing erotic domination. But if that’s really the only element in a match that might distinguish it from a TBS prime time mainstream episode of plasticized canned wrestling drama, then it’s just got one toe on our side of the fence, as far as I’m concerned.
Gino Liotta and Joshua Goodman engage in mutual crotch crushing as just one element of steamy action in Crotch Crushers 2.
Running across a bevy of barely homoerotic wrestling trying to take a short cut with crotch shots as credentials for checking in with you and me as gay-oriented has started to grate on my nerves. So sure, you squeezed his balls… if you’ve got a disinterested look on your face, it sort of douses the heat. You grabbed a handful of whatever is stuffed down the front of his trunks, okay. But, if neither your hand nor his suffering seem to sell me that you’re about to rip him apart out of a primal lust to own his muscled body, then the stagecraft wears thin.
Friend of neverland, Ben Monaco, convinces me long before he goes for Alex Arias’ crotch that he’s all-in for homoerotic wrestling in Mat Rookies 1!
All this begs the question, of course, what it is that distinguishes some wrestling as homoerotic and others as something else. Of course, mainstream wrestling can turn me on (when it isn’t pissing me off with over-the-top homophobia). Just about any wrestling itself speaks to me as homoerotic almost by definition. But I propose that there’s an ontologically different beast that is homoerotic wrestling. I’ve danced around this topic many times in the past. It’s a know-when-I-see-it sort of concept, in large part. It also overlaps with the cliche of “chemistry” between wrestlers, which is nearly impossible to quantify but, nevertheless, is unmistakable when its absent. I don’t know that I can put a finger on the baseline requirements (for me), but what makes something distinctively homoerotic wrestling always hits me on many levels.
Of course, explicit sexuality never hurts to sell wrestling as homoerotic. A suck, a fuck, a kiss even (especially), and I’m a long way to being sold that this wrestling is all about me and my kink. Hell, just having the boys talk openly about the eroticism hanging in the air between them is plenty to suck me in, and when it’s done right, eroticized banter will rev me up a hundred times hotter than an going-through-the-motions post-match fuck.
Reese Wells works 5 different angles at once in dishing out dominating abuse over Jobe Zander’s package in Ball Busters 1.
It doesn’t require explicitness, though. It can be the fixed gaze of one wrestler and the self-conscious glance at the ground by the other that piques my homoerotic wrestling gaydar. It can be the intimacy of the setting, the gear, the lighting even, that contribute to making me recognize that this is homoerotic wrestling. It can, and often is, one wrestler so narcissistic that he convinces me that, if humanly possible, he’d fuck himself into a stupor if that annoying opponent of his would just get the fuck out of his face.
The best in the business push the homoerotic button from the instant the camera brings them into focus. Homoerotic wrestlers of the month Cage Thunder and (spoiler alert… keep reading at your own risk… oh, wait, too late!) Lightning Rod aka KV are beautiful examples. A half a second after I see their eyes lock onto the body of their opponents like sizing up a juicy filet, I understand without a doubt that the combat that’s about to unfold is first and foremost sexual. They communicate a hunger to grab hold of and consume their opponent that’s instantly arousing. The crotch grab is perfectly homoerotic when they latch on and threaten to rip an opponent out by the roots, because of everything else they’ve done to make it clear that they get off on this!
In Ball Bash 2, Reese Wells gets harder the more vicious Jonny Firestorm attacks his crotch! Now that’s homoerotic and hot!
There are plenty of wrestling products that push me way over the edge without ever veering into crotch grabs, fucking, or nudity even. They’re often completely homoerotic in my eyes for a dozen other elements that signal to me that this isn’t wrestling for 8 year-old boys with g-rated comic book fantasies of heroes and villains. And equally as true, a gratuitous ball claw or tug at a cock is seldom the end-game for landing a wrestling match firmly within the circle of what I consider gay-themed, for gay eyes, wrestling kink, or homoerotic.
Unmasked and unsheathed, Stinger swells with excitement as Homoerotic Wrestlers of the Month Cage Thunder and Lightning Rod batter his stinger mercilessly.
As the photos I’ve attached to this post illustrate, the crotch grab is a delightfully hot tool in the tool belt of the accomplished homoerotic wrestler. When it’s dished out in measured quantity, it’s fantastic! When placed as an integral component of an onslaught of unmistakably homoerotic content, the crotch grab is often precisely the point at which I lose all self-restraint. However, and I’m not naming names, but I just need to say it: solely based on a wrestler grabbing his opponent’s crotch, it doesn’t make it homoerotic wrestling. A one-trick pony gimmick in an otherwise lukewarm bath of run of the mill wrestling does not a homoerotic wrestling match make.
Damn! Did you see the newest muscle stud at Thunder’s Arena? He wrestles as “Python,” which draws attention to the body part that certainly inspires hard-swallowing awe within me: his beautifully peaked biceps. There’s a lot on Python’s gorgeous physique to appreciate. He’s got a hot, broad upper back, beautiful pecs, very nice abs, and one damn adorably goofy grin. But again I say: damn! The peaks on those biceps are a—mazing! I haven’t seen his rookie debut with Angel yet, but I’ve got a deep down craving to see that right bicep of Python’s slowly wrapped around Angel’s neck from behind and then methodically flexed until the pointed peak of that monster crushes Angel’s throat in a name’s-sake rear choke. Follow that up with the rookie shoving that mountainous muscle in his dazed, battered opponent’s face and making him kiss it, and I’d be wasted (for at least a couple of minutes).
Can-Am’s iconic muscle man: Steve Sterling
Arms do not, as a rule, capture my attention first and foremost on most wrestlers. Not that I don’t appreciate hot, strong arms and especially Popeye-bulging forearms (Jonny Firestorm, I’m looking at you), but my eyes tend to instinctively lock onto other geography. Hot, meaty glutes, for example, or luscious, clawable pecs are frequently tops on my list. Armored abs, a hefty package (a-hem, Mr. Joshua), and thick, bear-trap thighs will tend to be higher on my list than arms. But on some wrestlers, and when I’m in the mood, arms light up my homoerotic imagination and make me feel all creative about the best uses for sculpted arm muscles. For example, I can’t help but picture Can-Am classic Steve Sterling cracking walnuts between his bodybuilder biceps and freakishly huge forearms. Then I tend to picture my cock trapped in the same spot, and with a little oil, working up a frot fantasy that only a musclebound arm like that can satisfy.
Thunder’s Arena’s Muscle Phenom: Coupe
Thunder’s resident muscle freak Coupe’s biceps aren’t as massive as Steve Sterling’s, but holy fuck that vascularity and shape makes me gasp every time I see them. Coupe is a phenomenon. I often throw around the hyperbole of wrestlers sporting 0% body fat, but it’s no exaggeration when it comes to muscle freak Coupe. He’s so cut and sculpted that I have to imagine if Coupe just faced the right opponent, he’d bring a man to his knees by just flashing those double biceps and that cocky I-dare-you-not-to-lick-them grin. This man needs to star in a wrestling match-turned full contact body worship feature like nobody’s business! Thunder’s may not be the company to produce it, but I’ll be the first in line to be that opponent!
Reese Wells and his Magic Biceps
I’ve noted on many occasions the particular magic that Reese Wells (aka Brody Hancock) weaves over me. He’s a living paradox. That pubescent face of his is completely diverting from the fact that the boy sports incredibly mature, aesthetically gorgeous muscle! He seems like one of those genetic freaks who’s probably always complaining about how hard it is for him to put on weight (which, in and of itself, is a reason for a beating in my book). I swear, at the right angle, in the wrong light, Reese would be easily mistaken for a skinny kid. Then BOOM!!!!… the boy flashes a double bicep and out of nowhere he’s got astonishing muscle mass squeezed into his upper arms like surgically inserted softballs. Where the fuck does he hide those guns!?! There’s a skinny-kid-opens-a-can-of-whoop-ass-on-his-big-bad-bully fantasy just dying to be taped, culminating in Reese flashing one of his Houdini biceps in his former-tormentor’s face while cranking out a load of cum all over the humiliated bastard’s chest.
BG East Fantasy Man: Tyrell Tomsen
BG East’s Tyrell Tomsen’s arms let loose a flood of lustful fantasies for me frequently. So sure, Tyrell’s got the whole package (that should probably be Package with a capital “P!”). Tyrell’s ass, legs, pecs, tiny little waist, washboard abs… they’ve all been star players in climactic fantasies of mine. But when I watch Tyrell actually wrestling, it’s his gargantuan biceps that frequently have me muttering at the screen. He’s got the raw mass of Steve Sterling and the stunning shape and cut of Coupe. There’s something pristinely paradigmatic about Tyrell wrapping those monsters around his opponent’s back, lifting the lucky fucker off his feet, and squeezing the breath and the will to live out of him while shaking his prey like a rag doll. This scenario has been approximated, mind you, but I’m hard pressed to see how a lucky opponent in that predicament doesn’t cum with his cock getting crushed and dragged up and down across Tyrell’s washboard, so I’m picturing him tossing the loser to the mat with a pint of cum strung between them, and Tyrell forcing the bastard to lick him clean with some special attention paid to his sweaty armpits.
Can-Am’s Thiago Diaz is built to crush!
Can-Am’s Thiago Diaz has 2 equally prominent objects of my lusts: his fireplace poker cock and his incredibly huge arms! Rip Steve Sterling in the prime of his conditioning out of the past and place him side by side with Thiago, and I’d put money on Thiago as having the bigger upper arms. Steve would have the Can-Am newbie beat for overall body proportions, mind you. Thiago’s lower body lags behind his upper body development pretty dramatically, but those shoulders and arms are like a cartoon drawing of a muscleman superhero. And since we’ve already transported Sterling into the present from the prime of his career, I can’t help but get wildly turned on by the image of Thiago nearly ripping Steve’s head off in a dragon sleeper with his veiny, massive bicep pressed perfectly across the classic bodybuilder’s carotid.
BG East’s Magnificent Mitch Colby
So, sure, I’ve spilled more ink on the pages of this blog over every inch of Mitch Colby’s body than just about anything else, but honestly, those biceps! Sweet Jesus-or-whomever-else-you-pray-to! Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous! Strength, beauty, proportion… I can’t remember if I’ve ever seen it in a Mitch match, but in my mind, I’ve often pictured him with those mile-and-a-half-long limbs clamped around an opponent’s lower abdomen in a rear bearhug, lifting the luckyluckylucky loser off his feet and grinding his gorgeous cock into his opponent’s crack. Mitch-the-man squeezes a screaming submission out of him, then simultaneously takes the loser from behind while flexing his guns hypnotically as he generously jacks-off the overwhelmed plaything.
BG East One-Hit Wonder: Gary Myers’ biceps have biceps!
In hunting for which homoerotic wrestling arms send me shooting the farthest, I came across this image of BG East muscleboy, Gary Myers. I haven’t seen this match yet, but this should be the image next to the dictionary entry for “fantasy man.” So much to soak in, I know, but take a close look at those mind-blowing biceps. The peaks on those monsters have peaks of their own! It looks like this muscleboy only wrestled once, but fortunately, it was against the vicious sadist and bodybeautiful heel Jose. I can’t tell from the stills from the match whether Jose captured Gary from behind and locked up all those bulging muscles in a full nelson, but I can hope. And if Jose happened to do a little licking of Gary’s peaked peaks, then all is right with the world. If not, then this fantasy will have to live only in my imagination, though I can always hope to see it born out with one of the bicep-beauties still in the business today.
As I wrap up this small package, I’d just like to make the observation that several of the homoerotic wrestlers who I think of as having massive, gorgeous arms, on closer inspection really don’t. Not that there’s anything wrong with merely mortal muscle arms, of course. It’s the whole package with a sweet dose of attitude and kinetic eroticism that makes homoerotic wrestling my favorite kink and passion. But when I’m in the mood that Thunder’s rookie Python puts me in, there’s something awfully arousing about the top shelf quality beef of musclebound arms in homoerotic wrestling competition.
Christmas came a little early for me this year, and I was treated to some presents directly off of my wish list of matches-to-own. Personally, I would’ve thought I’d have fallen into the “naughty” category. But I’m not asking any questions.
Thumbing through the catalog for things that might show up under my tree, I’ve lately been aching for Ball Bash 2. Truth be told, I’ve got a little crush on Reese Wells aka Brody Hancock. Well, more accurately, I fantasize about crushing him. He’d put up a good fight, mind you, and he’s got some sweet sell. But in the end he’d be screaming a submission wracked across my shoulders, before I rubbed salt in the wound by dropping his back across my knee. When all is said and done and his spirit is broken, I’d walk away with his boots to hang them up as a trophy of good times.
Fortunately for me, Jonny Firestorm has handed Reese precisely the type of treatment I think Reese desperately needs. I wasn’t expecting Ball Bash 2 to be quite so competitive. However, there’s plenty of pretty salesmanship going in all directions for most of this match before it turns into a full-on ball bash squash. Jonny always impresses, and this match is no different. He’s got instincts for delivering exactly the content, pacing, and humiliation that makes ring action my cup of tea.
I have to remind myself that this release came out before anything else that I’ve seen Reese in. This is significant for me because although I’ve seen him flirt with full-on homoeroticism, never since have I seen Reese wrestle naked. And that’s a shame, because he’s got a really beautiful cock, and there’s something about the optical illusion that is Reese’s body that somehow makes perfect sense when he’s in the ring in nothing but those boots (that’d I’d rip off of him and take home with me). I’ve seen the career trajectory that starts out with some stud just translating straight-up wrestling for a homoerotic company, and then eventually evolves into a balls out, naked, full-on homoerotic fantasy fighter. But someone who goes the other direction seems like a novelty (and a little bit of a waste, as far as I’m concerned).
The moment in this match that completely captures me, though, comes when Reese still has his speedos on. Things have been relatively traditional up to this point, with Jonny and Reese taking and giving in approximately equal measure. But when Jonny snaps his legs around Reese’s waist, presses wide the pretty boy’s legs, and grabs hold and squeezes Reese’s balls, this match instantly careens off the straight-up tracks and deep into homoerotic territory. But it’s this moment in particular, and specifically, it’s Reese’s sell of this moment, that captures my imagination. Reese has nowhere to go. Jonny is showing all his cards, including the fantastic revelation that he’s out for nothing short of blood curdling screams. And Reese is writhing in pain, stunningly vulnerable, and totally humiliated. And with his jaws open wide in agony, Reese kisses the mat.
Good god, that kiss just sends me. It’s such an excellent moment of helpless agony. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a BIG fan of Reese’s destruction without trunks, and I’m nearly as enthusiastic about the target-thong that Jonny makes him wear, which is delightfully inadequate to contain Reese’s impressive member that simply can’t be described as entirely flaccid throughout the remainder of the bull busting. All the moving parts to this match line up perfectly, I think. Jonny is impeccable. Reese is astonishing for a “rookie.” The bodies, the wrestling, the setting, the gear (and lack thereof), are all brilliant. But it’s Reese’s lips planted on the floor in agony that makes this match one of my favorites. Thanks, Santa.
A comment by Joe made me start thinking about my wish-list. This is the time of year when kids start asking themselves what their fondest desires are, isn’t it? The promise of gifts to come, the magic of dreams appearing from out of nowhere underneath a Christmas tree made me start thinking of what Santa might send me. Most pertinent to this blog is my list of gay wrestling products that I don’t yet own but probably will, sooner or later. Note, this isn’t a plea for anyone to fill my wish-list. Rather, this is just a rhetorical device to do more of what I enjoy doing most around here: discussing what works for me in homoerotic wrestling.
Starting with a few newer items from the catalog, I’ve got my eye on Ball Bash 2. I’ve been delighted by the pics in BG East’s Arena for quite some time. I’ve also been tracking Reese Wells’ (aka Brody Hancock) career across promotions over the past year or so. Reese tells a sweet tale. He’s (sort of) a skinny kid with a respectable arsenal of pro moves and attitude to transform him in the ring into a bully-killer. And though I say he’s “sort of skinny,” truth is, his body is quite the meat market, packed with long, lean, clearly hard-worked muscles, including rock hard abs, solid round pecs, and surprisingly bulging biceps. What particularly attracts me to Ball Bash 2 is that it seems to stick out in Reese’s portfolio as the only thing (at least that I can find) featuring him naked with all attention centered explicitly on his impressive cock and balls. In case Reese never returns to the darker, naked, sadomasochistic side of homoerotic wrestling, I’d like to own this little piece of history and enjoy it at my leisure.
Mat Hunks 8 is another recent release that I haven’t snapped up yet, but probably will. Every mat hunk in this line up has starred in a satisfying wrestling fantasy for me (Chris Bruce, Alexi Adamov, Mikey Vee and Denny Cartier). Truth be told, it’s Denny that’s making me long for Mat Hunks 8 more than anything. Frankly, I think that Denny is still looking for who he “is” in homoerotic wrestling. He’s sometimes a little green, sometimes a little sadistic/savvy, sometimes walks in with a dose of humility, sometimes walks in with an “I can fuck up anybody” attitude. As he works on character development, in any case, I never fail to be intoxicated by his body, and even more, by his body in motion. He’s clearly an accomplished, veteran amateur wrestler with speed, balance, and body savvy to bring authentic wrestling cred to his work. I just love watching him work, and the promise of watching him work and get worked over by Mikey Vee is pure fantasy come to life.
Masked Mayhem 6 is my third recent release to show up on my wish list. It all looks good, of course. Muscle Mask jobbing, Jonny in fighting trim, Cage Thunder in the ring. But you know as well as I do that it’s Rafe (mmmmm… Rafe) that’s calling to me. Rafe in the ring against a veteran heel is just too delicious to pass up. Sooner or later, this will be mine.
I also maintain a laundry list of “classics” from farther back in the library. I frequently pick up something from way back to add onto an order for a new release, to try to catch up with all the fantastic stuff that happened before I was actively collecting. Hard Pros 2 is a case in point. The line-up looks like a barnburner from A-Z, including fantasymen Jay Austin, Wade Cutler and Steve Sherman, along with hard heels with astonishing attributes like Max Dare and Jose.
Sadly, some of the classics that look mindboggling fantastic don’t appear to be still on the market (yet?). For example, all of the Bratpack series look fantastic, but I can only find them in the Arena and on some previews from my “older” BGE products, not for sale from the BGE website. Bratpack 12 would be where I’d start, I think. The trailer for this one caught my eye, and the line up (including TNT, Animal Ayben, Jumpin Joe Jaksyn, both Romano twins and Syddo Riley) all look like fantastic characters I’d love to see in the basement/underground genre.
I’m still waiting/hoping for some of the classic Private Bouts series to be converted to DVD. From that treasure trove, I’d start with Private Bouts 32-36, primarily to see a painfully young DW in action against Chase and Brian Baxter against Scott “Dark” Rogers.
The anticipation is frequently almost as sweet as the consummation of the moment when what I’ve dreamed of is at last in hand. But I promise, Santa, I will not grow tired of these toys. I will not break them. And I will, most definitely, continue to play with them over and over and over again, for years to come.