Tag: Rick Roma

Rumble Again

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As I’ve mentioned, I was honored and overwhelmed to be asked by Sir Dark to help out behind the scenes with his production of Watchfighters Rumble 2. It’s impossible to convey the vibe in that NYC hotel room packed with 32 smoking hot wrestlers itching for their shot at plowing their way through that deep, deep field in order to come out on top. Part of the genius of a spectacle like this is you’re almost guaranteed to have at least one WF favorite (or many more) in the mix. Honestly, it was a large hotel room, particularly for Manhattan, but there was just no room to move without bumping into one hot wrestling hunk after another in various states of undress. Not that I mind bumping into hot wrestling hunks, mind you. But then Sir Dark put a camera in my hands and told me to me get down to the business of capturing this submission-elimination rumble on video. Fuck, talk about feeling torn. A huge part of me just wanted to eye fuck this boiling brood of muscle and ego churning on the mat in front of me. But Sir Dark also terrifies me just a little, so I was also feeling extra motivated to do my very best to capture on camera something that did justice to the incredibly sexy spectacle playing out in that unsuspecting corner suite.

Well, the fruit of my labor and, much more importantly, the brainchild of Sir Dark and the incredibly hot wrestling of 32 grapplers has been revealed, and you can now stream Watchfighters Rumble 2 (Parts 1 and 2) and see how we all did. To be clear, I was behind one of two cameras that day, the other being manned by cousin Scooter. By the time we pushed record, it had already been absolute chaos, which, true, is Sir Dark’s brand. Late arrivals, wrestlers shoulder-to-shoulder gearing up, some pre-match promos… so much going on, and I desperately wanted to savor every single thing at the same time. Just getting 32 rowdy wrestlers to pipe down for the start of the match was drama, but finally, with Sir Dark running the show, one by one, the wrestlers took to the mats, vying to be the last man standing.

Kicking the melee off were KC Ryder and Mickey Knoxx. KC is a total babe who I got to watch wrestle for the first time last year at Wrestlefest Live ’25. I love his energy and that viking marauder hotness, but if you know me at all, you know my eyes were glued to Mickey. Fuck, that man is hot! KC bullies Mickey with an opening side headlock, and like a fucking boss, Mickey hip tosses Ragnar and mounts him like he’s finally had enough of getting called a jobber. If you’re watching the video, this camera angle you see at the opening is mine, and you can practically see my ambivalence, torn between capturing the entire scene and wanting to center ever second on Mickey’s magnificent ass.

Mickey mean (regardless how he’s doing in the match) is the energy I’m trying to channel for 2026. He headscissors KC, sneers into the viking’s pained eyes, and slaps him in the face. And then starts wave after wave of wrestlers clocking in for their turn at stirring the pot and doing their best to clear the field with submissions. Seon Cruz is entrant #3, and instantly, the energy level slams all the way to 11! Whenever there is an odd number of wrestlers on the mat, someone is getting double-teamed, which is fucking drama. The pup is all long limbs and aggressive, with devastating holds, but even behind that mask, he absolutely always looks like he’s loving life like a dog with a new bone.

Rick Roma was counted in as entrant #4. As I mentioned in my review of Rick and Sir Dark’s tag team match at Live, Rick is passionate and fierce, though I think his pro-style fills a ring better than the mat. Whenever there’s four wrestlers on the mat at the same time, the action almost always plays out with pairing off into parallel play. Seon and Mickey go at each other with a hot passion, while Rick looks like he’s trying to take advantage of the fact that KC’s been on the mat from the start. There’s a super sexy beat where Seon and KC strike side-by-side leg nelson’s on their targets in this fun, spontaneous way that’s becomes a gorgeous work of art.

In terms of my camera work, I did my best not to show too much favoritism to Mickey’s award winning ass. You’ll have to let me know if you see my biases in terms of frame and focus. But, then again, a whole lot of fresh competitors immediately tucked in to get a piece of Mickey’s delicious hotness, so I had plenty of excuses. Dante Lesen, who I interviewed about three years ago, clocked into the scene with the vibe of the giant at the top of the beanstalk who gets off on crushing little guys into jelly. The big boy end of the roster starts seriously crowding the mat when Wrestlefest Rumble 1 champ, Kayden Keller, stomps onto the scene as entrant #6. With Dante and Kayden in the 6’2/6’3 height range, figuring out how to frame the hotness in the camera lens got seriously challenging. Tall boys standing, wrestlers flat on the mat and stacked on top of each other… where the fuck do I point the camera!?! So much fucking hot drama! It’s a full 6 minutes in when the first submission goes down with, of course, Kayden wringing it out of the unlucky first out Seon with a brutal camel clutch. Still, so much fucking wrestling was left on the mat.

I feel like warning the wrestlers on the mat, distracted with trying to top each other off, that the shit is about to go down when Bobby Carter is counted in. Bobby is this fucking wall of muscle and take-no-prisoner’s aggression that instantly gets me hard (which makes paying attention to the camera work challenging). Bobby’s sapphire blue posing trunks have no chance of keeping his gorgeous glutes corralled, and he has this magnificent way of not giving a fuck as he’s focused like a laser on serving up hot suffering. I sort of want to resent him for being the one to eliminate Mickey with that savage ball claw, but I can’t pull it off. Bobby’s too fucking hot and entertaining for me to hate on. Yet another tall boy heavyweight, Dynamo, is counted in around the 9-minute mark, and fuck, it starts to look like an avalanche when, in various combinations, Dante, Kayen, and Dynamo start cooperating. KC is the first victim of the heavyweight cabal who finally eliminate the wrung out viking. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat and looking hungry to make mischief, Drake Marcos is counted in and there’s a palpable shift in focus as he, Rick, Bobby, and Dynamo all descend like a swarm on Kayden. Fuck, I never get tired of seeing big, brutal bad boy Kayden getting wrung out, and the quadruple-team absolutely fucks him up until the Rumble 1 champ is humiliatingly dethroned, tapping out in panic.

If you think eliminating Kayden might level the field for the middleweights, think again. Wrestlefest Live ’25 champ, Tarz Lando clocks in, and raw, brute force, heavyweight muscle keeps telling the story on the mat. Fuck, that muscle beast is a force of nature! Tarz crushes the fuck out of two or three stunned opponents at a time, starting to seriously clear the table wringing submissions out of Drake and Dynamo in quick succession. Bobby also taps in a foldover pin with those magnificent cheeks sadly being eliminated. The next entrant, Barrett, barrels onto the scene, and Tarz almost immediately makes him regret it. Cameraman extraordinaire Miles X clocks in and makes the dangerous calculation to team with big Tarz to beat the shit out of Barrett‘s balls, which I don’t think is exactly the worst situation Barrett could imagine for himself, to be honest. And then, at the 16-minute mark, a total wildcard I never saw coming is counted in, Chris Collins.

I’ve seen Chris online before, but holy fuck, in-person he’s both more gorgeous and more diminutive than on screen. Seriously, he looks like a lamb to the slaughter. Like, honestly, I was literally feeling this impulse to pick him up by the scruff of the neck and yank him to safety before he could get broken to pieces. But then the sexy little minx marks out who he’s going to go at first, and it’s… Tarz Lando. Holy fucking shit! The chemistry between massive, burly muscle beast Tarz and petite, lean and limber Chris takes me completely by surprise. Watching the video gives me exactly the feel I had recording the scene at the time. Chris fearlessly swarming all over Tarz is fucking hot as hell. Even Tarz doesn’t seem to be quite able to believe it, as he tries repeatedly, and fails repeatedly, to yank the “spider monkey” off his back. Genuinely, Chris absolutely shocks by squeezing a submission out of Tarz with bodyscissors, and then he won’t let go! Like, Tarz is trying to crawl off the scene, and Chris will not let him! The ferocious little ferret is all accelerator, no brakes, and he’s got a taste for devouring beef! No shit, he squeezes a second shocking submission out of Tarz with those gorgeous, lean legs clamped around the big man’s head!

It’s masked mayhem for the next three entrants to the stunning drama. This is my first look at Alex the Great, Masked Machine, and Red Adrian who, in that order, bring fresh muscle and intensity to the mat. Alex immediately goes after Chris, and I can’t decide if this is genius strategy going after the spunky little spider monkey who can wring two submissions out of Tarz Londo, or just opportunistic because Alex absolutely dwarfs and dominates him. Masked Machine lands like a cruise missile locked onto Barrett’s balls, and even Barrett’s notorious ball bashing tolerance crumbles, making him tap out of contention. Red Adrian shows up with that mask and those fucking gargantuan pecs and, fuck, you’ve just got to pause and admire those slabs of meat! Someone could feast for days on those pecs! Chris’ face absolutely disappears, buried deep between Red Adrian’s mountainous pecs, and I’m not sure if he just might drown way down there!

So, part 1 of the Rumble wraps up with Chris Collins, Masked Machine, Alex and Great, and Red Adrian on the mat and a whole lot of other hopefuls slinking off with their bodies and egos bruised and their hopes to climb out of this pit on top dashed. And half the field is fresh, untested, and chomping at the bit to get their shot in the second half of Wrestlefest Rumble! Even though I was there in person, it’s still stunning to watch this play out on the screen, with about thirty mini-dramas, 16 wrestling hunks (in just this first half of the roster), and 12 eliminations leaving bruised egos piled up off camera in that shoulder-to-shoulder packed NYC hotel room. Honestly, several of my favorite beats from the entire rumble played out in part 1, but the second half the roster featured still more of my long-time favorite wrestling hunks dialing up the drama, spicing up the action with even more erotic twists and turns, and leaving exactly one fan-favorite wrestler outlasting everyone to become the new Wrestlefest Rumble champ.

Chaos Demons

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Videos from Wrestlefest NYC are coming out, which is exciting to see. I’m particularly excited to get another look at the Wrestlefest Live matches, because, as I’ve mentioned, I was a bit distracted trying to take my responsibilities as ring announcer seriously. I don’t want to sound like I’m bitching about it. I was honored as hell to be invited to be the ring announcer. But, damn, there’s a lot more to being ring announcer than I realized! So, my attention was divided as the string of super hot wrestling matches played out between me climbing in and out of the ring announcing each match.

You can find on Watchfighters the third match on the card, a tag team match between the Gothletes (Rocko Mortis and Dash Halley) and Team Vendetta (Sir Dark and Rick Roma). The crowd was pretty pumped and primed by the time this match was cued up. The energy was high well before I introduced the Gothletes, who charged into the room looking like the walking dead version of some hot, hunky college baseball team. Rocko and Dash were all in, instantly arguing with the crowd and brandishing a wooden baseball bat like Chekhov’s gun that you know is going to feature before this tag team drama is over. The sneers and snarls, the hauntingly dark eye shadow, the warmed-over deathly pallor, all signaled that the Gothletes were up to no good, which, let’s face it, doesn’t necessarily preclude them from being fan favorites even when I’m referring to them as “heeling hellions” for their ring entrance.

But there was no doubt about who were the fan favorites once I introduced Team Vendetta. Hailing from Italy (Sir Dark) and Little Italy (Rick) and squeezed into matching Italian flag trunks, Team Vendetta won over fans within seconds with their extensive tour handing out high fives (Rick) and full-mouth kisses (Sir Dark). Even I was treated to a surprise kiss on my way out of the ring that somehow, improbably but true, made me momentarily forget about Dash Halley’s luscious pecs on the other side of the ring. Vendetta brought the smiles and the respect and the super high energy of confident, enthusiastic babyfaces eager to defeat the dark forces facing them and to make the fans proud.

Sir Dark and Rocko squared off to start the match, in this super intense face off of chaos demon versus chaos demon. When I first saw this match promoted months earlier, I literally contacted Sir Dark to ask if it had been a typo. Maybe it should have been Sir Dark and Rocko teaming together? The two of them have this sensationally unhinged energy about them that makes me think of them like bookends. Then again, if they had teamed up, there would’ve been a non-zero probability that the combined havoc they could wreak might tear open a hellmouth that would swallow the Red Eye whole. So, maybe it was a wise call after all. As it played out, fuck, the way the two of them absolutely go to town on each other accelerated this match from 0 to 60 in seconds. They’re both dangerous, and unpredictability is both of their brands. So Rocko’s rapid fire hip toss and attempted stomp to the balls within seconds was just as on brand as Sir Dark’s savage punch to Rocko’s face and the barefoot choke of Rocko’s throat. Rocko headbutts Sir Dark in the balls and bites him in the neck. In turn, Sir Dark delights in treating Rocko to several of his signature moves, including repeatedly spitting in his face, which Rocko relishes opened mouthed and demanding more.

Rick and Dash tell a more calculated story when they’re in the ring. When the two of them are going at each other, there’s a furious back and forth of hot wrestling holds and near pins. Dash locks on a super sweet stepover toehold facelock that threatens to rip Rick’s head off his neck. In turn, Rick’s lariat on Dash nearly decapitates captain pecs, and the crowd keeps boiling over into an impassioned chant of “Roma! Roma! Roma!” Dash takes such a flurry of offense that at one point he slides out of the ring and looks like he’s about to walk off the scene entirely. Sir Dark taunts him from the corner and demands that Dash get his fine ass back in the ring so they can settle this. Dash delivers a super sexy, lip curling sneer as he climbs back onto the ring apron, jabbing a threatening finger toward Sir Dark and explaining, “Only because I’ll get a piece of you later!”

The fifth character in this drama I have neglected to name thus far is, possibly, the linchpin to the entire drama. Rex Cruise is the devastatingly handsome ref, and the pretty boy packed into deliciously tight shorts never stood a chance of controlling anything in this match. Of course, Rex doesn’t’t exactly make it any easier for himself, repeatedly slow to start count-outs alternating with inexplicable count-outs of non-pin submission holds. The crowd starts dumping on the ref about a third of the way into the match, and there’s a strong vibe of two matches happening simultaneously: Gothletes vs Vendetta and Rex Cruise vs the Crowd. One roaring chant of “Ref can’t count” earns the audience a two handed flip off from the ridiculously pretty boy in stripes.

Like I said, Rex had no chance to actually officiate this tornado touching down in the ring. It’s a melee in the end, with all four wrestlers and Rex suddenly packing the ring with fury and bruised egos. That fucking baseball bat is suddenly tossed into the chaos, and one stunned wrestler in particular gets the living shit beat out of him with it. The losers are the ones who just can’t feed their demons fast enough to keep up at the end, getting them snapped up in mirror sleepers and knocked out cold and vulnerable as the rapt crowd goes wild.

Watching this match (again), I’m in awe that this thing didn’t go off the rails a dozen different times. It’s super-fucking-sexy, with crotch-to-face poundings and luxurious body splashes that linger long and hard. But it’s also spinning like a centrifuge, with wrestlers and props and dignity flying out of the ring uncontrollably. I’ll never get tired of cuing up rival chaos demons daring one another to color farther and farther outside the lines. And I cannot get enough of babyface heroes crotch slamming their foes senseless and mugging for the roaring fans. And who do I have to sleep with to see someone suck Dash Halley’s nipples when he makes his third appearance on the card at Wrestlefest NYC ’27 (fingers crossed)?