My Thing

Next May, I’ll be celebrating the 15-year anniversary of starting this blog (someone remind me to celebrate). Just FYI, it’s the crystal anniversary, in case you’re searching for a gift. In those early days, I was figuring out what this blog was about and working to find my voice. There was more pop culture, more hunky journalists, more attempt at incisive critique, and a LOT less use of the word fuck.

Fuck, we’ve come a long way. So much has changed, but some things haven’t. Like, back when I was trying to decide if I’m a homoerotic wrestling “critic,” I posted a lot more about things I didn’t like than I do now. These days, if a wrestler or a match or a gimmick or a company isn’t a pleasure, I don’t take time to try to execute some take down about what doesn’t work for me. But more than a decade ago, I posted the occasional bitch and rant about a particular wrestler who’s overexposed, or a wrestler who (however pretty he might be) irritates me because he sucks so bad as a wrestler.

In hindsight, it makes sense to me that I got pushback, heat even, and sometimes brutal attempts at taking me or my tastes down. Like, I’d bitch about Rio Garza looking soooo pretty, but being overexposed and a poor sell, and one fierce Rio fan would come to his defense with a flame thrower. I complained about Z-Man being a ham and self-consciously over the top, and Z-Man devotees would insult my character and disparage my intelligence. In those early days, I sort of thought that “call ’em like I see ’em” approach to lobbing complaints into the ether lent me credibility, but it set a tone that I honestly regretted, pretty quickly.

I really started trying to right the ship when commenters began leaving scathing, intentionally cruel insults about wrestlers that I praised. There have been a few moments when I’ve debated just turning off all comments, but I’ve generally leaned toward just disallowing particular comments that become personal attacks on specific people. Particularly after I began to interact with these wrestlers, it seemed in poor taste to allow anonymous commenters to talk shit about them, probably mostly just to irritate me for some opinion that they didn’t like. I’ve intercepted or deleted some seriously messed up shit that commenters have put out there, insulting wrestlers’ looks, their bodies, their intelligence, all lobbed facelessly from proxy email addresses in an attempt to torch someone, apparently just for sport.

Again, I realize I contributed to that dynamic early on, but holy fuck, some homoerotic wrestling fans just want to burn some shit down! And it’s as if we all want to “win” the homoeroticism Olympics, or something. Like, there are readers who seem to NEED to convince me that I MUST become infatuated with what they are infatuated by. It includes the superfans who get irritated with me for not writing more about their favorite wrestlers, but it also includes the kinks and niches of homoeroticism that I may, or may not, necessarily get into. There was a superfan of foot worship who came on SO fucking strong for a while, like some sort of televangelist implying eternal hell and damnation if I didn’t spontaneously ejaculate over a sexy pair of bare feet. I mean, honestly, I was curious and explored the intense world of erotic foot worship when he started commenting about it, to really give it a chance. It’s not exactly my thing, I concluded. I mean, fuck, sexy feet are sexy feet, and there’s some value added to the rare toe suck in a homoerotic wrestling match for me. But I’m not exactly a convert, and it isn’t at the heart of what turns me on hard enough to take the time to write about here.

Gut Bash 14: Ash DeLeon vs Kenny Starr(‘s abs)

Gut punchers sometimes come on super strong that way too, like they must convince me to obsess over gut punching and only gut punching or else they must destroy me. Again, enthusiastic gut punchers (front of the line, of course, is Ash DeLeon) have definitely got me to watch a lot more gut punching-themed content than I might have otherwise, so the enthusiasm is NOT wasted on me, I swear. And fuck, some solid punching to a chiseled set of rock hard abs is like exclamation points to the sexiest beat poetry ever. I certainly get what watching gut punching is giving me, which is a little espresso shot of adrenaline around the time my heart is already pounding in my chest, my cock already in hand, and I’m riding the wave for as long as it’ll take me. Watching gut punching by itself, though, doesn’t get me off. It’s a super nice element in the overall drama of a homoerotic battle, but I don’t experience it quite the same way you hardcore gut punching fanatics do. It’s not my thing in quite the way it is for some.

Ultra Fights 2: Scott Williams vs Brad Rochelle (this is my thing!!!)

And I’m totally cool with that. Actually, I really love that! Homoerotic wrestling is a whole lot more delightfully nuanced than anyone outside of our community realizes, I’m sure. My tastes and triggers have been shaped by the enthusiasm of others, and I think that’s an amazingly awesome outcome to blogging for 14+ years and commenting with readers and exchanging emails and interacting on social media. I don’t need everyone to agree with me that what turns me on hardest has to turn them on hardest, as well, though. If you don’t fucking swoon over the sight of Scott Williams slightly dropping his jaw open a bit as he twists his hips and injects pulses of power into his headscissors in a match, that’s okay with me. I mean, I find it bewildering, but I accept it. As I’ve told Scott often and recently, I defy him to find someone to challenge my self-appointed status as his #1 fan and president of his fan club. If your crotch didn’t instantly twitch with excitement when you first heard Lon Dumont’s baritone voice dispassionately demanding that Eddy Rey flex on-demand for him, I can still sleep at night, because my thing doesn’t have to be your thing for me to be incredibly pleased that it’s my thing.

This is most definitely my thing!!! (Fantasymen 32)

This is a rambling post, I realize, but here’s the point: the homoerotic wrestling community is big enough for us to celebrate our diverse passions, and not have to try to burn each other to the ground if we don’t hang our hats on the same pegs. I realize I’m sounding like someone’s grandpa here, but it feels to me like there’s so much slash and burn happening in public discourse in general, and sometimes, it feels to me like it’s got a strong foothold in homoeroticism and wrestling kink circles. I won’t allow comments here on the blog that insult wrestlers, that trash the people who have the balls to strip down to nothing/next to nothing and grapple with one another for our pleasure. I’m relatively thick-skinned in terms of critiques of me and my tastes, but honestly, I’m not interested in being converted by anyone. I enjoy the passionate fan, the commenter eager to make sure I’ve seen a wrestler or a match that particularly turns them on. That’s what this blog has become for me for most of its life, really. Me sharing what’s turning me on, in the hopes it may promote the things that I find so hot, and occasionally me getting the benefit of a few hundred other sets of eyes and tastes of similarly (if not identically) minded fans of homoerotic wrestling. But no one wins if anyone’s enthusiasm succeeds only in shaming and scolding someone else away from doing what they love or enjoying what turns them on.

Ray/Rio vs Zack/Z-Man from Rock Hard Wrestling back when

For any wrestlers who I’ve offended in the past with misguided attempts to deliver harsh love in the form of brutal critique here on the pages of this blog, I apologize. I like to think that I’m more mature and wiser these days, so I hope that hasn’t happened in a while. And, those of you you slayed in the spirit televangelists out there that want to threaten me or anyone else with hell and damnation if we don’t see things the way you do can keep doing your thing. I certainly can’t stop you, even though I can, and occasionally do, prevent you from trying to set fires in the comments here on this blog. I honor your thing, and am happy for you that it gets you off. But it’s okay with me if my thing isn’t your thing, and if your thing isn’t my thing.

BG East Fantasies

It may not have looked like it, but I’ve been pretty damn busy when it comes to exercising my homoerotic wrestling imagination. I’ve authored a few BG East match descriptions for their not new releases. AR and I have been exploring just how up close and personal it can get when we combine my prose and his graphic art, mixed together with a shared passion for homoerotic wrestling, and BG East, in particular (more on that later). And in that vain, I’ve been fishing more of my old archived homoerotic wrestling fiction out of the old, defunct Sidelineland Stories archives and uploading them to the Sidelineland Stories Reboot.

It’s not like BG East doesn’t produce enough blindingly hot wrestling fare to satisfy me, but knowing how out of control my imagination gets, it should come as little to surprise to anyone who reads this blog that I authored my own fan fiction to explore BG East matches that never were. The first match explores the corporate intrigue and espionage that I always imagined was going on between competing homoerotic wrestling companies. This was after Rio Garza had started wrestling with BG East, but then went to Rock Hard Wrestling, and before Z-Man had done the reverse. The tag team match featured those two babyface beauties, facing off against my personal dream team, Mitch Colby and Derek DaSilva.

I also rebooted the story of a fitness model who got in way over his head wrestling for BG East, getting schooled hard by Mitch (yeah, this was deep, deep in my infatuation with Mitch phase). I enjoyed “recruiting” someone new to the BG East universe, and played heavily off of the Contract Series that was still going hot and heavy around then.

The third match I just migrated over to the new archives was the sequel to James Dawson’s tragic contract negotiations with BG East, in which the ripped, gorgeous muscle hunk next had to square off against the bulldozer Joe Robbins.

The fourth old match you can now find in the new archives was another dream combination that, sadly, was never to be IRL. Brad Rochelle and Mitch Colby squared off in that wrestling fantasy, ticking all the boxes of babyface beauties I go weak in the knees for.

And the final match I migrated in this genre (for now) was a super clever little piece that co-author Metellus and worked on, flipping scripts and putting a literal underwear model in the BG East ring against Enforcer, and discovering that not all underwear models are “just” underwear models.

All of these BG East-inspired fantasies have been dovetailing into some really exciting works that AR and I are doing, similarly finding angles and wrestlers that would otherwise just not find their way in front of a BG East camera for real, but who, nevertheless, make for sensationally sexy homoerotic wrestling fantasies in our imaginations. More on that to come soon, I hope!

Corporate Intrigue

I’ve transferred another story from my old archive to the new one, Sidelineland Stories. Re-reading this match makes me chuckle. It also turns me on, again, which is fun to rediscover. There was a period of time when I was, absolutely ignorantly, fueling the rumor mill regarding corporate competition between rival gay-oriented wrestling companies. At the time, I was just noticing that wrestlers were migrating from one company to another, and I was totally providing the back-story that the hot hunks were being nefariously poached. I had no actual insider info about the politics of it all, but that didn’t prevent me from speculating (talking out-my-ass). And we all know the lengths my imagination will take me.

Chasing Rio is a story about corporate espionage and cut-throat headhunting (hunk-hunting, really) among the wresting companies that cater to gay fans. When this was originally written, there were 3 or 4 serious producers on the scene, at least my take on the scene. Rio Garza had just recently begun wrestling for Rock Hard Wrestling under a different name, and it was all sorts of drama going off in my head. These days, it feels like the field has exploded with producers putting content out of their garage, and in the past few years, individual wrestlers marketing their own self-produced materials directly through OnlyFans pages. I’ve got so many opinions about the state of the scene, but I’m going to resist the temptation to go there. Today, at least.

Instead, feel free to tuck in with Chasing Rio, a tag team competition featuring long-standing favorite wrestling crushes Rio Garza, Mitch Colby, Derek da Silva, and Zack Jonathan (Vazquez Z-Man). If you know my opinions well, you probably just chuckled when I listed Z-Man as a favorite. At the time that I wrote Chasing Rio, Z-Man had not ventured onto the BG East roster, and the companies for which he worked did not push him hard enough to really learn the craft of wrestling, in my opinion. A few outings with BG East, which I have on very good authority (you know I’ve got a man inside the operation who feeds me intel) included direct tutelage from The Boss himself, and Z-Man won me over. I still mostly just want to see him get crushed like a pop can, but I readily admit that he can reliably turn me on when he does it these days. I had my gripes about Rio, at times, as well, so consider my tastes carefully.

Z-Man has never been tastier!

A couple of years after I first published this story and stoked the rumor mill about corporate competition and talent poaching, I actually enjoyed (a lot) the opportunity to meet the back office boys at BG East, in real life. The conversation about wrestlers working for competing companies came up, and the powers that be at BG East were adamant that they never imply a non-compete clause when they work with their wrestlers, and that they wish them only the best. Which, frankly, was really cool to hear, from the perspective of a fan. Of course, the BG East boys quickly followed up with the (persuasive) argument that they recruit, train, feature, and promote their wrestlers in ways far superior than anyone else.

Rio Garza the first time most of us ever saw him, which as debuting at BG East.

All my best to the fierce hunks who strip down, oil up, and pound their bodies into each other for the carnal pleasure of gay wrestling fans like you and me. I’m just thrilled for the way that they fuel my wrestling fantasies, and I hope that they enjoy long careers and happy lives. Interestingly, I believe that Z-Man may be the only star of Chasing Rio still on the scene, and I’m not entirely sure even he is. I’d love to hear what life is like for fantasymen like these hunks, after the cameras are off, and they’re looking back (hopefully proudly) at their wrestling careers.

Ode to OTK

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Zip Zarella wrings the Z out of Z-Man

It’s been a long time since I composed a post devoted solely to admiring a particular wrestling hold. I’ve been recently obsessing once again over my favorite wrestling hold, the over-the-knee backbreaker.

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Even the set up for this hold is sexy, as Grant Connors digs his fingers into Carson Crawford’s hot ass.

It’s such a massively dominating move. The pitcher often literally cradles the catcher like a child in his arms, clutching him across his chest, and then drops to one knee, pounding his opponent’s back across his thigh. I love the geography of this hold. The victim splayed out, his vulnerable core stretched wide, legs and upper body pressed backward such that he can’t assume the instinctive duck and cover defensive position to protect his internal organs.

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Kelly King busts Kirk’s back like a boss.

I catch myself gasping in awe at high impact OTKs. There’s a raw, primal, intensely arousing aspect to watching a dominant hunk seriously pound his opponent down with authority, his knee driving viciously into the helpless stud’s spine. It’s magnificent drama when he scoops him directly back up across his chest, standing tall and hoisting the victim high to repeat the move again. And again. Total domination.

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Ty’s helplessness make’s Coop’s muscle seem that much more massive.

I also also love an OTK punisher with big, bulging pecs flexing powerfully, his face hovering so close to his opponent’s muscled torso and quivering crotch. Stretched out on his back, the victim of an OTK is flattened, the topography of his physique stretched out and impotent, in contrast to the flaring shoulders and pumped pecs of his tormentor.

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Mr. Joshua digs deep into Chace LaChance.

Then there are the subtle variations and innovations that dial up the inherent eroticism of this hold in a homoerotic context. The stolen moments to take advantage of the victim’s helplessness, sadistically brutalizing muscled abs and pecs. Not content to just torture his spine, the man in charge pounds fists, drives in elbows, perhaps digs his finger tips into defenseless muscle and wear him out from every angle.

An OTK seems paradigmatically gay (or at least bicurious) when the dominant hunk pays serious attention to that tempting bulge at the apex of his opponent’s bridge. Frankly it doesn’t often go there even in homoerotic wrestling, but every OTK seems like a head nod to those sensational moments when a wrestler leans forward and sucks his opponent’s nipple, seductively slides the palm of his hand possessively across his lower abs, and appreciatively throttles and fondles his arching cock. That’s the heart of homoerotic wrestling for me, with the purpose of the battle to determine who gets to take possession of whose body.

I’m fascinated watching muscled hunks sell this hold. Clearly some wrestlers are built a lot more for strength than flexibility. A stiff, tabletop OTK actually works for me because it looks like it hurts just that much more. When a muscle laden stud doesn’t really have much of a lower back arch to bend across his opponent’s thigh, it also just seems that much more humiliating. But there’s nothing quite as arousing as watching a flexible hunk melt into the hold, bridging dramatically, as if his muscles are draped across a hanger. The submissiveness, the giving himself over blindly to man who’s claimed his body, is golden.

My gratitude to all of the homoerotic wrestlers who have recently fed my craving for OTK hotness. For those moments when you’ve reached through your opponents legs and cupped his beefy ass in the palm of your hand, I salute you. For your graceful bridge and packed, quivering bulge gasping in anticipation of whatever is to come at the mercy of your opponent, I applaud you. I realize this hold is not exactly intuitive to pull off, and for many of you it’s downright awkward as fuck to sell, so I appreciate the gorgeous erotic art of your human sculpture just that much more.

Triple Z

I’m a simple man. I like word play and alliteration. I enjoy well told stories with compelling characters. And I love hotly muscled, mismatched hunks making each other scream.

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Z-Man is perpetually perfect.

Zip Zarella’s sensational schooling of Z-Man in Hunkbash 19 has all the required ingredients to make my mouth water. I’m sure I’ve said it before, and I’m sure I’ll say it again, but I am 100% positive that Z-Man has a decrepit portrait of himself aging in a dusty attic somewhere. He’s fucking inhuman! To say that his physique is on point in this match is the least newsworthy statement in history. His physique is ALWAYS on point. My opinions of his wrestling have waxed and waned over the years, but his sexy-as-fuck, luxuriously ripped muscles have remained perpetually and permanently perfect.

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Zip Zarella sees you looking.

Then there’s Zip Zarella. I’m just about ready to offer to throw down with ANYONE who wants to challenge me as his biggest fan. His boyish babyface is cute as a fucking button, which makes his gorgeously inked muscles just that much more breathtaking. I know that his day job is as an indy pro narcissist in the made-for-the-masses variety of wrestling, but that combo of boy-next-door dimples and gay porn-ready body is simply perfect for pro wrestling for a gay audience, as far as I’m concerned.

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Indy Pro Z vs. Underground Phenom Z

The narrative device is pristinely simple.  Z-Man is, unquestionably, a soft-core physique model who’s made mint moonlighting as a ham sandwich for gay wrestling audiences forever. So his strut and smirk just piss the fuck out of Zip, who perfected his craft night in and night out in front of live fickle indy pro wrestling audiences. But in the BG East universe, let’s face it, Z-Man is the The Man in this match. All he has to do is snap his fingers and clench his ass cheeks and an army of gay wrestling fans would cum drooling all over themselves ourselves. In our corner of the universe, Zip is a newbie still building his brand. Of course, I was an extremely early adopter, but BGE fans are still deciding how to respond to Zip.

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“Want to see a good view?”

Honestly, I’ve seen a lot of indy pro wrestlers dabbling in wrestling for gay audiences who convey, quite clearly, overall apathy for the sexual objectification that is a key ingredient in what we’re talking about. Hell, some of them seem hard pressed to suppress out and out repulsion at the thought that you and I are getting turned on watching them at their craft.

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“You’re liking this,” Zip speaks the truth.

Zip is not a no-homo-bro. When he finds Z-Man posing in the mirror, he insists on a side-by-side comparison. Zip turns his back to his opponent, and us, and gives a juicy flex of his right bicep and tightly packed glutes. “You’re liking this,” Zip chuckles, catching Z-Man’s glance. He’s also talking to you and me when he says, without a hint of reproach, “I see you looking.” Hell, Zip is tickled as fuck that you and I are looking at his phenomenal body.

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“Is this what you guys want?!”

Permit me to fast forward a half a dozen minutes or so in this match. Zip is beating the living fuck out of Z-Man. It’s gorgeous and completely humiliating. Zip just can’t get over what a pushover this prettyboy is, after having heard about all of the gay wrestling fans who fawn over Z-Man. “All those pretty muscles won’t help you now,” Zip laughs, twisting Z-Man’s ankle viciously in a sick leg lock and making him scream. He manhandles the coverboy like a practice dummy, dragging him up into a bearhug, pounding him into a corner, and then hip tossing him hard to his back in the middle of the ring. Zip flexes his tatted pecs in a most muscular pose, first checking the mirror for the optics, and then turning his gaze directly at the camera. “Is this what you guys want!?”

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Zip’s got a message for Z-Man fans

Ohfuckyes, that is most definitely what THIS guy wants! Zip wants to please some fans. He wants to deliver. He’s holding the gay gaze and looking back, unflinchingly, and demanding to know if he’s stroking us just the way we like it. I have no idea what team Zip plays for on his own time, but when he’s on our dime, he appears enthusiastically committed to delivering in the ring whatever it takes for us to unZip our pants and grab hold of the entertainment he delivers with both hands.

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“Oh, I heard about you, Z-Man!”

Fuck, I love this guy. Sex and contempt pour off him like a steam shower. “Is this really THE Z-Man they brought me,” he scoffs, choking him with a barehand, bending him backward across the top rope. “I trained for a wrestling competition, for this? This is a joke,” he barks with a half-laugh at how easily he has his way with the coverboy. He face-plants Z-Man’s prettypretty face into one turnbuckle after another. “Oh, I heard about you,” Zip taunts, cranking the fuck out of a figure-4 leglock that makes Z-Man howl like a wounded animal. “And I was expecting so much more than this!”

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“Come on, boy, flex those pretty muscles now!”

I know some of you hate spoilers, but then again, you know I spoil matches constantly. But seriously, this is a Hunkbash. It should hardly be a shock when I say Zip plows down Z-Man like a riding lawnmower. But this is so much more than a squash. Zip is out to do a lot more than “win.” He’s hell bent on destroying the body beautiful beefcake who, at least for the moment, possesses more BG East fans than Zip does by a factor of at least 20 to 1.  “Come on, boy, flex those pretty muscles now,” Zip taunts, literally (I kid you not) standing on Z-Man’s head crushed into the mat.

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“I’m about to break you in half, boy!”

He drags him up to his feet, and Z-Man is standing only because Zip his holding him up by a fistful of hair. “I’m about to break you in half, boy!” Zip scoops him up across his chest like a child and parades the battered beefcake around the ring a couple of laps before pounding him down in a sensational OTK backbreaker. And up and down again, cracking him sideways across his thigh. And again.

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“I’m taking over here. I”m the new body guy!”

“That’s right,” Zip crows, his pecs bouncing and his muscled glutes flexing. “I’m the new Z-Man. I’m taking over here. I’m the new body guy!” I’m sorry to have to tell Zip that he almost certainly has not made anyone less a fan of Z-Man, laying waste to Z-Man’s fantasyman body and manhandling him so beautifully. However, I have to believe that Zip’s masterful ownership of both Z-Man’s crushable body and the narrative of this compelling match will do nothing but bring along more fans to the ZZ camp.

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“I’m the new Z-Man!”

Get in line behind me! I’ve been eyefucking this magnificent specimen all along. And more importantly, Zip has been asking for it all along. The Z-Man is vanquished. Long live the Z-Man!

Best of 2016

I had every intention of posting some more niche categories for you to chime in on as we look back on the best of homoerotic wrestling for 2016. But alas, time and tide await for no man. The clock has nearly run out on 2016, and probably not a second too soon. So instead of polling the readers, I’m just going to put forth a few of my own personal picks for the best in homoerotic wrestling in a few more categories almost certain not to show up in any official year end fan polls.

 

Best Back

Fuck, I love a big, broad, thickly muscled back. I suppose a lot of guys probably don’t think of the back as a particularly lust worthy. I, on the other hand, think a hot, sexy back is immense value added. It seems far too often neglected by the gym bunny crowd, making a truly gorgeous, crafted classic V and wide wing span that much more notable. Again, for my tastes, there are mechanics involved, like proportion, shape, and thickness, but that last, little, hard-to-articulate aesthetic comes down to whether a back makes me ache to slap down a massive load across the expanse of it. So, as with everything, it’s about what it inspires in me as much as any particular objective, measurable quality that we could all agree on.  My top three favorite backs in 2016, in reverse order, are as follows:

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Lon Dumont

2nd runner up is Lon Dumont. So much has been said about Lon’s phenomenal abs, and deservedly so. But damn, that back is a work of art! I would love to see 2017 be the year that opponents climb into the ring with Lon and acknowledge what a hot, rocking body this magnificent muscleman possesses, and fuck, that back should be on the list of things for an opponent with taste to admire.

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Van Skyler

1st runner up for me is BG East’s muscleboy Van Skyler. He’s a dizzyingly sexy fantasyman from the front, sure, but fuck, that gorgeous back could be more perfect only with a stream of cum painted across it.

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Scrappy

I don’t have access to better pics, but trust me, Thunder’s Arena’s Scrappy has a magnificent back. His perfect V points like an arrow that supremely fuckable ass. He’s phenomenal to watch wrestle. The attitude, the power, the beauty from every angle. But my heart rate spikes every time I see his best side. Scrappy has his admirers, clearly, but I have think that he’s one of the most underrated athletes in the homoerotic wrestling industry. He’s a handsome fucker with some sweet mat skills, but I’m waiting for him to just turn around, extend that lat spread and flex those glutes, and bring the right opponent to his knees.

 

Best Tag Team.

There were precious few tag team matches in homoerotic wrestling in 2016. A producer once told me that tag team matches are few and far between because it’s just too much of a pain in the ass coordinating 4 different schedules (plus the production crew). So they’re a rare treat that I, personally, enjoy immensely. So here are my top 3 favorite tag teams in 2016, picked out of some inexact formula of ring skills, beauty, teamwork and chemistry, with just a little of that extra added allure of making we want to join them in a 3 way (and I’m not strictly talking wrestling now).

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Zack Johnathan (aka Z-Man) and Austin Cooper

2nd runner ups for me were the fascinating pairing of two sensational, iconic figures in homoerotic wrestling, Z-Man and Austin Cooper, teaming up for Rock Hard Wrestling in All-Star Brawl. I’m not convinced that they have a ton of chemistry when working together, but two hot, sexy stars this big and this popular make a sensationally sexy pairing.

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Raving Savages Zach Reno and Matt Blakewood

1st runner ups, and thus first in line for me to climb into a petite, muscle packed, loin clothed sandwich with, are Wrestle4Hire’s Ravaging Savages, namely Zach Reno and Matt Blakewood. These bearded badasses were a thrilling surprise for me in their magnificent take down of behemoth muscle giant Mark Muscle. Despite pulling off some fabulously coordinated double teaming, I think they are just a little unequally yoked, as evidenced by Matt having to turn alpha and order Zach around a bit to finally finish off their superhuman opponent. But holy fuck, these micro beasts were a sensational turn on for me in 2016.

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Team All-Americans – Rookie Charlie Evans and veteran Christian Taylor

In what has to be the hottest, most entertaining tag team match in homoerotic wrestling this year (this decade?), ginger newbie Charlie Evans joined forces with fantasy veteran Christian Taylor to bring down the house in Tag Team Torture 19. Their opponents, newbie Chase Addams and Trophy Boy Ty Alexander, could have totally taken this award, if their out of control vanities hadn’t set them on a path to self-destruction from the start. What Team Vanity lacked in teamwork and coordination, Team All-Americans excelled at. This was such a fabulous narrative of earnest babyfaces versus narcissistic heels, with the juicy melodrama of the upstanding All-Americans suffering heaping loads of underhanded brutality, and yet enduring, having each others backs, and through raw skill, will, and teamwork staying in the fray long enough for their egomaniacal opponents to make one too many mistakes. I would pay a premium for those dick selfies they snapped with Team Vanity’s phones. And absolutely, if there’s a tag team I’d most want to join for a rip and strip, baby oiled menage a trois, in 2016, it’s Team Vanity.

 

Best Gear

I’ve had some extensive conversations with Ty Alexander about the dangerous waters of expressing strong opinions about gear. I’m no Joan Rivers, and I hardly claim any particular expertise in fashion. But I definitely know when a particular gear choice does NOT do it for me. And, occasionally, I think to myself, that hunk was made to wear that! As with everything, there are mechanical factors that go into my estimation of gear, like fit, color, and complexion. But in this case, that hard to describe, major component of what I like has to do with me deciding, at least momentarily, that a wrestler actually may be even sexier in this particular gear than out of it (trust me, that’s a rare conclusion for me). Well, at least I think to myself that I’d like to see him in it before ripping it off of him. In any case, what I think may be the most sensational gear choices of 2016 are as follows.

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Ty Alexander

2nd runner up is Trophy Boy Ty Alexander. To say that a pair of trunks look like they were made to be worn by a wrestler is, quite literally, the truth when it comes to fashion-obsessed Ty. He has an immense collection of custom made wrestling outfits that he showed off in 2016. Possibly my favorite were the opal trunks he wore in his grudge match against fleeting tag team partner Chase Addams in Tag Team Torture 19. Lush fit, beautiful contrast with Ty’s all-over tan, and generously providing reading material for when he plants that ass on Chase’s face. They tell a story all on their own, which, considering Ty’s panache for storytelling in the ring, adds compelling nuance and subtext to a match.

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Jobe Zander

I let my attention wander away from Jobe Zander for a while, but suddenly, in 2016, I took another look and discovered a whole new man. I’m assuming there was some nefarious transaction with Satan involved, or perhaps a genie in a bottle, to transform Jobe into the ripped sex god he suddenly is today. However it happened, I was blown away by the super-low-rise, sky blue banana hammock he wore this summer in Can-Am’s Decrotchery 14. His hot, rock hard glutes look insanely sensational, and Jobe’s masterpiece is framed like the work of art it is. The seaming, the gorgeously tight outline of his monster cock… everything about these trunks scream Jobe. A fashion critique would likely note that the pouch pulls away from his inner thigh just a fraction as a result of a fraction too little fabric to manage to cover his famously gargantuan python. But who the fuck are we kidding. That tiny gap, the shadowed space stretched too tight at the side of his crotch, is exactly what makes this gear perfection.

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My choice for Best Gear in 2016 is Rafael Valmor from BG East’s Fan Fantasy 4. Honestly, Rafael had an unfair advantage, considering Kieran Dunne made him try out about half a dozen pairs of trunks before acknowledging the obvious truth that these baby blue square cut swim trunks achieved absolute perfection. The combination of that baby blue against his bronzed, Brazilian body is so fucking lovely! But it’s the cut that boggles my mind. I swear it looks like these trunks were sewn together right on his body. From the back, they dip exactly to the top of his ass crack, squeezing each gorgeous ass cheek like loving friend. From the front, they suck to his muscled, upper thighs, and then leave exactly enough acreage to let his mouthwatering bulge stick out just right. I know, I know, I keep using the word “perfection” too often in this category, but I can think of no other description for Rafael’s gear here. Kieran agrees with me here. Mouthwatering, aesthetic, masterful engineering, absolute perfection.

 

Best Wrestling Character

I think of this last category like picking Miss Congeniality, only most of the time, the most compelling, sexiest wrestling personalities in homoerotic wrestling are decidedly uncongenial. As a fan, I talk about this aspect of wrestling often, the sell, not just of any particular move or hold, but of the wrestling story as a whole. There are plenty of homoerotic wrestling matches that seem to pop up out of nowhere, with the combatants’ motivation for stripping down to their barest essentials and beating the living fuck out of each other remaining mostly a mystery. But there are some sensationally entertaining hunks on the scene who absolutely emote. They set the table for us, sometimes with dialogue and explicit backstory, but often with just a smirk and a sneer. I love wrestlers who can convince me that they aren’t just waiting to clock out, but that they’re motivated and passionate about working up a sweat and settling some score. This is less about being a heel or a babyface or a jobber, but about conveying the virtual world in which hot hunks in the briefest of trunks defy gravity, obliterate the conventions of common decency, and pit nothing but their bodies and cunning against one another for a reason. That’s fucking sexy as hell for me. So here are my top 3 wrestling personalities who did all of that the best in 2016.

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Aryx Quinn

I’ve missed seeing more of Aryx Quinn in homoerotic wrestling lately, but even showing up relatively rarely, he tears apart the competition in body and soul. As my 2nd runner up for best wrestling character, Aryx could easily drive fans wild with just that rocking body and those incredibly devastating wresting skills. And yet, every time he shows up, he brings that sexy as fuck, sneering, domineering, trash talking attitude that typically conveys a crystal clear motivation to rip an opponent apart in order to fuck them senseless in victory. I’d argue there’s no other wrestler in competition today who inhabits quite the wrestling character that he does with such supreme success.

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Kid Karisma

My 2nd runner up for Best Wrestling Character is Kid Karisma. Kid K consistently conveys a transparent motivation for throwing down, built on several interlocking factors. He loves the way he looks, glistening with sweat and showing off his magnificent muscles, having beaten an opponent to submission and flexing over top of him. He clearly loves the way it feels, possessing another man, bending and breaking him, milking whimpers and screams out of him. Kid K sells a particularly sweet vintage of sadism without a hint of maleficence about it that’s incredibly novel and compelling. And, at least 2 times out of 3, he wrestles because it turns him on. So often, after ripping a lucky bastard apart piece by piece, you’ll catch Kid Karisma climbing on top, saddling up, and smacking down a lusty, passionate kiss. Both in his wrestling work and in conversation, he consistently comes across as a hearty partier, a prankster and a smart ass, who wrestles for the sheer pleasure of it.

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Matt Thrasher

Best Wrestling Character in 2016 for my tastes was Matt Thrasher. Again, like Aryx and Kid Karisma, Matt inhabits a relatively unique persona in the business, I think. Particularly in his work for Muscle Domination Wrestling, Matt is the Daddy’s Home franchise. He’s gorgeous, of course, but he absolutely owns the salt ‘n’ pepper daddy beat in today’s industry. Youngsters of all shapes and sizes keep throwing themselves in his way, calling him old, calling him grandpa. And with patience born of experience, Matt chuckles, and then turns the ageist bullshit on its head by beating the living fuck out of every ankle biter he meets. He’s bulging and hairy and sweats like a Margarita in August, but its the way he carries that off in his seasoned, savory picking apart of young bucks that makes him such a phenomenal character. He’s never impulsive. He’s deliberate and decisive. And he persistently possesses the sexy, compelling character motivation of crushing the dreams of youth as he turns cocky kids into his sniveling bitches.

So those are my picks for some of the aspects of homoerotic wrestling that I, personally, key off of, but which don’t tend to find their way into end of year fan polls. Feel free to praise any wrestlers who you’d have picked for these (or any other) category in the comments below.  And happy new year, people. Here’s to a hope and prayer to the homoerotic wrestling gods that we all survive 2017 with a few civil liberties left.

Unmatched Pairs

I like not only a wide variety of bodies and builds and characters and gear and ages and races and ethnicities and scenarios in homoerotic wrestling, but I also like the combination of contrasts.  Let me be clear, I have nothing against hunks squaring off against similarly fashioned hunks. But I’ve long experienced some special kink bonus about mismatches, or, more generically, unmatched pairs. For example, there’s something that turns me on exponentially about wrestlers in entirely different types of gear. One in street clothes, the other in pro trunks, for example, or one in an earnest amateur singlet and the other in a stripper thong. I’m not entirely sure why, but fuck, yes, that contrast cranks my cock with just that much more enthusiasm. It’s also relatively rare, I find. So much more often, opponents are not only dressed similarly, but even dressed in identical gear choices, just in different colors.

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The Bigger They Are… stars 6’3″ Niko Knight towering a half foot taller than 5’9″ Cody Cummings

A more common unmatched pairing, which often lends itself to a mismatched pair as well, is the big vs. little throwdown. There are, of course, many ways to measure size, but on my mind today is the tall/short dichotomy. Watching a pair of hotties face off, when one opponent’s nose basically comes up to his opponent’s sternum, turn me on like nobody’s business.

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Cody makes the big man his bitch!

And I’m not just talking about squashes, where big guys manhandle and abuse guys 3 weight classes below them from start to finish. I only occassionally tuck in to a big bully squash like that, but a particularly fine vintage for me is the big vs. little pairing that turns out delightfully competitive, or perhaps even tilted toward a particularly skilled little guy cutting a big man down to size.

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5’5″ Jonny Firestorm stares up the half foot in height separating him from 5’11” Brook Stetson in Catch Weight 4

Perhaps it has to do with blurring the lines, this extra excitement I have for the unmatched pairs. In straight-up competitive sports, there are weight classes that control the narrative, that offer the illusion that the ultimate outcome is indicative of the better man, the skilled or more determined (or luckier) combatant. An unmatched pair of contrasting sizes may acknowledge that the tale of the tape in homoerotic pro wrestling is almost never about fair play and the raw measure of strength and skill.

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In Catch Weight 5, 6’2″ Joe Robbins nearly has more than he can handle in dangerous pro Paul Hudson, standing 7 inches shorter at 5’7″

There’s attitude and lust, sadistic impulse and desire to dominate. I may still expect the smaller man to get outmuscled and manhandled, but pro wrestling has always relied on a suspension of disbelief, and when, through cunning or skill or an equalizing shot to the balls, the little guy puts a convincing hurt on his goliath, I don’t just go with it, I scream full steam ahead!

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In Rough & Ready 69, Z-Man (reported elsewhere to be 5’10”) needs climbing gear just to look 6’7″ MXD in the eye. That’s a difference of 9 inches! 

Particularly when it’s competitive, I definitely don’t mind it when a hot bundle of compact muscle gets a beating from his taller opponent, either. I’ve mentioned in the past how, every so often, a squash turns sour for me if it comes across as just bullying. But if the scenario sells legitimate suspense about the ultimate outcome of the match, I’ve certainly found myself getting off to a big man putting a hurt on a pint size muscleman probably as frequently as vice versa.

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Z-Man may get altitude sickness hanging out in that suspended choke!

I’m not sure if I’ve come to any more clarity about my delight in a mismatched tall vs. short homoerotic wrestling match. But I know what I like, and things pump harder and hotter for me when a big guy and a little guy lock up, thrown down, and, especially, when they the winner (whichever part he played) sexually lords it over his vanquished foe.

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5’11” Derek Fox thinks he’s got petite 5’5″ Drake Wild in hand in Pro Sex Fight 13.

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Turns out, it’s the other way around!

 

 

And the Nominees Are…

Time’s a wasting, so if anyone is going to still benefit from seeing side by side (or top to bottom) comparisons of the nominees for BG East Bestie awards before polls close at midnight tomorrow night, I’d better get on it.

The Best Body category is an enigmatic one for me. Taking in the whole of a wrestler’s physique speaks to different tastes and attention. How the academy narrowed the field down to these six specimens, I can’t imagine, but it’s a very, very hot field to choose from.

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Kid Karisma (my pic)

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Van Skyler

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Z-Man (2013 Best Body Winner)

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Lon Dumont

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Chace LaChance

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Logan Vaughn (those legs!!!)

Competition for Best Bulge is probably equally as subjective, but when we zoom in on the crotch, I have to think that size matters. In this case, these are the boys with the heft and volume to get nominations from the academy.

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Pete Sharp (defending Best Bulge 2014 winner)

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Kayden Keller

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Jobe Zander

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Jonny Firestorm

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Gold Shaft

Nominees for Top Heel somehow seems like one of the clearest categories in the poll. The pro wrestling heel is an iconic role, and at BG East, it’s inhabited by some of the hottest, most merciless and vicious bad asses on the planet. Defending Top Heel of 2014, Kid Karisma, didn’t even make the cut this year, but this year’s field is incredibly competitive.

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Joe Mazetti (my pick)

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Guido Genatto

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Flash LaCash (Drake’s pick)

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Lane Hartley

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Jonny Firestorm

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Kayden Keller

So who do you like, and who do you think got snubbed by the academy this year? Remember to vote by midnight tomorrow night, Friday, January 22.

And the Nominees Are…

As anticipated, BG East has posted their poll for the Bestie awards, recognizing the fan favorites for their wrestlers and matches featured in 2015. Drake and I did our pre-scout report last week, but now that we have the actual nominees in hand, I wanted to do a quick comparison in the interest of aiding voters in making the best choices. I’ll just stick to the individual categories because you only have until midnight this Friday to submit your votes.  First up, lets take a look at the faces of the nominees for Top Babyface.

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Biff Farrell (my pick)

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Richie Douglas

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Chet Chastain (Drake’s pick)

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Jake Jenkins – Defending Top Babyface 3 years in a row!

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Pete Sharp

Next up, let’s compare the awesome abs nominated for Best Abs of 2015.

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Lon Dumont (my pick)

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Cal Bennett

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Chet Chastain

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Pete Sharp

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Z-Man (Defending Best Abs of 2014)

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Kip Sorell

I’m not the first person to note that a prominent 2-time champion of the Best Abs Bestie was not nominated this year, despite appearing on the mats in 2015 for BG East. I don’t know if the academy intentionally snubbed Eli Black, or if there was a calculated judgment that Eli’s killer abs were truly out distanced by the 6 lovely, lean hunks above.  In any case, just a look at the abs that are not in contention this year…

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Eli Black – shut out of the nominations for 2015 Best Abs

I’ll take a look at the field for Best Body and Best Bulge tomorrow…

And the winner is…

The BG East Besties have been announced! I’m about 20 times more excited for this than I am the Oscars. Though if a rip ‘n’ strip tuxedo wrestling match breaks out between Bradley Cooper and Ethan Hawke, I may change my mind.  I made my ballot abundantly clear a couple of weeks ago, so let’s look at who the majority of voters picked for the Best at BG East in 2015.

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Best Babyface for a 3rd year in a row goes to Jake Jenkins.  Little surprise, and there’s nothing to argue with, because JJ is such a sexy, stunning babyface beauty.  My vote went into Denny Cartier’s column, but all hail the undefeated best babyface winner, JJ!

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In the absence of two time winner Jonny Firestorm, this year’s Best Heel award goes to Kid Karisma. Is it bittersweet for KK that he didn’t get to actually defeat Jonny for the title this year?  I’ll never quibble with KK getting lauded, though I am curious that the majority that voted for him didn’t award any of his matches honors this year.  My pick, Guido Genatto, scored two matches in the top awards. Of course, no one says any of us are required to maintain any internal consistency in our favorites.

 

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Ripping the title of Best Abs away from 2-time winner Eli Black was Z-Man this year. What a phenomenal field all around, though my adoration will always be for Lon Dumont’s midsection. I will, however, stare for days on end at every inch of Z-Man and marvel at his perpetually phenomenal fitness.

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What has to be considered an upset is oh-so-pretty Pete Sharp crowding out 2-time winner Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!) for Best Bulge this year.  Pete was my pick, but still, I have to think of this as an upset for the man who’s made his massive bulge such a feature of every match.  Perhaps the very fact that Pete is so understated about the massive mountain in his pouch is what sells him hardest as Best Bulge of 2015.

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Best Butt of 2015 sees the title change hands from 2-time winner Kid Karisma to always butt-beautiful Cameron Matthews. What an incredibly accomplished, top shelf field to choose from, and I have to think Cameron and Kid are always going to be battling back and forth for fan favorite butt. I think this really requires a butt-naked wrestling match between the two of them to help us make the call for 2015.

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Best Body this year broke for Austin Cooper.  Z-Man has got to be seething to lose his title from last year! Personally, I think this all merely proves that Kid Karisma (my pick) is the most underrated physique in homoerotic wrestling. However I have no trouble at all seeing what the majority of voters saw when the tapped goldenboy Austin for the honors.

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Jobber of the Year goes to last year’s Debut of the Year, Kip Sorell.  Rio Garza wasn’t even under consideration to defend the title after owning it the past 2 years. It was a seriously tight competition, and Kip was on the receiving end of some of the hottest beatdowns of 2014, without a doubt (even though NONE of them make an appearance in the best match awards!).  I still say Drake Marcos is my top jobber pick, mostly because it irritates him so much to be called jobber, which I think is a supremely awesome quality in a jobber.

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Debut of the Year saw the rest of you agreeing with me that Ty Alexander burned up the scene his rookie year. Clearly, one can’t “defend” his best debut title, but just for context, Ty joins the likes of Eli Black (Class of 2012) and Kip Sorell (Class of 2013). I expect to see some amazing things from the sophomore year of adorable Ty.

Don’t forget that all of the nominated matches this year are on sale for 25% off through the end of the month. I’ll take a look at the best match winners next…