Still in the Game

The other day I reconnected with an old wrestling buddy of mine; we hadn’t talked in a while. It was one of those weird things; I had literally just been thinking about him the night before, remembering our first match together, in a hotel in Manhattan about ten years or so ago. It was an incredibly hot experience; our styles of pro wrestling and physicality meshed perfectly, and of course, he had an incredible body that still stirs my dick today just by thinking about him, remembering the hair on his thickly muscled pecs, the meaty muscled arms, the legs and how they felt around my head and body, squeezing; the smell of his hairy armpits, the taste of his sweat. We’ve gotten together and wrestled numerous times since that first encounter; business bringing me to New York with great frequency. Alas, that frequency no longer occurs and I haven’t been to New York in a couple of years, but we still continue to communicate and talk shit to each other and trade pictures. Our fantasy has always been to meet in a ring somewhere so we can experience the match we’ve always wanted together. I wrote about him in a short story, whose title I cannot recall at the moment.

Anyway, he was telling me about a wrestler he’d met and has wrestled a few times, who reminded him of me; but in order to see what this guy looked like I had to register on a wrestling contact site. I’ve kept my Globalfight profile active despite not being very active on there; in the rush of everything else that’d been going on I forget to even go there and check the messages–there are always a few at the very least, many of which are hey I’m coming to New Orleans and would love to wrestle you and are just as likely weeks, if not months old; this makes me feel guilty and that makes me stay away from the site even longer. But reconnecting with my buddy, along with some other things in my life that have been going on have made me want to start wrestling again; put on the gear and face off against someone again. So, I thought, why not? So I registered and created a new profile; looked at this new guy’s pictures and was more than a little surprised to see the physical and physiological similarities between us, which also kind of inspired me to want to wrestle him. But with this new profile, this new registration, this new website membership came the need to create an actual profile; to add pictures and likes and wants and desires. So I did so, and walked away from the website, diving back into my writing and the other day-to-day business of being.

BGEast had a live show the other week, as a fundraiser for the Pride Center in Fort Lauderdale; the Boss invited me to come and I had really wanted to, but of course things in my personal life intervened and I wasn’t able to get away. But as pictures of the event, from the event, and of the wrestlers hanging out at the south compound of the company in Florida began showing up on line I felt a pang; I missed it. I miss the camaraderie of a weekend taping with the guys; I miss the Boss and the rest of the company employees, who were always so much fun to hang around with; I miss the feeling of camaraderie with the other wrestlers. I miss the interesting dichotomy of in front of the camera personas as opposed to the real life person. Some of the guys from this new generation of BGEast wrestlers have messaged me, talked to me, indicated an interest in getting in the ring with me. I always thought they were simply being kind, flattering someone from a previous generation of the company. But as I looked at the pictures from that week in south Florida, and saw some of the guys from previous generations, I remember how thrilled I was to meet the guys I’d watched on tape, been aroused by, followed as a fan; what it felt like to meet them in the flesh and wrestle them in real life rather than in my fantasies. Maybe they aren’t simply being kind and flattering; perhaps they actually want to get in the ring with me. And there are guys from the past that I haven’t wrestled yet, that I still desire a match with; there are guys I’ve been talking to on Globalfight for years that I want to fight, and I don’t like the idea that those matches will never happen.

I ain’t dead yet.

It was also a pleasant surprise to go back to the new website and see that I’d been buried in messages, that my profile has been viewed over five hundred times. That can, of course, be partly attributed to being a new profile; but some of the messages were from guys who were like I once was; guys who watched BGEast and had enjoyed my matches, were fans, which was a pleasant surprise. I’d forgotten Cage Thunder had fans; had never really taken the very concept of a fan base very seriously; I am just me, after all, and I am no Mitch Colby, no Josh Goodman, no Kid Leopard. And yet those messages were there.

And I’ve missed wrestling. It’s always been such a key component of myself, of who I am.

So, while I don’t travel hardly at all anymore and i have very little free time to indulge, I am going to come out of this strange semi-retirement and get back into it again. I am rusty, of course, but…yeah. It feels good to make this decision, and while I am older, I am also more mature and more wise.

So, here we go.

 Stay tuned.

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Legs

I’ve always been a leg man; I think one of the hottest holds in wrestling is the scissors, whether it’s head or body (I prefer being caught in a head scissors, if I am being completely honest).

So this boy’s legs made me stand up and take notice.

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I mean…

I noticed him first on Globalfight. I got one of those your friend so-and-so posted new pictures, you should check them out and so I thought why not and pulled up his profile. He has posted new pictures; action shots with a guy I thought, since I couldn’t get a really good look at him, was Mitch Colby. But then I realized wait, Mitch doesn’t have tattoos on his left arm and looked even more closely; nope, wasn’t Mitch. Mitch, I know from experience, is about six two or three; the friend in the pictures is about six four, and this guy was much shorter than that. Hmmm, I thought, he’s kind of hot.

Flash forward a couple of months and BAM! There he was on the BGEast site: Calvin Haynes (how much do I love that his ring name is two underwear companies?). The resemblance to Mitch wasn’t as pronounced as I’d originally thought, but I started thinking of him as mini-Mitch.

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And he has a hot ass to go with those legs.

Nice arms, too.

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And he doesn’t shave off his torso hair. I also like that. I also like that he’s more interested in being thick than ripped. I also find that kind of sexy.

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And you know, much as I love pro gear, I’ve always regretted not doing a ring match for BGEast in jocks or just flat out nude.

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Yeah, I like this kid. I’d also like to experience how brutal his scissors might be; like I said, those are some nice quads.

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He also looks damned good in full pro attire. He has the look, doesn’t he? My dick gets hard just looking at this picture. It makes me want to shove him back into that corner and choke him and elbow smash those hairy pecs and then toss him back into the center of the ring for some more fucking torture.

So, I thought I’d check out one of his matches; see if he’s as good as he looks.

Wolf’s Bane

Lobolito never knew what hit him.

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Newsflash: it was me, and I just kept on hitting the punk. There’s something satisfying, you know, about landing some blows, seeing the glaze of pain in your opponent’s eyes, listening to their labored breathing, their whimpering and sobbing.

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Although when they don’t really resist much, it’s disappointing. I can’t speak for other wrestlers–or viewers–but I get bored with matches that are just beat downs. And when you get bored, well, that’s when you make a mistake. That’s when your victim gets a chance to make his own move.

And I’m always up to see what the punk has to offer.

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Nice! If I weren’t so flexible, this would have been pretty fucking painful. But I didn’t submit, so the punk made a heel move and grabbed my crotch and squeezed.

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I can respect that, you know? It’s what I would have done. But you know what they say about payback…

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And again–props to not letting me get my breath and get back to speed before moving in on me again. Maybe the punk has some potential.

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Always go for the balls again when in doubt.

But you’d better fucking finish me off, punk.

Beautiful Boy

As I said, Rafe Sanchez just oozes sex appeal. Watching him wrestle in person, his sexy body growing slick with sweat just a yard or so from where I stood with my camera, was an incredibly enjoyable experience. One of the things I liked about him was that, despite his lithe, lean muscled frame, he had no problem taking on guys who had a definitive size advantage over him, like Vlad Varek and Mitch Colby.

Vlad and Mitch also had a titanic battle in the ring of their own; Vlad towered over Mitch, which is no small feat. So, sexy young Rafe was giving up a lot of size to Vlad, but somehow managed to hold his own before going down to a bruising beating in the ring with him, on Ring Rookies 1.

And then, if that wasn’t enough, he got on the mats with Mitch Colby–and I can tell you now, from experience, that son-of-a-bitch is strong. But again, despite giving up some early falls to the bigger man, Rafe got some vengeance–and he enjoyed making the big man submit to him, before going down to defeat (Mat Hunks 9).

You’ve got to love that.

He also embraced the erotic side of wrestling, getting down and dirty with Billy Lodi in Catch Weight 3.

Peter Stallion, the beautiful eastern European stud, and Rafe also got down and dirty in Wrestle Worship 1:

And then there was his sizzling match with Sebastian Rios, X Fights 32: Caribbean Oil.

Yup, I needed to get in the ring with this punk.

The Centerpiece

Arrogance has always been a mainstay for professional wrestling. Almost every promotion has had some wrestler whose incredible arrogance made the viewers hate him, regardless of talent, skill level, or body–and despite their skill, almost always lost. Heels are always arrogant but there was also that heel who somehow always managed to lose to a face (someone the audience loved; a good guy hero who usually feuded with the main star heels over titles and ethics and ‘cheating’; while they weren’t jobbers per se, they didn’t win matches very often but were there to build up the resume of the hero). When I watched Georgia Championship Wrestling in the 1980’s, there was one whose name I can’t remember, but he had a great body and long hair bleached blond. I want to say it was Chip something, but I know that was wrong. Let me consult the Google.

Ah, Chic Donovan. I was close

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Jobe Zander is sort of that same type, at least when he first came to BGEast. Handsome and sexy–and that bulge! But the arrogance…oy.

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And dat ass.

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He also made his already hot body over, but that’s a subject for another time.

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Jobe and I had some fun back-and-forth on the BGEast list-serve for a while…he proudly displayed his arrogance and so I couldn’t resist.

The end result? The Boss scheduled us to wrestle in the ring in the spring after my trip to Las Vegas.

The Boss originally had me in this gear:

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While it was hot, it wasn’t exactly practical for fighting in the ring, especially with an arrogant ass with no respect for the rule like Jobe….

(to be continued)