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Flash LaCash vs Biff Farrell

Flash LaCash Helps Himself Out to a Heaping Helping of Biff

After his star-spangled buttocks made its debut in Lon Dumont’s Wrestler Spotlight, Biff Farrell has been the center of attention for a lot of BG East wrestlers and fans. You don’t get more “all-American” than this youngster with his easy Colgate smile and high and tight haircut, and now any heel worth his salt wants to get his hands on him. “This is gonna be fun,” quips smiling Flash LaCash as he climbs into the ring after Biff refuses to open the ropes for him. Flash is, as his moniker implies, ready to beat up anybody for the right number of zeroes on a paycheck, but we suspect he would have squared off against Biff for free, such is the handsome patriot’s apple-pie appeal, a face and body practically pleading to be stretched out on ring ropes and ridden hard like a bronco. And that goes double after the snub.

Nicknaming the new kid “Big Poppa Pump” (after pro-wrestling legend Scott Steiner), Flash coaxes him into showing off his humongous arms, which are built to “knock out punks like you,” Biff boasts ill-advisedly. Flash is unfazed by the butch talk: “I was gonna shake your hand but I already fuckin’ don’t like you, so …” The heel’s toothy smile widens from ear to ear. “… You wanna wrestle? I’ll wrestle ya.” Arms outstretched as if preparing for a collar-and-elbow lockup, Flash calls the new meat in, only to kick him in the midsection. In just one second, he has the rookie in a full nelson. But Biff’s massive guns are not only for show. He muscles out of the hold, ramming his elbow back into Flash’s ribs, a blow that’s certain to leave a dent. A body slam tests LaCash’s bounceability. Unsurprisingly, the tough-as-leather vet is back up in, well, a “flash,” only to be served up and slammed again. The followup is a chest-to-chest bearhug, another chance for Biff to show off his arms. But Flash slugs his way loose.

From this point on, Flash sees Biff as his own personal lifesize Stretch Armstrong toy. He backs him to the corner ropes for some grade-A pro-style pummeling. He pauses now and then to catch his breath, pressing his butt to the kid to hold him in place. Biff only makes matters worse for himself by trying to punch his way out of his preordained ass-beating. Resistance pisses LaCash off, and the man knows how to handle a defiant rookie, even one as big and brawny as Farrell. As capable at tying an opponent in knots on the mat as clubbing him against the turnbuckle, Flash puts Biff through the proverbial wringer. A deftly executed cross armbar displays the full glory of the recruit’s writhing, agonized physique for the camera (and not for the last time). “You wait till I get up!” Biff threatens. “Yeah,” Flash smirks, “I’m waiting.” Biff tries to protect himself by covering up, but Flash opens him up like a sticky centerfold, making sure the safety of the ring ropes is just an inch out of reach.

Next LaCash goes to work on Farrell’s legs, crimping Biff’s hairy monster calves and thighs in a figure-four leglock, throwing in some crunches to toughen the abs while the all-American boy flails. Biff attempts the classic reversal of this hold only to get stomped facedown on the mat by the apparently indomitable Flash. Flash is “The Man,” and hunky, hump-worthy Biff might as well be in diapers. A little later, against the turnbuckle, when Biff interrupts Flash’s steel-claw hold with a side headlock, the agile heel slips free and bitch-slaps the kid for his repeated impertinence. When the babyface tries again, Flash hauls him up in the air and smashes him to the mat. Biff puts up a good fight, but every little fire he starts Flash douses with twice the energy and ten times the ring savvy. Pretty soon, Biff is wishing he had opened those ropes for Flash to start with. The action is steady and satisfying every second of the way. A sweaty knockout stomp wraps it all up tight and tidy in this sophomore entry in the Rookie Wreckers series.

Adam Atom vs Austin Cooper

Awesome Austin initiates Adam to BGEast Style

Austin Cooper has come a long way since his BG East debut where he literally wiped the floor with mat specialist Jake Jenkins. The former competitive amateur wrestler heard the siren song of the professional wrestling ring, and his passion for picking up pro wrestling skills has left his mat skills a little rusty. But the wrestling ring has enabled Austin to get in touch with a darker and more vicious side than he ever knew existed underneath those lusciously bulging pecs and ripped 8-pack abs. “Dr. Cooper” has emerged as one of our most terrifying and devastating ring heels, leaving a trail of blood, sweat and tears wrung mercilessly from the battered and broken bodies of his opponents.

Adam Atom came knocking on our door determined to parlay his successful college wrestling career and thickly muscled, tightly-packed body into total domination of the BG East mats. His tree trunk thighs and meaty bubble butt beautifully stretch the seams of his blue and grey singlet as he warms up in anticipation of his first match. When Austin shows up squeezed seductively into his old yellow singlet, a little tighter now that he’s put on more muscle mass, egos instantly clash. Austin quickly explains to the rookie that he’s about to get his beautiful bubble butt beat down by the best. “I prefer to do it in a real ring, where it’s truly a bad ass place to be,” Austin points out. But he is willing to take this trip down memory lane and put the rookie in his place on the mats.

Both hunks are heavily muscled and powerfully built. Adam is lightning-fast, throwing his cocky opponent to the mat and riding him with authority. The rookie swarms all over him, repeatedly hoisting Austin into the air and suplexing him back down hard. He manipulates the golden veteran with a hammerlock, rolling him to his shoulders and pinning him like child’s play.

“You got lucky! I wasn’t warmed up,” Austin complains. He attacks from behind without warning, scoring a clean take down. But once down, the rookie is just too solid, too balanced. Austin can’t budge him an inch. Suddenly, Adam counters, ripping the veteran open wide in an agonizing spladle, making the veteran wail in submission.

Austin is out maneuvered and outmuscled at every turn. Adam puts him on his back at will, and every pin fall stokes deeper and deeper rage within Dr. Cooper. “See, I can do anything I want with you!” the cocky rookie crows. “I’m unstoppable here. I’ll be an unstoppable pro!” Next, Adam insists on brutalizing Austin’s battered ego where it will hurt the most, in the ring.

As they climb into the ring, now in bulge-hugging beautiful pro trunks, Austin is looking supremely confident for someone who just had his ass handed to him moments ago. “I promise you, this is my world!” Before the rookie realizes what’s happened, Austin throws him into a corner and pounds Adam’s muscled gut mercilessly. A snap mare to the center of the ring has the rookie seeing stars. Scooped up effortlessly in Austin’s powerful arms, the rookie learns the hard way what an over-the-knee backbreaker feels like in a real, bad ass pro wrestling ring. Grinding his elbow viciously into the rookie’s exposed gut, Austin explains, “In my world, I break backs!”

Adam is a very quick study, though. At precisely the moment that Austin takes a breather, the rookie hoists him over one shoulder in a fireman’s carry before slamming the veteran hard to the mat. With a surprisingly expert camel clutch, the rookie threatens to rip Austin’s pretty head right off his neck. “I could get used to this pro thing!” he smirks.

Is this the end of the reign of terror of Dr. Cooper? Is Adam Atom the muscle rookie who can defeat one of BG East’s most terrifying heels not only on the mat but in the pro wrestling ring as well?! Sweat-soaked muscles and ferocious egos vie for domination. One shocked muscle man is beaten so bad that he’s forced to count himself out in the ultimate pro humiliation, a moment before being dragon sleepered out cold. Muscle rookie or muscle heel? Only one hot hunk is left standing, flexing, the undisputed victor.

A Lack of Diplomacy

Darius has been patiently waiting for his fortunes to take a turn for the better at BG East. He has all of the raw material to devastate an opponent. His flawless physique is as potently powerful as it is aesthetically awesome. He has been wrestling for years, determined to pay his dues and learn the ropes on the way to building honestly earned success in the ring. His dues have been high, higher than most, in fact. His bulging pecs and phenomenal ass have inspired opponents to subject him to some of the most vile and debasing defeats on record. But as Darius will be the first to tell you, he has learned something valuable with each and every brutal humiliation.

Given the opportunity to break in an ambitious new rookie, Darius is convinced that the time has come for him to pass along a few of those hard earned ring lessons. He finds his opponent, Christophe France, in boxing trunks and gloves, shadow boxing in the ring. The French hunk appears carved out of solid stone, with huge square shoulders and bulging biceps already working up a pump as he jabs the air.

“What the fuck are you doing!?” Darius asks with contempt. “You know we’re supposed to be wrestling here, right? We’re not boxing or square dancing.” The chiseled rookie is cold as ice as he ignores the seasoned veteran attempting to give him a dressing down.

Ignoring Darius is a total rookie mistake. The black hunk angrily rips off one of Christophe’s gloves, punches him in the gut, and drops him to the mat with authority. Darius’ massive thighs lock down like a vice around the rookie’s head, making the French hunk squirm across the mat. He is helpless to prevent the veteran from quickly ripping his boxing trunks off, leaving the rookie looking sensational in tight red trunks. “Little different than boxing, isn’t it?” Darius crows as he twists the muscled rookie into a mouthwatering pretzel. “Come on,” he taunts, “box yourself out of this!”

Although this is Christophe’s first visit to the US, it is clearly not his first experience in a pro wrestling ring. An elbow to the gut permits the rookie to escape. Back on their feet, he pounds Darius with gut punches that rock the veteran into a corner. Using his muscle hunk opponent like a punching bag, big Christophe works up a head of steam raining blows into Darius magnificent muscles. While English isn’t his first language, he manages to communicate quite effectively. “What you think of this?” he asks, shoving his huge, flexed bicep in Darius’ slack face. “You like?”

Darius most definitely does not like getting schooled by a rookie. His savage jab at the French hunk’s pendulous package stops Christophe in his tracks. Significantly more closely matched than either of them expected, they grow more and more vicious. They forcibly strip one another to the barest of butt baring thongs. With monster packages shoved in each other’s faces, the desire to dominate makes the rookie’s pouch swell and leak with obvious excitement. Ball busting, cocky schoolboy pins, and battered bodies bounced from corner to corner set up a sizzlingly hot sleeper climax, with one stunned muscle man flexing and preening, sitting proudly on top of the handsome face of his vanquished foe. International diplomacy has never been sexier, more savage, or more decisive!

Lane Hartley vs Richie Douglas

The Dangers of Dreaming Big

Former high school quarterback Richie Douglas has been dreaming big dreams. The ripped young hunk with the face of an angel and the body of an Adonis has been showing up and getting his picture perfect jock ass beat up over and over again for just one reason. The kid wants to be a star. He pictures himself as a classic barefoot babyface brawler, the sort of devastatingly hot pro wrestler that opponents take seriously and fans swoon over. And who are we to stand in the way of a hot piece of meat with a big pro wrestling dream? So far, he’s exactly halfway to that dream.

Fans have nearly unanimously given their seal of approval to Richie’s magnificent, lithe body. The mountainous bulge in the front of his trunks and the way his sweet ass cheeks don’t quite entirely fit within the confines of those shiny gold low cuts have made him very popular with BG East fans. When it comes to earning the respect of his fellow wrestlers, however, the dazzlingly pretty young hunk has got a ways to go before he’s taken seriously.

Lane Hartley most definitely doesn’t give Richie an ounce of respect when he discovers the quarterback waiting for him in the ring. Lane is particularly beefed up. In red and black pro-style trunks, he absolutely dwarfs the pretty young thing across the ring. Lane shrugs those big, beefy shoulders and gets down to work. “It’ll be kind of fun to get a light work out in, throw you around, break your spirit,” the seasoned young indy pro hunk explains.

While Richie’s fitness is breathtaking, he is little more than a rag doll when Lane gets his mitts on him. He outmuscles the quarterback effortlessly, tossing the kid from corner to corner. With one hand he picks the rookie off the mat in a brutal chokehold, bending Richie’s supple body backward across a top turnbuckle and exercising total control over the barefoot beauty.

“Why did you get in the ring with me!?” Lane shouts in his face incredulously. “Do you want to be a big star like me!?” he demands. “Yes!” Richie shouts back in a moment of defiant honesty. So Lane delivers the full course star treatment to the aspiring young wrestler. Scoop slams wear Richie down, leaving him defenseless against a rain of massive boot stomps pounding down every inch of his aesthetic physique. Lane’s full throttle pro initiation works them both into a thick lather of sweat. In standing headscissors, Lane’s massive thighs swallow the rookie’s head whole. Kicks to the ribs and kicks to the face knock the barefoot rookie clean across the ring.

Just as Lane takes a moment to catch his breath, Richie shoulder blocks the pro heavyweight into a corner. He pounds Lane’s relatively soft core like a terrier with a bone. He takes advantage of this barest glimpse of an opportunity and channels his childhood pro wrestling heroes as best he can. For better or worse, he’s got Lane’s undivided attention now!

It’s dangerous to dream big, particularly in the BG East ring. Lane gets retribution for the quarterback’s audacity by hanging him spread-eagled from the ropes and repeatedly place-kicking the youngster’s low hanging balls. The savagery is breathtaking. The domination is overwhelming. Young Richie learns the ropes, literally and figuratively, from one of the most dominant, relentless, heartless big-indy-pro stars in the business. And though he may not leave with a victory, or even a shred of dignity, or possibly the ability to walk straight, Richie Douglas leaves with one thing he’s always wanted. Just a little grudging respect from one of the best.

Lane Hartley vs Mister E

Blood, Sweat and a River of Tears

Masked Mister E made a big impression on fans in his debut in Austin Cooper’s Wrestler Spotlight. Of course, Austin made an even bigger impression all over the hot Asian hunk’s lean, muscled body. To the edges of terror and back, it took some convincing to talk the masked mystery man back into the ring, but the aspiring pro wrestler couldn’t deny the siren song of professional wrestling glory for long.

When it comes to professional wrestling glory, Lane Hartley is at the top of his game. The rising indy pro star has the classic handsomeness, innate athleticism, and raw, physical power to intimidate the biggest and baddest we’ve got to throw at him. So when he finds Mister E in the ring for his next match, Lane is understandably underwhelmed. A full 40 pounds lighter than Lane and obviously a slack jawed rookie, the masked stud barely registers on the indy pro’s radar.

Helpfully, Lane points to Mister’s “untied” laces. When the masked hunk looks down (rookie mistake), the pro bruiser attacks mercilessly. Unleashing a fury of high impact offense, the likes of which you have never seen in such intimate detail, Lane pounds the lightweight stud into the mat relentlessly. Suplex after suplex, the masked wrestler’s lower back drives again and again into the unforgiving ring mat. A savage chop to the chest leaves a bright red handprint across the smooth chest of the breathless rookie. Hoisted up effortlessly in a fireman’s carry, Lane parades the rookie’s limp body around the ring like a load of dirty laundry, before slamming him carefully and deliberately onto his right shoulder. Mister E bounces up to a seated position only to take a savage kick to the face that flattens him right back down again.

This match is not for the faint of heart. We get a glimpse of the depths of depravity and total disregard for basic human dignity that lies in the cold, dark, hollow spot where Lane’s heart ought to be. Piledrivers and bodyslams tenderize the rookie with such force that Mister E’s mask nearly rattles right off his head. Lane tramples the lean hunk’s beautiful body underfoot. He stomps him mercilessly in the face, and then turns around and rages at the poor chump when Mister E’s bloody nose spills a few drops on Lane’s shiny boots.

It’s not as if Mister E refuses to submit. He taps out in a panic over and over. He begs for mercy. If he could peel himself off the mat he would have fled the arena ages ago. Technically speaking, the match is over seconds in. The real mystery is just how far into the depths will Lane drag the masked rookie’s battered carcass. How many tears, how many pleas to end Mister E’s suffering will the raging indy pro ignore? And when Lane decides this is all good and done, and not a moment before, will there be anything left of the rookie to scrape off the mat?!

Kip Sorell vs Zach Reno

All Choked Up!

Kip Sorell has added beef to his bones since he astonished BG East fans with spectacular (but losing) showings against Karisma, Jenkins, Genatto, Z-Man, and Dumont in the past year and a half. His shoulders are broader, his ass firmer and rounder, his arms and legs more capable of doing a body some real damage. His face still reminds us of Disney princes and bartenders we’d like to boff, but now with the new muscle he looks somewhat more dangerous, the kind of bright, good-looking boy next door who knows his way around a knockdown drag-out fight.

As the new and improved Kip limbers up, Zach Reno slithers in behind him and initiates a choke from outside the ring. Sorell manfully hurls him overhead into the ring, hardly aware of his own strength, and delivers some much deserved comeuppance. If this opening doesn’t grab your attention, just give it up now because nothing ever will! Sorell is clearly on fire! Still, there’s no underestimating Zach’s desire to mess this boy up, and the heel soon regains the upper hand, as we might have expected from the resurgent pro, coming off a series of BGE reversals. “Get off of me, fucker!” Kip warns with a growl, but hairy, muscular Reno’s energized and won’t be happy till the pretty boy is snuffed all the way out!

Then, again, something totally unexpected happens. Sorell powers free and reverses, trapping Reno in a camel clutch in a red-hot display of how hard and tough the hugely popular babyface has become in the last year. In just seconds Kip knocks the hairy wild man out. Clean out. Even Kip is surprised by this turn of events: “I knocked him out. Oh shit! I can’t believe it. I finally won one. I actually won. Yes!” Then, with apparent sincerity, Kip asks Zach if he’s all right. No doubt about it, this guy is “babyface deluxe.” Zach does not immediately respond. Slowly Zach blinks back to consciousness, brain still whirling after a startling knockout, barely comprehending how soundly he’s just been trounced by a wrestler Guido Genatto once derided as “a pretty little girl.”

Kip offers his hand in assistance, and Zach stares back at him dumbly. Reluctantly, dizzily, Reno shakes the up-and-comer’s hand … but, in a move entirely consistent with his character, Zach slams his forearm up to Sorell’s balls in one of the feeling-est low blows in wrestling history. Zach soon resumes his slow and nasty strangulation of the flawless babyface, using every part of his body, in turns, to cut off Kip’s air supply. “I can’t breathe,” Kip gasps. “No shit,” Zach responds, smirking, void of sympathy as he seeks revenge and more. “What’s the matter? Getting all choked up?”

Next Zach moves his man to the ropes, making Kip squirm between his legs as he stiffly grinds the stud-muffin’s throat to the middle rope. And we do mean “stiffly.” We can almost guarantee you’ll hit “pause” at the very least once during this stage of the battle. Kip is dreamily vulnerable yet packed so firmly he could blow up at any moment. Then Reno pulls Sorell up to the corner top rope for further asphyxiation and hair-pulling, clenching his teeth, totally tripping on his mastery of this young, gorgeous thoroughbred.

Zach pulls Kip face down to the mat, the head locked in his hairy armpit. He grins at the camera, like he’s hauling in a record-breaking catch. The bottom of Kip’s cherry-red trunks forms an ironically bright valentine in the center of the screen as his struggling stops and we hear a haunting deathlike rattle escape his lungs. Zach puts a finger to his lips, going “ssshhh,” and raises his right fist in triumph, his biceps rolling up tight and firm.

Zach and Kip are now tied knockout for knockout, and one more act is needed to decide whose losing streak is over at last. In pointed contrast to Kip’s gentlemanly magnanimity after the first fall, Zach doesn’t wait for Kip to pull himself up before laying into him again.

In minutes Sorell-versus-Reno puts you on the edge of your seat. Zach is merciless and mean all right, but he’s an even match for Kip in build and weight, with the results of his first two matches at BG East no more successful than Sorell’s (even against two of Sorell’s previous opponents). Odds are even as either Kip or Zach could be the man to clean the other man’s clock with a sleeper surrender. Both men’s physiques look crazy sexy under duress, and the duress is nonstop and nearly interminable here in what is, without a doubt, the best match of either of these wrestlers’ careers!

Chace LaChance vs Tim Messina

Put Him Out Cold! Only One Way to Win!

Sometimes a mere technical win is enough for a wrestler. Any kind of win, he reasons, is a win, anyway you slice it. Sometimes he wants a little more, though, a decisive pin fall or a humiliating submission. However, the wrestlers in BG East’s new series won’t settle for anything less than knocking their opponents clean the fuck out! The ultimate satisfaction in combat sport is being the only player capable of walking away on his own two feet, leaving the opponent a near-lifeless heap, having utterly surrendered in the center of the ring.

The first contest of this new series opens with meaty muscleman Chace LaChance, smooth as a bronze sea god, tan as salted caramel, striking poses in front of the mirror before his opponent’s arrival. The fire-red briefs offset his dazzling pulchritude. Our mouths are already watering. Even with three memorable matches chalked up at BGE, Tim Messina is an unlikely opponent for the hard and handsome bodybuilder. Tim previously took some hard licks against Morgan Cruise, Jake Lowe, and Charlie Panther, but given the verve of his ring entrance you’d think he expects to wipe the floor with Chace’s butt. (Stranger things have happened!) He leaps into the squared circle, the front pouch of his pale yellow trunks bobbing up and down.

Straightaway Chace shoves him to his ass. Unruffled, Tim rebounds with a flying dropkick to the big man’s chest, a jab to the hard tortoise-shell gut, and a swift forearm blow to the jaw. LaChance is staggered but nowhere near down and out. He swings Tim into the ropes. Tim bounces back and monkey-flips Chace to the corner. He seizes the muscle god against the corner ropes and twice smacks the side of his head with his elbow. He attempts to whip the guy to the opposite corner, but instead Chace propels him headfirst to the turnbuckle, then swoops in behind with a rear naked choke. Tim’s birdlike shoulders slap into Chace’s massive pecs as the little guy kicks and grimaces, trying to escape. Chace keeps him clear of the ropes, hoping to make short work of the feisty pipsqueak. After a long struggle Tim succeeds in escaping, cracking the base of his skull to Chace’s front teeth, forcing the break.

“Bastard!” LaChance gripes and reapplies the choke, even more powerfully this time. “You’re gonna pay for that!” Squeezing tighter, he feels Tim’s knees melt underneath him and lowers the impudent squirt to the canvas. Seconds later, he yanks Tim back to his feet and bends him backwards, giving the choke a nasty jerk now and then, just to show the little guy who’s boss. Messina weakens. One arm then the other falls limp to his side. Chace drops him. The kid is out. LaChance kneels on one knee behind him and lackadaisically counts to 10 while peaking his steely biceps for us fans.

“How ya feelin’ now, punk?” Chace’s sarcasm is understated but unmistakable. Tim crawls to the ropes in hopes of pulling himself back to his feet. No way LaChance is going to let that happen. He drives his knee to the back of Messina’s neck, choking him on the middle rope. Tim futilely scuffs his spotless white boots on the canvas as he tries to free himself from the uneven tangle he has thrust himself into. Chace releases, and Tim coughs, trying to moisten his sandpapery throat. Chace hauls him back up and grinds the guy’s adam’s apple to the top rope. He presses himself up to Messina’s shoulder, stomping his foot to intensify the torment. Then he hooks his right leg over Tim’s shoulder, driving it downward. The circumference of Chace’s thigh is equal to Tim’s whole ribcage! Again, Messina is red of face and blue of lips. Chace flings him to the center of the ring. “You sound a little out of breath. Is something wrong?”

Chace is relentless in his punishment, appalled that the little dweeb should dare to oppose him. At last Tim strikes back, tripping the big man so that he falls and chokes himself across the top rope. Then climbing LaChance’s back, Tim topples the he-man, knees thrusting into Chace’s shoulder blades. Pain shivers down the length of the muscle god’s body. Tim fastens his slight but sinewy arms around Chace’s head and uses the man’s own muscle against him, gloating, “How do you like your biceps now?” Chace struggles back to his feet, but Messina’s all over his upper body like a coil of barbed wire. Tim grinds Chace down to the mat … and, in a wild turn of events, into unconsciousness.

The third fall will be the decider. Now both wrestlers know the other guy’s bag of tricks.
Expect a fierce, climactic struggle, and you won’t be disappointed. The finish is spectacular: a chest-to-chest choke hold. The victim is resuscitated so he won’t miss out on a nerve-deadening camel-clutch-style chokeout and traditional rear naked choke. For obvious reasons, he misses the post-obliteration ten-count. You don’t find cleaner finishes than this, and, against all expectations, LaChance and Messina turn out to be well matched in a ferocious, tight, and heated struggle for the ultimate surrender.

Rico Rave vs Sky Davis

Natural Enemies

Sky’s ponytail is not the only thing coltish about the babyface. Though experienced, he’s still green, and his long, slender legs aren’t quite as steady on the ring floor as they ought to be, but he bucks and bounds with youthful energy and high aspirations. His enthusiasm can be an advantage against a world-weary veteran like Rico Rave or it can blind the kid to the real risks of taking on a powerful, seasoned opponent. Both Sky and Rico come to us from the world of professional wrestling, but Rico has six previous BG East matches to Sky’s one. Rico also has about thirty pounds on Sky, which is a difference that can definitely be FELT in a pro ring war.

Rico takes one look at Sky and huffs contemptuously. He scrapes his boots on the floor like a bull ready to charge and then swaggers to the ring. He motions to Sky to keep his distance as he performs the slow and ostentatious ritual of removing his leather jacket and steel-rimmed shades in front of the mirror. The two wrestlers circle each other silently and warily and then suddenly lock up. Rico takes Sky down with a leg lock and proceeds to stomp the longhair kid’s hamstrings. Sky retaliates with a deftly executed cross armbar. After some spirited give and take, Rico takes command by pulling Sky backwards by his long hair and plowing a black boot into the youngster’s solar plexus. The two wrestlers are highly expressive, elevating the ring drama and pulling the viewer into the emotions and sensations of manual combat. Rico stands out as a heel who openly enjoys hurting people, especially young go-getters like Sky Davis.

No sooner does Sky push back than Rico reins him in by his long blond hair and slaps him into the ring corner. There Rico delivers a man-style drubbing with closed-fist punches to the face and boot stomps to the heart. Then he rakes Sky’s forehead and eyes across the top rope before thrusting him backwards to the center of the ring. Blindly and futilely, Sky charges back at Rico, only to be unceremoniously pounded face first to the mat. Rico circles Sky menacingly. He goes for one of his favorite holds, the side headlock, churning Sky’s head, his ponytail by now completely undone, between his bicep and chest. Sky elbows his way loose and springboards off the ropes for a valiant comeback, putting Rico into the same headlock he had just escaped. It’s a long slow grind as Rico struggles to escape by yanking Sky’s hair and pulling the kid up off his feet, but Sky latches on even tighter.

It’s a great moment for fans of the side headlock (you know who you are). Rico breaks free by driving himself and his opponent down to the mat. Quick to his feet, Sky bounds back, reapplies the hold and hip-tosses Rico to the mat. The two struggle to their feet, the headlock still in place. Sky releases the hold only to come flying back with a forearm thrust to Rico’s face. He briefly reasserts the headlock before segueing to a snapmare and armlock. But Rico’s added weight and years of experience come into play as pure brute force counters Sky’s bounce and vitality. Enraged, Rico trounces Sky against the ropes, on the mat, weaponizing every feature of the ring in his determination to squash the youngster.

Given the physical disparities between the two wrestlers, the persistent give and take comes as a surprise, a happy one, as experience and brute force butt up against passion and vigor. No sooner do we think we understand the trajectory of this battle than something happens to reverse the momentum. The ferocity of the fight intensifies minute by minute. Persistent hair-pulling and low blows suffuse the battle with a strongly erotic subtext, undeniable but understated throughout, not at all unusual for BG East, where martial dominance often equates to sexual power. Either man is capable of winning this match, as the action repeatedly demonstrates. Both reach near exhaustion by the end, when a volley of classic wrestling maneuvers (from camel clutch to crab hold to figure four) leads to the cataclysmic piledriver that neatly ties up the loose strings.

Jonny Firestorm vs Rory MacLeod

Fair and Square?

Best known to BG East fans for his now notorious run-ins with Aryx Quinn and Dick Rick, Rory Macleod takes on another one of the company’s stalwarts, Jonny Firestorm. From the beginning Rory has made it clear he is unwilling to roll over and play dead for any of The Boss’s stable of pretty-boy wrestlers. Proud of his fight skills and technical training in both the UK and US, he turned up his nose at the very idea that it is customary in pro wrestling to rub the newcomer’s nose into the canvas. “Then you better find a wrassler who can do it proper cause I am NOT a jobber.” Having now proved his mettle, even if without the perfect string of wins he had expected on this side of the Atlantic, Rory squares off against a similarly tempered fighter in Jonny, who comes to the ring in a blazing singlet with skull-and-crossbones painted over his midsection. The two men eye each other warily from their respective corners, each determined to prove to be the better man. Without speaking, Rory proffers his hand, signifying his intention to fight a fair and aboveboard fight. Jonny somewhat reluctantly reciprocates.

Rory is a good bit bigger and heavier than Jonny, but you cannot tell it from the way the two lock up. Jonny swerves behind his opponent, fastening his fingers just below the man’s sternum. Rory pries the hands loose and reverses. In turn, Jonny wriggles free and locks up Rory’s left arm. Rory rolls out of the armlock and again reverses. All legitimate textbook tactics, so we just might be looking at a purely scientific contest here, not a first or only for BGE but, let’s face it, still pretty rare. Fighting on the up and up does not preclude Jonny from grinding his forearm to his opponent’s shoulder joint, apparently to no other end than to cause the guy some pain. Obviously Jonny is itching to notch up the aggression in this bout. Unusually for a ring war, the competitors steer clear of the ropes, for the most part keeping the action on the mat. After some introductory give and take, Jonny takes Rory down for some folkstyle grappling, in which both men are proficient. On the mat the size difference between the two appears to make less of a difference.

Without a lot of trash talking (yet), Macleod-versus-Firestorm is still music to the ears for some of us. Some of us wrestling enthusiasts enjoy the human sounds of wrestling, the huffs and puffs of entwined combatants, the squeak of flesh and bone against the mat, the percussive groans of man struggling against man. Silent video footage or the overwhelming roar of a crowd robs a good match of a good two-thirds of its punch. Not so, here. Five minutes into the fight and you could swear you hear the sweat trickling off the wrestlers’ shoulders. A succession of moves that shift control from one man to the next provides lengthy riding times for both, bodies in tight on each other, the torso weighing down to limit mobility of the arms and legs. In this one area, at least, Rory may have an advantage, but Jonny’s having none of it, his quick and light movements sufficient to force Macleod to frantically grab for the bottom rope to escape.

The two separate. Then, Rory comes on like gangbusters, determined to make good on his intention to grind Jonny into the mat … but fairly and squarely, of course. Again, Jonny’s agility proves to be too much for Rory. Jonny squirms loose of Macleod’s noisy assault and leverages the man’s weight against him. He grabs Rory’s knees by his arms and legs and painfully splits his thighs, cracking the Scotsman open like a boiled crab. “No ropes this time,” Jonny announces, as Rory yelps in pain. Stubbornly refusing to submit, Rory manages to escape. What follows is a short series of excruciating holds, the two trading off the advantage, which for any other two men would end in panicked submissions. But Jonny and Rory hang tough through the pain, until Jonny gains the first fall with a pendulum backbreaker, dead center of the squared circle.

Rory tries to even the score with the next fall, coming on more strongly and brutally than before. When he nearly rips Jonny’s left arm from his socket, tempers flare, and the action takes a sudden turn towards all-out war. Snapmares, closed-fist punching, and use of the ring posts gradually swerve this contest towards the kind of merciless pro-style mayhem we have come to expect of BG East and most definitely of Jonny Firestorm. It’s a gladiatorial fight to the finish. Both warriors throw the rulebook away and go for the jugular, the action rising towards a spinning piledriver that knocks one wrestler out cold and leaves the victor still gasping for air as he exits the ring, limping slightly but victorious.

Joe Robbins vs Exavier

Mirror, Mirror…!

Wisecracking playboy Exavier is back at BG East to face off against the man he was born to wrestle: Joe Robbins! Robbins looks like he just stepped off the front cover of a classic DC comic … “cut in stone,” as he immodestly describes his superheroic physique. In his trademark silver trunks, he looks “peak” in every possible way, snapping his muscles to attention in a series of awe-inspiring poses in front of the mirror and camera. So caught up is he in self-adoration that he doesn’t even notice Exavier busting a few disco moves as he approaches ringside. Being ignored is not something Exavier tolerates, especially when Joe is hogging a ring that Exavier claims belongs to him.

Exavier tries to out-gun Joe with a few poses of his own, only to be unceremoniously shoved aside as Robbins reclaims the center of the squared circle. In a true old-school heel move, Exavier retaliates by assaulting Joe from behind. The thing is, though, Joe doesn’t even register the attack, budging not one inch! He merely turns around and blithely shoves his attacker into the ropes. Exavier springs back, and the two lock up in a collar-and-elbow worthy of a couple of Titans. Pushed into the corner ropes, Exavier pantomimes fear and respect with a supplicating gesture, luring Robbins in for a reversal and corner beating. Joe fights back but swaggeringly falls for the oh-my-god-you’re-so-strong ploy again, only to find himself getting clobbered in the opposite corner.

Exavier seems to think his fast cunning and brains can trump Robbins’ raw power and muscle, but he’s got another thing coming. He fools Joe twice, but self-confidence weighs nothing compared to the steely brute aggression Joe has demonstrated time and time again here at BG East. Getting too close to the cyclone, Exavier lands facefirst to the turnbuckle with Joe’s boot grinding into his lower back. He proposes that the two of them “share” the mirror, but at this moment Exavier is in no position to negotiate. “Can’t you take a joke?” he sobs as the humorless muscle god uses him as a doormat and then kicks him out of the ring.

“You can pose as long as you want,” a suddenly conciliatory Exavier sputters, on his hands and knees at ringside. But now that his appetite for fighting has been whetted, Joe pulls him back through the ropes for some more roughing up. Joe wrings out Exavier’s spine like a wet rag, then pounds the man flat to the mat. “I’m not a toy,” Exavier objects. “This stuff hurts!” he says, his voice cracking. As any longtime fan of BG East could have told him, Exavier’s whinging complaints only fuel Joe’s deadly determination to humiliate and destroy him. Bent backwards over the man’s knee, Exavier escapes by raking his fingernails across Joe’s eyes, but his punishment is still far from over.

If he can only keep his eyes on the prize, Robbins can defeat the spineless trickster, but there’s that damned frigging mirror to contend with! The mirror is Exavier’s secret ally in this match, drawing Joe’s eyes away from the demolition of his wisecracking opponent in the wine-red velvet trunks and giving fancy-pants Exavier some spare seconds to plot and execute a reprisal. Exavier’s ace in the hole is his penchant for cheap low blows and Pier 6 brawling. It’s his willingness to go as low and as far as necessary that keeps this war from being a one-sided beatdown. After Exavier repays Joe smack for smack, we enter into the dizzying final stretch of this fight, as torture racks counter ramrods to the crotch, leading up to a killer finish as victor chokes out the loser and then rolls him to the floor, claiming the BGE ring as his own! These guys are at their very best against each other, and they squeeze the last drop of drama out of this sure-to-be classic matchup!