So I’m watching the May 8th episode of NXT and suddenly these two buff Frenchmen are strutting to the ring, waving their flag around and flexing their muscles. I recognize the hairy chested stud with long hair as Sylvester LeFort (at LAST getting in the ring for us) and his partner is identified as Marcus Louis (of course pronounced “Le-WEE” in the French manner, not “Lewis” like a normal American.)
Are these two gym rats in tight, shiny black trunks supposed to be Heels or Faces? Will they win or lose their matches? At this point, I don’t really care. I am experiencing that dizzying feeling of anticipation that a wrestling lover feels when seeing a hot new wrestler or Tag Team enter the arena. I am thinking: “Whoa — who the hell is THAT?! Where did they find HIM?? I can’t WAIT for the bell to ring!”
The cocky Frenchmen wrestle a classic Dick Heel Team scenario, isolating one of their masked Mexican opponents and totally dominating him. Marcus Louis does most of the work, which gives us a chance to get to know him.
These studs remind me of the old La Résistance tag team of 10 years ago. In fact, I think they wore those same black nut-huggers.
The cruel Frenchmen bless us with a long series of nasty double team moves and blatant cheating with plenty of trash talk mixed in. They pause after every few moves to mug for the crowd and try to give us all boners by showing off their hard bodies.
The masked man (I was distracted and didn’t catch his name) looks like an impotent stooge in comparison.
Of all the WWE programs, they really make an effort to offer stunning physiques, exciting new talent, and revealing gear on NXT. And as I’ve mentioned in earlier posts, the colorful and descriptive commentary we hear during this show is a verbal hand-job as well. Probably they reserve the most homo-erotic content for their subscription WWE Network where NXT is broadcast to avoid complaints that the action is too raw, sexual, and inappropriate for a public audience.
They definitely have understood that sex sells, in pro wrestling just as much as (or even more than) anywhere else. If they expect the fans to pay $10 per month for a subscription, they had better deliver some really delicious eye candy on at least one of the exclusive shows. NXT is that eye-candy.
Eventually the Luchadores reach their tag and the smaller shirtless masked man takes control and wins the match thanks to his high-flying acrobatic zaniness.
Am I disappointed the fabulous Frenchmen lost the match? Not really — I don’t care if they win or lose as long as I get some good looks at them along the way. I am just concerned that, if they continue to lose, they could be disbanded or buried as a team. Then I will have to find someone else to swoon over.
