I Like it Sleazy

I doubt if many wrestling lovers who follow this Blog would admit to being big fans of Eric Embry.  Back in the 1980’s, he was a bearded redneck with a big belly and a twangy, tobacco-juiced drawl.  He was definitely not the stereotypical beautiful, buff pro wrestling god — but I sure perked up whenever I saw him get in the ring.

The best thing about Embry was that he always brought the sleaze that made pro wrestling so enjoyable to watch in the 1970s – 80s.  He was just so cocky, slutty, and proudly rotund.  He really didn’t care if you thought he was overweight and his hair was greasy — he was awesome in his opinion, and mine.

Just look at what Embry (wearing the tight maroon trunks) does with his legs, spreading them wide, airing his cock out, selling his soft-bellied ragdoll defenselessness as “Gorgeous” Gary Young (another sleazy sumbitch) drops Flying Knees on his forehead.  That is hot.

These images are from a classic rasslin’ match posted on YouTube by a user known as “markc75.”  I would dare to say that markc75 may be a bigger fan of Eric Embry than I am, because he has uploaded dozens of matches featuring Embry being Embry (GREAT!).  It’s like a virtual shrine to this raunchy rasslin’ stud whose gear never seemed to adequately cover his beefy body — about which he gave zero fucks.

This is chapter 20 in markc75’s 45 chapter review of the feud between Embry and the evil Sheik — Skandor Akbar.  I love that there are 45 videos on markc75’s channel dedicated to this one feud alone — I want to watch all of them.

We see Akbar is cuffed to the corner post, which adds a tawdry, raunchy tone to the match.  This is what I’m talking about — that nasty, dirty, inappropriateness.

Some of you are probably thinking I must be crazy to enjoy watching Embry wrestle when there are so many leaner, cuter, buffer guys to goon over. Embry has no Abs, his facial features are neither cute nor pretty, and he talks like a hilljack.

As the Village People sang in 1979 “I Like it Sleazy.”   Sleazy is hot when done properly — it trips certain triggers in the brain.  And Embry was a sleaze master.  He’s like your redneck buddy from the rough side of town who invites you out for a beer every so often, but you always seem to wake up with an empty wallet in a dumpy hotel full of regrets.  Yet the next time he calls, you can’t resist — drawn to that nasty sleaze like a moth to a flame.

Maybe you had to grow up watching wrestling during that nasty, naughty era when the action was so wonderfully dirty and Politically Incorrect to appreciate Eric Embry — when the wrestlers’ bellies protruded out over their trunks like proper men — when they’d beat each other bloody — when they’d mercilessly Pile-Drive their opponents to try to end their wrestling careers.

As a youngster, you just knew you shouldn’t be witnessing such graphic sleaze and blatant cruelty, and that made it all the more exciting.  Now, when you see the old matches that tripped your trigger decades ago, you can’t help but enjoy them.

“Gorgeous” Gary Young’s hairy-chested masculinity proved to be too much for Embry to overcome, regardless of how big the tent he is pitching in his maroon speedo.

Embry is left helpless, his legs once again spread-eagle and inviting our gaze, as an equally exhausted Young flops over on top of him.  They lay chest to chest like lovers as the ref counts Embry out and Young is declared the superior Alpha-Male.

Embry then proceeds to cry in humiliation and anguish — another gimmick I loved back then.  Seeing these hyper-masculine tough guys reduced to tears like sensitive women again took me to that dirty place in my brain and kept me craving more sleazy, nasty, inappropriate rasslin.