What Turned me Gay (not really): Pro Wrestling in the 90's

Pro Wrestling truly hit it's golden age in the 90's.  It was a time when sexy guys tied strings around their biceps and men intimidated each other by oiling up their pecs.  There was something magical about this time. The combination of colossal egos and a fresh crop of young jobbers each week created a spectacle that will never be replicated.

Ravishing Rick Rude and Stunning Steve Austin v Flyin' Brian and Sting

What turned me gay (not really) ... 

This post, inspired by the sidelineland.com blog, takes a tongue and cheek look into "what made me gay (not really)" and my journey of discovery would not be complete without examining Pro Wrestling in the 90's, an era that definitely turned me gay. 

The Background

It all began with an image.  I can't recall who or even which network it was on but there he was.  A jobber, trapped on the ring post getting hammered away by a vicious heel.  Now while I can't recall his face, I do recall the feeling it left with me.  The taught and fit jobber, the sweaty bodies, the satisfied smile on the heel. My young emotions screamed one thing; I needed to watch more of this.  

Not the Jobber in the corner I remember but sexy Lee Scott will do.

It helped that my older brother was also into wrestling.  Together we'd watch and celebrate or rag on each other depending on if our heroes won or lost.  But there was always one wrestler I fixated on, one man I obsessed over for reasons my young mind simply couldn't comprehend. That man was Ravishing Rick Rude.

Grabbing that chest won't save you!

Ravishing Rick Rude and Stunning Steve Austin v Flyin' Brian and Sting (WCW)

Ravishing Rick Rude v Hawk (WCW)

Ravishing Rick Rude v Ricky Steamboat (WCW)

That long, muscular body, that alpha energy the man gave off, but above all it was those abs of steel.  You could not tear me away from a Rick Rude match when he was flashing those abs into my television.  Rick Rude awakened something in me before I even knew I liked guys.  That persona and masculine energy was something I simply wanted more of.  With that incredible body, those sculpted arms, that tough guy mustache all worked to scramble my young brain; Rick Rude definitely turned me gay.  

Rick showing us the goods

Ravishing Rick Rude resting his head on a jobber

Then came another bombshell, one that a lot gay men out there could not get enough of, that is the one and only, Alex Wright.  

The one and only, Alex Wright

Tall and smooth, while also deceptively scaling the ropes between jobber and heel, Alex Wright was Pro wrestling's first Twunk.  The man was a stealth wrestler.  A man you'd expect to be riding around in a convertible listening to techno music, but then something would flip and that man would bring the heat.

Alex Wright v Brian Pillman 

Alex with Paul Roma

My favorite Alex matches were the few when he got to dominate.  It was almost like waking up from a spell, all those pretty muscles in that huge imposing frame weren't for show - the man was simply so drool worthy you'd forget how imposing the guy could be.  

Alex Wright fights back (sometimes)

Alex Wright was my first male lust and was all my youthful urges personified as a pro wrestler. The man absolutely turned me gay.  

The one and only Alex Wright!

What made this time so great to me was that it was a moment when pro studios excelled at fostering young talent.  Guys like Mark Jindrak brutalizing a young jobber, a kiss of the knuckles punch to take down Lee Scott, or in the case of Evan Karagias, being on the receiving end of the beatdown.  It was the perfect collision of over-the-top silliness with raw manly emotion.  This era simply had something going for it that I can't quite explain and haven't seen since.

Mark Jindrak vs. Elix Skipper (WCW)

Mean Mark (The Undertaker) v Lee Scott (WCW)

Paul Orndorff v Lee Scott (WCW)

Evan Karagias v Chris Jericho (WCW)

In spite of the beautiful smooth bodies shoved through my television, a stand out moment from my youth was witnessing the great Arn Anderson tearing down some poor jobber.  It was like hearing music for the first time and realizing that beauty does not always equal pretty. For me anyway, the sight of a no-nonsense, tougher-than-your-dad heel like Arn Anderson in his prime was undeniably beautiful and wrestling once again revealed something about myself that I didn't understand at the time but would later come to relish.

Arn Anderson v Alex Wright (WCW)

Arn for the Win!

Arn Anderson v Eddie Jackson (WCW)

They say, often when you think you're at the end of something, you're actually at the beginning of something else. This certainly held true as the decade drew to a close and something seemed to shift in pro wrestling. While the same sexy, hard bodies still clashed in the ring, it felt like a part of what I once loved had moved on.

Or maybe I moved on. You see, Pro Wrestling in the '90s may have been the spark that turned me gay, but before I knew it, I was fully embracing myself as a gay man. Your formative years are funny like that. No matter how much time passes or where I am on this journey, I still can't shake that image of a faceless jobber trapped in the corner, somewhere back in the '90s.