Never Too Many Scissors

A pro wrestling YouTube channel I follow has been posting a bunch of classic St. Louis wrestling from the early 1980’s.  I never had access to these programs when they first aired, so it’s interesting to check it out and to see some of the talent I would later enjoy in the mainstream federations performing as young rookies in St. Louis.

For example, Volume #6 in this St. Louis series featured a great match between “Cowboy” Bob Orton and Mark Romero (who would later change his name to Mark Youngblood and join a Native American Tag Team with his brother Jay.)

The main reason I decided to write up this match is Romero’s relentless Scissor Holds, what a turn-on.  Not long into the bout, Romero escapes Orton’s Headlock by reaching up with those talented legs, hooking those white boots together and engulfing Orton’s head between his thighs. That’s fucking sexy in my book.

Romero really works the Scissors for a nice long while, grinding on the pressure, twisting his hips off the mat for leverage.  They get a ton of mileage out of Romero’s apparent leg power, with Orton’s frustration (and my boner) growing over his failure to break the hold.

Eventually Orton does escape with an impressive display of strength.  He hoists his opponent overhead using a yank on his waistband (with Romero maintaining his relentless Scissor Grip the entire time.)

Mere seconds after Orton’s escape, Romero soars across the ring to encircle Orton’s neck yet again, Headscissoring his ass right back down to the mat for some more leg torture!

I realize some of you may be uninterested in this slow-paced action.  I realize neither Orton nor Romero are ripped, swole, or foxy by today’s standards.  But I’ve got a thing for long, tight Head-Scissors so it’s totally working for me.

Back in 1982 when this match aired, men acted more dignified, adult, and serious than they do today as I recall.  They wore button-down shirts and polyester or khaki dress pants each day, even in summer because shorts were for children.  The adult men I knew were No-Nonsense in attitude and they sat in chairs, proper wooden high-backed chairs, never on the floor.  They didn’t even play video games, or any games really, except for cards and  chess.

So it was shocking and unseemly to me in those days, as an adolescent wrestling fan, to see grown men acting so undignified on TV, stripped to the waist in public, down on the ring floor like pigs wallowing in mud, punishing each other, one man’s bare legs wrapped around the other’s head. The fact that these were grown men inflicting and receiving pain, and the grown men I knew never role-played or played grab-ass, added a sense of reality — surely they’re not just playing around, I figured, because men never play at all.

The presentation of their bare “dad bods” in tight spandex briefs felt taboo and inappropriate in those days, and therefore was extremely enticing to me.  I knew I shouldn’t be watching this sleazy shit, just like I knew I shouldn’t be thumbing through the nudie magazines dad had stashed in his dresser drawer under his sweaters, so there was a feeling I was taking a walk on the wild side just by looking and watching.

If Scissors are your fetish, you definitely want to give this match a look.

I’m also digging both wrestlers’ pro-style boots: good guy’s in white, bad guy’s in black. The large white stars near the top of Orton’s boots I guess gives him a Western sheriff vibe.  Many wrestlers wore stars on their gear in that era, so it still triggers me to this day when I see stars.

Orton performs some hot suffering in this third Scissor, letting his arms fall limp as if Romero’s legs have finally put him to sleep.

Surely I’m not the only viewer picking up on the erotic vibes inherent in this display, the story of dominance vs. surrender, power vs. limpness, virile agency vs. vulnerable submission..

Cowboy Bob continues to play the out-matched clown for several minutes, stooging for young Romero to make him look like a Boss (which is what I liked best about Orton, his willingness to be degraded).  Next, the clumsy Cowboy flops into the corner only to find himself caught in the Tree of Woe, his balls and belly wide open to abuse, providing great visuals of helplessness and suffering as Romero works over his mid-section.

Romero again humiliates Orton with a flashy Flyin’ Headscissors, tossing the Cowboy’s green-spandexed ass all around the ring at will.

Our take-away is that Orton needs to find a defense against this kid’s talented legs or else he is doomed to lose this match — defeated by Romero’s talented thighs!

Orton eventually asserts his dominance, busting Romero’s spine using this marvelous Grabbed-By-The-Ass Slam.  Fuck, it looks deadly and violent — great selling by the broken jobber.

Romero is being punished for disrespecting Orton earlier, for humiliating the Alpha Male by holding his head between those thick legs.

As Romero foolishly attempts another Flying Headscissor, we see that Orton has figured out a counter-attack at last: ducking those legs to cause Romero’s nutsack to strike the corner turnbuckle.  We’re told that “Romero tried one Flying Headscissors too many!”

Now that Romero is utterly emasculated, his balls busted on the turnbuckle, his ass presented to all of St. Louis, it’s easy for Orton to finish him off (using his “Super Suplex” off the top rope)  Nice ass on Orton in those green trunks as he covers the loser, see below.

These young lions were still at the early stages of their careers (especially Romero who was only 19 at that time), but they were clearly naturals at giving us tons of sexy suffering and suggestive posing.  Maybe this is because they’re both Second Generation wrestlers, and maybe their daddies (“Rapid” Ricky Romero and Bob Orton, Senior) taught them to sell just right to succeed in the ring.