We return to this journey through the Wrasslin’
Watcher’s Matches of the Years in early May of 1981, when the television cowboy
Ronald Reagan had just completed the first three months of his eight year run
of performative traditions, enabling the mass fleecing of the American
continent as well as the rest of the world by corporate interests. Our match
from this period is an evil Marine drill instructor who has obviously strayed
from the God blessed American themes of Marine life, in Sgt. Slaughter, who is
escorted by a sequined out old man called “The Grand Wizard of Wrestling”. The
opponent, in an I Love NY shirt (with a heart for the love), is Pat Patterson,
who in real life was an alleged pervert (not just because gay) who took
indecent liberties with underage ring boys. Their match is a Street Fight,
meaning anything goes, and they are both wearing cowboy boots, in Madison
Square Garden. This is the Ronald Reagan era, deeply, already.
Unconvicted sex offender man is whipping evil
Marine with a belt, and choking him, and it is a street fight so nobody can
stop it. THIS IS THE REAGAN ERA NOW! The match continues with mostly just belt
whipping and occasional punches mixed in on Slaughter, and kicks, and good
commands an early lead. But then Slaughter gouges the eyes (it is always the
eyes being gouged), gets the belt, and starts his own period of whooping
supremacy.
Slaughter gets the belt around Patterson’s face,
in a gag-type position, which visually simulated a choke but is not really a
choke, and just a performative image perfect for professional wrestling. But
also lolol it is a known in retrospect sexual deviant having himself publicly
gagged with a leather belt, and then his NY love shirt is ripped off by the
wayward Marine as well. Like a majority of professional wrestling’s greatest
matches, this is two men beating down their homosexual desires, a Don’t Ask
Don’t Tell Street Fight.
But then, after taking this constant slow beating,
Patterson comes into ring, and gets Slaughter’s legs, and launches him into
corner, where the evil Marine does a beautifully quick blade job to his own
face, while even standing there in the ring, not even tucked down in normal
stealth blade mode. It creates an immediate gush of crimson mask, which was not
super common for the staid WWF style of northeastern wrestling. But we had
entered the Reagan era… there must be blood.
As Slaughter, an immediate bloody mess staggers
around, the crowd goes mad with bloodlust themselves. Patterson jumps up and
becomes a deranged dancer, throwing exaggeratedly overblown punches, Slaughter
over-selling the punches with same exaggerated effect, and it’s so fucking
comical if it wasn’t an evil Marine bloody as fuck and an unconvicted sex offender
being cheered.
Slaughter pulls brass knucks out, and staggers
around to put them on (he has really cut himself an amazing one here), and fuck
man Slaughter is the best at being punch drunk. The brass knucks are countered
the second time he goes to them though, and Patterson uses the advantage moment
to pull off one of his cowboy boots and just pound Slaughter on the forehead
with a boot, or throw him into the steel corner post, it is a very simple
brutality going on here, but it is paced perfectly for the deranged
professional wrestling crowd to enthusiastically soak up every bloody punch.
The Grand Wizard throws in the towel, but Patterson keeps beating on Slaughter,
until he climbs into the ring, and the ref acknowledges the towel and calls for
the bell. Slaughter staggers around as if still willing to fight though, and
has lost no credibility for the Marines.
The crowd loved the blood, and the secret sexual
deviant is victorious over the Marine, and this was the number one match of the
professional wrestling in our year of the lord 1981, at least according to
those who have observed wrestling without necessarily taking part in the
necessary activities to be a practitioner of the wrestling arts.
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