Indianapolis & St. Louis

In a few days, I'm driving to Denver. Along the way, I'm going through Indianapolis, where I'll wrestle my good friends Larry and Ed, although not at the same time. This should be a great stop along the way, and I'm looking forward to it.

Larry and I first wrestled in Atlanta in November 2001. Since then we've wrestled once in Nashville and twice in Indianapolis, and we've always had a good time. I'm especially looking forward to this upcoming time. Larry has recently been recovering from some physical difficulties, but being now well along on his road to recovery, he's excited about the wrestling he's able to do. And when Larry's excited and able, he's great fun to wrestle--actually he's great fun to wrestle even when he's not as able as he'd like to be.

I've wrestled Ed only once, and we had a great time. But we were cut short because of his dog's being terribly ill. We expect to be clear of complications this time. Ed is a powerful wrestler, and favorite hold is the head scissors, which is my favorite also. I expect my head and jaws to be sore after this match, which will likely go well into the night.

The next morning I leave Indianapolis to continue on my way, but I'll be stopping in St. Louis for a lunchtime match with a new friend named Mike. We're looking forward to a good wrestling lunch and then lunch afterward.

Then it's on to Denver, where I hope to hook up with Matt, a man I've talked to off and on for years. We had a match scheduled a couple of years ago, but I had to cancel. Hopefully I can make it up to him.

"Get a Room"

One recent morning I stood in a field with a small group of male friends, some younger and some older, and a pretty young woman I had only just met. (The reason we were there is neither important nor interesting.) Somehow the conversation got 'round to a recent mass arrest of men meeting in local public parks for homosexual activities. These men were apparently coupling in the men's restroom or in places in the woods like one called "The Man Cave."

Aside: Although I saw nothing of this on television or in the newspaper, my friends in the field expressed concern that of the 40 men, two were particularly focused on--a pastor from a nearby town and a teacher in the local city school system. Certainly these two--and those married among the 40--play best in the media, fair or not. Too bad for them. They shouldn't have been doing what they were doing; at least they shouldn't have been doing what they were doing where they were doing it. But I feel sorry for them and their families. One man, sadly, has already committed suicide.

My friends in the field seemed relatively unconcerned about these acts themselves. If these men want to do "whatever they do," the suggestion was that they confine themselves to private space. In other words, "get a room."

I stood there listening, knowing that in a couple of hours I would be meeting a man in a motel room. We weren't planning to have properly private sex but to wrestle. I wondered how my friends in the field would receive and interpret this news if they know what I knew.

Anyway, the hours passed, and that afternoon in a little motel room off the interstate, wrestle we did. M had wanted to wrestle all his life--47 years--but never had. I've wrestled several times in the last 11 years, but I'm not really that good at it. M was strong and aggressive and enthusiastic, as might be expected from a 260-pound man who works out at least five times a week and is excited about wrestling. I don't know how many falls we wrestled over the three hours we were together, but I know for certain that I won only three of them--one with a reverse chinlock, one with a body scissors and one with a head scissors. I'm guessing M won 10 or more falls, and I was happy for him.

We did a lot of talking. We're interested in lots of the same things, and our conversation--strange only because we were both sitting there mostly naked in our black briefs, sweating (then drying)--was rich and deep. We have the potential to become great friends, I think.

I left there and drove home--tired and a little achy and sure that I would be crazy sore the next morning. But when I got out of bed, I thought, 'Hey, this ain't so bad!' I had a little pain in my neck and pecs and shoulders, but other than that I seemed fine. Then I got in the shower! As I began to lather up and scrub down with a wash cloth, I realized that I hurt all over. Everywhere I pressed to scrub turned out to be another painful place, especially my areas around my neck and across my chest. My temples hurt. Even my left ear hurt. Much of this was probably pain brought on by M's crushing headlocks, a hold with which he won almost all of his falls. I just couldn't stay out of it. I started to laugh there in the shower, thinking, 'Oh yeah, yesterday didn't hurt me at all!'

That's life! The wrestling life!