RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition who publishes zines & physical books & electronic books & music & photography & digital art & just generally whatever feels necessary to survive this deluded earth thru Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts survival systems (Version 69, establish 14 Feb 1973). Comments encouraged.

Tuesday, June 12

MOTYOTD: Patterson vs. Slaughter (May 4, 1981)



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.

No comments: