Gold Star Jobber

Every so often there comes a long a special kind of jobber, a jobber in its purest form, that gets into the ring week after week and invariably gets his ass handed to him by heels, faces, and sometimes even other Jobbers who are popular enough to get tossed a mercy win once in a while to keep the fans cheering.  These doormats, punching bags, chronic losers are what I like to call Gold Star Jobbers.  The grapplers who go their entire career and not manage to win a single bout-these are the jobbers truly dedicated to their craft of getting squashed and making it look good.
(Note: Just featuring my fave "top 5" if you will of Jobbers who to the best of my knowledge maintained a perfect 0 in the win column) 

1. Red Tyler  Imagine being a professional wrestler, having been in the ring for a respectable number of years.  After countless singles and tag matches against some of the biggest names in the industry in front of millions of fans live and nationally broadcast on television, you decide it's time to hang up the boots and retire quietly after a successful and (hopefully) respectably lucrative career.  Now after all of this time and energy dedicated to your craft, you loved your job and your co-workers were always a pleasure to be around; you would think that fans around the world would remember you for your ring presence, your dedication to taking bumps and putting over other wrestlers when called upon or your great relations with your fans.

Not Red Tyler, after years in the ring getting his butt kicked time and time again, he is remembered for getting epic wedgies-especially the one pictured below provided by Mr. Perfect.  All the time, energy, blood sweat and tears spent as a pro wrestler to put on a good show for the fans-and his identifier is a pair of green spandex trunks a mile high up his ass crack.  While not the first time I ever saw a pair of trunks get wedgied in a match, this was definitely the most dramatic, even the match announcers get a few jibes in at Red Tyler's expense at the end of this match up.  What a way to be remembered ;-)

 

Of course, Mr. Perfect wasn't the only one to send Red back to the lockers picking lycra out of his teeth, here's Ted DiBiase Sr. The Million Dollar Man getting in on the trunk yanking fun....He gets a little help from Virgil as well.

 2.  Kenny "Ken Doll"
Whenever someone mentions pro jobbers Kenny is one of the first thoughts that come to my mind.  With an ass that could crack walnuts, cradled in those 2nd skin trunks that always let just a little bit of cheek bubble out, handsome face and one of the best bodies in pro wrestling at the time Kenny was always a pleasure to watch.  I think the simplicity of his ring gear with the only "flair" being those initials on the ass of his trunks in contrast to a lot of the facepaint and over the top costumes (tassels and rhinestones and feathers oh my) of many wrestlers during that period was a big part of what made me enjoy watching Kenny (and Eddie Jackie, another Gold Star who had a similar ring gear setup).  Another element with Kenny is how excited he always got in the ring, putting his all into attempting to take down the heel but invariably all his effort being basically useless and ending up flattened on the mat. 

 

3.  Bob Emory
Bob Emory was a phenomenal jobber, suffering through what were probably some of the most humiliating squash matches I've had the pleasure of watching (and re-watching over and over on youtube lol).  One of the few who were even thrown out to lose to other jobbers, putting him at the absolute bottom of the proverbial totem pole in the wrestling world.  One of these famous "Jobbing for a Jobber" matches was Bob's bout against Curtis Thompson.  Some might call Curtis a face due to the fact he went on to gain some fame as Firebreaker Chip (Firebreaker? really?) but for the most part the bite size bodybuilder ended up down for the count and wore some amazing tiny trunks doing it ;-)

I haven't really sat down and tried to figure out the time line but I suppose this match could have been the springboard point for Thompson that sent him on to become the Firebreaker and knocked Emory the last few notches down to rock bottom jobbermeat.  On the upside, Emory had lots of opportunity in this bout to display his phenomenal armbar skills.

4. Eddie Jackie Poor cute little Eddie Jackie, he certainly always had an energy and spunk about him, but he invariably ended up down for the count. 

5. Mike Tolbert
I guess I can't really call Tolbert a gold star jobber as he did manage a win over Doc Dean, which is pretty sad considering the Dean's amazing record in Europe.  Unfortunately he wasn't one of the Intercontinentals the WWE felt like pushing much...or at all, so he spent time going down to punching bags like Mike Tolbert.  Sad, but at least we got to see Tolbert get the stuffing beaten out of him a lot.

 So cheers to these and all gold star jobbers out there and their dedication to being humiliated for our viewing pleasure :-)

Images and video are property of WCW/WWE none belong to me and were not used for any profit, solely entertainment.

Traveling Trade Chapter 1.

In the 9 years that I have been an active "pro" wrestler, I spent 7 of them billed as a jobber in several different underground federations.  It's like promoters can smell it on you.  Maybe it's just your look, or your attitude in general or something else entirely.  But they just seem to know almost instantly what role the fans will want to see a new guy playing in the ring.
At first, fresh out of high school and pumped full of energy, a bright eyed muscle head teenager- I was a shoe in for the beefcake babyface fan favorite.  Everywhere we went with our small promotion the crowds (while often small) were ecstatic to see this new handsome face, built like a brickhouse geared up in simple solid color trunks and matching boots going by the name Atlas and destroying the ranks of paunchy wrestler wannabes and occasionally taking a challenge from a local tough guy and laying him to waste-always ready and willing to flex and pose for the fans.

Then the crowds along our tour routes began to get bored with the gimmick.  Personally I blame the likes of Brock Lesnar, Chris Masters, Bobby Lashley and so on.  People were tired of the big bodybuilder just tromping through the roster of wrestlers and never facing any kind of challenge.   After a few more weeks of traveling around and crowd reactions dwindling more and more with every new stop, and some of our regular venues outright booing me, management had enough.

They billed a fairly new guy as the mysterious martial artist called Onyx, I was thinking the whole gimmick was just been there done that but the first place we debuted him was just hypnotized by this guy, his entrance, ring gear the whole package just had them eating out of his palm.  He did his little promo "I'm the new badass in town blah blah blah" slapped around a local no name for 4 minutes and left the ring to thundering applause.  I had to give him credit, he was certainly acrobatic and knew his way around the ring and obviously no stranger to the gym, but I'll admit I was jealous that I was fast becoming the "dead weight" around the locker room and watching this guy eat up my newly lost superstardom.

After his well received debut,  Onyx was billed to meet Atlas, and naturally win in an effort to boost the new guys star power and relieve some of the repetition of my appearances-a chink in Superman's armor as it were.  I wasn't excited about it, used to being on top and getting the adoration, but I wasn't going to be that guy whining to management about match outcome, so I took it in stride.

On the night of our first match I came to my locker as usual, it was a familiar arena in Northern California that we had come to many times before, and they were one of the most anti-Atlas crowds we had encountered.  People barely even approached me at our promo events when we first got into town so I was feeling pretty down by the time I had to gear up for the show.  I opened my locker and slid on my boots, knee high black leather with silver laces and fairly thick soles.  They looked like a monster to walk around in but they were actually pretty comfortable.  I pulled out my trunks, expecting the usual solid glossy black trunks that complemented the boots I had choosen.  Instead of my trusty solid black briefs however, they looked like somebody had rolled them through a bucket of glitter.  Shiny silver embroidery spelled my name across the ass and a clusterfuck of glittering curlicues and swirls dotted my trunks all over the place.  I figured now that I would be getting my ass kicked they wanted me to look more flamboyant and ridiculous. I just shook my head and pulled the trunks on, noticing that they rode a little higher than usual in back-ignoring my new bikini-ish tailoring I headed out to the entry ramp.

Humiliating Holds: Spladle

There are certain holds that for one reason or another, grabs the attention (and lust) of a wrestling kink enthusiast and can turn a match from bland to scorching hot in a matter of seconds.  One of these holds for me is the spladle.  Of course, it isn't too hard to figure out the appeal behind this hold- legs spread apart, knees by your head, ass in the air and the jobber is completely helpless to do anything about it, open to a grope, spanking or maybe go full out and fondle your jobber boy until he messes up his ring gear ;-)

Some pictures of this effective hold-which I believe isn't utilized nearly enough in erotic wrestling

Derek DaSilva Crotch Ripped

Josh Goodman in trouble

Trent Novak getting owned

Pretty Chip Chang gets ripped

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jobe Zander: Another Kid Vicious Victim

(Copyrighted Pics are from BG East and Rockhard Wrestling, images are linked to their respective webistes.  All other pictures in this post were taken from the web and no infringement is intended)

Jobber of the Week: Z-Man/Tom Zenk

One of my favorites to watch get pounded growing up Tom Zenk the Z-Man.

Bonus: another Z-Man in the ring today, Zack Vazquez, is another pleasure to watch, I see a pattern forming lol.

Endangered Species: The Jobber

Some people say that there is no such thing as a jobber in professional wrestling anymore. While they are a rare sight to see these days especially in the WWE conglomerate of federations they haven't gone away completely. Here are some clips of modern day jobbber/comedy relief Santino who is just as entertaining on the mic as he is getting knocked around the ring. A pioneer for more jobbers to show up in the future? Who knows.


Santino Marella vs. Jack Swagger

Santino DQ's himself

One Hit Wonder

After a long line of humiliating pins and k.o. finishes I was offered a bone by management. They said to attract a bigger crowd they wanted to feature boxing matches and they wanted me to face the first boxer they brought in. I thought this could be a nice change of pace and I was sure I would finally get a 1 in the wins column, I might get my ass kicked wrestling but going blow for blow would be a different story.

I wasn't familiar with erotic boxing so I felt a little silly at first in my ring gear. Bright yellow boxing gloves, a matching thong and white knee high boots with yellow laces. I ignored the feeling and worked to psych myself up, this guy probably hadn't been very successful in the boxing arenas so he had come to our fed looking to beat on a few wrestlers to get his rocks off. I would show him he wasn't going to have a cakewalk here like he thought.

I came out to the ring as the Gold Stinger as me boxing stage name and I couldn't believe the sight of the trained boxer they brought in. This kid was 5'7 and 110 soaking wet. He wore blue in contrast to my yellow and his arms looked about as threatening as styrofoam. I couldn't help cracking a smile watching him jump around pumping his fists at the crowd, and then turned to face me pounding his gloves together with a dark scowl. I rolled my neck still grinning as the ref made a mockery of asking for a good clean fight. We touched gloves and the bell rang. As I lifted my arms this punk slid in fast as lightning I looked down to see his blue glove come crashing into my face. The uppercut lifted me off my feet and I hit the canvas hard and out cold. My cock growing in the pouch of my thong as the ref counted me out. The Boxer jumped around my spreadeagle form before just to add insult to injury he grabbed my hands making me jerk myself in the boxing gloves. My cum load seeped out my thong and coated a good portion of the gloves. He slapped my hands away leaving me sprawled in the ring and cummed. At first silent in shock at probably the shortest boxing match ever seen, the crowd went wild and The Boxer was officially born. For a month matches between him and other wrestlers and 2 rematches against me. Each of my matches ending in a one hit knockout. Our third and final match took about 6 minutes. 6 minutes of me wildly swinging and humiliated as he easily dodged me all over the ring before he tired of the game and after a wild haymaker that swung wide he came in for that famous uppercut and left me sprawled in the middle of the ring counting sheep. To end our final match he decided to give a big ending. He crammed his cock in my mouth, facefucking me and with perfect timing as the ref lifted his arm his load blew soaking my face in his victory cumshot. Photos snapped of my face covered in his cum and my thong showing a huge throbbing tent.

Ball Grabs

Pics of different grapplers getting the fight squeezed right out of them.

Size Matters

My real name is Kevin, you might know me better by my ring name 'DJ K' then again maybe not, my wrestling career wasn't very long and I wasn't the most respected, being one of Alex's "boys" and all.  I wasn't the popular kid in school by any means, but I started to work out, was on the swim team and was finally getting noticed by girls at school and it felt pretty good.

I had always been fascinated by pro wrestlers and my senior year I felt confident enough with my body that I thought I had a good shot at trying out.  I confided in Alex, a friend and fellow wrestling fan my ambition to try out for a pro wrestling federation and I could see his eyes almost literally light up.  We had often watched wrestling together and I always thought it was weird that he seemed obsessed with a lot of the jobbers and frequent losers whenever we watched matches together. 

We were alone at his house when I told him my plan and he jumped up in his excitement, "That would be so cool!" he almost shouted.  "In the ring with all the big names and starring in PPVs! Awesome!".  I smiled seeing his enthusiasm "Yeah man, I just wish I knew where to start." Alex seemed lost in thought for a second "Well I have a friend that scouts talent out here, hardly the WWE but it's a start at least."  I was surprised that Alex knew anybody actually connected with real pro wrestling and I was immediately interested.  Alex was a shrimpy kid, pale and a shock of bright red hair on his head, the only thing that saved him from being a total bully victim was either me, or that the kid was a genious and could talk his way out of anything. 

So I finally asked him "How do you know this guy?" He smiled at me "I met him online in a wrestling message board, even had a match with him and kicked his ass." I couldn't help it and started laughing "You kicked a wrestler's ass? C'mon".  Alex's face changed, "what you don't think I could handle myself? I'll kick your ass in the ring too!"

I just shook my head "ok man whatever you say" I moved to stand up in front of him.  I was 6' lean defined torso and arms and legs that were cut to perfection.  I didn't have any real fighting experience but was confident that no way would I be taken down by all 5'5 of Alex.  "Look Alex the last thing I'm gonna do is fight you..." "you're right, you won't fight, you'll just get beat!" He growled and then the next thing I felt was an explosion of pain in my crotch.  I sank to my knees covering my injured groin.  I looked up at Alex in confusion just as his uppercut connected and all went black.

I woke up and immediately freaked out, my head still ringing.  I immediately realized I wasn't in my clothes, naked except for a shiny white satin bikini brief.  It was skintight and shoved my package up front and center like a waving white flag.  I immediately stood up and I had to admit the tight silky smooth briefs against my cock kind of turned me on.  I looked around for Alex "Alex! What the fuck man!" I heard movement at the other side of the room and realized I was in a wrestling ring and it was dark except for one spotlight over the ring.

"You want to be a wrestler, you should at least get some time actually in a ring you think?" Alex's voice didn't even sound the same.  "Alex come on man I told you I'm not gonna fight you!" Alex appeared in the ring, wearing bright red square cut shorts that almost perfectly matched his hair, also skintight and showing a bulge that was more than I ever would have thought would belong to Alex.  He popped his knuckles "and I told you, you won't be fighting, just getting your ass kicked." With that he swung at me , I caught his wrist and before I could try to reason with him his free hand slammed into my abs.  My stomach was pretty much fully relaxed allowing his fist to sink in deep.  I doubled over from the shot knocking all the air out of me and Alex wrapped his arm over my head and dropped cracking my face to the canvas.

My head was ringing I was short of breath and couldn't figure out what drugs were driving Alex out of his mind.  Before I could even collect my head, I felt a strong pull on my hair and my briefs getting yanked up my ass in a g string wedgie and Alex manhandled me finally shoving me headfirst into the nearest ringpost.  I fell on my knees still hanging between the turnbuckles, fighting to stay conscious as the ringing in my head just kept getting louder. A heavy boot CRACKED into my spine, then STOMPING into my back, over and over until I was a ragdoll flailing with each savage kick into my spine.  I felt a hand close over my bulge and squeeze pulling me to my feet and walking me backward hunched over in pain as the squeezing fist only pulled harder when i struggled.  as i moaned in pain i heard Alex laughing as he turned the crushing fist into a much gentler massage.  i felt my dick getting hard as he continued and started to freak "What the fuck man! I'm not a 'mo!" and tried to thrash free from his grip.

Alex dodged an elbow I sent back at him "A homo? This isn't about gay and straight Kevin."  He grabbed my hair and drilled my face into the canvas.  "This isn't even about sex!" I felt him snatching the flimsy white bikini off of me.  I had been naked in front of Alex countless times, but this was different, embarrassing.  I did my best to cover my body as he threw the trunks aside, he SLAPPED his hand against my balls and the scream that came out even scared me.  I didn't sound like myself at all, it was like an animal dying-as if I wasn't really here and watching some poor gazelle biting the dust on animal planet, completely out of my head.  "This is about Alpha Male Kevin, you taking what the Alpha decides to give you and loving every minute of it.  This is domination Kevin, at its most base, and primal state.  I felt his bulge against my back, hard and full, and getting bigger as he talked.  I heard the creak of the rubbery trunks he wore being stretched, and then a splitting pain...his cock...there was that scream again, and everything went black. ....

I woke up, still in the ring, and still naked and sweaty.  I moved a hand to my back, trying to nurse the sorest spots, only to feel something wet, my first thought was blood as I brought my hand back to look, only to see it was almost clear and sticky liquid on my fingers.  As I went to reach back again and get up to my knees I winced as a deep ache spread through my body and I couldn't bite back the groan of pain.  "Sorry I got carried away earlier."  Alex grinned in the corner, still naked, his cock hard and tight against his stomach. 

Still disoriented I manged to choke out "The fuck did you do?" Alex walked over to me, shoving me back down to the mat.  "I think we both know the answer to that question Kevin, you got bitched. Now come on, I have promoters for you to meet."  He pulled me back to my feet by my hair, and as I jerked to pull away from him, he hooked 2 fingers in my ass, setting off that ache in my body, and to my shock my cock grew as hard as Alex's was as he lead me away out of the ring, the heel-pimp to my jobber-bitch.