“Everyone thinks that everything is staged, but the only thing that’s fake about pro wrestling is the finish. “It was actually an accident,” he explained. Then, after a mishap onstage, Perry discovered what so many villains have always known: It’s fun to be bad. Perry, 29, first made a name for himself as Reverend Stu, Pastor of Disaster.Īccording to his fans, Reverend Stu’s trademark was humor and an over-the-top laying on of hands. In a small locker room that could just as easily be called a dressing room, Perry talked to me about showmanship, faith and being gay in an unusual sport. It was a few hours before that evening’s performance when Perry gave me a tour of the facility. The place felt charged with the type of creative energy that springs up when people are busy making something special. When I arrived, the staff was in hustle mode, exuding that universal, pre-show energy as they set up for the match. While I was happy to check off yet another item on the gay agenda, the last thing I wanted was to visit a place I imagined was not only hyper-masculine, but a magnet for MAGA hats. It’s gloriously outlandish, part of a group costume, and based on “GLOW,” the critically acclaimed Netflix show about lady wrestlers.Įven so, when Ohio Valley Wrestling, or OVW, announced its first openly-gay heavyweight champion, I spent a week in my feelings about actually attending a match. “It’s sweaty guys in underwear picking each other up … it’s pretty gay.” Becoming a HeelĪnd I’ve been working on my Halloween costume all summer. “I’ve always said you have to be a little gay to be a wrestler,” said Perry, who performs as Amon, Demon Marquis of Hell when he is not working as a supervisor at Uspiritus, a residential psychiatric facility for kids.
Literature nerds love to dissect the elaborately-detailed, naked fireside wrestling scene in DH Lawrence’s “Women in Love” (Passed off by Lawrence as two good friends larking about), so when I asked Stu Perry, the new champion, about it, his self-awareness was refreshing:
This milestone for gays probably shouldn’t be surprising - homoeroticism has always been the elephant in the wrestling ring. The characters have often relied on stereotypes and jingoism, but it’s 2018, and maybe pro wrestling is finally ready for a wider audience. That there are athletes who are gay isn’t unusual, but for a lot of us, this particular, er… sport - a hybrid of showmanship and athleticism - evokes gargantuan, mulleted white men who can barely be restrained, with spittle flying as they shout threats at their opponent. Ohio Valley Wrestling has its first openly-gay heavyweight champion, and fellow queers, we’ve been missing out.