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Big Pole Vaulter

Wednesday, August 7th, 2024 -- by Bacchus

For French pole vaulter Anthony Ammirati at the Olympics a few days ago, it was both the best of times and the worst of times. The bad news is, he knocked down the crossbar and didn’t make his jump, keeping him out of the finals and away from medal opportunities. But the good news? He failed because the bulge of his enormous cock snagged the crossbar, and the video clip of his manly prowess immediately went super-viral.

For however long viral fame lasts, he’s got the most famous dick since Rasputin’s.

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Cathy Rigby, Nude In Sports Illustrated

Wednesday, May 25th, 2022 -- by Bacchus

Fifty years ago, this photograph was considered pretty scandalous:

Olympic athlete and gymnast Cathy Rigby naked on a balance beam in Sports Illustrated

Some sources say it was the first nude photo ever to appear in Sports Illustrated. I don’t know if that’s true, but this photo of Olympian and US National Champion gymnast Cathy Rigby absolutely did appear in the August 21, 1972 issue, illustrating a story titled Sugar And Spice — And Iron. The photographer Jerry Cooke took the shot as part of his Bodies In Motion series, celebrating Olympic athletes as the epitome of perfect bodies in sports. I’d say Cathy was a great choice!

P.S. ErosBlog readers are always advised to click on images that appear here. Very often the images are linked to additional information — sometimes a gallery of similar photos, sometimes a larger and less-cropped version that offers additional context. In this case, you will see a hand-lettered caption by the photographer that says “Look but don’t touch!”

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Naked Discus Hurling

Monday, September 19th, 2016 -- by Bacchus

A return to classical (lack of) costumes ought to be the major innovation of the Olympic Games in the 21st century. It would surely do wonders to restore the flagging viewership:

nude female discus thrower

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Did You Catch The Aerial Fisting Finals?

Wednesday, February 17th, 2010 -- by Bacchus

Here’s Dr. Marty Klein on Those Beautiful Olympic Bodies. And he’s right — it’s astonishing how professional commentators can blather for hours about the virtues of the athletes without ever once seeming to notice their beauty:

Yes, their commitment to excellence is inspiring, their tenacity is beyond comprehension, their personal stories are (occasionally) fascinating. And there’s that whole agony-of-defeat thing from which we seemingly just cannot turn away.

With all the statistics, superlatives, and medals, does nobody notice–these men and women are good-looking!

Viewing this fortnight’s competition out of Vancouver, there are bodies for every taste–short and tall, wide and narrow, Nordic, African, Asian. We even have competitors from the planet’s genetic melting pots, such as Mongolia, Nepal, Montenegro, and Israel.

But with all the enthusiastic commentary (and equally enthusiastic blather) coming at me in High Def, I’ve yet to hear, “Now that is a gorgeous young man,” or “Wow, she is a really attractive young woman,” or “Oh my, I think I’m in love!”

True, many competitors are bundled up in snowsuits. But those tights are so tight that you can tell which of the men are circumcised. Besides, what about the figure skaters? A small army of designers makes a fortune imagining outfits that will be very, very sexy–while judges, commentators, and audience deny that that’s the intent.

Yes, yes, of course we’re admiring these people for their performance, not their eroticism. But are they really so separate? Surely, health, talent, youth, and performance under pressure are erotic. And just as surely, any emotionally healthy athlete relates to his or her body erotically, just as non-athletes do.

It wouldn’t be worth mentioning if it weren’t so blatantly absent.

It’s worth mentioning that they used to conduct the Olympics naked. (The chair will entertain a motion at this time all in favor say “aye” any objections hearing none motion carried.)

I do wonder, though, whether some of the blindness to Olympic hotness isn’t informed by the media-culture obsession with thinness. A lot of Olympians are muscular to the point of being “thick-bodied” from the perspective of the people that think they need to airbrush away the hips of already-skinny models. I’m old enough to remember when Mary Lou Retton went bouncy-bouncy-bounce through all of our lives (and through a great many adolescent fantasies; I could, but won’t, provide detailed anecdotal testimony). You could tell, even then, that the media-culture gatekeepers thought her legs were too big; they didn’t think she was pretty enough to brighten our boxes of Wheaties, and they were — as any rational man of the right age can tell you — fucking insane.

 

Search For Beauty

Sunday, July 5th, 2009 -- by Dr. Faustus

I continue to venture through pre-Code movies made in Hollywood, to see what might be of naughty interest there. This week I came up with Search for Beauty (1934).

Our heroes are Olympic athletes Don Jackson (played by Buster Crabbe) and Good Blond Girl Barbara Hilton (played by Ida Lupino). Their antagonists, a trio of grifters: two rather dim con artists and a not-so-dim Bad Brunette Girl Jean Strange. Jean, who is played by Gertrude Michael) (who we last saw on ErosBlog singing “Sweet Marihuana”), fronts for a racy “fitness” magazine, and then takes over a “health hotel.”

The opening of the movie contains not just stock footage of the 1932 Los Angeles Olympics but both men’s and women’s locker room scenes. The men’s scene contains the earliest guy-butt shot I know of in a mass-release Hollywood movie.

bare male butts in the locker room

Leading man Buster Crabbe was an All-American swimmer in real life. He would go on to become the first cinematic Flash Gordon as well as Buck Rogers. This movies dares not just to ask, but also to answer, the question “what does he look like in the shower?”

Pretty good, as it turns out.

Buster Crabbe naked in the shower

The big gag about the “health hotel” is that manly Don combs the world for the best male and female athletes from the United States and the British Empire to serve as “instructors,” and we all know what our trio of grifters hope that will lead to.

(Cranky digressive rant: In the mind of whoever wrote this movie, “The British Empire” apparently meant only the United Kingdom and the pre-war Dominions (i.e. Ireland, Canada, South Africa, Australia, and New Zealand), and the only athletes worth looking at anywhere were white. This in spite of the fact that India, at least, though part of the British Empire in 1934, sent its own teams to the 1932 Summer Olympics. Their mixed race (to the best of my ability to tell, by reading its roster) field hockey team took home gold medals. But there’s nary an athlete of visible African or Asian ancestry to be seen herein. Internal response to cranky digressive rant: Dude, it’s 1934. Do you really expect both racial enlightenment and guy butts in the same 77-minute movie?)

Anyway, once all the beautiful young people are assembled, they’re obliged to put on a gratuitous Art Deco style musical number, so carefully coordinated that one wonders if it didn’t inspire Leni Riefenstahl. The homoerotic element is not neglected, naturally.

guys exercising

The plot of the movie cranks forward from there, given a bit of crackle by the fact that it’s largely a battle of wits between Good Blond Girl and Bad Brunette Girl. Good Blond Girl wins in the end, with a bit of legal trickery that probably violated local Blue Sky laws (but hey, who’s counting), winning both corporate control of the health hotel and the heart (and excellent pecs) of Buster Crabbe. All ends happily for our heroes. They even get a bad visual pun to end the movie with.

the end of the movie

But perhaps that’s not my favorite detail. That would be the pair of shots depicting the fate of Bad Brunette Girl, who is forced to “exercise” at the end of the movie. Take a close look at one of her “instructors” in the background.

exercise scene

No, a closer look:

vintage camel toe

Even in the pre-Code era, movie studios had censors. All I can say about whoever watched this movie is “dock that censor a day’s pay for napping on the job.”

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