Oakland’s Underground Wrestling Event Where Misfits Rule the Ring

Experiencing the physical world of Hoodslam

Being a professional wrestler is brutal. Ligaments get torn. Necks get broken. Heads get concussed. And the wrestlers of Hoodslam, Oakland’s underground wrestling tournament, are fearless champions of the sweat-soaked sport.

But unlike more traditional wrestling matches, Hoodslam, which takes place every month at the Oakland Metro Opera House, is “performance art” with few sanctions: Fighting literally transcends the ring, often taking place either directly in the middle of the audience or on top of the bar; smoking and drinking is encouraged; and if you’re lucky, the host will pour a lukewarm shot of whiskey directly into your mouth.

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When I attended on a Friday earlier this year (pre–shelter in place), people packed the house. As the program ramped up, hundreds of goths, geeks, and metalheads ironically chanted, “Fuck. The. Fans!” with fervid glee, pounding their fists on the wrestling mat and smoking fat spliffs. I had to be vigilant since, according to the host, at any point during a match, a wrestler could fly out of the ring and into the crowd.

The only thing between you and them, he says, is “weed smoke and your shitty life decisions.”

He wasn’t exaggerating. While shooting photos in the front row, I got covered in wrestlers’ sweat, spittle, fruity cereal, whiskey, and flour. My sobriety, too, immediately went out the window. During the opening match, one of the wrestlers handed me his soggy joint, advising me to pass it around. So I did — and stoned I got. I considered it all a part of the experience.

With its liberating atmosphere, it’s easy to see why Hoodslam gets such a consistent turnout. “It’s like an oasis,” says in-house photographer Mark Johnston. Ultimately, though, I was drawn to Hoodslam because of its people. I wondered: Are any aspects of the wrestlers’ characters real? Who are the people behind the personas? And why do they do it?

After interviewing Hoodslam’s motley crew, I learned that many of their personas are amalgamations based on themselves and their past experiences. They also have diverse histories: Some wrestlers are former civil servants, others are combat veterans in recovery, and some, well, are stoners who simply like to entertain.

The Stoner Brothers