I am not what one would consider the wrestling type—nowhere near it.
I did not grow up in the business, and I don't have any background in amateur wrestling or combat sports at a high school or collegiate level. I'm not big and strong—hell, I'm not even muscular. I'm not blobby and fat, either—just average, or maybe even below average in some ways.
I can't move around like I used to. Getting down the stairs with a bum left ankle definitely does me no favors. According to my doctor, I'm in perfect health, except for my weight, which has been a constant struggle even after losing 70 pounds since COVID-19 began. I still have another 15 to 25 pounds to go, and then I need to gain muscle just to give me a bit of tone.
I've only now truly begun to grow into my body. Due to my neurodevelopmental setbacks, let's call them, I wasn't physically gifted or blessed. I have also had time to grow into my mind, but not my recall. The recall has been in full force since 2007 and hopefully will not turn off for long. Still, I've lacked social grace that, while endearing me to some, has turned off many people around me.
But that's why what I'm about to do is ultimately perfect. To succeed, I need to utilize that mindset and a level of artistry and creativity that most journalists I know don't really get to flex…and on top of that, expand my body and mind to make something new.
I can remember the moment—the inciting incident, for all the lit and theater nerds reading this—that began this whole train coming down the tracks. Like most great ideas or discoveries, it came out of the blue. I was not expecting it; it just…came.
It was the evening of April 3, 2024, in the slight cold, when I stood face to face with a podcasting god who also happened to be not only one of my inspirations when beginning as a journalist but eventually became one of my teachers and best friends in the industry.
It was the legendary Shereen Marisol Meraji, creator of NPR's "Code Switch" and a friend and mentor, who planted the seeds shortly after she had done a masterful job interviewing yet another keen and strong sports and philosophical force of nature in Hanif Abdurraqib. I had no idea, throughout this entire thing, that she had something she wanted to tell me…that she had an idea, specifically, for me.
"Hey, Armon," she had begun, "Did you know that there's this pro wrestling school that's opened in Berkeley on San Pablo Avenue?"
She knew about my pro wrestling fandom. When I was studying at UC Berkeley's J-School a few years prior, my love for wrestling was somewhat infamous and a bit of a private joke. Wrestling had just come back on the up-and-up after Vince McMahon's departure due to sex trafficking claims, and Paul Levesque, better known as Triple H, was taking control of the booking and hitting perfect notes 9 out of 10 times.
But I had decided, back then, not to let my freak flag fly. Not just because no one around me was doing sports journalism except for maybe one person, and even then, he was connecting it to social issues. I had already gotten laughed out of the building in high school and undergrad, apart from my senior year, for my love of wrestling. So, consequently, I had done no stories…but I was aware of the school and had said so.
"Why the hell then did you never do a story about it?" Shereen had asked.
All I could do was shake my head. Getting into the complexities and traumas that led me to cheer wrestling but not write about it would take way too long, so I defaulted.
"Long story, Shereen," I stated, "But I do know the school. Members of The Rock's family run it; it's a big deal."
"You know, Armon," she replied, "I think you should do a story about it. Maybe highlight it a bit and tap into your love of wrestling."
But a funny little thing happened: Shereen and I are very similar in thinking and operating. When she gets an idea and I can get into the driver's seat, I can accurately guess where she's going. I then verbalized the thought I could see glinting in her eyes.
"You just want to see me do the story so you can watch me drop an elbow off the top rope, huh?"
"Maybe…"
I had to laugh at that one. It was genuinely humorous and even a pretty novel idea. I had decided long ago that I wouldn't do wrestling journalism. As far as I was concerned, there were already fantastic people doing the job, such as Dave Meltzer, Bryan Alvarez, and Bill Apter. There's a long list. Nothing I could do would add any value…or so I thought.
Driving home and even in my sleep, I kept turning the idea over and over again like a metaphorical stone, examining its contours and looking at it from all angles. Stories about wrestling schools had already been done; hell, Apple TV+ recently did a documentary about New Jersey's infamous Monster Factory, which has churned out unique talents such as Bam Bam Bigelow, D'Lo Brown, and even the current World Heavyweight Champion Damian Priest.
So, I had to determine what would make it unique. Why would this be different than everything else on the market? Well…looking around, it seemed that everyone had done the angle on how these schools developed talent and how they served their communities. If this was a piece of local journalism, it could work. However, I had to go deeper if I wanted broader appeal.
I knew I had to push it to those who didn't like wrestling at all, to those who may have known it from a glance at a late-night talk show hosted by Kimmel, Fallon, or Colbert. The casuals knew about it in passing but needed to understand the industry more than the hardcore fans did.
I needed to push past this political barrier we live in as part of contemporary America and reach out to those across the political line who see wrestling as a thing of propaganda and Americana when it is so much more. I knew I needed to become The Greater Fool to dive into why we fall in love with these heroes and boo the villains, to understand what it took to create and maintain a character while also discovering something bigger in the process.
A connection to The Rock or Roman Reigns? Especially because we were close, date-wise, at that point to WrestleMania? No… it wouldn't work. That's only a piece of the puzzle, not the whole.
And then, I thought of the pieces that best engaged me: those done by the Tony Bourdains, the Morgan Spurlocks, even the Michael Moores of the world, the ones where the documentarian, while looking into the subject, would get involved. That was such a lost art because when you dive headfirst into a story about a world completely different from your own, the person who inevitably changes the most is you.
Once I found that, the rest just clicked into place. A wrestling journalist who would cover the industry from the inside, completely turning the expectation on its head and shattering a glass ceiling in journalism that found wrestling as fake, a forgery, something to turn the nose down on and dismiss. Because I just couldn't. It was too…enticing.
Before I even began the project, I knew I needed all the help I could get. Thank God Berkeley is still letting me in the door. Having some of my old mentors still willing to guide me when and where needed helped for sure, as I decided, before beginning this endeavor, to pitch it, whether to NPR, The Athletic, Bleacher Report, SB Nation, The Ringer, Deadspin, Complex Sports; you name it, I pitched it, to varying degrees of success, but mainly failure.
Most never returned my emails. Some were a bit more polite, citing budget problems. However, I suspect that even if the budget problems weren't a thing, they still wouldn't take it because they only saw what I was doing as just a sports story.
One email, though, was particularly notable from The Athletic:
“Thanks for reaching out and for your patience in my reply. I appreciate you putting together such a thoughtful pitch. It's impressive and well-thought-out, and what you propose is very interesting.
Unfortunately, this pitch goes way beyond the scope of what we would solicit for freelancers for a few reasons: We do not cover professional wrestling full time; we have only done a few narrative podcasts over the last couple of years, and that type of endeavor would only be proposed and executed by someone on our full-time staff and related to a topic that we cover fully (i.e. NFL, NBA); and last: we do not produce documentaries. Those are enormous undertakings from a financial and time commitment scale and we haven't moved into that space yet.
My best suggestion is for you to 100% pursue this project as you go forward with your training. You could document your training and experiences via a Substack newsletter (potential paid subscription opportunity) or Tumblr page. You could produce your own podcasts, interview guests and provide insight into your experience. And you can also document your training and experiences via social media, either TikTok, IG, or more drawn-out content via YouTube. I think this endeavor would provide an amazing learning experience for you, and importantly, you'd be able to control the narrative and story that you want to build out, and then potentially pitch or license this content down the line. I would suggest promoting your endeavors on wrestling community pages and places like Reddit to draw an audience to your work.
I wish you all the best as you pursue your training and delve into the world of professional wrestling. If our newsroom decides to cover wrestling down the line, I will hold on to your email pitch and be sure to reach out.”
One of my old mentors at Drexel had reviewed the pitch, and while she liked it, she did mention why she thought no one had been biting.
"The only issue I see is that, in this pitch, the journalist becomes the story. And that's often not ideal," she had said. She liked the pitch and still thought it was a good idea but knew as much as I did that this would be the project's shortfall.
Even my mother, as supportive as she was, looked at me when I told her about the project and said, "I think the idea of looking into the business is great, but you getting in there? That's stupid. Don't expect me to pick up the pieces when you get paralyzed."
She also thought this profession promoted thug-like, Trumpian behavior, and she's not a fan of violence. I'm not a fan of any of those things, either. I'm in it purely for the storytelling and entertainment factor, which means that when I tell this story, I'm going to have to find a way to help people connect beyond the violence.
This in itself would be a challenge, as I would have to dive back into a theater background I had long since thought was behind me to create a character that was as much me as someone who wasn't. I would have to be authentic but fit the paradigm and rules that dictate this great art. If this wasn't Herculean, I don't know what would be.
Then comes the factor of the school. I doubt Oasis Pro Wrestling would teach me for free, and I understand that. So, when I reached out, I had to be careful. I pulled no punches, and I was open and honest about what I was going to do. I had expected to be laughed out of the building…but I had no idea what would come down the pipeline.
“Good morning Armon.
This sounds like a fun documentary that would show the work we do as wrestlers and prepare them for the work they do in the ring. We would like to invite you in to discuss this and how it would work. Are you available Monday or Tuesday? Those would be good days to come.”
So now, I have a date with a wrestling school. Will they allow me to do the full scope and learn? I would be a one-man crew, which is heavily intimidating. I need to get stronger physically and mentally. Before stepping into this ring, I already know who I am; I know the challenges and risks. I know I'm putting my life on the line. But that's the fun part.
It's an exciting journey. Only time will tell where it will lead me. But, breaking news: wrestling just got real.