Death Didnt Do Anything but Slow Me Down Red Hood Art

As a human being dressed as a BART railroad train flies through the air and lands on an opponent with a cereal box for a head, the packed oversupply begins to chant with an increasing fervency:

It'due south a Sunday night at DNA Lounge in downtown San Francisco, and hundreds of spectators are surrounding the 16-by-sixteen-human foot pro wrestling ring inside, collectively pounding their palms on the mat in a staccato rhythm that mimics the "Terminator" theme song. Special effects machines shoot hissing plumes of fume into the air while the challengers gyre around the vinyl tarp roofing the ring — BART-Human, a balmy-mannered Bay Surface area transit guy who accidentally became infused with train DNA when he was defenseless in the doors of a radioactive car, and Cereal Man, an intergalactic Sat morning cartoon-inspired superhero who bleeds milk when injured.

Cereal Man, left, wrestles BART-Man during the first Hoodslam match at DNA Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021. — Cereal Man, left, wrestles BART-Man during the beginning Hoodslam friction match at Dna Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021.
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Fists fly, and the rivals' limbs vanquish wayward Froot Loops spilling out of Cereal Man'due south box, so he tosses fistfuls of the colorful grains to clamoring fans. Meanwhile, BART-Man obtains a Clipper card from someone in the oversupply and rubs information technology on his bare chest to regain power for the fight.

Information technology's no use. He climbs to the tops of the ropes and dives toward Cereal Man, who dodges the set on just in time, leaving him face-downward in the band, gasping for breath.

"Go uppppp," pleads a woman watching from the balustrade in a deep, guttural bellow.

She neatly plucks dozens of $1 bills from her wallet and passes them to the fans around her, who continue to throw the cash into the band.

"Despite all of his recent refurbishments, BART-Man is withal struggling," comments Wonder Dave, a ringside announcer who kicked off the show past performing a striptease for the crowd.

"He took a big dive, but there was no water in the puddle," laments co-commentator Doc Atrocity, his face shrouded in a dark-green skull mask.

Commentator Doc Atrocity is introduced at the start of the Hoodslam, an underground pro wrestling show at DNA Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021. — Commentator Doc Barbarism is introduced at the start of the Hoodslam, an underground pro wrestling evidence at DNA Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021.
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With a moving picture of his blue cape, Cereal Homo bounces off the ropes and leaps onto BART-Man before pinning him for a three-count. His walk-on vocal, Bonnie Tyler's "Holding Out for a Hero," echoes over the speakers equally a spotlight pulses over him and he triumphantly pumps his fists into the air.

This is no fever dream. It's the first friction match marking the long-awaited render of Hoodslam, an hole-and-corner pro wrestling showcase laden with over-the-top gimmicks that spawned an "accidental phenomenon" when founder Sam Khandaghabadi began hosting free events out of the now-defunct Victory Warehouse in Oakland more than a decade ago. Since then, information technology's adult a cult audience, joining the slate at the raucous E Bay variety show "Tourettes without Regrets," selling out weekly events at the Oakland Metro Opera Business firm and traveling to matches across the Due west Coast.

Spectators cheer and boo during the Hoodslam underground pro wrestling show at the DNA Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021. — Spectators cheer and boo during the Hoodslam underground pro wrestling show at the Deoxyribonucleic acid Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021.
Douglas Zimmerman/SFGATE

For the uninitiated, Hoodslam isn't quite similar your run-of-the-mill, Friday night smackdown. Imagine an avant-garde functioning art piece with horror and sci-fi elements, or live immersive theater with a partying ensemble of chaotic characters who frequently share their liquor with spectators before completing impressive acrobatic feats. It's a vehement display of sheer athleticism blended with comedic one-liners and the bizarre backstories and carefully calculated rivalries of a soap opera.

"Think of the craziest s—t y'all've ever seen and double it," says Tim Vannoy, a fan I meet waiting in line an hr before the show. He traveled from Arizona for this particular event and has been religiously tuning into livestreamed Hoodslam shows on Twitch for the past few years. "It's irreverent. They don't take information technology seriously. Everything'south a joke that the crowd is in on. And that's why information technology's swell."

His friend, Mark Cross of Emeryville, is every bit enthusiastic.

"I've been waiting for this moment. Waiting," says Cantankerous, drawing out the last word for emphasis. "Before the pandemic, I'd exist at the Metro for every show. That was the point of going out on a Friday night."

Wrestler Cap'n Morgan is slapped by Captain Hook after sharing a drink at the bar during a Hoodslam match at DNA Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021. — Wrestler Cap'n Morgan is slapped past Helm Claw after sharing a drink at the bar during a Hoodslam match at Dna Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021.
Douglas Zimmerman/SFGATE

The sea of fans excitedly chatter as they wait to enter the venue, wearing a mishmash of denim jackets with hand-sewn Iron Maiden patches and T-shirts with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles-inspired Hoodslam logos splashed across the breast. I count at to the lowest degree 80 other people standing in a line that stretches downwards the block and curves around Harrison Street, while DNA Lounge employees periodically remind the growing oversupply to wear their masks once within and show their vaccination cards upon entry.

In the thick of information technology all, I spot Khandaghabadi leaning confronting the cement wall of the venue, casually smoking a cigarette.

"It'southward surreal to be back," she tells me, seeming at ease in spite of barely making it to the milestone event on fourth dimension considering of a delayed flight from Las Vegas, where she spent the weekend wrestling during the WWE Network event SummerSlam. "This is home, but it feels then dissimilar."

Wrestler El Chupacabra prepares to land on Johnny Butabi during a Hoodslam match at DNA Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021. — Wrestler El Chupacabra prepares to state on Johnny Butabi during a Hoodslam match at DNA Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021.
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For many of the wrestlers here, it's their starting time time facing off in the Bay Area in more 17 months. Hoodslam was canceled indefinitely because of the pandemic just earlier its tenth anniversary show, causing those involved to grapple with an identity crunch of sorts equally they lost not merely their sense of purpose and physical outlet, but also a tight-knit sense of community. Some found means to keep their passion for the fine art course alive, traveling across the country to perform at livestreamed shows in empty or sparsely attended venues, including Khandaghabadi, whose wrestling persona, the Dark Sheik, as well serves every bit her main source of income.

"Before the pandemic, I was promoting events and selling tickets. Once that stopped, I was no longer making money," she said. "I accept to swallow. I fight for a living. It's scary, but you do your best and you hope for the all-time. I got vaccinated as soon as I could. It was the simply option I had."

Wrestler D-Rogue hangs on the ropes upside-down as the crowd cheers him on during Hoodslam at DNA Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021.
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The remote events provided some solace, a motivation to continue going. But it simply wasn't the same. Every bit soon as it was safe to do then, Khandaghabadi began planning for an outdoor testify on the first Fri of August at Hoodslam's home base, the Oakland Metro Opera House. That barbarous through, so when the owners of Dna Lounge offered to provide an alternating venue (the wrestling promotion has held a handful of shows there in years past) Khandaghabadi seized the opportunity.

Once word spread that Hoodslam was coming back, the prove sold out in a matter of days. Nonetheless, there'south a feeling of uncertainty in the air on the dark of the event — as a surge in delta variant cases looms over live amusement, Hoodslam'southward wrestlers aren't certain when they'll be able to come dorsum.

Tonight means everything.

Rick Scott, center, of the legendary tag team duo the Stoner Brothers, hits Joe DeSoul as Scott Rick looks on at the Hoodslam underground pro wrestling show at the DNA Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021. — Rick Scott, center, of the legendary tag team duo the Stoner Brothers, hits Joe DeSoul as Scott Rick looks on at the Hoodslam underground pro wrestling show at the Dna Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021.
Douglas Zimmerman/SFGATE

Backstage, the green room takes on the mood of a lively family reunion. Costume-packed duffel bags line the walls and wrestlers giddily talk over 1 another equally they lace up their boots and take sips of beer and saccharide-gratuitous Carmine Bull.

"When I leave in the ring this night, I'chiliad going to feel something I've never felt," says John Martin, whose wrestling persona, Johnny "Drinko" Butabi, is inspired by "Night at the Roxbury," the 1998 comedy film based on the long-running Saturday Dark Live sketch starring Volition Ferrell and Chris Kattan.

"I did ii empty edifice shows during the pandemic, and I'1000 glad I did information technology because it was an experience. Merely information technology was a pretty miserable one, you know?" he continued. "You don't accept to make an entrance, there's no reason to. There'southward no music playing. And it felt terrible ... in that location's just no adrenaline. When you take away the adrenaline, you lot take away the rush of wrestling."

He'southward one of three wrestlers who has been with Hoodslam since its inception. Another is "Ultra Daughter" Brittany Wonder, who started wrestling when she was just fifteen years old.

"It means a lot to be dorsum, because a lot of usa who found ourselves hither didn't fit in at any other major wrestling companies effectually California," Wonder tells me as we watch the crowd filter into the venue. "We're like the island of misfit toys. We're the weird ones. And somewhen we congenital the empire so big that now, everybody else wants to come with us."

Wrestler Brittany Wonder, right, prepares to butt heads with Thicc Martel at Hoodslam, which took place at DNA Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021. — Wrestler Brittany Wonder, right, prepares to butt heads with Thicc Martel at Hoodslam, which took identify at Dna Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021.
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Not everyone on the Hoodslam lineup wrestles full-time. For iii to four days a week, Wonder said she works 12-60 minutes shifts at a tech company. Another wrestler, the werewolf-inspired El Chupacabra, is a husband and male parent of 3 children who works up to 50 hours a week at a Reno-based vitamin distribution center. He stopped wrestling altogether during the pandemic and collection nearly four hours for this evening'due south show.

"And I exit again tonight to become back and start work tomorrow morn," says the wrestler, who is originally from Sunnyvale. "Years ago, I proved a point that I wanted to yet exist a professional wrestler, withal have a solar day job, still have a wife and kids. And not have anything slow me downwardly for information technology. [Prior to Hoodslam,] all of the people hither were struggling, trying to make a name for ourselves. Trying to pursue something else that wasn't working out. When this came into our lives, information technology just changed everyone'due south mentality. The drive of entertaining crowds like this, specially after losing that for and then long, is what pushes me to proceed going."

He said most of the wrestlers accept known each other for more than 15 years. Some of them were there for his wedding ceremony, or the birth of his children. There's an unspoken bond betwixt Hoodslam's wrestlers, an intimacy born out of a mandatory assurance in one another equally they execute risky, gravity-defying moves like moonsaults and piledrivers. It's the ultimate trust autumn — and that'south sort of an art in and of itself.

"Wrestling's a language. When information technology'south washed well, information technology'due south like poetry. When information technology'south not, it sounds like s—t," said Khandaghabadi. "The moves are similar different words — y'all tin utilize a lot of big words and lose people, or apply a lot of small words and sound unproblematic. But the perfect blend creates poetry."

Wrestler Dark Sheik, right, kicks D-Rogue during a tag team Hoodslam match at DNA Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021. — Wrestler Nighttime Sheik, right, kicks D-Rogue during a tag team Hoodslam match at Deoxyribonucleic acid Lounge in San Francisco on Aug. 22, 2021.
Douglas Zimmerman/SFGATE

Long after the crowds are gone, Khandaghabadi reflected on the magnitude of the evening — and how easily it may not have happened at all.

"I call back at that place's a high probability that we slipped in a gap [for live events]. We fit in a magical space where information technology seemed like things were on the upswing, but as information technology got closer, I became concerned nosotros wouldn't be able to do this. We had that 10-yr anniversary taken away from us, and that was tough, and so to be able to bring this back was beautiful. It brought a lot of joy to people." she said. "I didn't really mention this to anyone in omnipresence or to the wrestlers, just you lot never know. This could have been the last Hoodslam that e'er was."

The longtime wrestler sounds conflicted equally she describes how the promotion aspect of her chore has become a claiming. She as well has a desire to further her solo career every bit the Night Sheik. Simply at the aforementioned time, Hoodslam's most contempo bear witness has "lit up a burn down" in her.

"Seeing all of my friends, and seeing how happy anybody was, made me remember how special this is," she said. "Wrestling has been so many things for me — a provider, a comfort, a place where I feel well-nigh live, other than interacting with people I'g shut to. As soon as I'm in the ring, I'm habitation. I feel perfectly at peace. I don't want that to terminate."