Hello and welcome to the CRS podcast. In this episode, a fan of professional wrestling accidentally signs up for a wrestling class after clicking on an online ad. With no prior experience, he gets thrown into his first match where he miraculously wins by sheer luck pinning his opponent after an accidental move. He's then invited to participate in a local amateur wrestling event against a professional wrestler. So this is one of those stories that you just can't make up
and I have no idea how it happened, but it did. Buckle up because this is a wild ride. It all started on a lazy Sunday afternoon when I was scrolling through Instagram like a champion of procrastination. I was aimlessly scrolling, double tapping pictures of puppies and food because that's what people do when I stumbled upon an ad. It wasn't one of those by this thing, no Wurrile Bemasingout ads. No, this one caught my eye because it was something far more mysterious.
Want to try professional wrestling? Sign up today. Now before you call me crazy, which you should, I've always been a huge fan of wrestling. Like I've watched every WWE pay preview for the last 10 years, so I'm basically an expert at fake fighting. I thought, why not? It'll be fun to see if I can actually do a suplex. So in my infinite wisdom, I clicked the ad. The page was all flashy. Lots of bold text like become a wrestling legend and live while you are the
RMS. It didn't seem too legit, but it had an online form and that was enough to convince me to sign up. I quickly filled out my details, which included my name, age, and a bizarre question about my finishing move. I wrote down the spaghetti slam because why not? Then came the payment section. It was $50 for a beginner's wrestling session. Seemed reasonable, so I clicked pay now. Didn't think much about it for the next few days until I received an email confirmation with the subject
line. Your book for your first wrestling match. My first thought was cool. They're giving me an actual match to wrestle in after a single session. That's confidence in my skills. But the email also said to wear athletic gear and bring a mouth guard. Now I started to get a little worried. Arrived at the wrestling gym, which looked like a mix between a warehouse and a basement. There were no windows, just a ring in the middle surrounded by sweaty dudes and women in tights. The smell?
Oh, it was like a locker room mixed with regret. My stomach did a flip and I began questioning my life choices. The instructor, a guy who looked like he'd been body slamming people since he was born, saw me walk in and shouted, you the newbie, we got a full roster today. Get in the ring, kid. Before I could process what was happening, I was handed a pair of neon green wrestling shorts and shoved into the ring. I was about to face my first match. Here's the thing. I had no idea
what I was doing. I thought I would learn some moves, but nope. They just threw me in there with another guy who was probably a local hero and we were supposed to fight in front of an audience of six other trainees. He was twice my size, had the body of a Greek god and looked like he was made of pure muscle. Meanwhile, I was wearing bright green shorts and praying that I didn't poop myself out of fear. The bell rang. The guy immediately body slammed me to the mat and I felt every single
muscle in my body scream for mercy. I managed to get up with some help from the ropes and through what I thought was a punch. It was more of a gentle tap. He looked at me, confused, and then launched me into the corner. My neck snapped back and I started to see stars. It wasn't fun anymore, but then something miraculous happened in the chaos. I tripped over my own feet and fell into a perfect position. Without thinking, I wrapped my legs around his neck and started rolling. Next thing
I knew, I was pinning him down and the ref counted one, two, three, one. I have no idea how. It was like the universe decided I needed an ego boost for doing something so absurd. To this day, I have no idea if I accidentally stumbled into being a wrestling champion or if the whole thing was a joke, but I walked out of that ring with my head held high. I signed up for a beginners class, but my body is still recovering. So if you ever get an ad saying, want to try professional wrestling, maybe
think twice. But if you do sign up, at least have a finishing move in mind. The spaghetti slam lives on. After my completely accidental victory in the ring, I figured, hey, maybe I'm a natural at this whole wrestling thing. But as I limped out of the gym, I realized my victory was less about skill and more about the universe laughing at me while giving me an outlandishly lucky break. I had absolutely no
idea how to replicate what just happened. Got home, threw myself on the couch, and immediately went on YouTube to look up wrestling 101. The next few days were a blur of me practicing moves in my living room. I tried to do a suplex by lifting a pillow, but it kept getting stuck on my ceiling fan. I also tried a body slam with my laundry basket, but it turned out that body slamming laundry is far
less glamorous than it looks on TV. My neighbors were probably concerned about the weird noises they kept hearing, like someone was being thrown into walls, followed by my desperate shouts of, yeah, I'm the champ. Week later, I got another email from the wrestling gym. The subject line read, are you ready for the big leagues? I stared at it for a moment, half expecting it to be some elaborate prank. But no, it was legit. The gym was inviting me to a local amateur wrestling event.
Apparently, they were running a rookie night where beginners like me would face off in front of a small crowd. The catch, it was happening in two days. In The Real Kicker, I was booked against the destroyer, an actual pro wrestler who'd been in the game for over a decade. Now, I had two options. I could back out and live with the humiliation of being an internet troll who tried to wrestle, or I could show up and become the biggest joke in local wrestling history. I chose the latter,
because who doesn't love a good train wreck? Spent the next 48 hours preparing the only way I knew how by rewatching every wrestling match I'd ever seen and then calling my mom to tell her I might not make it out of the ring alive. She said, don't get yourself hurt, which was, of course, the most parental advice I could have gotten. The big night arrived. The wrestling venue looked like a high school gymnasium, except it was filled with people who were way too excited to see two
strangers throw each other around. I arrived, and the moment I stepped into the backstage area, I realized I had no idea what I was doing. The destroyer was already there, a literal mountain of a man stretching like it was just another day at the office. He looked at me and said, kid, just try not to get yourself killed out there. Great advice. Thanks, man. Was given some last minute advice by the coach who seemed to take me a little too seriously. If you're going to win,
kid, you got to sell the moves, he said. I was like, sell the moves? I'm just trying to survive out there. But I nodded and pretended like I understood what he meant. Finally, it was my turn. The crowd went wild as the announcer introduced me as the spaghetti slammer. Apparently, my finishing move had already gained a reputation, and I was too embarrassed to tell them it was just something I made up on the spot. When the bell rang, I did what any person who has zero clue what they're
doing would do. I immediately ran at the destroyer like a man possessed. Here's where it gets funny. I don't remember much after that. There was a lot of flying through the air, being thrown into the ropes, and an overwhelming sense of, oh, God, I'm going to die. Somehow, in the chaos, I managed to trip the destroyer unintentionally and put him in a headlock. This caused the crowd to go wild, which only made me panic more because I had absolutely no idea how to make it look like I
was doing anything on purpose. Then, by some stroke of sheer luck, I did the most graceful accidental move I could have possibly done. I jumped off the ropes, twisted in midair, and landed on top of the destroyer. The crowd went wild, and the referee counted one, two, three, had just beaten the professional wrestler. I couldn't believe it. I stood there, completely stunned as the referee raised my hand in victory. As I left the ring, the real champion, the destroyer,
gave me a pat on the back and said, you did good, kid. You got heart. I don't know if he was being sarcastic or if he was actually impressed by my accidental luck, but I'll take it. As it turns out, I'm now a local legend in the wrestling community. They invited me back for more matches, and I'm seriously considering it. But maybe next time I'll try to learn something about wrestling before I end up on the ground again, praying that I don't get hurt. Until then, I'll keep
practicing my spaghetti slam. And who knows? Maybe one day, I'll actually make it look intentional.