Professional wrestling has a rich and vibrant history in the East Bay, evolving from its early roots to the rise of unique and inclusive local promotions. From the pioneering spirit of Roy Shire to the modern spectacle of Hoodslam, the region has fostered a diverse and passionate wrestling community.
The story of East Bay pro wrestling is one of innovation, community, and a deep love for the spectacle of the sport. Let's delve into some of the key figures and promotions that have shaped the landscape.
Early Days and the Influence of Roy Shire
Important promoter names really blossomed in 1935 with Joe Malcewicz - a former hooker/wrestler nicknamed “The Utica Panther” - running primarily in San Francisco. Then Roy Shire moved west and aggressively pushed Malcewicz out, taking over in December 1960 with weekly television well before Shire ran his first card. His last event was also his last annual 18-man battle royal in January 1982. On my TV show in 1990, Shire said that he knew that both Verne Gagne’s AWA and Vince McMahon Jr.’s WWF were coming to Oakland and San Francisco “to pick my bones once I retired.” Shire was Kirk’s idol.
“Professor” Roy had learned much in Jim Barnett’s Indiana circuit as well as in Ohio and even working for Malcewicz in the mid 1950s. He quickly took over what he called “Gentle Joe’s territory,” predominantly with his television mastery amidst exciting shows. Malcewicz was vulnerable at that point. There was initial uproar like from NWA President Sam Muchnick over this “outlaw promotional takeover.” But Shire and his Big Time Wrestling promotion eventually joined the NWA on August 8, 1968, and Shire even served as NWA Vice-President in the early 1970s.
California wrestling changed massively once Shire retired in early 1981 and Mike Lebell, who ran Southern California territory, sold his circuit to Vince McMahon Jr in December 1982. Two legends gone.
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Farmer and former fellow Shire workers, like Alexis Smirnoff and Jerry Monti, tried promoting individually here but wouldn’t work together to improve their houses. Kirk and I were at most of their shows, helping those promoters, and he’d help me with my ringside camera equipment too. Kirk often asked why those veteran wrestlers “wouldn’t just work together, combine talent so they can stay in business.” Kirk was impressed that at least Monti held a “sold” show drawing 1,121 at the Vallejo County Fairgrounds where fans who paid to get into the overall county fair got to see wrestling for free. But Monti’s next house show at a VFW hall drew poorly.
Kirk came up to me during intermission at one of Shire’s shows at the Cow Palace, asking if I could sell him some of the photos I had taken at the shows, top names like Ray Stevens, Pat Patterson, Prince Peter Maivia (not yet a High Chief), Pepper Martin, Pepper Gomez, Rocky Johnson. At this point, I was listed as “the official photographer” for BTW’s Action Wrestling Magazine, and I had articles and photos in newsstand magazines like Norm Kietzer’s many titles, as well as Wrestling Guide, Big Book Of Wrestling, and more.
The Rise of Big Time Wrestling (BTW) and Kirk White
Fast forward, and WWF beats AWA in the battle for Northern California but then only comes to the area a few times a year. It left spots for an aggressive independent promoter like Kirk would become, to exist and eventually thrive.
It wasn’t until Roland Alexander’s APW began in 1993 that NorCal had a wrestling resurgence. Armed with his own young up-and-coming APW trained talent like Mike Modest, Donovan Morgan, San Francisco State amateur champ Tony Jones, Mike Lockwood (later Crash Holly), Alexander raised the bar for what Bay Area home-grown wrestling shows could be like.
A devoted fan of Roy’s mystique, Kirk said he “always wanted to follow in Roy’s shoes.” It started with the periodic signings, and then came Kirk’s cable access show in Newark (just north of San Jose). About two years about APW began, Kirk finally started promoting shows himself, capitalizing on their area buzz; he called his promotion “Big Time Wrestling” in tribute to Shire’s promotion.
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He’d soon find the answer to his own question about local promoters not working together. “I don’t want to answer to anyone else. Just to myself, whether I flop or do great,” Kirk said.
Farmer once again was key, actually ceding his weekly cable access TV slot at the tiny Newark United Artist Cable station to White and his BTW. Farmer had grander plans, and had just signed a deal with Comcast to produce a nationally-aired weekly Bay Area cable TV show in a much larger location in nearby Fremont; “The Great” Mae Young trained his talent and helping with the book. Woody’s son, Rex, wrestled as Hawkeye Shane Cody and he worked some of Kirk’s earliest shows, right through the last ones.
With APW in competition, Kirk revamped his shows, and wanted to bring in additional talent. I hooked him up with names like Japan’s JWP touring star Reggie Bennett and her own student Jessica “Black Ice” Sato. They had outstanding TV matches, helping draw SRO crowds for the free tapings. Newark is a small, blue collar town just north of San Jose and south of Oakland, part of a large conglomerate of cities called The East Bay. The location suited Kirk, who became immersed in the local pro sports scene - the NFL’s Oakland Raiders, baseball’s Oakland A’s, and the NBA’s Golden State Warriors - through his store. After his signings began drawing consistent crowds, Kirk said, “It’s time to promote a real card that people pay money to come see.”
Outside of the Farmers, Kirk’s other key figure was his longtime lead heel “Irresistible” Jason Styles, who served as BTW champion and head trainer at Kirk’s wrestling school. Styles usually wrestled the name fly-in talent like Kamala, Tito Santana and Jay Lethal in the main events. The biggest name to come out of their school was WWE’s Bayley, who began wrestling as Davina Rose. When White and Styles had a falling out years later, BTW wrestler L’Empereur (originally from the touring Incredibly Strange Wrestling group) reportedly took over for Styles in training BTW talent and overseeing booking. Allan Bolte was BTW’s announcer and commentator, and he had ties to Incredibly Strange Wrestling as well. There were times when Allen couldn’t be there, and Kirk’s friend Jim Davis handled the ring announcing.
Styles was hardly the only one to have a falling out with White. To me, Kirk was complex and he put a lot of pressure on himself and others, and that sometimes meant yelling at volunteer BTW staff and even some of the talent (though not the big names). Kirk would blow it off saying, “it’s just like Shire,” as Shire also had a temper and many wrestlers refusing to work with him. (Great Mephisto / Frankie Cain one slapped Shire in front of the boys and quit the territory).
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Bolte was not immune. Every so often, Kirk wanted a new announcing voice, but didn’t tell Bolte in advance. He’d briefly try Ron Hed, Jeff “JR” Benson and others, only to apologize and bring Bolte back. On one occasion, Kirk posted to social media that was trying out a new female announcer, starting that evening. Bolte later told me, “it broke my heart again, but she didn’t last long and I was back quickly after an apology.”
Back to paying more tribute to his hero, Kirk also bought several items from Shire’s estate, including the trophy Roy presented each January to his annual 18-man battle royal winners. From then on, whenever Kirk had a battle royal, he’d hand the winner Roy’s famous cup, and, then immediately take it back once they got backstage. Shire did that too.
In the early 2000s, Kirk hit his stride with Big Time Wrestling. He’d usually promote every few months on a Friday or Saturday first in Fremont, California- starting out at Stevenson High School until discovering a “crown jewel” in the Newark Pavilion, which was like a rec-center with several built-in concession areas and a bar. Later he’d add a secondary show hours away the next night, like in Eureka.
It’s important to note that APW and BTW overlapped as APW’s Hayward, California, headquarters was right next door to BTW’s Fremont/Newark California homebase. Plus Kirk often used APW talent to round out his BTW cards. But Alexander and White didn’t necessarily see pro wrestling or their promotions the same way. When Alexander sent in requested APW wrestlers, he’d often come study Kirk’s shows, taking notes on what worked, what didn’t. But the few times Kirk and Styles attended APW’s Gym Wars cards during two attempts at a BTW versus APW promotional feud, Kirk asked to cut his promos right at the start of the show. Then he’d immediately leave, dragging Styles with him, saying he had to go to an A’s or Warriors game. Alexander always felt White should’ve stayed to watch the episodic, carefully planned Gym Wars spectaculars. White in the 2000s really didn’t have the same approach as APW’s and for which APW was getting raves about being amongst the very first to stream its shows live. Both interpromotional feuds fizzled with Alexander blaming White for “not putting more effort into them, not sticking around and not being a student of the biz.” Kirk would say, “Hey, I tried.”
Starting in 2001, APW’s King of the Indies two-day tournament raised the bar and got global attention. Kirk changed his approach, and starting by flying in more than just a single big name for his BTW shows. As well, a third Bay Area group was making waves, Pro Wrestling Iron, which was formed by most of APW’s talent leaving with leaders Mike Modest, Donovan Morgan, Frank Murdoch and Bison Mark Smith. It truly was an APW “civil war” dispute over the news that “outsider” - American Dragon Bryan Danielson - would take over as head APW trainer, as announced by Alexander at King of the Indies, replacing Modest and Morgan. PWIron also took the valuable talent-trading link with Misawa’s NOAH Japan promotion. Gabe Ramirez’ Pro Wrestling Revolution came later after Ramirez and wrestlers/trainers like Robert Thompson also left APW to form the lucha-based promotion plus their own lucha-and-more school.
BTW’s shows had Styles and Farmer on the upper card, and Styles’ trainees like Wild Storm and Davina Rose in the mix; the Ballard Twins were regulars too. Kirk himself would often do the in-ring interviews with some of the big names he’d flown in - and he started to enjoy the spotlight, even if it was a little disrespectful to Bolte, who had done them for years. Kirk told me he thought he did his best mike work interviewing former APW trainee/star Matt Hyson (later ECW’s Spike Dudley) and his opponent Justin Credible before their fan fest main event.
With a strong history of great signings, Kirk was able to bring in some real A-list talent to the Hayward Shopping Mall, including Matt and Jeff Hardy, Lita, Mick Foley, Stone Cold Steve Austin and The Rock - and that was just in 2001. When TNA gained some momentum, Kirk brought in Samoa Joe, Frankie Kazarian, Christopher Daniels as Curry Man, Jay Lethal, Sabu, and even Scott Hall and Kevin Nash. Many years later, Impact Wrestling globally partnered with indies like BTW to load its talent on outside shows to air on its streaming network. Kirk began conducting his own in-ring interviews(like with frequent autograph signee Bret Hart). “Kirk did have nearly every major name in the business including Hogan come here,” Bolte told me.
Selling the autographs in the store was important. At a 1999 WWF house show in Davis, California, Kirk saw me going backstage and ran up trying to hand me 50 8x10s for Kurt Angle to sign. “I don’t know him. Ask him, he’ll do it for you,” he pleaded. I refused as he needed to properly approach and pay Angle himself. I stood up to him, he backed down and that happened probably because he was now more monetarily-concerned with heightened talent fees which he admitted often stressed him out.
The fly-in talent loved Kirk because he’d often take them to local baseball, football or basketball games. Kirk told me he usually got the tickets comped at his store but paid for everyone’s food and beverages there.
Through the many signings he set up, Kirk became close to Bret Hart, and ended up acting as the Hitman’s de facto West Coast agent plus others like Harry Smith. When news of Kirk’s death broke, Harry tweeted out: “Very sad to hear about the passing of my former manager, agent and friend Kirk White. Kirk also managed managed my uncle Bret Hart for many years. Kirk first brought me to his company BTW in 2005 in the Bay Area, I was his Heavyweight Champion at one point even as a teenager still, and Kirk really gave me lots of opportunities and branched me out first then in the USA. I got to make a lot of friends and have great memories there. Kirk always took great care of me, never steered me wrong and was always in good hands with him. He used to take me to my favorite Greek diner in Newark CA also … R.I.P Kirk. Thanks for everything.”
With his all-day fan fests growing in popularity, Kirk nagged me and others routinely for more name contacts like ODB, Gail Kim, Gangrel, Rob Van Dam and more before he was able to contact WWE and Impact directly. Talent had to be paid for both the signing and then at the BTW show. As well, Kurk showed his good side, accommodating local legends that I arranged to get to his fests like Pepper Gomez, Kinji Shibuya, Mitsu Arakawa, the original Paul Diamond and Ann Calvello from roller derby fame, who was my TV show cohost. Kirk often attended my tapings, thrilled meeting his childhood heroes. At his fests, he’d tell them all he could do was...
Kirk White died on December 24, 2021; He’s survived by his saint of a wife, Laurie, and their daughter Taylor.
Kirk was a complex person, and difficult to be friends with in his later years, something I have heard from people far closer to him than I was. But there’s no denying the success of his typically packed shows every few months, his signings, fanfests and influence.
Hoodslam: A New Era of Inclusive and Absurd Wrestling
In recent years, Hoodslam has emerged as a significant force in the East Bay wrestling scene. Created in 2010 by Sam Khandaghabadi (known professionally as Dark Sheik) as a regular gathering for wrestlers who wanted to perform edgier acts for adults, Hoodslam quickly became a popular attraction in the Bay Area, attracting over 1,000 attendees at each monthly show.
Hoodslam performances combine the athleticism and tropes of professional wrestling with more bizarre, absurd characters, as well as profanity, sexuality, and public consumption of alcohol and other drugs, which are not considered appropriate at mainstream professional wrestling events.
The gathering continued to be held bi-monthly until May 2011, when people who lived at the Victory Warehouse had parties that got out of control and blamed it on the wrestling. The eventual success of Hoodslam would lead to the creation of several spin-off brands from 2019 onwards, including the LGBT+ and women-orientated show Guilty Lethal Action Mayhem (GLAM)[6] and the cosplay-based Sexy Goodtime Wrestle Show.
As the show unfolds, the performers chant, "fuck the fans", which, according to O.J. Unlike other professional wrestling shows which play recorded music, Hoodslam frequently features a house band playing live music. Additionally, Hoodslam plays commentary for the matches over the house sound system.
In addition to referencing a diverse array of pop-culture characters (besides Ryu and Ken, characters that have featured in Hoodslam include Mortal Kombat's Sub Zero, Johnny "Drinko" Butabi (a reference to the 1998 film A Night at the Roxbury),[3] and Juiced Lee (Bruce Lee)), parodies of other professional wrestlers are frequent in Hoodslam.
Hoodslam has been seen as a highly accessible and inclusive pro wrestling company in California.
Hoodslam was founded by Sam Khandaghabadi, who had been wrestling since the age of 14. She called together other wrestlers she had met on the West Coast and convinced them to come to the Victory Warehouse in Oakland, a place where underground metal shows were regularly performed.
Defeated Mylo in Special Referee Match where the Special Referee was Mighty Mayra, at Hoodslam FTF Mountain.
Hoodslam Championships
| Championship | Description |
|---|---|
| The Champion Ship | Not represented by a traditional professional wrestling title belt, but by a literal ship (in a bottle). |
Oasis Pro Wrestling: Building a Community in Berkeley
At first glance it could be any of the dozen or so pro-wrestling promotions in the greater Bay Area, but a closer look reveals that Oasis is building a pro-wrestling practice contoured to Berkeley’s inclusive ethic. Juicy Finau leads an improv class for wrestlers at Oasis Pro Wrestling. “You have to be able to laugh at yourself,” Finau says.
“We believe everybody deserves an opportunity in pro wrestling, whether they make it to the top or want to be a weekend warrior,” said Finau, 28, who grew up in Southern California and has lived in Berkeley for the past two years. “When people come around here they say, man, you guys feel like a family. That’s what it should be.
Built on a macho code and pumped-up physiques that seem to depend on steroids, pro-wrestling presents itself as a realm defined by hyper-masculinity.
With time on her hands during the first year of the pandemic, Alice Vendetta first found her way to an Oakland promotion. Wrestling was “a life-long dream I’d never pursued,” she said. She met her future wife Dolly Mymes, who’s also her bandmate in the trans punk band Alice Vendetta and the Feminine Urge, at the Oakland promotion, and when they felt they’d learned everything there they could they found their way to Oasis. What’s kept them involved at Oasis is the wide-angle education.
“At Oasis they teach about how to negotiate performer fees,” Mymes said, noting that they’re competing in the Sacramento-area promotion Ultimate Riot Wrestling’s event Nov. “They meet you where you’re at, whether you want to be a wrestler or a ref or a commentator,” Vendetta said. “They’re not just teaching moves, but storytelling and character building and psychology. And they bring in a lot of different teachers. It’s the only place Jacob Fatu taught before he was called up to the WWE. They had El Mago, a famous luchador come in, and Tarzan Duran, a big name in the indie scene.
The fact that pro wrestling has found a home in Berkeley might come as a surprise to many people in the area. It’s easy to miss Oasis driving by on San Pablo, but the promotion has quickly integrated into the community. The dojo holds regular Lucha Libre StoryTime sessions at public libraries in Berkeley and other East Bay cities, and for the past two years Oasis has set up a ring on the eastern end of the Solano Stroll.
“King Gallo was the first student, and now he’s pretty popular,” Fan said with a note of pride. “We keep growing. We’ve never done three shows in three days in three different cities before. Gilman is where we do most of our shows, and it’s where our new storylines start developing.” Last season’s narratives concluded at Cornerstone Sept. 1 with Big Toko’s Kickback III, a long evening of bouts that culminated with Finau triumphing over Iosefa Parisi, Journey Fatu, Toa Liona and Zilla Fatu in an explosion of shattered fluorescent tube lights.
Attendance at the Labor Day Weekend event was lower than Oasis hoped for, but fans came in from all over the region. Juicy Finau and Journey Fatu bash each other bloody with fluorescent light tubes as the last men standing during the grand finale of Big Toko’s Kickback III, Oasis’s biggest event of the year.
Pro wrestling storylines are all about building characters and conflicts between villains, or heels, and good guys, or babyfaces. The physical training at Oasis is rigorous, but a sense of drama is an essential part of the pro wrestling tool kit. “We sit around that table and get to know the students and the characters they’re trying to portray,” Parisi said.
The tantalizing possibility that things may get out of hand is one of pro wrestling’s attractions. And then there are the elaborate costumes, good guys and bad guys, and taunts and boasts. It’s not hard to understand pro wrestling’s Saturday-morning-cartoon appeal. When he started talking with Gretchen Gadwood about starting a promotion, “my daughter was four and her daughter was seven, and my daughter still loves it,” Fan said. “What drew me back in was seeing how nice these guys are to kids. In the ring, they’re mean and aggressive, but after that they’re big, gentle bears.
Family is at the center of pro wrestling in the Bay Area, which has long been a proving ground for Pacific Islander stars. There were Polynesian stars in the NFL, “but with football players you can’t tell until they take their helmets off,” he said. “For a lot of Polynesian kids the wrestlers were people we looked up to, who looked like us, walked and talked like us, and that meant the world. In the culture we’re taught the only way to make it was through football or construction.
Finau played football in college for a while, and tried several other paths. He was working a security job in Arizona when he reached out to a wrestling promotion and started studying the craft. While working a security assignment in the Bay Area, he connected with a San Francisco promotion and made a spontaneous decision to stay.
“I learned about Pat Patterson and Good Time Wrestling at the Cow Palace and Rocky Johnson and all these smaller promotions during the territory days. I learned about the Wild Samoans and the big Samoan lineage that runs through the Bay Area. The Rock was born in Hayward!
Working at Oasis, Finau is opening up a new chapter in East Bay pro wrestling. “We’re proud to represent the Berkeley community,” Fan said. “There needs to be more family friendly outings. I mean, the A’s are leaving. We have the Oakland B’s, but pro wrestling is action up close. Kids cheer for the good guys and razz the bad guys.