Recession Meets Wrestling

Danielle Dreilinger: First, the ref disarmed wrestler "Psycho" of his hula hoop.

The other Chaotic Wrestling fighters wore Lycra shorts and knee pads. Psycho, a reported 192 pounds and 5 feet 10 – plus a few inches of hot-pink hair – wore a straitjacket under a yellow singlet stamped with a happy face. The ref patted him down and found gadget after gadget, plus a slice of pizza. Psycho ate it.

He wasn't set up for victory against 340-pound Brian Milonas. But when the big guy socked his head into a post, Psycho just laughed. Milonas won. The crowd booed. A fan shook her head, saying, "This is not a fair match."

It was a Saturday night in Lawrence at the Plains Community Center. Chaotic Wrestling Inc., a promoter that operates out of North Andover, had set up its ring in a basketball court with water-damage-streaked walls. About 90 people, mostly kids and families, drank cans of Market Basket soda and cheered for Psycho.

With that kind of passion and that little money, low-level professional wrestling has held up relatively well in the recession.