The Wrestling Room: A Tribute

Cole Smith, Staff Writer

No one ever wants to talk about it. When your parents ask about it, you scream and hold your ears. It’s gross. You could catch awful diseases. It has something to do with rolling around half naked with sweaty boys. You know what I’m talking about: the wrestling room. The perfect example of testosterone gone wrong. Today, we’ll dive into the who, what, where, when, why, and ew of the so-called Dungeon.

First off, what’s with all the massive wall stickers? The ones that say Beast Mode: ON and Hall Wrestling with the picture of that lumpy pale guy flexing in a leotard. No one needs stickers that big! Most people can’t afford a house in New York City as large as some of those stickers. 

Then, by the boy’s locker room, they have the board that always over-hypes anything that happens remotely related to wrestling. They once had a sign that said, “Only 4 more days until the Winter Warriors bleach the mats in THE DUNGEON!” That bulletin board is really impressive though, it’s kind of scary. They have a better decorator for that board than for homecoming and prom combined. There’s a delicate trim around the outside, countdowns for random stuff everywhere, the logo of the pale guy everywhere, and pictures of all of the wrestlers 3D popping out of the board. This is where all of the school’s budget goes, people. 

Sometimes, if you’re lucky enough, you can catch the wrestlers in action in their home base. Their main activities include hugging-practice while sweating a lot, lifting-your-leg-as-high-as-I-can practice while sweating a lot, running-headfirst-at-each-other practice while sweating a lot, and laughing-at-teammates-as-they watch them do these things while sweating a lot. However, you have to get there early to see this because the windows fog up like a Snoop Dogg concert within 15 minutes from the body heat. Or, avoid all of this and just go home and eat Doritos like a normal person.

Never been inside this magical place? You’re missing out! As you walk through the door, the fresh aromas of sweat, gallons of cleaning supplies and hormones mix together and create a symphony in your nostrils. The smell slowly floats into your nose and you think to yourself, “This isn’t too bad, I can get through a yoga class smelling this.” Halfway through your second downward dog, the second wave of scent hits you like a knife to the brain and you collapse on the floor. Then you realize that the floor probably has more germs than wherever 6ix9ine is right now and you leap up screaming for antibiotics. By this time, everyone else in your yoga class is staring at you but you don’t care. The walls begin to cave in and the world becomes wobbly. You hear a ghostly choir of exhausted moans from decades of wrestlers long gone and you can’t figure out what day it is or where you are. As you fall slowly into insanity, your last thoughts are wondering why they can’t just pick one shade of blue for the walls and what the point of the sketchy monkey bar ladder is. 

No matter your views on this room, it is a crucial part of Hall High School that needs to be preserved for many years to continue to house the 15 kids who wrestle instead of being converted into literally anything else. Please, if you want to donate to the preservation, go to and click on the picture of the malnourished boy in the spandex bodysuit. Thank you for your support.