Review: South Broadway Athletic Club in St. Louis

The exact moment you read this sentence, some relatively weird public event is going down in the STL. With the metro area being nearly 3 million people and 70 square miles, St. Louis is big enough that some people, rube to socialite, are paying to eat sushi off a naked lady or attend back-to-back Sammy Hagar concerts.

Similary, when on the town, it can be tiresome getting kicks slugging Scotch Rocks and trying to find Chingy in the karaoke binder at Johnny Gitto’s Restaurant, so amuse yourself by attending events out of the norm. Perhaps a lecture by a world-renowned architect or, perhaps something a little bit more lowbrow, something more fun. Face it, lowest-common-dominator entertainment (i.e. reality television, Lil John) rules for a reason. Don’t hesitate. Indulge.

The look …
At Seventh and Shenandoah in Soulard, the South Broadway Athletic Club is all St. Louis with a red brick facade backing a “South Broadway” neon sign.

During wrestling, the SBAC Ladies Auxiliary Club greets you at tables inside the door, politely requesting your entry fee and dollars for the raffle. Inside, the color brown tints the well-worn 550-seat hall: brown wooden floors, brown wood-paneled walls, brown tin ashtrays and brown, water-stained drop-ceiling tiles.

In the middle of the room, the ring is surrounded by concentric circles of safety fence, then folding chairs and folding tables. On one side of the ring is the media table with the event’s TV and live announcers, as well as about a half dozen running video cameras. Fans of World Wide Magazine will recognize some of the announcers. Behind the media table, a huge American flag hangs from the wall – about the only decoration in the entire hall.

In the club’s far end, in its own room, is the small bar that’s straight off the corner of a south St. Louis intersection. Wait, we are at the corner of a south St. Louis intersection. In the opposite end, Lunch Lady Doris slings burgers behind a cafeteria steam table.

The scene …
Once a month, Mid Missouri Wrestling Alliance-Southern Illinois Championship Wrestling takes over the hall for what can only be described as lowbrow, lowest-common-denominator fun.

The first of the night’s 10 bouts begins tardily at 8 p.m.; the last ends at 11 p.m., with an intermission splitting the card. Arrive early if you want a seat. Ninety percent of the tables and chairs are marked with signs like “Saved for Kim C.”

Some patrons attend only for the wrestling, some cooler-than-you patrons for irony, some for the fun of loudly yelling whatever they want. Some are SBAC members, some are SBAC neighbors and some are, well, hoosiers. Ironic fan and genuine fan wonder how the other can actually attend SBAC wrestling. Males outnumber the females who haven’t brought their kids.

While MMWA-SICW is a professional circuit, it’s not so polished that the wrestlers quit their day jobs. Still, they take entertaining the crowd seriously. The Amish Warrior wears a felt flattop hat and has a mustache-less beard. Lacey and Xtreme Kim Chi represent the fairer sex, but come with ultra-tough attitudes. Über-minor local celebrity Gorgeous Gary Jackson offers the most polished mic time goading his opponents.

The wrestlers can hear everything yelled, so if you’re witty enough, you’ll not only get a laugh from the crowd but an in-character response from the wrestler.

Wear anything from turtlenecks to “Do I look like a f***ing people person?” T-shirts. Some wear U.S. Navy ball caps. Some wear hair longer than Tony LaRussa. Some patrons have tattoos on their shaved skulls. Don’t be shocked if the Kool-Aid man crashes through a wall. All in all, wear whatever you want.

The products …
If you’ve been to a little league baseball game, you’ll be familiar with the fare. All food is prepared on-site by the SBAC Ladies Auxiliary Club. Nothing except a pitcher of beer is more than $3.

Popcorn, $1. Nachos, $1.50. Fries, $1. Soda, 75 cents. Lunch Lady Doris’ hamburgers, $1.50 (25 cents for cheese). Fish sandwiches, $2.50. Chili, $1.50 ($2 with a tamale). Hot dogs, $1.50.

The bar only serves AB products, $2 a plastic cup or $8 a pitcher. SBAC can’t have you throwing bottles when The Exterminator tells you your hat looks like a diaper. Highballs are $3. They have all the liquor a South City bar should. Only smoke wherever you want, please.

The straight 411 …
For an out-of-the-norm, lowbrow, banging good time, come hang with the folk at SBAC wrestling. Yell whatever you want.