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'Rasslers' ready to rumble

A coach is training wrestler wannabes for the Cuban Club's new Thursday night shows.

By ALEXANDRA ZAYAS
Published August 18, 2006

[Times photos: Melissa Lyttle]

“You have to sell it,” says coach Steve Favata, as he pins wrestler Kris Kozlowski. “Really make them believe the pain is real.”

	Thom Creuz works on his caveman persona for a new Thursday night wrestling show at the Cuban Club in Ybor City.
	[Times video: Jon O'Neil]
	Watch the wrestlers in action:
	Go to video

YBOR CITY - Thom Creuz has stringy long hair and a scraggly beard, but his looks won't be enough to rock the ring on Thursday, when weekly wrestling matches hit the Cuban Club.

To become Caveman Dingo - a Neanderthal with anger management issues - he needs the moves, his coach tells him.

"If you're doing the caveman thing, Thom, stalk around like a caveman," Steve Favata calls from outside the ring at Gold's Gym in Brandon, where he coaches wrestling school for World Wrestling Entertainment WWE hopefuls and rehabilitates professional wrestlers.

Creuz stomps around his opponent, Kris Kozlowski, fists clenched like a gorilla.

Not good enough. Favata jumps into the ring and shows Creuz how it's done.

The young coach looks at Kozlowski with wild eyes and grabs him by the throat. With a punch on the head, Kozlowski goes down. Then, Favata perches himself on top of the ropes and - splat!

"You all right, man?" Favata asks Kozlowski after he pounces on top of his head.

Then, he turns to Creuz and explains the importance of playing to the audience. "You want to be big. You want to be larger than life."

Cuban Club director Michael Gonzalez came up with the idea of hosting wrestling matches at the club to re-create the Tuesday night matches at the old Fort Homer Hesterly Armory on Howard Avenue, which is empty, awaiting redevelopment.

"The environment and the ambience - it's so traditional," Gonzalez said. The Cuban Club started hosting professional boxing in 1904, he said.

So Gonzalez pitched the idea to Favata, whose wrestlers are always looking for matches to gain exposure. The plan was born: two hours of wrestling, all the beer you can drink, and all the antics and action of a pro wrestling show at a slice of the cost. Favata said he hopes 300 people will attend each week.

"It's going to be crazy," Gonzalez said.

But before opening night, Favata and his 30 wrestlers have a lot of training to do. Many of them have day jobs. The wrestlers juggle outside responsibilities, independent performances and three nights per week of practice in the hopes that they'll get noticed and advance to the pros.

It takes more than colorful costumes and campy characters to make a good show. It takes coordination.

"A lot of people I run into think wrestling is very meat-headish. They think they moan and grunt all the time," Favata said. "You're telling a story without words. It's a dance."

The story lines have carefully crafted plots that pit the "babyface" (the good guy) against the "heel" (the bad guy). The key is not to let the good guy win right away but to whet the audience's appetite for justice. Even coming up from a slam-down requires choreography.

"Push against him," Favata called to wrestler Juan Churruca. "He's going to push against you. You're going to work synergistically to get up."

Everyone knows wrestling isn't real, Favata said. The illusion was lost long ago. But it's a wrestler's job to make the audience suspend disbelief, even for a second, to think, "Man, they're really beating each other up," he said.

Facial features are key. Writhing and grunting are part of practice. And though the winner is usually predetermined, the pain is real.

Smack.

Favata hit Creuz in the back with a folding chair.

"See?" Favata demonstrated. "He's really hurting right now."

So, why do they do it?

"There's a screw loose with people who want to wrestle for some reason," Favata said.

For Churruca, 17, wrestling allows him more freedom than he gets competing with his team at Plant High School.

"You can't punch people in the face or kick them," Churruca joked.

He's serious about becoming a pro wrestler.

"My mom doesn't like it so much, but my dad is, like, my biggest fan," Churruca said. "Moms just don't get it."

For coach Favata, who is studying business administration at the University of South Florida, wrestling was a childhood dream.

"It was like a live movie right in front of you, with the plot twists and action live," Favata said.

He saw a chance to become superhuman.

"Nobody wants to be a normal human being. Wrestling is a lot like being a rock star," he said. "You're Metallica. Guns N' Roses. Pantera. All the attention is on you."

Alexandra Zayas can be reached at 226-3354 or azayas@sptimes.com

IF YOU GO

Thursday night wrestling at the Cuban Club, 2010 Avenida Republica de Cuba in Ybor City, opens this week, from 8 to 10 p.m. Tickets are $10 for adults and $5 for children. All-you-can-drink beer tickets are $10. For more information, call the Cuban Club at 248-2954.

[Last modified August 17, 2006, 10:49:22]