Editor’s note: This story appears in the September-October 2024 edition of The Vicksburg Post’s Vicksburg Living magazine, which will be available Sept. 23.

Wess Warren remembers every second of his first professional wrestling match.

All 20 of them.

He came out from behind the curtain at The Hideaway nightclub in Jackson. Whatever nervousness or excitement he might have had for his in-ring debut were hidden behind a mask. Moments later he was heading right back the way he came.

“The very first time I actually got in a ring in front of paying fans, I was not Wess Warren. I was under a mask that looked awful,” he said with a chuckle. “I was in a battle royal for about 20 seconds. A guy named Rey Fury superkicks me right in the throat and throws me out. That was my first outing in a wrestling ring.”

Things are going a lot better for Warren these days. Seven years after that inauspicious debut, the 31-year-old Vicksburg native is a rising star on the southern independent wrestling scene. He’s been in main events and won championships while honing his craft and climbing the ladder of a demanding business.

“My dream is just to enjoy this. Keep riding until I get bored or can’t do it, make as much money as possible, and make as many memories as possible doing this,” Warren said. “It’s good to have goals, for sure, and I definitely have them. But I feel like putting them out there will distract. I like to work on my goals silently.”

THE OPENING BELL
Warren, whose real name is Erik Walters, was born in Vicksburg and moved to Greenwood when he was 12. Like a lot of other kids, he grew up watching pro wrestling legends like The Rock, “Stone Cold” Steve Austin and John Cena entertain millions of fans in the early 2000s.

“I grew up watching it, like you probably hear from a lot of people. My story’s not super unique. I just grew up a big fan of it. Probably started watching when I was 7 or 8 years old,” Warren said. “I really started to pick it up right around the time the Invasion angle hit, right around that late 2001, early 2002 period. One of my very first memories that’s stuck in my head is Hulk Hogan trying to run down The Rock in an 18-wheeler before their match.”

Warren was a self-described “late bloomer” in a lot of respects. He didn’t play sports until he moved to Greenwood — he was part of Pillow Academy’s MAIS Class AAA championship football team in 2010 — and wasn’t inspired to become a pro wrestler until a few years after graduation.

“I had spent about 2 1/2 years living in Tennessee, just goofing off. I moved back to Mississippi in 2016, and spent six months screwing around,” he said. “I decided one day that I really don’t want to go through life wondering what could have been. I felt like I’m young enough and have enough athleticism to where if I train in it enough I can be decent.”

In early 2017 Warren started making inquiries about finding a training school. Those led him toward a Mississippi-based promotion called Pro Wrestling Ego.

Warren went to one of their shows at The Hideaway and made some contacts. He trained in Houston at WWE Hall of Famer Booker T’s wrestling school, as well as with other indy veterans. It wasn’t long before he was making his masked debut, and a few months after that his unmasked debut.

“It was really cool. It was really fun. The venue they (Ego) were in was lit up and it seemed like a big deal. Two weeks later I started training. Seven years later, here I am,” he said.

ROAD WARRIORS
When most casual fans think of professional wrestling, the spectacle of major national promotions like World Wrestling Entertainment, All Elite Wrestling and TNA are what comes to mind. Those are just the top levels of a very large business, however.

All around the country, small regional promotions like Pro Wrestling Ego and Bayou Independent Wrestling put on weekly or monthly shows in small-town civic centers and high school gyms. It’s where young wrestlers cut their teeth, older ones grind out a living, and those in the middle make their name while waiting for a big break.

It’s not an easy life. Wrestlers on the indys, as they’re called, are independent contractors. They need to be self-promoters who market themselves, book dates, arrange travel, and still find time to train. Most have non-wrestling jobs during the week and wrestle on the weekend.

It’s a demanding grind on a number of levels. Physically, wrestlers need to be in excellent condition to work even a basic match.

Learning how to give and take bumps to make them less painful and lessen the risk of injury is a big part of wrestling school. A more important one is the value of cardio work.

A normal match that keeps fans engaged involves 10 to 15 minutes of near-constant, fast-paced movement. A main event might go 20 or 30 minutes. A wrestler who can’t last that long in the ring won’t last long in the business.

“If you want to make it at a high level, or even a middle-high level, you’re going to have to put some effort into it,” Warren said. “The cardio we have as wrestlers is top-notch. It’s one thing to run on the treadmill for 30 minutes, but to wrestle for 30 minutes is a whole other thing.”

Warren added that he’d done his research about the obvious physicality of pro wrestling but still wasn’t prepared for the reality of it.

“I knew it would be athletically challenging. I did my homework on what I was getting into. I feel like a lot of people don’t do that these days. I knew it was a physical thing that requires strength and conditioning to be good at it, so I had that mindset going into it,” he said. “But in terms of how hard or easy it would be, I had no idea. Turns out it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in terms of athleticism. I would put it up against any sport in the world.”

The demands outside the ring are intense as well, and are as mental as they are physical.

Besides managing the business side of their career, wrestlers often travel long distances between gigs. A wrestler might be booked on a show in Georgia on Friday night, Mississippi on Saturday and Louisiana on Sunday and has to drive to all three. Private planes are not in the budget on the independent scene.

To save money, groups of wrestlers will often carpool to shows and share hotel rooms but life on the road is still a grind when you’re tired and sore after a match. Warren said he tries to take a philosophical approach to it.

“I guess you just have to learn to enjoy driving. Literally, it’s part of the job. It’s your commute to work, essentially, except your commute might be three hours away — or 7, or 10 1/2, or 12 or 14,” Warren said. “If you can get past the travel, that shows you really want to do it. The travel will sometimes make or break somebody. If you like it enough you’ll do it.”

Figuring out where and when to travel to is part of the process. A long trip for a big payday or a quality opponent might be more valuable than a show closer to home.

“For me I weigh the options on is it worth me going to?” Warren said. “Am I going to get any benefit, whether it be good match experience, more exposure, am I going to get paid a lot? I factor in all that stuff before I take a booking.”

THE ART OF SELLING
In wrestling lingo, “selling” is the term used for showing the effects of an opponent’s move. In a more literal sense it’s the difference between a wrestler who makes it big and one who doesn’t.

Being able to pull off a flashy move or two is only half of what makes a wrestler popular. Crafting a ring persona that fans will buy tickets to cheer or boo is just as important.

Warren’s ring persona is an intense, angry wrestler with the nickname “Cold Blooded.” He’s often the villain when he’s on the card, matched up against a popular fan favorite who plays to the crowd. Warren said it’s an extension of his personality.

“I just take me and dial it up more,” Warren said. “The best thing you can do is just take your personality and ramp it up to 11. Be a bigger version of yourself.”

Part of that is choosing the right stage name. Some wrestlers use their real name, but Warren opted for a fake one that was a little more catchy.

“I needed something that rolled off the tongue. There’s a lot of marketing opportunities behind that,” he said. “I played with my real last name, Walters, and just started saying my name over and over again. One thing led to another and Warren popped up. And then playing with it, Wess came out of it. Wess Warren, that sounds kind of cool.”

After a few years in the business, Warren took his own advice and made his name bigger. He originally worked as Wes Warren, then added a second “S” to his first name when he returned from an injury-induced hiatus.

“I needed a whole new vibe and aesthetic, so I added the extra S. I don’t have any real good reason for it,” he said with a laugh.

Once they find a hook that connects with fans, another important ability is to turn it into a paying gimmick. Merchandise with a wrestler’s logo is both a good side hustle — most sell a variety of items in between matches during a show — and a way to promote themselves.

Making new fans creates a buzz. The buzz catches the eye of promoters. Promoters pay the wrestler to work at a show. The cycle repeats, hopefully with bigger venues, crowds and paydays as it builds and builds.

One sign of progress, Warren said, is when promoters pair him up with bigger stars. It typically means more exposure and a bigger spotlight that can help him reach the next level.

“I wrestled a guy from TNA a couple of weeks ago. That means something,” Warren said. “Over the last year or so I’m getting hit up for bookings more than I’ve reached out. That’s always a good thing.”

He’s also started winning championships. While the outcomes of pro wrestling matches are scripted, who wins and loses has plenty of meaning. When a wrestler wins a title, it’s a sign of trust and respect. A champion immediately becomes the face of the promotion and a top drawing act, so winning a belt is no small feat.

Warren is currently a champion in the Alabama-based Revolt Pro Wrestling and Diamond Championship Wrestling. He previously held the mid-card SEC Championship in Louisiana’s PW225 promotion and has recently been involved in championship feuds there and in Mississippi’s Lost Art of Wrestling promotion.

“It’s definitely a feather in your cap,” Warren said. “It shows those people have enough trust in you to represent them, essentially, whether it’s as a very main top guy or the mid-card guy or a tag team wrestler, you’re representing that company in some way if you have their belt.”

CLIMBING THE LADDER
At a recent show with Lost Art of Wrestling, Warren won a ladder match to win a championship opportunity. He smacked Fury — the wrestler who threw him out of the ring in his debut match seven years ago — with a chair, then climbed the ladder to snatch a briefcase that guarantees his title match.

Minus the chair shot, it was a good re-enactment of Warren’s rise in the wrestling business. He’s been steadily climbing the ladder of the indy scene for seven years and counting.

Warren has worked for nearly 20 promotions in a half-dozen states. At 31 years old, an age when most wrestlers are entering their prime, he’s making a name for himself and ready to break out.

“If you just keep your eyes peeled, something will happen,” he said. “Just keep watching.”

He said, however, that he’s trying not to think too far ahead. He’s trying to live in the moment and enjoy the ride, and said he’s always trying to find the exact right formula for success.

“I don’t think I ever had that thought in my head. I’m stubborn and I didn’t want to quit. I never had it in my head that I’ve got something here,” he said. “As soon as I started doing this I felt like I was confident in myself, for whatever reason, unless I just physically can’t do it.”