The Gym Wars, a monthly event showcasing All Pro Wrestling’s (APW) top students’ skills in front of a live audience, continue after a young ring announcer introduces the next fight; the lights momentarily go down and the fog machine billows out the main ingredient for awe. Suddenly a hulking behemoth emerges from the mist, sporting leopard print tights with long, dripping-wet hair, and a huge chain that hangs from his fist. With the overpowering scent of baby oil in the air, the “Brazilian Beast” Kafu makes his way to the ring, flanked by his manager Roland Alexander; they razz the contemptuous audience along their way to the ring. With an imposing gaze, Kafu’s mysterious background allows him to talk trash only in his native Portuguese tongue, as a fan sneers at the giant, only to flinch when Kafu yells back.

He’s scheduled for a championship bout tonight, but for now, Kafu’s attention is on an intrepid reporter, as he rips the notebook and pen out of his hands, looks at them as foreign objects, makes a few scribbles and throws them down to the floor. The main event is scheduled for 15 minutes, but the towering giant spends just as much time on the audience. Although the fight is yet to begin, you can’t imagine how hard Kafu has trained. And if you’re committed, you too can earn your own pair of tights and patent-leather boots.

Alexander, 53, runs APW from Hayward. His background in wrestling runs deep, even as far as babysitting a little snot-nose that would one day be known as The Rock. Although he couldn’t be a wrestler himself, Alexander still wanted to be part of his passion.

“I was too lazy, I didn’t have the genetics, and I didn’t want to take steroids,” says Alexander.

Known as a small independent wrestling circuit, APW also serves as one of the most well known pro wrestling training schools in the nation. The success of Alexander’s APW Boot Camp includes a list of graduates that feature notable pros such as Spike Dudley and Crash Holley, and recent stars such as Gunner Scott and The Great Kali. If you dream about being thrown from the ropes and getting dropkicked in front of a large audience, make no mistake, APW can make those dreams come true, just understand that it’s not going to be easy as you think.

“The competition is fake, the physicality is real,” says APW trainer Dana Lee.

This goes for everyone who believes in the old adage that wrestling is fake, and it’s hard not to think so. Since the 1980’s, pro wrestling has emphasized entertainment over sport, with over-the-top characters, heated rivalries, plot twists, and storylines as rivaled as the flannel-wearing audiences themselves. Unfortunately, the theatricality has undermined the stark reality behind all the masks and face paint.

The 1999 documentary film (i)Beyond the Mat(i) broke down many perceived myths of pro wrestling, viewing legendary wrestlers like Jake “The Snake” Roberts and Mankind as human as anyone else. The film succeeded in fleshing out the lives of wrestlers, marked with unsuccessful job tryouts, suffering through physical pain inflicted throughout their careers, and dealing with concerned - and sometimes dysfunctional - families.

The film also featured Roland Alexander’s APW Boot Camp. Tucked away in a vast section of Hayward’s industrial warehouses, Roland and his trainers offer the willing a squared circle to hone their skills, and a hard dose of reality.

“Many people think that just because the competition is fixed, everything about pro wrestling is fake,” says Lee. “That’s just not true. The pain is real, the blood is real. We even cut ourselves to bleed more. The more blood, the better.”

Days after the Gym Wars, the show ring turns back into a gym. Lee puts beginner students through rigorous training routines, each of which instill fundamentals that make better wrestlers. Breaking into small groups, the students run through a gamut of exhausting exercises where they leapfrog over each other, run and bounce off ropes, and repeatedly take hard falls flat on their back. They are then taught correct methods of executing moves and practice on each other until Lee feels they can execute the moves properly. Because of the nature of the regimented training, students must be in peak cardiovascular condition and be aware of their nutrition.

“It’s more than what I expected,” says APW graduate Victor Cerone, 30, in English, otherwise known as Kafu the Brazilian Beast. “It’s a lot of bruises, hard work, and cardio. Two good minutes in a match can feel like half an hour on a treadmill.”

Many may wonder why so much work is involved in something that seems so fantastic. Although the action is choreographed, moves must be executed perfectly, to ensure that both wrestlers don’t get hurt more than they should, and that the action looks convincing to the crowd. Students must learn even the smallest nuances, such as getting thrown out of the ring. If a wrestler is grabbed by the head, his body goes over the ropes, whereas if they are grabbed by the body, they go through the ropes. Regardless, fundamentals may not matter to someone’s career if they have “it.” Alexander describes “it” as everything under the sun except actual ability.

“John Cena’s got ‘it’,” says Alexander. “He’s got the look, he’s got the gift of gab, and he can rap. But he has no in-ring ability. He’s not an athlete.”

Unfortunately, major promotions such as WWE tend to consider the “it” factor much more than the actual physical ability of a wrestler. Charismatic personas like Hulk Hogan, The Rock, and John Cena have been successful in crossing over to Hollywood and gaining more notoriety for WWE, making image and performance a bigger selling point than talent and athletic ability.

“WWE can take any two-cent wrestler and make him a star by giving him the look and the cosmetics,” says Lee. “They’ve got the money.”

Regardless of the trend, APW continues to push the fundamentals of wrestling, because not all students can possess “it.” Besides, in the end what matters is that the crowd cheers, whether it’s from a well executed Shooting Star Press, or just getting them to chant the word “horny” with smiles on their faces.

“When I come out of the curtain, I get to become a different person and I get the rush. I can make people love me. I can make people hate me,” says Cerone. “I love it.”