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The USWO’s weekly matches have turned the Stadium Inn into a kind of buzzing speakeasy — an attraction spreading like a secret handshake among sensation-hungry hipsters on both sides of the river. Every weekend, a cast of working-stiff gladiators plays to a growing audience made up of gawkers, die-hard wrestling aficionados, and low-income families looking for cheap entertainment.
Some voyeurs are there just to point and laugh, sure. But when people buy into the spectacle, when the low-budget circus the Falks have built pays off in uproar — well, those moments are more fulfilling than the plays that bring tens of thousands of Titans fans to their feet within eyesight of the Stadium Inn every fall.
Traversing the gauntlet of urban decay that is the Stadium Inn’s lobby does not rank high on most Nashvillians’ bucket lists. The immediate greeting at the front desk — a makeshift sign reading: “No drug dealers or prostitutes allowed” — translates more as a disclaimer than a warning. Nearby, listless loiterers pump change into decades-old vending machines.

See the full article from “Nashville Scene”