Dying to Live

In a quiet, middle-class part of Yardley, Pennsylvania, is a blood-soaked canvas hidden by sprawling woods. This is where the Underground Wrestling Federation (UWF) hosts under-the-radar shows existing in a legal gray area. For several hours, a handful of young men voluntarily scar their bodies in sensational death matches - some dream of going pro but most are just trying to get by. The wrestlers call it dying, but the days spent in the ring are when they feel the most alive. “In a weird way, it’s our therapy. The physical pain helps with the mental shit. It helps keep me in line,” said twenty-two-year-old Mikey Anarchy, whose marred back has the texture of a braille dictionary. This photo series documents the final chapter of UWF.

They pull their punches, but the injuries are real. The line between violence and a controlled performance is thin and easily broken by accident or malice. What the fighters lack in training, they make up for in sheer brutality. In August 2023, there was a particularly severe injury. A young man named Todd caught the wrong side of a steel pizza pan, which cut into his head and caused internal bleeding. As we rode to the hospital, Todd repeatedly asked if the match was good - like a record on a loop. Browns, another wrestler in the car that day, reflected on that moment and said, “That’s all that matters to us at the end of the day... despite going to the hospital or almost dying. It’s art, and no one did it like us."

One of the main attractions of UWF for the wrestlers is the community. Their parents cheer from the stands, their young fans idolize them, and their partners share bloody kisses after a match. Mikey told me, “UWF's not just a fucking wrestling show, it's a brotherhood. There are days when I'd wake up and [ask myself], ‘Why the fuck do I even live anymore?’ I look at the flag right in front of my face - it's UWF."