Brick Savage is not a monster. But in a wrestling ring, they play one to perfection. 

And if there’s one thing Brick Savage does better than playing the monster, it’s breaking the rules that try to contain them.

The first thing you notice about 36-year-old Savage is their size — a massive physique built from years of sports, particularly powerlifting. But Savage, who uses they/them pronouns, also radiates danger. Which, in professional wrestling, is a useful skill to have. Especially when you can throw your opponents around like rag dolls.

“I call my deal the ‘sociopathic powerhouse,’” Savage told The Barbed Wire.

It’s working. 

In less than three years, the Texas native has gone from wrestling novice to a full-time main-event performer who is already getting the most coveted prize: national attention. It’s very possible that Savage could soon be a household name.

Savage, the wrestling persona of Remi Hall, has taken the wrestling scene by storm with a blend of athleticism, menacing charisma, and tactical ring psychology. But Savage’s journey to professional wrestling was far from conventional, marked by early exposure to the wrestling world, a detour into powerlifting, and a meteoric rise in the squared circle after overcoming significant injuries. 

A Family Affair

Savage’s introduction to wrestling came early in life, thanks to their father, Bobby Hall (aka “Bobby 2 Badd”). 

“My dad was a wrestler in the late 90s, and I trained with him and (we’d) go to different shows all around Texas,” said Savage, who grew up in Harker Heights, a small city in Bell County. Between the ages of 10 and 13, Savage trained with their father and spent time at famed hardcore wrestler Necro Butcher’s facility in the military boomtown of Killeen. “Before the shows, I’d do some training,” they said. “I’d drive up with my dad to Dallas and different places to work out, train, and whatnot.”

However, wrestling would take a back seat as Savage entered high school. They focused on other sports like track and field, amateur wrestling, and football. In college, Savage was a “pretty good defensive tackle” at the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor.

The Road to Powerlifting

After college, Savage was drawn to powerlifting. There, they also found success. 

Savage’s powerlifting career was marked by impressive feats of strength and a willingness to push their body to the limit. At one event, Savage infamously performed a squat, bench press, and deadlift, totaling 2,005 pounds in just 33 seconds. “It takes people years to total 2,000 lbs. Years,” Savage said. 

And Savage showed an early flair for getting attention, challenging a deadlift record holder to an unusually grueling competition. It involved the two repeatedly deadlifting 600 pounds — until one quit, puked, or passed out. Savage won, completing 65 reps to their opponent’s 62. 

Savage remembered thinking, “I’ll pull it 100 times if I have to.” The two traded deadlifts for an hour and a half. When Savage’s opponent finally gave up, he had ripped the skin off his hands.

But the demands of powerlifting took a toll on Savage’s body. They suffered two major injuries: a patellar tendon rupture in their left knee and a rotator cuff tear in their left shoulder. “I had two major surgeries,” Savage said. “And I basically retired from (powerlifting) and was going to retire from doing any physical sports at all.”

Rekindling the Flame

After recovering from rotator cuff surgery in 2021, Savage thought their athletic career was over. “I was pretty much done,” they admitted. 

But a chance encounter at a powerlifting meet reignited their passion for wrestling. A friend, Rhonda Biggs, suggested Savage consider returning to the ring, but Savage was hesitant. “I was like, I don’t know. I don’t want to. I don’t think it’s for me,” they recalled.

Despite those reservations, the two spent hours talking about wrestling and Savage finally agreed to give it a shot. “So I asked (if) maybe I can go up there and just do a training day, see how it feels, whatever,” Savage said. “So I did.” 

In early 2022, Savage drove to Fort Worth for a training session at Texas Roughhouse, which is owned by another wrestler, Bull Prough, aka “The Manimal.”

It didn’t go well, at first. “It was pretty terrible to begin with,” Savage admitted. “I was super stiff. I was forgetting stuff and it wasn’t great.” But as the session progressed, Savage began to find a rhythm. “By the time the three hours had passed, everything started flowing a lot better. Everything was a little bit smoother. I was having a great time.”

Birth of the ‘Sociopathic Powerhouse’

Inspired, Savage decided during a long drive home to create a wrestling persona. They donned a black singlet, a cropped denim vest, wrist tape, eyeliner, and boots, and filmed a vignette that they shared with close friends. It was rebellious and iconoclastic; people loved it.

One friend, Damon McCullough, encouraged Savage. “Damon saw it and was like, ‘What the fuck is this?’ I was like, ‘Man, I don’t know. I think I’m going to give it a shot.’ It felt good,” Savage said.

Gradually, Savage’s character, the “sociopathic powerhouse,” took shape. 

In the ring, they’re a menacing and charismatic figure — drawing inspiration from movies and their own personality. Savage described their character as having “sociopathic tendencies” and a charisma that can be both alluring and threatening. “I have this uncanny ability to kind of reel people in,” Savage explained, “and create some kind of false sense of security and then just completely pull the wool over their eyes.” 

Diving Deep into Wrestling

Savage had their first match in March of 2022. Even though it was just a three-minute bout, “it was a blast,” Savage said. “I was like, after I had that deal, I’m gonna dig deep and do this.” They quickly became a fixture on the Texas independent wrestling scene, securing bookings almost weekly, and wrestling about 45 matches in their first year. 

Savage’s in-ring style is a blend of hard-hitting action and their own creative innovations. While their size is definitely an asset in a sport that loves giants, Savage avoids stereotypical “strong powerhouse wrestler moves,” instead focusing on creating innovative maneuvers. “I try to do things that, one, you’re not going to see on the card. Two, you might not see anybody else do ever, at all,” Savage said. They plan their moves to be both athletic and “very heinous,” with the goal of systematically destroying their opponent’s body.

A fellow Texas-based wrestler, Dimitri Alexandrov, had high praise for Savage. 

“Brick is legitimately one of my closest friends,” Alexandrov said. “I love their drive and commitment to bettering (themselves) both in terms of fitness, ring work, and overall knowledge of professional wrestling.”

I’ve seen Savage in action and was struck by the way they easily tossed around wrestlers, like a parent lifting an infant. But their agility was just as impressive. In one instance, Savage dove from the ring and landed on a hard floor. Even though I’ve been watching wrestling for decades, I was positive they had been seriously injured. By intermission, Savage was signing autographs. 

Aims for the Future

Savage’s talent and hard work got noticed. They recently had a one-off appearance with All Elite Wrestling, the second biggest promotion in the U.S. next to World Wrestling Entertainment. That alone is a huge achievement in an industry where thousands of people nationwide compete for a few dozen jobs. 

Eric Baudour, who has worked as an announcer and interviewer for various Austin wrestling promotions, estimated that there are hundreds of wrestlers in Texas alone, of whom “maybe a couple dozen are chosen to get in the AEW ring.” Even fewer actually appear on TV.  

“The trust a company has to have in a worker to put them on TV in that way is huge,” Baudour told The Barbed Wire. “Especially in the world of wrestling. Think about how easily it could go wrong on live TV.”

And while the exposure is great, Savage has their sights set on wrestling overseas. “My main goal is to get to Japan,” they said.

Savage is drawn to the toughness and grit of Japanese wrestling, a style that they feel complements their own. “When it comes down to the core of wrestling itself and the competition and the fight feel, you really get that grit out of it when you watch Japanese wrestling,” they said. “And to me, that’s the style that I fit in the most.” 

For an independent wrestler like Savage, the road to the top is hard, but not impossible. 

Longtime pro wrestling journalist Dave Meltzer told The Barbed Wire that for aspiring wrestlers, “the key is the ability to stand out, which is a combination of look, the ability to work the crowd, athleticism and above all, charisma.”

“For an independent wrestler, the odds are long but the best odds are for those who make names on the indie scene, which is getting to the higher level (independent wrestling promotions) and word will spread if you are impressive,” Meltzer said.

Wrestling in Texas

For now, Savage enjoys the challenges and rewards of wrestling in Texas, pointing to the diversity of fans across our huge state. 

“I feel like the wrestling is definitely some of the best here,” Savage said. “Texas has probably one of the most unique fan bases. And being able to win over a Texas crowd, I think, can really test your skill level.” 

And as their wrestling journey barrels ahead, Savage takes inspiration from their dad, who was “quite a bit of a rebel.” 

While Bobby 2 Badd had a respectable indie career, he never hit the big time. Savage wants to take things further, which certainly seems feasible. Because over the last three years, they have consistently defied expectations and carved their own path.

“I’ve had people try to hold me down, stop me from doing stuff,” Savage said. “It’s never stopped me.”

Brian Gaar is a senior editor for The Barbed Wire. A longtime Texas journalist, he has written for the Austin American-Statesman, the Waco Tribune-Herald, Texas Monthly, and many other publications. He...