The world is far more peculiar than most of us dare to admit. Somewhere between a demolition derby and a wrestling ring, between the crackle of VHS tapes and the shriek of late-night public access, lies a man who has turned mayhem into meaning. On today’s episode, we welcome the unparalleled and unfiltered Mad Man Pondo, a professional wrestler and author whose life has been a whirlwind of body slams, topless TV hosts, and late-night green room oddities. With a voice still rough from last night’s match, he guides us into a tale of chaos, tenacity, and triumph.
Mad Man Pondo—real name Kevin Canady—is not merely a character in the ring. He is a living mosaic of outrageous stories and unshakable spirit. Raised in a reserved household, he found himself drawn to the fever-pitched passion of pro wrestling his grandparents once yelled at on their living room TV. That early spark lit a fire, and he never let it go out. As he says in this episode, “My mom still has the paper I filled out in grade school that said I wanted to be a professional wrestler.” That dream, written in crayon, would become a 30-year odyssey through blood, barbed wire, and blinding spotlights.
The journey to the ring was not paved with ease. Pondo describes the brutal, often humiliating, early days of wrestling school—the beatings, the busted lips, the sheer will required to prove he belonged. He tells of how many walked away, unwilling to endure it, while he pressed on. That kind of devotion would become his defining trait. When the legendary Abdullah the Butcher told him he had the talent to wrestle in Japan, Pondo drove through the night, edited his best matches on two old VCRs, and mailed the tape by sunrise. The result? Forty-three trips to the Land of the Rising Sun.
But Pondo’s life wasn’t confined to the ring. Ever curious, ever mischievous, he created “Skull Talk,” a public access show featuring wrestling commentary and, yes, topless women sitting on his lap. Equal parts performance art and rebellion, the show sandwiched between two church broadcasts caused outrage and fandom in equal measure. “One preacher would send me scripture every week,” he laughs. “But I knew he watched every episode.” This was Pondo in his purest form—pushing boundaries, dancing at the edge of decency, and always keeping his audience on their toes.
What’s perhaps most impressive is his ability to weave these escapades into something strangely noble. Whether talking about riding shotgun in a demolition derby car painted with horror icons or booking outrageous guests for the Jerry Springer Show, there’s a heart beneath the madness. His creation of “Girl Fight,” an all-women’s wrestling promotion, is a testament to his desire to give others a platform, to share the stage, to pass the torch. He’s not just fighting for himself anymore—he’s built a ring where others can rise too.
And then there’s the book, Memoirs of a Mad Man, a wild ride through his memories, filled with stories that make you laugh, cringe, and occasionally tear up. One story he held secret for decades—a deeply personal moment with wrestling legend Junkyard Dog—was finally shared in its pages. “I thought, you know what, let’s put this in there,” he says. “It was time.” In telling that story, and many others, he transformed scars into stories and chaos into legacy.
