ORIGIN STORY
THE BIRTH OF TONY STARCH
Anyone worth noting has that defining moment that sculpts their future, one that leads them down a path of glory or destruction. This is not that story, rather it’s a story of my rebirth. Sit back and embrace the beginning of greatness.
The year was 2003, Napster had been shut down, YouTube was just a concept, and CBS’s Sunday Morning just introduced the world of Extreme Ironing to America. As an impressionable high schooler I immediately fell in love with the sport, but even quicker did I forgot all about it when the next segment aired.
Fast forward to the year 2012, I officially broke into the sport while ironing inside of the University of Arizona’s legendary basketball arena, The McKale Memorial Center. My debut was met with awe and disgust. Popcorn was flung from rows above while the basketball teams raced up and down the court trying to make a basket. A security guard soon rushed over, not to protect me from the enraged mother and daughter who were wasting perfectly good popcorn, but rather to determine if I somehow was able to plug the iron into nonexistent outlets. Confused, the guards soon dispersed, allowing me to continue my embarkment into redefining what is acceptable public ironing.
