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A Group Of Teen Wrestlers Built an Illegal Oxycodone Empire

A Group Of Teen Wrestlers Built an Illegal Oxycodone Empire

In June of 2009, Lance Barabas threw a lavish party that has transformed his status of college student into a local legend.

The blow out was filled with college kids consuming weed and drinking Jeggermeister  writes Lance’s friend Douglas Dodd in “Generation Oxy: From High School Wrestlers to Pain Pill Kingpins”.

Generation Oxy is Dodd’s story of how he and his friends started selling pills for extra money in ghischool in 2006 and ended up overseeing a mutlimillion dollar drug ring that was making 40.000$ a month at one point.

Dodd and his friends were athletic, on the wrestling team and weed fans. He met Barabas and his brother Landon, and their friend Richard Sullivan, at wrestling practice on his first day at Hudson High School in Hudson, Fla., in 2003, describing them as “a bunch of blond-haired, blue-eyed, wisecracking rich kids surrounded by a pool of the underprivileged.”

After Dodd was arrested for pot he became subject to weekly drug tests. This led to him switching to oxyvodone.

“Subject to weekly drug tests, Dodd writes that he and Julian “spent most of our time watching movies and getting wasted on oxy pain pills, a semi-synthetic opioid used for managing severe acute or chronic pain.”

While marjuana shows up in drug tests for months, oxy leaves your system in just a few days.” Writes NY Post

Through word of mouth, he connected with a number of people who had prescriptions and were willing to sell him pills. His accidental drug empire constructed itself quickly.

“Within a few weeks I had over 2,000 pills coming in a month,” he writes. “I started selling them for $15 per pill or 10-packs for $120. I made almost five grand that first month.”

The four friends became inseparable, spending all their time wrestling and partying on the weekends.

They held impromptu wrestling matches in the trailer after moving the furniture outside.

“It was more like a scene from ‘Fight Club’ than your typical high-school party,” Dodd writes. “There were always a few real brawls and lots of drinking.”

The Hudson Cobras weren’t a particularly good wrestling squad, but there was a strong sense of team spirit — and at least among friends, an appetite for illegal substances. Both Dodd and the Little General wrestled at 125 pounds and were constant sparring partners, practicing bear hugs, headlocks, arm drags, every day after school.

“Wrestling is the sport of all sports,” Dodd tells me. “It’s a warrior sport. Blood, sweat, tears — it’s got everything. You don’t rely on anyone else. I’ve always been self-reliant, I guess because I was left alone so much as a kid.”

Since the bust Dodd has cooperated with the cops and was sentenced to 6 years and 8 months. He’s since received a certificate in logistics and distribution management from a technical school in 2016 and will graduate with an associates degree from Pasco-Hernando in 2018.

 He notes with no small irony that his technical certification is through APICS — “a professional association for supply-chain management.”