A Boy Named Greggie
Born Gregory Marasciulo on March 30, 1987, in Mount Sinai, New York, he didn’t come into this world with a six-pack or a destiny. But somewhere between learning how to hold a headlock and surviving the horrors of Long Island traffic, Greggie decided he was meant for ring ropes and brainbusters. Before AEW, before the Young Bucks’ superkicks, and before his mother Sue became wrestling’s most beloved Uber driver, there was just a kid in New York Wrestling Connection known as “Plazma.” And yes, it was spelled like an energy drink for teenagers with too much testosterone.
Plazma wasn’t exactly lighting the indie scene on fire, but he was winning belts. NYWC’s Hi-Fi Champion. Tag Team Champion. Even a short-lived Heavyweight Champion before WWE came calling. That title was promptly vacated — not because of scandal, but because Plazma was now a cog in the corporate machine. Enter: WWE Developmental.
WWE’s Great Misunderstanding
WWE looked at this young, agile, tag-team specialist and said: You know what this guy needs? A terrible name.
And thus, Trent Barreta (later Trent Beretta) was born. Alongside Caylen Croft, they formed “The Dude Busters,” which sounds like a group of guys who fail at Tinder dates. The pair existed largely to eat superkicks from The Hart Dynasty and job out to everyone from Cryme Tyme to The Gatecrashers — a team that included Curt Hawkins and Vance Archer, proving WWE has never met a tag team it couldn’t mishandle.
Trent’s solo run was less a career and more a tragic haiku:
“Young man on the rise
feuds with Drew McIntyre
then eats 17 straight losses.”
His most memorable moment? A win over McIntyre on SmackDown. His reward? An indefinite ticket to WWE Superstarsand NXT Redemption, which were only slightly more visible than the dark side of the moon.
He had a torn triceps in 2012, vanished from screens, and was later immortalized in Zack Ryder’s Z! True Long Island Story as the answer to the question: “Where’s Trent?” WWE would answer that question definitively by firing him in January 2013.
Finding His Legs on the Indies (Literally)
Trent, now free of WWE’s confusion and curse of creative, found himself across the planet, wrestling in places where “push” didn’t mean being fed to Sheamus. He showed up in Pro Wrestling Guerrilla (PWG), Full Impact Pro, Dragon Gate USA, and even Germany’s wXw. Sometimes he teamed with Matt Striker (yes, really), and sometimes he wrestled under the existential name Trent?, as if even he wasn’t sure he belonged in the business anymore.
With Chuck Taylor, he formed Best Friends, a tag team dedicated to mid-card brilliance, actual friendship, and unnecessarily long hugs. In a business where betrayal is baked into the DNA, Best Friends were a refreshing cocktail of heart, comedy, and passive-aggressive chaos.
Roppongi Vice and the Rise in Japan
Japan was where Trent actually became a star. Teaming with Rocky Romero, he formed Roppongi Vice, a high-speed, high-flying duo that won the IWGP Junior Heavyweight Tag Team Championships four times. Their feuds with The Young Bucks were like art-school films — fast-paced, absurd, and always ending in someone getting emotionally wrecked.
After they had checked off every box on their five-year plan — win the titles, win the Super Jr. Tag Tournament, and get over — Romero gave his blessing for Trent to move up to heavyweight status. Roppongi Vice was no more, but the legend was just heating up.
Best Friends Forever (Until They’re Not)
In 2019, AEW was born and Best Friends (now with added Orange Cassidy) signed on. Trent and Chuck Taylor brought the chuckles, but also the bruises. Their legendary Parking Lot Brawl with Santana and Ortiz in 2020 might be the greatest no-rules backyard beatdown since Backyard Wrestling Vol. 3: Backyard Justice hit VHS.
And of course, there was Sue — Trent’s mom — who became the official driver, moral compass, and MVP of the AEW tag division. When she pulled up in a white minivan and kissed her son goodbye before he got punched in the mouth, a million wrestling fans cried in unison.
They fought for tag titles, they hugged on PPVs, they dressed up like Rick and Morty, and they never stopped being ridiculous. But behind the laughs was a man with surgical screws in his neck and a career held together by kinesiology tape and spite.
Heel Turns, Wrenches, and the Don Callis Cult
In 2024, it all came undone. Trent turned on Orange Cassidy — yes, the guy who made hands-in-pockets cool — and joined the Don Callis Family, AEW’s favorite faction for misfits and bastards. This wasn’t the lovable Greggie we knew. This was a darker Beretta, a man who had shed his innocence like an old pair of kickpads. He even fought Chuck Taylor in a Parking Lot Brawl, proving AEW will always return to its best plot device: fighting outside.
Then came the wrench. After a brutal blow to the back of the head (and a couple broken screws from his already-fused neck), Trent disappeared. Fans feared the worst. But in April 2025, like the ghost of questionable tag teams past, he returned — flanked by Rocky Romero, back in RPG Vice mode and hellbent on revenge against Tomohiro Ishii. Because nothing says Japanese honor feud like a surprise run-in on Collision.
Legacy of the Man Called “Trent?”
Let’s be real. Trent Beretta is the Forrest Gump of modern wrestling. He’s been everywhere: ECW, WWE, NXT, ROH, NJPW, TNA, AEW, PWG, AAA. He’s wrestled on YouTube, in parking lots, and in front of 75,000 people in Bombay. He’s had tag belts, bad gimmicks, and a mom who once yelled at Santana and Ortiz on live television.
He never held a world title, but he held our attention — even if half the time we were saying “Is that Trent? Oh wait… no… it’s… yeah, that’s him.”
For a guy who started as Plazma and wound up in the Don Callis Family, Trent’s career has been less of a straight line and more of a scribble drawn by a caffeinated toddler. But that’s what makes it beautiful. He’s the indie darling who survived the system. The mid-card hero who never got jaded. The friend who never stopped hugging — until he started swinging wrenches.
If there’s one thing you should know about Trent Beretta, it’s this: He’s not a question mark anymore. He’s an exclamation point.
And his mom drives a minivan.