2,000-Year-Old Inscription Found, Proving Anti-Doping Agencies Were Just as Useless in Ancient Times

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In the sun-kissed ruins of Anemurium, where the Mediterranean waves whisper sweet nothings to decaying columns, a team of archaeologists dug deep into the sandy memories of yesteryears. And what did they discover? A 2,000-year-old inscription glorifying a guy named Kaikilianos, who apparently won the wrestling championship of antiquity, proving once and for all that even in ancient times, people were struggling for glory while simultaneously participating in the eternal sport of avoiding any meaningful contributions to society.

Professor Mehmet Tekocak, the maestro of this archaeological orchestra, proudly announced to the world, “Look! A treasure from our past!” Meanwhile, in the present, the only thing being unearthed at an alarming rate is a horde of social issues that make this discovery seem like a stone tablet telling tales of a legendary wrestling match instead of the reality show that is Turkish politics. As excavations go on for what feels like a millennium—or perhaps it just feels that way—each new exhibit from the ruins sparkles like a family heirloom in an endless yard sale of mediocrity.

Governor Ali Hamza Pehlivan popped in for the photo-op and declared the city critical for Mersin, missing the irony that while they glorify wrestlers from BC only to remind contemporary citizens that honor and athletic achievement has clearly skipped several centuries. “Look at how vibrant our town was!” he exclaimed, as the city struggles to keep its own citizens from wrestling with basic needs in modern life. Who knew a bunch of rocks could bring such joy when they’re merely a few hundred times removed from reality?

Every year, the excavations promise another thrilling find—perhaps a statue of a health goddess last year and now an altar inscription, carved on what might have been a pristine stone before becoming a makeshift coffee table for future archaeologists. Historical jigsaw puzzles don’t get more riveting than attributing ancient athlete contests to a guy named Flavianus who organized these competitions in his honor, like some ancient version of a social media influencer craving likes and follows for winning a wrestling fight.

It seems the ancient citizens of Anemurium were so ahead of their time, showcasing the same ridiculous love for sportsmanship that would make any modern-day wrestling fan proud. But who could blame them? In a world where winning an ancient wrestling competition somehow remains atop the list of historical achievements, we might as well validate it with ceremonial stone tablets.

And let’s not forget Tekocak’s newfound insight that Anemurium was a training hub for athletes. A million-dollar home-training program that screams, “Don’t worry about your day job, become a grappling icon instead!” As people continue to scrape by on anything that’ll pay the bills today, dreams of ancient sporting glory remind them that some things never change—like the ability to lift heavy things over one’s head whilst a society crumbles around them.

So, here’s to Kaikilianos, the long-ago wrestler whose accolade seems slightly more fulfilling than the existential dread of contemporary life. May future generations sift through our memorabilia and write not-so-poetic epitaphs on the absurd dance of metaphorical wrestlers struggling to pin down their dreams—one ancient inscription at a time.