The one, the only, the Lucha Libre

When people think of Mexican entertainment, a few things probably come to mind: men with trumpets dressed in funny sparkly suits, the grotesque donkey show, bullfighting or the Lucha Libre. I'm here to tell you about the latter.

For some foreigners living in Mexico, the Lucha Libre is kind of like a rite of passage. It's not something that you're necessarily interested in, but it's something that most everyone has seen at least once. And who doesn't want to see a bunch of grown men in spandex fake-fighting for an hour?

A few Friday nights ago I had the chance to attend a match with some super-fanatics, so I thought, 'why not?'

We sat up in the cheap seats inside the gigantic stadium not too far from my apartment. A spot on the sticky stone benches costs a mere 25 pesos (two bucks, roughly), although a 32 oz cup of warm keg beer costs 50 pesos. While our balcony seats where less than halfway filled, the bottom seats closest to the stage were completely packed, with screaming fans going wild for the borderline-homoerotic wrestlers. The best part for me was the live horn band that played during pivotal points or after "victories" on the stage. It's like the Mexican equivalent to our prerecorded scoreboard music that randomly evokes cheers of "CHARGE!" from the audience.

The night was divided into three fights and a succession of various rounds. I didn't actually understand what was going on so my details are going to be a bit fuzzy on this. What I do know is that the wrestlers each fulfilled very particular stereotypes, and I'm not even talking about the midget they stuffed into a blue gorilla costume who waddled on stage at various points.

The "best" wrestler, according to my posse of experts, is the openly gay fighter Máximo who donned a hot-pink mohawk and a sassy little Spartan costume made of purple shiny pleather with dangerously short pleats. I think the mini gorilla was his helper, or something. His preferred wrestling move was to kiss his opponents on the lips, which sent them flying dramatically backwards and left them wiping their lips in a panic for at least five minutes.

There were also a pair of Tejanos, or Texans, who dressed in tight white spandex cowboy costumes, with bull's horns placed appropriately over the crotch. I believe their weapon of choice was a whip. Black Warrior, naturally, was a black wrestler with dreads tied back in a Rasta-esque wrap. A Japanese wrestler with an appropriate karate headband bowed emphatically to his opponents before each fight. They mockingly bowed back after they kicked his butt.

A whole slew of other wrestlers appeared on stage, some wearing nothing more than neon green Speedos. Most wore the traditional Lucha Libre spandex face mask with little holes cut out for the eyes and mouth, and of which hundreds of replicas where available from street vendors outside the stadium. During each round, super sexy dancers came out to shake awkwardly back and forth for the Jumbotron.

Everyone's fighting was just as overblown and clearly fake as in WWF matches, but everyone loved it and clearly wanted more. And maybe I do too.



[Máximo in action!]