Lucha Libre: Wrestling On Steroids

This is my last post about Mexico City, I promise, or at least my last post until the next time I visit, which I swear to God has to be sooner rather than later because I have still not seen or experienced everything.

Something that is a must, a non negotiable, is to go see a Lucha Libre event.  Such a thing is iconic to Mexico and it’s not like anything you have ever experienced before, I promise you that much.

My first experience going to a Lucha Libre wrestling was years ago.  Vendors selling everything from tacos, elotes, quesadillas, chips, fruit, masks, memorabilia, were screaming the closer you got to the wrestling venue.  It was a cacophony of noise to my startled ears.  I clutched white knuckles to G’s hands.  Afraid that if I let go for a moment I would be lost to the throngs of people, never to be seen or heard from again.

People were lining up everywhere, being patted down before tickets could be scanned.  G yelled to go with his mother, but I didn’t really want to let go of that hand, my life line I thought.  I reluctantly released him and followed his mother, so closely that I kept stepping on the back of her shoes.  I soon realized that women would be patted down by women and men, by men.  That made sense I thought although I was still  afraid that somehow we might get separated and then what would I do?  Perhaps live at the wrestling ring from then to eternity, slowly circling the place yelling G’s name like some sort of lost cat.   That didn’t happen of course, I made it into the arena, attached myself to G once again, and embarked on my first Lucha Libre experience.

If you do not already know Lucha Libre is Mexican freestyle wrestling that is somewhat rooted in the late 19th century, from when the Grego-Roman wrestling gained popularity.  It has been through several transformations; probably the most notable was when Slavador Lutteroth founded the Empresa Mexicana de Luch Libre (EMLL) in 1933.  This marked an important step in organizing Lucha Libre events, as well as uniquely stylizing it.  

You may think that Lucha Libre, is similar to its American counterpart, which even has some Mexican wrestlers crossing over, Rey Myterio being one. But I assure you that it is not.  I always found American wrestling to be kind of fake and didn’t quite understand why it had gained so much popularity; more talking through silly story lines than actual action.  I even treated G to a live WWE experience once.  John Cena was the headliner and I was proud to get us seats close to the side of the stage.  In Mexico, if I would have had similar seats we would have been part of the action, instead of feeling like a magical curtain had been ripped away to reveal the sad wizard on the other side.  The punches were so fake they were laughable; I even heard John Cena giving directions on how he needed to be hit to his fellow wrestler.  Yoza!! I was far from impressed, having seen real Mexican wrestlers in action months prior.  It seemed to me there was far more grandstanding than actual wrestling. A lot of the picture below. One hit and then this.

In Mexico, there is no talking through silly plot lines.  It’s an athletic event where wrestlers are jumping from ropes; doing flips, turns, throwing each other around at such a speed you barely have time to take a breath before the next trick is being set up and executed. 

Lucha Libre has even had a few fatalities in its history.  In 2015, Perro Aguayo Jr. died after sustaining injuries during his match as well as  La Parka in 2020 who had his own complications sustained from his performance.  And these wrestlers are not compensated like the Americans in WWE are; many are struggling, work more than one or two or three jobs to just make it semi comfortably. I encourage you to watch Lucha Mexico, a 2015 documentary that follows several wrestlers who go about their day to day life, as well as the pitfalls that so many face being in the spotlight and then having to face the harshness of their reality. 

And then there are the masks that some of the wrestler’s wear.  Intricately designed and sold after some matches to hobbyists who collect and display each and every one for the art that they are; my husband being one such collector. 

When I first met G he was excited, although a bit embarrassed to show me his collection and I, not being the type of person to judge, too much that is, took it all in one masked head at a time and believe me there were a lot of them, but I fell in love with the reason he started collecting them in the first place.  It all started with his grandfather, he told me; they would go to wrestling events together.  I can just see little G, eyes wide with excitement at these big men in their glittery costumes, creating larger than life characters for themselves and their audience.

This is G's office. The opposite wall is also floor to ceiling, with more masks in our living room, on book shelves, crammed into closets.

When you go to a Lucha Libre event you have to have the whole experience, first being to get a Michelada, a Mexican beer cocktail which typically includes lime juice and a variety of sauces and spices with tajin smeared along the rim (my favorite part). Then you have to get yourself a bag of chips. The kind that are so salty that they make the back of your throat itch and then of course pour what feels like a gallons worth of Valentino sauce on top of the whole mess of it.  The black label if they have it; I don’t know why people even bother buying the other stuff at this point.  Find your seat, settle in, and enjoy the next two hours.  Don’t be embarrassed to participate as insults are thrown at the performers amidst applause, sticky fingers, and laughs all around.