It started off with a flier at the hostel in Guadalajara. Turns out, every week there's a tour to a legit Lucha Libre wrestling match just a few blocks away. We pay for the cheap seats, a few drinks are included, and we get a crash course on how it all actually works. Not bad!

When it's finally time to meet, folks from 2 different hostels arrive and we gather in front of the building by my parked (leaking) motorcycle. The hostel employee stood up on a bench and had us gather around, and even put on a Lucha mask. He gave us an idea of what we were in for that night.

RULES 

Lucha Libre is quite simple when it comes to the framework of each fight. There are typically 2 teams with 3 wrestlers each during a bout. 

There are the 'good guys' and the 'bad guys'. Good guys typically wear white, blue, or brighter colors. They fight more honorably, come with more recognizable names, and are more likely to wear masks. The bad guys will wear black, red, and other stark contrasting colors. They fight dirty and rarely wear masks as it is seen as more of a symbol of honor to keep the mask on. 

People can root for whatever team they wish, but more people cheer for the good guys.

There are tapout and knockout rules, once tapped out, your out of the round.

There are 3 rounds, whoever wins the best of 3 wins the whole match. The night consisted of several matches, 3 rounds each.

Some matches come with story lines because the luchadores are well known celebrities in their cities. Its with this that it draws some parallels with American WWE wrestling-styles of soap-opera-esque dramas mixed with combat.

THE MASKS

The masks invoke the images of animals, gods, ancient heroes, and other tropes. The luchador will take on these traits when wearing the mask. All luchadores begin their careers with masks, but many become unmasked as their career goes on. Some even change masks without their identities being known. Some will be unmasked only upon retirement, but some famous luchadores go through their careers unmasked. It's wherever the storyline takes them.

Many luchadores will wear their masks when out in public to keep the spirit of the game alive and thriving in public. After all, no one will recognize a celebrity walking amongst them if they're all masked. 

El Santo, one of the most famous Luchadores, wore his mask long after retirement. His face was revealed, for the first and only time, 1 week before his death in 1984. He was buried in his mask. 

THE SPARK BOX

Okay, back to the action. We walk a few blocks to the arena and drinks are distributed. We get a choice of Victorias and Coronas. We chat with a few of our fellow hostel travelers, asking where they're from, who they are, how long they've been on the road.... but then an old man shows up with a box covered in knobs.

Our guide, the hostel employee, takes two metal rods attached to this box by wires. Apparently he's going to be electrocuted. The guide stood there with the rods in each hand and took the current as long as he could take it, the voltage (?) bring raised every few seconds to see what the max he could handle was. I believe he said "85" before the guide stopped.

A couple other young guys in our group decided to give it a shot, but came no where near the guide. They stopped around 70 or 80.

After doing some light research, I still have no idea what the point of that was. The man walks around Lucha Libre fights outside during pregame and people electrocute themselves. Maybe it's a way to pump up the audience and get people fired up before the games. No idea.

(Later note, I've found out that people have been doing this outside of Soccer games and other events. In so many words, it's a manhood measurer but all in good immature fun. It doesn't hurt anyone.)

THE ARENA

After pre-gaming in the street outside, we went into the arena's lobby. It was covered in mural artwork of luchadores. There were even some plaques on the walls honoring famous retired luchadores going back into the 70s and earlier, over 50 years ago. Not all of the plaques had luchadores with masks, meaning some had not gone all the way to retirement with masks. 

When they let us in, the energy is everywhere. We were ushered upstairs into the cheap seats and we found ourselves walking amongst a bunch of people wearing black t-shirts that say "Putas los que abajo" or 'The people below us are bitches.' There's a big middle finger that takes up 70% of the space on the back of the shirt.

Were amongst the hooligans, a member of which is our guide. They play music from trombones, drums, trumpets, and other big-band instruments like we were at any indoor-arena college hockey or basketball game. 

The noise was everywhere. I thought Latin America already living with the volume turned up, but this was a notch higher. Indoor smoking was still in practice. Children would look to their parents to see if it was okay if they could yell out cuss words like the rest of the crowd. Much like Minnesotan fathers may say to their kids when fishing, parents here give kids a pass to cuss at the 'bad guys' in the ring.

The people were cheering, shouting, and moving to the music. Then the chants began.

THE RIVALRY

One thing that our guide explained to us beforehand is we're going to be jerks to the people below us. The rich people, the people in the seats below us closer to the ring, are our sworn rivals or enemies. We need to make them feel stupid by jeering at them with chants and songs. Of course, the hooligans were regulars at these kinds of events so they had a lot of chants at the ready.

"Putas los que abajo!"

"I can't hear you!!"

"You're all motherfuckers!"

We're to make fun of them for their riches, their physical features, everything. Nothing is off-limits here. Some even resorted to throwing straws, napkins, and even some coins down into the crowd. 

I then saw a luchador walk down amongst the lower seats and start some chants from the lower folks. Of course, many of them don't regularly frequent the games, so they had no idea how to organize chants like the hooligans did. The luchador down on the floor got people chanting and making hand gestures back, and many were very happy to do so after listening to us for a few matches.

I then later found out that the luchador that was helping the lower seats coordinate response chants was our tour guide in disguise. 

THE ATTRACTION

The beer was $5, which at an attraction like this was just a steep of a price as it would be at a ball game back home. 100 Pesos is a lot for a beer that's typically just 20 each at a liquor store or 45 at a bar.  After downing a couple of these, I started to view the festivities more analytically. 

I saw luchador wrestling much like wrestling matches in the US. Much like cheer-leading, the wrestling moves are a series of risky calculated acrobatic stunts that draw oos and aahs from the crowd. Flips, tumbling, bouncing and jumping off of the ropes around the ring--- it's quite enjoyable. Some of these hits, whether by hand, ring, or floor, are hard. 

The men are in amazing shape, although some exceptions are bigger or more old. In a way, it's also an attraction for women, since these men could double as strippers or models. They're scantily clad, wearing sometimes nothing more than boots, a thin bulging bikini, and a cowboy hat.  Some come out dressed in suits and slowly peel them off for the crowd. 

IT WASN'T OVER YET

The last match had a ton of storytelling that kept the audience there until the very end. The biggest names, the most complicated attacks, and the biggest show was left for the finale, which was pushing midnight on a weekday. I was surprised how many stayed, even with children.

After getting let out in front of the building, the show wasn't over. The Hooligan band started playing and people broke out into song and dance. Even the hostel goers got into the fray, lost in the music, reveling in the energy we built off of the luchadores in the ring.

It was there I found myself in a euphoria. I was lost in the song surrounded in people all in smiles. Locals danced with hostel guests that came with me as they timidly worked through basic latin dance moves. People jumped and touched the ceiling. A homeless man danced with his dog off to to the side of the band. Couples got lost in each other's eyes. The mood was ecstatic.

Lucha Libre literally translates in English to "struggle of freedom". That night, whatever our personal struggles were, we were able to wash them away and focus on the games. Feeling free.

-JT

1/15/2022