Thousands gathered in the city gymnasium of Ciudad Juarez on a cold and windy Sunday evening. Rain and dirt had swept through the city the whole weekend. Regardless of the inclement weather, people from both sides of the border came together in anticipation of the monthly Lucha Libre match (Mexican Wrestling Event). No one was more ecstatic of the forthcoming event than Angel, the boy in the picture above. He was wearing the mask of wrestling legend, Jorge Guzman, also known as El Hijo del Santo. Angel was kicking and punching imaginary villains. His young parents encouraged and cheered him on. At times they became his nemesis and childishly wrestled him. Like Angel, people from all age groups anticipated the matches to come. Regardless of their age, spectators eagerly awaited their local and national wrestling heroes to take the main stage on the wrestling ring.
Lucha Libre is one Mexico’s national pastimes. Since the 1930s, the sport has mesmerized the minds of the Mexican people. In the 1950s, with the arrival of television, Lucha Libre became a national phenomenon. Wrestlers tend to wear masks to hide their identity and are divided into two groups: tecnicos, the good guys, and rudos, the villains. Tecnicos follow the rules of the wrestling commission. The rudos play by their own rules. The crowd takes sides and either cheers or condemns the actions of the wrestlers. The fans, regardless of who they supported, awaited the start of the event.
Local wrestlers took the ring first. Their amateur status was evident from the start. Regardless of their tecnico or rudo affiliation, they would often flop in their attempts to execute their wrestling moves. The crowds’ cheer turned to laughter, and at times insults. Regardless of the lack of execution, the wrestlers would play along with the crowds antics. They would attempt wrestling moves that were beyond their experience, like the patada boladora (the flying kick), in an attempt to rally the crowd for the main event featuring a former world wrestling champion.
Rey Mysterio Jr., who is originally from Tijuana, Baja California, Mexico, was the featured star and crowd favorite. Short in stature, with a strong physical build, Mysterio was flawless in the ring. He would easily execute his moves. With every kick that he landed and smack-down that he produced, the crowd would grow louder and louder. Throughout his match nobody was sitting down. Children would chant his name, MYSTERIO! The opposition had no chance. Two against Mysterio, the Tijuana native corralled his adversaries in-between two ring ropes while they appeared unconscious, and performed his signature knockout move, The 619. Both opponents fell to the ground. Mysterio pinned them down at the same time. The referee counted to three and the crowd erupted in cheer.
Mysterio surpassed crowd’s expectations. Fathers lifted their sons in victory. The elderly quietly clapped in admiration after what they had witnessed. In that moment, age and personal history did not matter. That evening the spectators were one body and part of a trans-generational national tradition: Lucha Libre.