Articles, columns, tape reviews, and random observations from the Viva staff

The drunken ramblings of Northern California's lucha enthusiasts.

Lucha Libre's official message board.

The Official Site of El Santo.

The Official site of Blue Demon.

CMLL's official home page.

Photo Archive of lucha toys!

From Parts Unknown Magazine's site.

Great Eddie Guerrero fan site.

Visit La Mosca de Francia. He rocks the ass.

     I haven't had the fortune to be inducted into the lucha scene at a young age. It wasn't until I first saw Rey Misterio Jr. hurracanranning the hell out of gringos in WCW that I began to obsess over lucha. The major set back of this is that, although I've had great opportunities to see modern day luchadores tear it up, I haven't had the chance to see the sports' legends in their glory. I've seen some vintage Santo matches, and a few Blue Demon movies (ya' gotta love Blue), but the one legend that has alluded me has been the man of 1000 masks. That all changed on a fateful day in late May.
     An indy fed, San Francisco Lucha Libre, was promoting it's new show. They imported a handful of 'name' luchadores, but their main attraction was definitely Mil Mascaras. He was scheduled for a trios match, teaming with Juventud Guerrera and Tinieblas Jr. Armed with my digital camera, I got to the show early to try my hand at 'wrestling photography.' The crowd on hand was a pleasant mix of lucha punks and Hispanic families, all lining up to buy shirts and action figures of their favorites. Unfortunately, the lobby didn't provide many photo ops, so I decided to get a soda and find a good seat. The show ended up starting a little late. As the minutes passed, the soda chilling in my gut wanted out. Worried I would miss the opening match, I ran to the bathroom. A slim kid with tattooed sleeves and an 'event pass' was guarding the door.

Me: "Can I get in man, I gotta piss like a ninja."
Tattoo (mumbling): "Hold on a sec, bro. *Mindy's* in there...

     I figured that the women's bathroom must be busy, so he was making sure no guys would walk in while she used the men's room. It struck as odd that he reffered to 'Mindy' by name. After all, how would I know who she was. I took it all with a grain of salt, as my bladder was throbbing at this point. Finally, I heard the flush, and could hear footsteps approaching the door. To indicate that I really had to go, I started to muscle past the tattooed mumbler. As the door opened, I was stopped dead in my tracks. Frozen, and in a state of shock, excitement, and a little bit of fear, I found myself standing face-to-mask with 'the' Mil Mascara. He was decked out in a red and grey mask and, god bless him, a matching adidas warm up suit. 
My brain quickly deduced that 'Mindy' must have been 'Mil', and tried to communicate with my voice...

My Brain: "He speaks spanish. Say 'Hola' you stupid shit!"
Me: "Heeeyyyy! You're Mil Mascaras!"
My Brain: "I'm outta here. (sound of a door closing, and a car driving off)"

     His mask muffled what might of been 'Hi'. He then waived at me (from 1 ft. away) and and started to walk away. Apparently, the tattooed kid was escorting him to the bathroom.

Me: "Wow, do you think he'd mind if I took a picture of him?"
Tattoo: "I don't know, but he's kind of sensitive about that kind of stuff..."

     At this point, I was completely awestruck, and couldn't imagine getting on my good friend Mil's bad side. The kid started walk away, but not before expressing one last, ridiculous comment that I won't soon forget, "...fucking 'legends'."

-RobAnalog