ohtani's jacket

I can't remember the last CMLL singles match I saw that didn't feature a dive, and I could name on one hand the number of lucha matches where there's any sort of sustained body part damage. That's what made Casas' point of attack interesting because it was different from the norm. I don't see why Maximo wouldn't dive in that situation, especially in front of that sort of crowd (which as Matt said looked partially comped), and also because the tope is being used more and more in modern CMLL as the transition for the tecnico comeback.

I don't know if you can really call a luchador doing dives in the third caida "getting their shit in." It's pretty much a fundamental aspect of lucha libre. The whole point of Casas working Maximo's leg over was for Maximo to make a comeback; people just didn't like the way he did it.

I'm not a fan of one or the other (CMLL or NJPW.) I read the WON results and thought they fit in fairly well with the prevailing sentiment, but without dragging up Tweets, I also read the arguments about CMLL being better than NJPW or at least having a better year. I'll admit to being slightly skeptical of the claim, but I think it's worth fleshing out and Twitter doesn't appear to be the forum to do that. Other than that, I don't have any stake in the matter.

Maximo sold the leg after the match and for most of the third caida really. Even when he hit his tope (and he has one of the best topes in lucha history, IMO), he was the worst for wear afterwards. It wasn't like he went on an offensive tear like Manami Toyota is so often accused of. What could he have done differently? Grimaced and clutched at his leg before attempting the tope? Sort of projecting "I know this is going to hurt, but I'm going to try it anyway." That would have been a nice touch, but it would have hardly bumped the match up to MOTY level. Or perhaps he could have chosen not to do the tope because of his bad wheel. We wouldn't have seen one of the best topes in lucha history, which is sad, but it would have been more realistic I suppose. The problem with that is that we'd already seen what he could do on one leg in the second caida which were only lariats. Like I said in my review, if the leg was so important then Casas should have gone after it more during the stretch run. The whole thing got buried for a kiss anyway.

Are you saying you watch CMLL shows from top to bottom? How long has CMLL been the best promotion in the world for? Who are the top 20 workers in the promotion?

I don't have an account. I just follow the PWO account. My understanding from reading cubsfan's year-end write up for the Cubed Circle newsletter is that while Atlantis and Ultimo Guerrero popped a huge gate for the Anniversary Show it did nothing to boost regular audience, even the shows immediately afterwards where Guerrero worked unmasked. It may have been the biggest gate ever at Arena Mexico (due to ticket prices), but I don't think it compares to other big drawing matches in CMLL history like Rayo de Jalisco vs. Cien Caras, which clearly had more of an effect on business. Was Atlantis vs. Guerrero well promoted? If Jedo and Gedo's booking deserves more criticism, or at least more of a critique, then what about the debacle at the 80th Anniversary Show? If CMLL is going to be held to the same degree of relevancy as New Japan it can't be simply that more people discuss how great the workers or matches are, there ought to be proper debate over the way they do business as well, which you only really get in Lucha blog/Lucha world circles. CMLL, from my experience, has historically been the laziest booked promotion in history. Whether that's because of the fact they own the arenas, their "serious and stable" philosophy, or the fact that the Lutteroth family don't really care about the company (as Jose always says), I'm not sure. They just seem lucky to me that so many older fans were willing to pay high prices for the chance to see something historic. Perhaps CMLL can draw another big gate when, and if, Atlantis finally unmasks, but that's a bit like the criticism of the Wrestlemania cards over the past few years. The idolo tournament was by far the best tournament CMLL has ever done (which isn't that big a hurdle to clear, but nevertheless it was a good tournament), but CMLL history is littered with the fallen bodies of workers who received a push, so I would hold off on declaring their star making efforts a success. Again, if CMLL were taken more seriously, there would be an acknowledgement that they're just as bad as WWE when it comes to pushes that crash and burn. I agree with stomperspc that it's difficult to compare the companies in terms of match quality. NJPW is set up to give it's workers every chance possible to deliver multiple WON-style MOTYC bouts per year, whereas CMLL is mostly booked to fill the hours upon hours of regular programming they produce. CMLL match quality has increased during the business downturn, as the workers and company generally have to work harder to please the core fanbase, but the one thing I would argue about the match output is that with the hours of programming CMLL produce there should be more pimped matches to watch each month. Their quality output seems really low in that respect. We're almost at the end of Jan and how many good matches have there been? It's only the beginning of the season, and January's not a big month for wrestling in Mexico, but matches that may or may not ever lead to apuesta matches and booking that lacks any sort of focus other than random heel vs. face match-ups and the odd lightning match leading to a title bout isn't going to win people over who have a WON mindset.

Maximo vs. Casas was never going to be a MOTYC even if Maximo had sold the way people want because it was just a precursor for a hair match. Too much was made out of Maximo's selling; he really only dropped it for his dives and one other sequence I can remember. The finishes to the second and third caidas were much weaker than Maximo's selling.

I took this thread to me underrated by the promotion and not the fans. I don't think Yagi was underrated by her promotion. What more could she have achieved? Tibor wasn't underrated by Dale Martin as he won the Royal Albert Hall trophy more than any other man. Rudge was underrated to an extent, but he preferred to make more money in Germany and Japan so wasn't on TV a lot. With British wrestlers it's harder to define what "underrated' means. Is it not holding a major championship or not appearing on TV a lot?

I see this mentioned a lot on PWO related Twitter accounts and I'd like to hear the case for it.

Japan gets typhoons every year. I don't see what the big deal is.

Anibal/Mano Negra/Gallo Tapado vs. Fuerza Guerrera/Espectro Jr./Espectro de Ultratumba, CMLL 2/8/91 This is the kind of match the Observer would have given a single * to back in the day. Actually, I just checked and it was given * 1/2. Now matter how you feel about the Observer and it's lucha coverage over the years, you're not getting a revisionist *** match out of a * 1/2 rating, just like you can't make a silk purse of a sow's ear; but you can enjoy Fuerza's performance. Fuerza came to the ring wearing a haori-style kimono jacket he must have gotten on the cheap in Tokyo. He had his boys the Espectros with him, because when you need two good men why not the undead? During the intros, Fuerza pulled off the hood Gallo wore over his mask and ripped into pieces, scattering the remains among the front row patrons. This was the sort of feud Fuerza was reared on; in fact, Gallo Tapado was one of the men who trained him. It's interesting that in the US a rooster gimmick can dog a guy for the rest of his days whereas in Mexico you can make a 20 year career out of it. There's a difference in philosophies there that I don't think anyone's really tapped into. As a feud, Gallo vs. Fuerza would have been better in a smaller arena somewhere in the provinces or in the smaller city arenas near the markets, as it needed a more dingy atmosphere where Fuerza wouldn't be afraid to go for the jugular and wring the chicken's neck. It was more fun than surreal, though it did feature the classic moment where Fuerza beat Tapado with a live chicken, which has to rate as one of the all-time great Fuerza Guerrera moments. The early exchanges were really slow. Anibal looked about a thousand years old. It's hard to believe he was ever something in lucha, but he was. I suppose Anibal vs. Espectro de Ultratumba (Gran Cochisse) was "maestros wrestling" before the need for maestros wrestling, but Fuerza and Mano Negra left them in the dust. I'll try not to pick on Anibal too much since his hip was wrecked here and he wouldn't live for too much longer, but the real awkwardness came when either Anibal or Tapado tried to take on two or three rudos at the same time. Normally a real crowd pleaser, neither man had the timing to pull the sequences off and they came across as dud exchanges. Gallo Tapado even tried a Super Astro style sequence where the rudos are mesmerized by his footwork, but that has such a tenuous connection to kayfabe even when performed well that you need perfect timing to make it work and Tapado was struggling to say the least. Of course, you're only as good as the rudo you're facing in lucha, and Fuerza immediately tried to make things more interesting when he was partnered with Anibal. He fish hooked the mask openings, which more rudos should do, and tried to escape the clutches of Anibal's side headlock by tangling himself in the ropes only to be dragged to and fro. It wasn't great, but Fuerza was trying. All through the match, I got the impression he was working overtime to make something of this bout. Fuerza and Tapado finally squared off in the segunda caida, which led to the funniest moment of the match. Tapado was jukin' and jivin,' and doing his chicken dance, and caught Fuerza flush with an uppercut. Fuerza was laid out on the canvas, and Espectro de Ultratumba came rushing in to raise Fuerza's hand in victory, or maybe to stop the ten count. Either way it was amusing, and the Fuerza Moment of the Match. After that there was a lot of crappy mask ripping, though Fuerza again impressed me with his kick/punch offence, and Espectro pulled Tapado's mask around so it was back to front which greatly amused me since I'm a simpleton. There was an unflattering close-up of Vicky Aguilera that made her look a bit doddery. Fuerza's mask was so badly ripped you could make out what he looked like and he showed a lot of ass; literally, as his butt really hung out of those leotards. The tecnicos took the tercera and the match ended with more shitty mask ripping before cutting to that cartoonist again, whose work wasn't any better even when he had time to render it. So, yeah, not a hell of a lot more than * 1/2, but it's easier to watch a match like this these days than it must have been back then when people were collecting tapes. That ties into what I was saying the other day about how easy it is to cherry pick older wrestling. I can watch a match like this on YouTube without worrying about what the company's dishing up. If it's no good, it's just wasted time spent on YouTube and no real skin off my nose. If I were watching it back then, I'd probably be pissed at the direction Pena was taking "la seria y estable" CMLL in, but 25 years later I can pick and choose what to watch, filter it through my tastes, block out the bad stuff and ignore the Pena influence completely if I wish. I'm firmly in the camp that says lucha used to be better, but clicking on YouTube links is a hell of a lot easier than watching things in real time waiting for something good to happen, and in many ways can make an era seem better than it really was. So it doesn't hurt to see some average stuff from the past from time to time to be reminded that not everything was milk and honey in the olden days. After the match there was an interview segment with Vicky Aguilera. For those of you who don't know, Doña Vicky was a little old lady who attended wrestling shows from 1934 up until a few years before her death in 1997 and had her own front row seat. She showed off her collection of masks, which had to have been the envy of just about every collector in Mexico as she had such gems as a 1964 El Santo mask and the very first El Solitario mask. They also showed some of her awards, such as the one she received from the wrestlers' union for 50 years of unbroken audience, and a clip of the triple dive spot where Misterioso and Masakre left her with a bloody nose. I think they were celebrating her 90th birthday because the Brazos made a big fuss over here, which she loved, and Lizmark presented her with a cake while El Brazo sang to her. She really was a grand old lady; the self-proclaimed "granny of lucha." You can read more about her here -- http://tinyurl.com/psl4yg7

Sangre Chicana vs. Satanico (5/26/89) This was a mano a mano bout which, unfortunately for us, never led to a hair match. Chicana was suspended by the Comisión for throwing a row of seats at Satanico; allegedly for six months, but he was back for the Anniversary Show in September so it was more like six weeks (if that.) The incident wasn't broadcast on Galavision, but if you watch closely you can see him pick up the seats as they cut to the next graphic. By the time Chicana returned, Satanico had already moved on to other things and the promoters had presumably cooled on the idea of a hair match (if, in fact, they were keen on one in the first place.) It's possible the Comisión wouldn't sanction one, but more likely that the hair match was supposed to take place on the following week's show and they nixed it when Chicana was suspended. Chicana didn't work much in the Federal District in the late 80s, preferring to ply his talents in Monterrey and Tijuana. If you're wondering why it looks like he'd had a hair cut, it's because Aguayo had taken his scalp at the Auditorio de Tijuana in January. Satanico had also suffered a recent hair loss to Fabuloso Blondy. Chicana began working more regularly for CMLL again after they scored their television deal, but wasn't pushed as strongly by Pena as either Perro Aguayo or CIen Caras.

Those matches were building more towards Cota vs. Latin Lover than Satanico/Lizmark. It's a shame Cota bailed before the hair match as the Cota/Lover feud was better than you'd expect. I went off on a tangent about 90s Cota the other day -- http://prowrestlingonly.com/index.php?/blog/8/entry-448-vintage-negro-casas-of-the-day-12/ In a nutshell, I think he was better than people thought at the time, but not as good as the top rudos.

Some Pavillon Azteca footage & photographs: Here are some brief clips: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmEdXg6oqWI This one's a cheat since it's from the 70s: My favourite Pavillon Azteca gimmick:

Angel Azteca, Atlantis y Blue Demon Jr. vs. El Dandy, Super Muneco y El Texano (3/24/89) This was the week before Dandy and Texano challenged Atlantis and Angel Azteca for their National Tag Team Tiles in a match where Atlantis was knocked out and had to be stretchered off. From memory, CMLL used that footage for their "Don't Try This At Home"-style public service announcement when their shows began airing on Channel 4, as the original 1953 ban had been enacted, in part, to prevent children from performing the moves on one another and Televisa was weary of a backlash at first having experienced parental outrage over the violent anime series Mazinger Z. You can watch the match here if interested: Super Munceo was one of the stars of Pavillon Azteca. He has a really interesting story that would be an awesome story if his ringwork were slightly better, but I'll tell it to you anyway. Like many luchadores, Super Munceo came from an impoverished background. His father were merchants in the fixed markets in and around the Federal District, but he also had lucha blood in his veins as his father wrestled locally as the masked rudo El Sanguinario (the Bloodthirsty). At the age of 12, Munceo took up boxing (a common diversionary tactic among Mexican working class parents to keep their children off the streets and out of trouble), but after attending lucha shows he decided to take up wrestling instead. Naturally, it wouldn't be much of a story if he didn't do it in secret. He made his in-ring debut in 1979 without his parents' knowledge or consent and was soon "discovered" when he suffered a severe lesion in the ring. His father discovered the lesion and the fact he had been training and gave him a beating, dragging him into the gym to stretch him out a bit and dissuade him from wrestling. That tactic backfired and pop realised if his son was going to wrestle he would have to be trained properly. After learning the secrets of wrestling from his father and other local maestros, Munceo reappeared as El Sanguinario Jr. on the local San Juan Pantitlán shows promoted by "El Lobo" Manuel Juaréz. Despite putting his all into being a bloodthirsty rudo, Munceo's girlfriend at the time, María de los Ángeles, disliked his aggressive rudo style and suggested he should make a cute character for children such as a clown. Thus, inspired by the children's television clown, Cepillín el payasito de la tele, a Monterrey dentist turned children's entertainer, who had a show on Televisa at the time, Muneco created his clown gimmick. Sadly, their relationship ended just as the Super Munceo gimmick was taking off giving the whole thing a bit of a Pagliacci feel. Munceo made his debut as a masked clown in March of '82 in Arena San Pedro in Iztacalco, DF where he had previously wrestled as El Sanguinario Jr. The reaction was polarising to say the least. Children and the general public loved him from the start, but the magazines were particularly harsh. They claimed that he wasn't worthy to be in the ring and that his mask and ring attire were an affront to the great fighters (whose gimmicks they had created, of course.) Older workers resented working with him and would rough him up on a nightly basis, similar to how exoticos were treated when they first became popular. Despite growing popularity, Munceo was fairly discouraged during the early years of the gimmick, but wrestlers like Lizmark and El Solitario encouraged him to persevere, reminding him that the gimmick had been done for the children and the general public, and since they had been captivated from the beginning that was all that mattered. Like the Island of Misfit Toys in the old Ruldoph Christmas Special, salvation for Munceo came in the form of El Pavillón Azteca, la casa de “la Lucha Fantasía.” The history of Pavillon Azteca is not well documented, but basically it was a large circus tent that stood next to the iconic Estadio Azteca where Maradona scored the "Hand of God" goal and the "Goal of the Century" along with many other famous events. I believe the first "season" lasted for only a few months in 1980 then returned in 1982. The stadium was only used for wrestling once in 1983 when the "Superlibres," a group of luchadors led by Moises Zárate and César Valentino, promoted a unique show there to commemorate the 50th Anniversary of wrestling in Mexico. Billed as "Lucha Libre En Tercera Dimension," the show featured action taking place in three rings at the same time. The main event saw César Valentino and Tully Blanchard dispute the AWWA World Junior Heavyweight Championship with LA promoter Don Fraser and Lou Thesz on hand to add legitimacy to the title. The show drew 18,000, roughly the same as a sellout at El Toreo or Arena Mexico, which surprised the promoters as they were expecting 5000, but there were complaints that the action was hard to follow and the three ring gimmick was never repeated. For years there were rumours that a huge mask vs. mask match would take place at the stadium but that seems impossible now. The success of the Estadio Azteca show gave AWWA credibility as a serious promotion and Zarate and Valentino were able to broker a deal with Televisa to air Pavillon Azteca shows on Channel 4 despite the 30 year ban on wrestling and the constant pressures and blockades by the Comisión De Box y Lucha del Distrito Federal. The first show was taped on 3/25/84 and aired either the following day or the next week, prompting Comisión head Luis Spota to threaten the entire cast with revocation of their licenses if they allowed the recordings to continue, since the decree of President Adolfo Ruiz Cortines had forbade the transmission of wrestling in Mexico City. Televisa's management and the promoters tried arguing that a decree of such nature ceased to have an effect after 30 years, while the wrestlers claimed they were being denied the right to work because the fact they worked for AWWA meant they were barred from working for both EMLL and Promociones Mora. The "Superlunes" show only lasted three or four weeks on Channel 4 before it was moved to either provincial television only, the cable channel Cablevision, or a combination of both. It was all very political with the rival promoters looking to shut the AWWA out of Mexico City, basically. Amid all this, came a clown, whose surging popularity under the tent led the promoters to believe that the concept of "lucha fantasía" could draw. The Comisión hated this, particularly Secretario Barradas, who had always maintained that the regulations protecting under age minors were both necessary and warranted. Perhaps thumbing their nose at the Comisión, the promoters and the tent owner, Jaime de Haro, ran with the idea of a kid-oriented product creating possibly the greatest lucha indy of all time for those of you who like the kitsch side of lucha. Spearheaded by Trios Fantasia, the group of Super Raton (Mighty Mouse), Super Pinocho and Super Munceo, Pavillon Azteca featured a wide array of bizarre and wonderful lucha gimmicks in the cast of superlibres. Imagine a promotion where Batman and Robin battled exoticos and that was Pavillon Azteca: Then imagine Dr. Alfonso Morales and Don Pedro "El Mago" Septien commentating over the top of it in an excitable, loquacious style weaving imaginative narratives about Popeye, the Jetsons, Spider Man, Mighty Mouse and Darth Vader. At first the wrestlers were ridiculed as "luchadores cirqueros," but the promotion continued to draw and soon more and more big name workers began appearing. The Misioneros even came in and jobbed for Trio Fantasia. Unfortunately, the promotion was soon raided of much of its best talent and ceased running shows around 1988. Trio Fantasia remained big draws for a few years, selling out Arena Mexico for their 1990 mask vs. mask match against Los Tortugas Ninja and 17,000+ for their Monterrey mask match against Los Thundercats in 1991. Super Pinocho screwed that up in AAA when he conspired with a "Titanes del Ring" photographer to take a picture of La Parka unmasked. The magazine ran a "FRAUD! Parka is Principe Island!" cover the following week exposing Parka's former gimmick in retaliation for Pena having banned the magazine from AAA shows. Pinocho got so much heat over the incident that he was blacklisted from AAA and many wrestlers vowed to shoot on him if he stepped into the ring with them. That marked the end of Trio Fantasia, but Super Munceo continued on his merry way, head bobbling, giving candy to the children. He was never again as popular as he had been during the Pavillon Azteca years, but has managed to carve out a career on the indy scene to this very day and has had an extraordinary number of apuesta matches over the years (100+ at last count.) Not bad for a guy the magazines said wasn't worthy to step into the ring.

Super Halcon, Satanico y Masakre vs. El Texano, Lizmark y Rayo De Jalisco Jr. (3/17/89) This was part of the build up to a Rayo de Jalisco Jr. vs. Super Halcon mask vs. mask match which took place at the Palacio de los Deportes on 4/23/89. Halcon featured on the set once before as "Halcon Ortiz" in the Kevin Von Erich trios. During the 1970s, Ortiz had enjoyed considerable success as the masked wrestler "El Halcon" culminating in a mask vs. mask match against Mil Mascaras on 7/29/77 that saw carloads of people crowd Dr. Río de la Loza street just to get to the Arena Mexico box office, so rare was a Mascaras mask match. The atmosphere was made all the more electric by Halcon pinning Mascaras the week before in a triangle match that left Mascaras at the mercy of Alfonso Dantes. Mascaras overcame that challenge, and after a torrid contest, unmasked El Halcon as José Luis Melchor Ortiz. They then rather pointlessly, or cheekily, depending on the payday, repeated the match in Japan the following year. But that's only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the farce surrounding the gimmick. The "El Halcon" gimmick had been created by El Halcon magazine; newly established in 1972 after Hector Valero left the Lucha Libre magazine he founded with Valente Perez. Valero came up with the idea of creating a wrestler to officially represent the magazine and the gimmick was given to Ortiz (so much for conflict of interest.) Legend has it that Perez felt so betrayed by Valero's departure that he launched repeated attacks on the Halcon character in the pages of Lucha Libre, placing pictures of Ortiz and Halcon side by side and making every effort to expose the Hawk's true identity. In response, El Halcon would run feature articles such as "El Halcon y Danny Ortiz, Frente a frente!" to disprove the claims. All these exposés served to do was increase the popularity of the Halcon character, leading some to believe it was all an elaborate ruse between long time collaborators Perez and Valero to drive up sales of both magazines. In any event, for hardcore fans the 1977 mask match represented not only a duel between athletes, but El Halcon vs. Lucha Libre and Valero vs. Perez; Mascaras being Perez' most famous creation. When Ortiz lost, speculation was rife that he hadn't received permission from Valeco to drop the mask and that Perez had somehow managed to lure Danny away with the promise of a new gimmick. Fuel was added to the fire when El Halcon introduced a replacement character, Halcon 78, whom they rather unashamedly deemed the "best prospect" of 1978 in their annual awards. After the drama died down, Ortiz became one of the top pushed heavyweights in EMLL. He worked Los Angeles and Houston a lot, and through his Texas connections, the EMLL office were able to convince Harley Race to make a rare appearance in Mexico for the 1978 Arena Mexico Anniversary Show. The NWA touring champ formula coupled with a healthy dose of Mexican nationalism allowed Ortiz to make a favourable impression on the public; and when he returned from a successful tour of Texas in 1979, including another World Heavyweight title shot in Houston, the public greeted him as an idolo. His name was changed to Halcon Ortiz in early 1980, and he embarked on a series of hair feuds with the likes of Pak Choo, Adorable Rudi, Alfonso Dantes, Herodes, Tony Benetto and Pirata Morgan. He also enjoyed two runs as National Heavyweight champion, the first in 1979 while he was still using the "El Halcon" moniker and then a longer reign from '82-83 as Halcon Ortiz. In 1984, he began a feud with Cien Caras that saw him lose a hair vs. mask match on 5/15. After that he challenged Caras for the National Heavyweight title on 7/30. The way the story goes, and this is really based on people's memories with no hard evidence, is that Ortiz was accompanied to the ring by a masked second named either "Horus, El Super Halcon" or simply "Horus." During the fight, Ortiz supposedly suffered an injury that was so bad it forced him to retire, thus paving the way for him to assume the masked identity of "Super Halcon" without people assuming it was him. Why Ortiz re-masked his anybody's guess, but by this stage there were so many El Halcon "spin-offs", shall we say, that when Ortiz debut as Super Halcon at El Toreo, Carlos Maynes was able to make a trio out of them -- Halcon 78, El Falcon and Super Halcon. Apparently, there were even more unofficial Halcons on the indy circuit. Ortiz' second run as an enmascarado was fairly successful. For a time he was the duel WWA and National Heavyweight champion. He struggled to maintain the chiseled features of his El Halcon magazine days, and often resorted to wearing a body suit, but the era of the Perez/Valero golden bronzed warriors was fading and Super Halcon's mask was the kind of outlandish look that had made the likes of Octagon and Mascara Sagrada popular. To his credit, the mask match with Rayo drew a reported 21,000 to the Palacio de los Deportes, which was supposedly the 5th biggest wrestling crowd in the world that year. Satanico and Lizmark were also feuding in this match and would have a NWA Light Heavyweight Championship match on 7/21 where Satanico took the belt. Texano was still bouncing back and forth between the UWA and EMLL here, which contradicts some of the info Steve Sims provided in his obituary, but that happens a lot when trying to construct biographies for these wrestlers.

Another self-correction here, Chicana vs. MS-1 wasn't the main event of the 51st Anniversary Show but rather Talisman vs. Atlantis.

Finally, we come to 1989. 1989 was a significant year in lucha as it laid the groundwork not only for the early 90s television boom but for EMLL's return to prominence. You'll recall that at the beginning of the decade, Lucha Libre Internacional was selling out El Toreo and other venues on a weekly basis while EMLL was struggling to fill Arena Mexico. Around 1981 or so, EMLL began using independent wrestlers to boost their gates. In the eyes of the fans, these matches represented the "coliseinos vs. independientes," but in reality they were more about freelance wrestlers using their drawing power to boost earning opportunities rather than any sort of inter-promotional feud. When business began cooling off in '84, there were more obvious signs of co-operation between the two promotions, but the ins and outs of this era aren't well known and it's impossible to say the extent to which the promotions worked together. When Canek defended his UWA World Heavyweight Championship against Cien Caras, for example, the title wasn't billed as the "UWA" World Heavyweight Championship, making it difficult to guess how much of a "loan" it was and how much was Canek simply brokering his own appearance. Nevertheless, NWA titles were defended at El Toreo and UWA titles at Arena Mexico during this period. As with many breakaway promotions, LLI began splintering from within. In 1985, Rene Guajardo, who ran the successful Monterrey branch, tried breaking out on his own and had the territory taken away from him. Then Cesar Valentino managed to secure a Televisa deal but couldn't get his rebel promotion off the crowd. The real body blow came in 1987, though, when promoter Franciso Flores died of a massive heart attack. His nephew, Carlos Maynes, took over the business, but made the mistake of continuing with the same formula his uncle had used. Crowds continued to dwindle, and by the time they hopped on the television bandwagon in November 1991, it was too late for the struggling promotion. Television broadcasts of lucha had been banned in Mexico City since 1953 when the city's regent Ernesto Uruchurtu, at the behest of concerned parents, prohibited not only televised wrestling, but also banned women from wrestling in Mexico City and barred children under the age of eight from attending live shows. By 1985, Comisión de Box y Lucha Libre's control over wrestling had loosened, and as mentioned previously, the Asociacion de Luchadores, Referís y Retirados discovered that it had never been granted legal authority in the first place and that lucha libre had no binding regulations. Nevertheless, Televisa had been somewhat hesitant to resume broadcasting wrestling in the capital due to the risk of public criticism. Antonio Pena, seeing the potential in televised wrestling, convinced Paco Alonso that EMLL should approach Televisa with a proposal to broadcast Arena Mexico and Coliseo shows on Mexico City TV. Televisa at the time broadcast three wrestling shows -- two EMLL shows (one for Galavision in the US and one for Cablevision) and the Pavillon Azteca show on Cablevision. Televisa began experimenting with broadcasting EMLL on Channel 4 in Mexico City in 1990, first on Saturday nights at 11pm then moving to prime time at 7pm. As the ratings grew, it was moved to Channel 9 (broadcast nationally) on Saturdays at 6pm and finally Channel 2, the biggest channel in the country, broadcasting every Sunday at 5pm. EMLL (now CMLL) was by now the hottest promotion in the country, but the television broadcasts caused a huge amount of controversy in the lucha world as Sunday at 5pm was when the El Toreo show began as well as several other major shows around the country. As ticket sales began to suffer, the wrestlers' union, the Sindicato Nacional de Luchadores, organised a strike against all CMLL owned or controlled arenas demanding that Televisa suspend its broadcasts. They even arranged a protest in front of the interior ministry with the luchadores parading in full costume. On September 30th, 1991, the Federal Conciliation and Arbitration Board ruled in the union's favour and Televisa was forced to change the time slot. They moved the time slot to Sunday afternoon from 12-2pm, which the wrestlers reluctantly agreed to, and were given conditional permission from the Department of Radio, Television and Film to broadcast lucha libre provided there was no excessive violence. Televisa's frustration with CMLL during the strike action led to them supporting Pena's rival start-up promotion, AAA, which was later revealed to be wholly owned by Televisa; a thinly veiled attempt at seizing control of the lucha business by stepping around CMLL and the SNL union. But all of this is 90s history. On to the matches!

Thanks, Jose. Do you have any idea why the accounts differ so wildly? Is it people relying on their memories or did the magazines spin different stories on some of these feuds?

It's his lucha ratings I like. Not a fan of lucha brawling at all. Sangre Chicana vs. MS-1 no more than average and the following week's trios terrible.

Blue Demon, Blue Demon Jr. y Ringo Mendoza vs. Emilio Charles Jr., Pirata Morgan y Satanico (11/25/88) This was supposed to be Blue Demon's retirement match, and there was even a documentary made about it called Blue Demon, el campeón, but he was lured by promoters into a retirement tour in '89, especially in his native Monterrey, where he was booked in two mask vs. mask spectaculars against Rayo de Jalisco Sr. and Matemático. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ZTxpOzdjmQ The Blue Demon vs. Rayo de Jalisco mask match was actually one of the biggest mask matches in lucha libre history as Rayo Sr. had been a massive star in the 60s and 70s and Blue Demon was legitimately the second biggest star in lucha history. You may find it odd, then, that unlike the 15 year build to the Dr. Wagner vs. El Solitario mask match, the build for Demon vs. Rayo lasted exactly one week. On 7/23/89, Demon appeared at la Plaza Monumental de Monterrey to accept a career award from mayor Sócrates Rizzo. In an angle similar to Funk vs. Flair at WrestleWar '89, guest of honour El Rayo de Jalisco interrupted the award ceremony, claiming that Demon didn't deserve the recognition and that Jalisco himself should be the one being honoured. When Demon ignored him, Jalisco attacked him with the plaque he'd been given, challenging him to a mask vs. mask match. In actual fact, there had never been any rivalry between the two. They'd appeared alongside each other regularly as idolos in both movies and tag matches and were both bona fide lucha legends; nevertheless, the promoters whipped up a jealousy angle and Demon came out of "retirement" the following week, where, after his moment of madness at the award ceremony, Jalisco lost the mask he'd worn for 27 years and was unveiled as Máximino "Max" Linares Moreno, native of Mexico City, though obviously billed from Jalisco. Originally, Demon hadn't planned to make any stops in Monterrey on his retirement tour, but so many people were turned away from the Jalisco fight that business was too good to not keep milking the cow and a feud with Matemático was concocted. EMLL apparently wanted in on the action as well, as a week after the Matemático fight, Demon, Rayo Sr. and Matemático fought in a mask vs. hair vs. hair bout at Arena Mexico. That may be an urban myth, however, as there isn't a lot of evidence that a triangle match took place. Lucha history is not particularly well recorded. While researching for this entry, one source said that Blue Demon was a spectator during a Rayo de Jalisco bout and that Rayo began insulting him after the bell until it escalated into a wager challenge, while another claimed that Matemático was Jalisco's second during the mask match and kept attacking Demon during the bout. The footage shows that's not the case and that Rayo Jr. was in his father's corner. Matemático possibly challenged Demon after the fight, but in any event the story the promoters and magazines concocted was that the younger Matemático, who really wasn't that young, saw a chance to cover himself in glory and use Demon as a stepping stone to become a legend in the sport. The match was another sell out with yet more people waiting outside trying to get in. Demon saw off the "younger" man's thirst for glory and at 67 years of age finally walked away from the ring. Despite a series of serious head injuries, Demon had kept making films through to the mid-70s and main eventing regularly through to the late 70s. When El Santo's heir emerged in the early 80s, Demon began expressing the sentiment that "if the silver legend of Santo can continue, the blue legend will continue as well!" Fierce rivals with Santo for much of their careers (despite their on-screen partnership), Demon was known to make disparaging remarks about Santo in his later years. Wherever that resentment stemmed from, Demon was so desperate for the name of Blue Demon to live on that when his biological son showed no interest in wrestling he gave the gimmick to another young wrestler much the way Black Shadow had done. Originally billed as Blue Demon's biological son, the magazines picked the relationship apart until the story was changed to Demon Jr. being his adopted son. Even that failed to appease some critics who were none too pleased by the lack of any blood relationship between the two. Demon Jr. has always maintained that the story is no lie and that he was adopted at six months old even providing a back story about going to military school and training for the ring in secret while he completed a Bachelor's degree. In their ongoing dispute over booking fees and the rights to the gimmick, Demon's biological son Alfredo Muñoz has added fuel to the fire by claiming that Demon Jr. is unrelated to the family and not adopted. Whatever the case, Demon Jr made his debut on 7/11/84 alongside his father and Villano III against Perro Aguayo, Fishman and Kato Kung Lee at the Auditorio de Tijuana and hasn't stopped working since.

I don't know. I'd have to look for more people's blogs. He/she buys from Alfredo, which I thought was cool.

名勝負 is mei shobu, which basically means "best match," though I believe it can also be used to describe historically famous bouts.

Mogur vs. Mascara Ano 2000 (Mask vs. Mask) (9/23/88) This was the main event of EMLL's 55th Anniversary Show. Despite main eventing the previous year's show, Mogur was already beginning to slip down the card in '88. He'd gone from appearing in the 5th or 6th match of every card to the 3rd, and his only significant apuesta win prior to the Anniversary Show had been firmly rooted in the midcard with him unmasking rudo midcarder "Quazar" as veteran worker César Curiel. He'd also lost his Mexican National Middleweight title to Satanico, which, while not significant in and of itself, having successfully defended it against Satanico on at least two occasions, was notable for the fact they moved the belt onto Dandy shortly after the show; a wrestler whose stock was definitely rising. Still, the smart money was on Mogur defeating Mascara Ano 2000, the way Atlantis had defeated the similarly positioned Talisman. It was something of a shock then when Mogur was unmasked as José de Jesús Pantoja Flores, an eight year man out of La Barca, Jalisco. Despite the fact he had a good body, a nice looking mask, and the biggest push since Atlantis, he'd failed to fire at the box office; and while he never fell out of the midcard (particularly with the defections to AAA), in hindsight this apuesta loss marks the end of his push. Unmasking MA2k in 1988 would have been a major coup for Mogur, but tellingly, taking Mogur's mask did little to raise MA2k's status and it was business as usual the next year with Los Hermanos Dinamita. Mogur was thrown a bone with veteran El Egipcio's hair the following year, as well as Hombre Bala in 1990, which was probably his last significant singles win, though it should be noted that they both took place at Arena Coliseo and not Arena Mexico. He also had a fun feud with Pierroth Jr over the Mexican National Light Heavyweight Championship, which produced some good matches. By no means a terrible worker, he managed to eke out a thirty year career, much of it spent working for EMLL/CMLL, though that may have had something to do with being former booker Tigre Hispano's son-in-law. As for MA2k, he went on to lose his mask to Perro Aguayo in front of 48,000 people in one of the biggest lucha shows ever, so I'd say he made out all right.