Segunda Caida

Phil Schneider, Eric Ritz, Matt D, Sebastian, and other friends write about pro wrestling. Follow us @segundacaida

Tuesday, October 17, 2023

Espectáculos Promociones Panama: Master List

MD: We're looking at a bit of a break from Panama to cover some personal stuff. That said, for a while I wanted to put together at least a rudimentary master list of what we've done so far, through FFF and Espectáculos Promociones Panama. I know Blogspot is not the best for this sort of thing so here's a list. Someday we'll go back and try to source out dates and have a chronological list for everyone and really make sense of the footage, but for now hopefully you find it useful. Check out all of the EPP posts for the context and pictures and go out of your way to see Exterminador and Bunny Black and Sergio Galvez and Sandokan and the guys that you know. Stylistically, it's a fun middle ground between Mexico and Puerto Rico and there's a lot to discover.

Going through the FFF stuff again, I do think it's likely we'll revisit some of it at some point, because the story of Park in Panama or Gigante Tataki or the Brazos deserve Graham's historical treatment. In the meantime, hopefully footage keeps dropping so we build up a backlog of more matches to watch. 

Found Footage Friday:

12/17/21

  • El Celestial vs. El Tahur
  • Gemelos Infernales 1 y 2 vs. Gavilán de oro y La Cobra
  • Puma y Lobo Negro vs. Estrella Blanca y Antorcha II
  • Chamaco Castro vs. Tiburon Negro
  • Gemelo Infernal III vs. El Barón
2/11/22
  • Sergio Galvez/El Tahur vs. Kato Kung Lee/Celestial 1988
2/18/2022
  • Sandokan vs. Principe Island 
4/1/22
  • Sandokan vs. Rocky Star
6/10/22

  • Cirujano de la Muerte vs. Emperador 1988
11/11/22
  • El Barón y Jaguar Kuna vs. Satánico y Gemelo Infernal 3
  • Sandokan/Ricardo Díaz/Antorcha 1 vs. Kronos 2/Gemelo Infernal 1/Gemelo Infernal 2
12/9/22
  • Sandokan/Kato Kung Lee vs. Gigante Tataki
  • Sandokan/Olimpico vs. Gigante Tataki (Hair Match) 
12/23/22
  • Solar vs. Sergio Galvez
12/30/22
  • Sandokan vs Principe Island (LA Park) 1988
1/6/23
  • Principe Island I (LA Park) vs. Principe Island II (Super Parka) 1988
1/13/23
  • Principe Island I (c) vs Sandokan
1/27/23
  • El Idolo/Ursus/Celestial vs. Gemelo 1/Gemelo 2/El Tahur
  • Los Brazos (Brazo de Plata/Brazo de Oro/El Brazo) vs. El Idolo/Celestial/Ursus
2/3/23
  • Los Brazos (Brazo de Plata/Brazo de Oro/El Brazo) vs Gemelos Infernales/El Tahur 
Espectáculos Promociones Panama
  1. Introduction
  2. Solar/Antorcha vs. Sergio Galvez/Joe Panther
  3. El Africano vs El Cobra
  4. Sandokan (c) vs El Africano
  5. El Idolo vs Celestial
  6. El Barón/La Cobra Vs Bunny Black/El Ciclón 5/15/87
  7. El Barón Vs Bunny Black (mascara contra mascara) 5/30/87
  8. Silver King/Máscara Negra vs Sergio Gálvez/El Cirujano de la Muerte 5/15/87?
  9. Kendo vs El Tahur 5/30/87
  10. Mary Varela/La Gata vs La Baby de California/La Hiena de Jalisco 7/30/89
  11. Blue Panther/Gemelo Infernal I/Tahur vs Kato Kung Lee/Baron/Celestial 1/17/87
  12. Sandokan/Celestial/Emperador vs. Principe Island/Cirujano de la Muerte/Idolo
  13. Gemelos Infernales vs Gran Darazín/Flamarion 1988
  14. The Legend of Sandokan: At War With Anibal
  15. Idolo/Exterminador vs Sandokan/Emperador June 1988
  16. Idolo vs Exterminador (Chain Match) July 1988
  17. El Idolo vs Exterminador (mascara contra mascra) 7/17/88
  18. Hombre Araña/El Celestial Vs El Androide/Joe Panther 10/2/88
  19. Idolo vs Kendo (mascara contra mascara) - 2 October 1988
  20. Impacto/Halcon Vs Atila Jr./El Satanico November(?) 1988
  21. Satanico/Atila Jr. vs Impacto/El hijo de Urracá - November/December(?) 1988

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Tuesday, September 05, 2023

Espectáculos Promociones Panama: Idolo! Kendo!

Idolo vs Kendo (mascara contra mascara) - 2 October 1988

MD: The atmosphere for this is absolutely off the charts. This crowd lived and breathed with every single thing that Idolo did and trash flew at every one of Kendo’s actions. In fact, I get the notion they flew just a little too close to the sun here and it impacted the trajectory of the match. Kendo ambushed Idolo early and it’s just not the Kendo we all know and put up with. There’s no aping of Kato Kung Lee’s shtick. There’s nothing but driving violence here. He drives all the way to a chairshot on the outside. That’s when we see a giant white object fly in from off screen at him. It’s probably a chair, but whatever it is, it’s dangerous and everything grinds to a halt with its arrival. After that they decide for some pleasant mask ripping by the apron and back in the ring to let the crowd cool back down a bit. When they go back outside again Idolo has the advantage. He actually has the advantage for a lot of the back half.

It’s not the first course correction I’ve ever seen but it’s a fairly unfortunate one. I’m all for big tecnico comebacks in apuestas matches and certainly by the end of this, Kendo’s mask is comically destroyed, but the strength in this one was probably going to be in Idolo eating a beating and Kendo causing a riot. Instead, we get a lot of Idolo sizing him up for his long distance karate strikes. I’m not going to say that Idolo is an emperor with no clothes, because I do fully think he understands how to set up a moment and milk it, and that’s as much a part of being a star in wrestling as anything, and the fans are completely behind him, but past one nice looking dropkick and him pulling it together for the dive that set up the finish in the tercera, he just wasn’t physically there by this point. The fans don’t care. I know if I was in this crowd, I would take his early stumbles as him just trying to power back after the start-of-the-match beating that Kendo gave him. I’d see it as valiant and not deficient and I think, for the most part, the crowd absolutely saw it as such.

That, in and of itself, lets you forgive some of the things that probably didn’t work here and focus on what did, like when they were throwing fists on their knees, masks torn apart and exhausted, or the submissions towards the end, with Idolo going deep on a crab, only to have Kendo tap his back, pretending to be the ref in order to escape. I did love the finish: Kendo recovered first after Idolo’s tope but he was overconfident because of that and turned away from his prone opponent. That allowed Idolo to slip in with a cavernaria out of nowhere. Post-match, Kendo didn’t seem very upset by the loss, but that seemed to be part of a tecnico turn. If he no longer had the mask to make him feared and beloved, best to take a jovial approach, hugging Idolo and getting the crowd back behind him for whatever might be next; they’d be more likely to buy into his shtick then. This one was all about the crowd, and what a truly special crowd it turned out to be.

GB: I’m not sure what to make of this match. I really regret not enhancing my Spanish skills more as these videos probably have the answers I need but the audio quality is just so low I can’t make head nor tail of anything in the post match. Thus, I’m left with more perplexing questions than answers.

What I know is that Kendo came into this match strong, having taken Tahur’s mask in December 1987. Idolo, of course, was hot off the Exterminador mask win and enjoying the fan adulation he had been missing out on as a rudo. That’s as much as I can find on this match. 

The Kendo we have here is in stark contrast to the Kendo we’ve come to know in Mexico and Japan. He’s equally in stark contrast to the Kendo we’ve seen in Panama. A year earlier he was valiantly offering to train El Baron in hand-to-hand combat in his fight against Kendo’s real-life cousin, Bunny Black. He was also avenging Kato Kung Lee’s honor in facing off against El Tahur in a title match that we covered earlier. He was a fan favourite tecnico. Here he’s pretty much a straight rudo without the quirks and stylations that make him so obviously Kendo.

You get the jovial side in the post-match reveal but that just furthers the confusion, in all honesty. If I was to make guesses, I think it’s more Kendo playing to the fans in the hopes that they pardon his loss and let him remask (as they allow by fan-approval in Panama) but, again, I’m not so sure.

Kendo is very open about his history and career. There are many interviews out there to listen to and he goes into a lot of detail regarding each stage of his career. He laments a little bit regarding an incident with Sandokan and he obviouly puts Panama over as how he got to Mexico but he doesn’t go into his return to Mexico nor his fights with el Tahur. It’s a rather odd omission as this was a central feud to his 1980s. He’s also a largely influential wrestler to the territory with his work with el Baron, Kato Kung Lee and inspiration for other karetakas such as Kuman Chu and Kent Sui:

In broad strokes, the Luchawiki article on Kendo is more or less correct. However, there’s a dramatization that Aguayo/Anibal “found” him and gave him his first clean break. Truth be told, Kendo was already a hot commodity in Central/South America. The Mexicans just speedtracked the process, if you will, as his name was growing to the point he’d arrive there eventually.  The real person I think we can tribute Kendo’s international success to is Johnny Piña who brought Kendo out of the Domincan Republic first. After all, even El Santo asked for Kendo by name in 1981 when looking for people to practice with his son before his debut:


Having himself debuted officially at 14 and having started training a little earlier (with the odd match or two at 12 and 13), you get the sense from Kendo that his trainers were incredibly harsh on him. We lament that Panama had mats in dingy basements but Kendo had none even of those luxuries. He broke into wrestling at the age of nine, having to find work after the passing of his father. He spent his time filling out water canisters for the arenas, making a mere twenty cents a time along with free entry to the fights. Through this he met José Martín, the local mask maker and ultimate inspiration for his real-life career as a tailor. His trainers, El Cirujano and Gran Castillo, had him learn to bump on the hard ground with the rationale that if he could learn to land here, he’d learn to land anywhere. They’d even have him weighed down by cinderblocks as he did neck strengthening exercises. Listening to him speak, though, you realise he was fond of this method of training and seems to hold it against  the younger generation for not dedicating their bodies in the same way he did.

Kendo spent the next eleven years travelling around the Dominican Republic making a name for himself before Johnny Piña brought him to Panama at the age of 26 where he worked for Samy de la Guardia. In fact, he would travel through seven different countries before even getting a shot at Mexico. The usual names come up but, interestingly, Kendo mentioned his times in Curaçao and Aruba - territories I’ve never heard much mutter about before! Thanks to the prominence of Samy’s booking, Kendo got to work with many big names that he’d never have the luxury to work with otherwise. Wrestlers such as Septiembre Negro, Perro Aguayo and Villano III all laced up their boots opposite or alongside him. This was his way in and he was determined to show off his abilities. He was saving for a ticket to Mexico, already, but this was the much easier route he thought. Perro Aguayo and Anibal were both impressed enough by the young wrestler and agreed to recommend his name to Franscisco Flores, the promoter of the UWA. They had told Kendo it was no guarantee, it was only a name-drop, but they’d try. So, gambling everything on himself, Kendo travelled back with them to Mexico on the 7th of May 1983, at the age of 27. He was playing a dangerous game as he had a contract to wrestle for a month and a half with a promotion in Colombia that started on the very same day. He was burning bridges on the hopes of this recommendation. Thankfully, it paid off. This was Kendo’s dream. It was Mexico or death, as he said, and the plucky karetaka succeeded.

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Tuesday, August 22, 2023

Espectáculos Promociones Panama: Idolo vs Exterminador 3: Idolo! Exterminador! Mascara contra Mascara

El Idolo vs Exterminador (mascara contra mascra) 17 July 1988

MD: Definitely a fitting finale to the feud, this had a lot of what you'd want from a high stakes apuestas match in front of a hot crowd with a national hero putting it all on the line. Exterminador has been something of a baffling case to both Graham and I since he comes off as extremely talented. He bumps all over the place, is full of energy and drive on offense, and jumps off the screen with character. He hits all the marks here from an early ambush to hiding the object to flying into turnbuckles and poles and tossing Idolo into chairs before gnawing at the mask and Idolo's skull.

This tended to be fairly back and forth throughout, especially once the object was no longer in play. There was that primera beatdown and a comeback where Idolo got to use funky martial arts chops on the outside as Exterminador spasmed all over the place, but most of the rest were just the two of them beating on one another and tearing at each other's mask. In the tercera, there were any number of dramatic submissions (with Idolo quick to power out) or pin attempts (some strong back and forths here). By the end, the masks were so undone and ragged that there was one spot where I half thought they'd end up wearing one another's mask.

Exterminador's mask was better set up to get bloody and there was one point where, after a posting, he ended up under the ring to help things along. All of it got the crowd into exactly the right mood and when Idolo hit his armtrap belly to belly and just held it there forever, for a pin, for long seconds after the pin, the crowd erupted with kids dancing in the aisles as the arena became a jubilant riot scene. Exterminador would lean into his defiance (for maybe it was a double pin?) and in the post match studio interview would set up his final match on the tour, but this was a nice trilogy to have under his belt and a triumphant return to the side of the angels for Idolo.


GB: What’s in a name? For Raul Torres it was both everything and nothing.

Despite coming from a wrestling family, Raul rather had his sights set on another one of Mexico’s exotic spectacles, bullfighting. The glamor of having an arena chocabloc full of fans staring only at you captured young Raul so he started his training in 1968 with the hopes of being Mexico’s next big icon. There was something to the young man that his trainer gravitated to. He had an unmatchable charisma and “flame” inside him - he had the hallmarks of a diamond in the rough. However, his trainer would tell him that bullfighting wasn’t able to release the spirit he possessed and he was destined for lucha libre. Raul ignored this and continued plying his craft in the bullring. Admittedly, he saw some success and would continue training in the sport for many years before those around him started piling on the injuries. Not wanting to be left in a wheelchair, Raul refocused his energy onto another sport that had got his uncle, Atila, great admiration and public attention - lucha libre.

A rookie in 1982, Raul was intent on making his own way in lucha, taking on his own gimmick as opposed to one that took legacy from his uncle. He was content in working lower on the card, absorbing the adulation of the crowd around him. He had to put in many nightly hours bullfighting so the gruel of wrestling wasn’t much for him. As the years passed and the gimmicks changed, Raul struck gold on his third gimmick - that of “Exterminador”. The qualities of a self-made, rough fighter fit his persona well and it seemd a character he could inflect all of his energy into. He would couple with León Negro and the duo would become a whirlwind of a hit in their local city, Mérida. The local promoter Fallo Solis was all too happy to book the two as it meant, week after week, more bums in seats than he had ever seen. Life was going well for Exterminador until León Negro quit wrestling to pursue a full-time career. The end of the duo certainly put the brakes on Exterminador’s success but he was still motivated to reach his destiny and continued fighting.

Not long after the split, a South American businessman took notice of Exterminador’s talent and offered him a fat cheque to wrestle around South America. Knowing this was his ticket out of Mérida, and likely path to superstardom when he came back to Mexico, Exterminador leapt at the opportunity. He traveled through countries such as Colombia, Venezuela, Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic, working his way up the card and fighting their local heroes. He was thousands of miles from home but he was honing his craft and playing to big crowds across a milieu of different match styles and succeeding at all of them, month after month, year after year. He had two major pit stops before returning to Mexico and the local fame he so desperately sought; namely Guatemala and Panama.

By 1985, he found himself in Guatemala. The homeland of the revered Rayo Chapin - the “real” blue legend they told the Mexican. By this time he was already a name some recognised. His debut created some hubbub. Perhaps a little shorter than some had imagined, Exterminador was every bit as ferocious as the legends that preceded him.  In no time, he was posing himself a threat to the masks of local Guatemalans and travelling foreigners much higher up the card back home.


Soon enough, as his bookings went, it was time for Exterminador to step up and face the local hero. After winning 50 masks, nobody really believed Rayo Chapin could be defeated. However, if there was ever one man, it was Exterminador. He laid out a challenge for Chapin’s Campeonato Centroamericano de Peso Medio (what a mouthful!) and made mincemeat of the champion. After three thrilling falls, the crowd was left stunned. Exterminador was the new champion. Maybe Chapin had finally met his match.

Rayo Chapin’s tag team partner, the Salvadorian Ciclon Cuscatelco, would seek revenge by offering his mask against Exterminador, which he would lose in two straight falls on December 15th 1985. This infuriated Rayo Chapin. The mask match was on. Rayo Chapin was not to be outclassed and laid it all on the line in a mask/career vs mask/title match set for the 29th of December 1985. One of the biggest matches of the 1980s was set. Yet it never happened.

Rayo Chapin was a no-show for the event and Exterminador seized the opportunity. He claimed the local legend was scared of him and took his bags and ran. “¡Qué te parece! Ese Rayo Chapin es un cobarde con suerte” (“What do you know! That Rayo Chapin is a lucky coward!") said Exterminador with a chuckle in an interview. He’d go on to say that Chapin knew he would be defeated and couldn’t bare the embarrassment. In actuality, Rayo Chapin had a double-booking in Panama (coincidentally!) at the time and chose to honor that instead. Of course that issue couldn’t be communicated with fans and instead the reasoning was left that promotions had to cease to allow focus on the concurrently running “Juegos Centroamericanos de la Paz” (a regional athletics competition). As Exterminador had violently beaten up Rayo Chapin mere days before, in a Christmas Day angle, the fans never bought this so they had grown to believe the words Exterminador was espousing about their hero -  “lo que no se imagina es que yo, El Exterminador, volveré por su máscara y ni Dios ni nadie podrá salvarlo de ser exterminado“ (“what he doesn't imagine is that I, The Exterminator, will come back for his mask, and neither God nor anyone will save him from being exterminated”)

Luckily, Exterminador was juggling multiple feuds at the time and the local promoter saw opportunity with the young upstart Astro de Oro who was being regailed as the “find of the year” and a newcomer many promoters felt could be the next Rayo Chapin or El Arriero de San Juan.

Exterminador’s feud with Astro de Oro had started quite early on in 1985, in February to be precise, when they’d encounter one another in a triangular mask/mask/hair match with Diablo Rojo. Exterminador laid out Rojo and then set his sights on Oro, who he pinned to take the match, leaving Oro/Rojo to duel it out. Much like his win over Rayo Chapin, the crowd was stunned. Before this match, nobody had pinned Astro de Oro. Yet Exterminador had. Defiantly. Astro de Oro, a blue-eyed tecnico would resort to the dirty “martinete” to retain, sensing danger to his streak..

A streak that would last mere months when Exterminador took it for himself. Astro would wager his mask against one of Exterminador’s two titles where he would finally get his win back on the 4th of November 1985. The fans rejoiced, the beast had been momentarily slain. Could he be the one to take the mask, they thought?

On the 2nd of March 1986, the fans would get their answer in a match billed as the “fight of the year”. While Astro de Oro had been undefeated, a mask match was new ground for him. The only apuesta he had won by this point was against Diablo Rojo and that was due to Exterminador’s doing. He was at a monumental disadvantage in the eyes of the fans, but they held hope as the two fighters were 1-1 in singles competition. It was champion against champion, mask against mask.

After a violent three falls, Astro de Oro emerged victorious, gripping the mask of the fallen Mexican, as the crowds pushed him to the heavens. Their David had slain Goliath. In that moment, the biggest name in Guatemalan history was born.

Exterminador would wrestle at least a few more months into 1986 before packing his bags, this time as a tecnico and compadre to Astro de Oro. I’m not sure what happened in the two years between Guatemala and Panama but his earthquakes had rippled back into Mexico and a magazine had an entire two pages dedicated to his triumph abroad and that he was a surefire star for either EMLL or UWA whenever he chose to return. I do know that he had travelled to Venezuela and Puerto Rico during his stint so it might have been here. I also know that he suffered a clavicle injury around this time and, perhaps, that delayed him heading to Panama for the feud we’ve been covering here. Whatever the case, he was equally responsible for a huge cultural moment in Panamanian wrestling (Idolo’s turn, second and final match vs Sandokan) and his mask was a massive boon to Idolo’s already impressive list of accolades.

From here, Exterminador returned to Mexico. He was destined to be a star, and newspapers talked him up as such, but something didn’t sit quite right. He wasn’t used to wrestling unmasked and felt it too awkward to capture his character. Fate would see him injure his knee within weeks of his return to Mexico, cutting off his momentum.

In part because he yearned for a mask, his brother offered him the Atila Jr name for when he finally made his in-ring return. Raul didn’t quite feel so comfortable forging on in a legacy he never built but they signed the papers and registered his licence. This would be his downfal, despite all the print chalking him up as this massive future star.

Promoters loved him but were apprehensive about booking him. The Atila name carried enough weight that just his mask put him in the upper part of the card. However, local promoters felt they didn’t have a star big enough to offer against him and he hadn’t yet made a splash locally to justify a chance at the big leagues. Thus, Atila Jr found himself floundering. All the years, blood, sweat and tears he had shed were for nought. He’d return to Guatemala in the 1990s and his feud against Verdugo(?) did gangbusters but fans were a little confused by the name as they had their own Atila (and Atila Jr). It seems to this day people get the two Atila Jrs confused.

In hindsight we can argue Exterminador/Atila/Raul’s Mexican career was a massive fumble. We cannot predict “what ifs” but there’s enough evidence to suggest he’d have more likely swum than sunk on the big, Mexican stage if he had kept to his guns in forging his own path. This painful lesson would be passed to his son, Doberman, who he ensured would not carry on a “family legacy” but rather go by their own merits.    

After four heart attacks, Raul is now unofficially retired from wrestling. Still a fan of lucha libre, he visits local arenas to witness the weekend’s fights. However, it’s only the “old guard” that recognise him from the ring. Fans will jeer and chant alongside him, not knowing the importance of the man they’re sitting by. One of the greatest unsung heroes of Latin America would see his fame dwindle into obscurity.

What’s in a name?

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Tuesday, August 15, 2023

Espectáculos Promociones Panama: Idolo vs Exterminador 2: Idolo! Exterminador! A Chain Between Them!

Idolo vs Exterminador (Chain Match) - July 1988

MD: A Chain match! At some point I'll stop gushing on this, but the fact that we have a three match series on tape from 88 with an iconic turn, a bloody chain match, and the mask match is just amazing to me. I feel like even with Mexico we don't have a ton of situations where we have a three match feud that ends with a mask match from the late 80s. It's not like we have a ton of 1980s chain matches from Mexico either.

So it's always great to see a gimmick match as part of a big feud from another culture. It's funny here especially as you get halfway through before realizing that either pinfalls or four corner touching work to win. That's a testament to the first ten minutes being as close-combat and gritty as possible. They spend the first five minutes doing nothing but choking each other with the chain and jockeying for positioning in believable and interesting ways. Then the next five minutes are more focused on hammering one another due to the fact neither can get away, more choking, and mask ripping and biting. It's only after that where they start trying to touch corners and continuously pull one another down.

By this point, they're bloody and battered and there's a sense of wild desperation to things. Idolo was fresh off his rudo stint and still willing to get down and dirty, absolutely meeting Exterminador where he was fighting. When they realize that neither party can get an advantage by pulling the other, they fight to the outside, and here, even though the scene is obscured by arena placement, it's a combination of nasty whips into hard surfaces, errant chairshots both from the person doing the beating and the one trying to protect himself, and this awesome little video slip where Idolo just disappears off the screen as Exterminador pulls him down. That gives him the advantage he needs and he's able to get Idolo back in and after a clutch fireman's carry and some confusion on which corner he needed to touch, he takes the match to heat him up as much as could possibly be before the mask match.

I loved the escalation of this, starting from a point of strangling one another, moving to punching and mask ripping, then to winning, then to trying to put one another away as violently as possible. It makes so much sense, but I'm not sure I've ever seen a chain match quite like this. The crowd was a steady buzz during the close combat stuff but they went up for the corner reaching and became the usual near mob scene when they hit the floor or brawled after the match. Certainly, this was a way to build excitement for a mask match!

GB: As Matt mentions, it’s rather special to have pretty much the entire feud here on tape, for quite a number of different reasons. I believe there might be a singles match lost along the way but the big strokes are all here for us to enjoy.

For all intents and purposes, this is the only on-tape look into Idolo’s signature booking against foreigners. We have a spattering of mask matches lying around, but nothing is presented in full as it is here. His calling card all began with Steve Clements in May 1970 when Idolo would challenge Clements for the NWA European title (the title Idolo kept for a few years and “unofficially” unified with the NWA World Middleweight title in his match against Guajardo). As a way to spice up the rivalry, and to play into Idolo’s more “rudoistic” nature, the promoter of the time (Manuel Jose Hurtado) set up a succession of gimmick matches that Idolo would need to survive before he was awarded a title shot. The debut was simple and pretty straightforward by how we know Panama to go - a tag match where things break down and the feuding pair take umbrage to each other. Next, Idolo would face Clements in an “unsanctioned” no referee, no rules match to prove he had the chops to hold an NWA title. While “Sin arbitraro” isn’t all that uncommon a match-type in Panama, it was already a high-stakes affair, the final pitstop before a mask match, so the addition of a follow-up singles match was new to the Panamanian audience. In order to ramp up the violence, Don Hurtado would introduce a four-corners “chain match” that saw Idolo take the win and the right to challenge Clements for his title, pitting his mask against the Brit’s championship. Idolo was already a fan favourite at this point so it wouldn’t really cement any legacy, however, this title win kept Idolo’s momentum going and allowed a sure-fire recipe for booking success for promoters bringing in foreign talent to take on the local champion.

While it may have taken us a few go-rounds to get into understanding Idolo’s appeal, it wasn’t quite the slow burn for fans in Panama. They took to him like hot cakes. But what were/are we missing? Well, as Samy de la Guardia described Idolo, he had what few others fighters had, he had "ángel” (a Spanish term of endearment for someone with special charm) and that charisma was what the fans latched on to. Although he might have had money behind him, Idolo had quite a humble background to his character. He was an all-star athlete and Olympic wrestler introduced to wrestling via his good friend, Shazán. While he would get his formal training through La Amenaza (the man he substituted for in his professional debut) at the Gimnasio del Colegio Javier, Idolo loved training with Shazán at the latter’s Academia de Lucha Libre which was nothing more than a basement room across the road from the local ice cream parlor.

Idolo was tough and unafraid and it was this pluckiness that would catapult him into the annals of Panamanian lucha libre after a hard-fought victory in July 1965, simply three years into his career. Colombia’s Furia Roja had been running rampant throughout the territory and was leaving Panama’s prized tecnicos in fear of his challenges. None of them dared to stand up to his mask challenge, and, as much as fans willed on their supposed heroes, these wrestlers continued showing their yellow spines. That was until Idolo answered the call turning tecnico in the process after a career as a rudo’s rudo, not quite in the vein of a bloodthirsty Gálvez, but rather in the “skillful strength” of Chamaco Castro. When Idolo prized off Roja’s mask, thousands of fans roared his name. This was when Idolo as “leyenda viviente” (living legend) was born.


There would be a slight recapture of that moment in the Exterminador feud as Sandokan willed Idolo to fight alongside the tecnicos once more - for the glory of Panama if for nothing else. Just prior to their tag match we covered last week, Sandokan faced off in the last of only two singles matches between him and Idolo. While we could deride the decision of leaving a huge money match on the table in a hair/mask match, both singles matches had their reasons. The first came after Sandokan dropped his mask and didn’t need to be as protected. He was tasked to give the rub to Idolo as the true “champion” of Panama in a hard fought match that went to four falls (1st Sandokan, 2nd double-pin, 3rd and 4th Idolo). Their second encounter in May(?) 1988 was to lay the ground for Idolo’s turn. It might be easier to imagine the two as Goku (Sandokan) and a more misguided than evil Vegeta (Idolo) at this point, with Goku egging on Vegeta to “do the right thing” in fighting the lurking evil together (Parka/Exterminador). Of course, Idolo does, as we saw him embrace Sandokan in the tag match lead-in. In the eyes of the fans, it was all she wrote for Exterminador (who’s importance in ushering in a South American boom we’ll cover next week).  

So, as we finally “get” Idolo, that issue is more on us and how we are voyeurs of this world, devoid of the cultural impact it had on those around it. It’s pretty difficult to convey just how much Idolo and Sandokan meant to Panama’s pop culture. Many children feared hearing their parents scream “Not even Sandokan will save you from this beating” after they had done something wrong. Idolo was on billboards and busses across the country for years after his death. While it seemed the media wanted to shun wrestling in favor of boxing, its fans never forgot their roots.

After a long fight against cancer, Idolo passed away on the 4th of August 2009. Over 500 hundred fans flocked to the cathedral to witness just a glimpse of his coffin as it passed by in the funeral procession. Wrestlers old and young carried him to the el Jardín de Paz where he was laid to rest with his iconic black and orange mask.

So, no matter what Matt and I might think, these two men were real-life superheroes to an entire generation. 

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Tuesday, August 01, 2023

Espectáculos Promociones Panama: Idolo vs Exterminador 1: Idolo! Exterminador! Sandkan! Emperador!

Idolo/Exterminador vs Sandokan/Emperador (June 1988)

MD: I have to admit that I've spent a couple of months just wondering what the big deal with Idolo was. You can read from Graham's history posts that he was up there with Sandokan, if not definitively above him, as the top start of the territory, but we've been seeing a bunch of lukewarm rudo performances where he's outshined by the people he's teaming with again and again. He did carry himself like a star and like someone important, and the fans reacted accordingly, but there was a spark missing. Thankfully, we have a place to try to find it here with the Exterminador feud and this is a great start. This began with me more or less reaffirming my priors albeit with a glint of hope and ended with me starting to see the light (even if it might simply be the light at the end of the tunnel of Idolo's rudo run).

Right from the get go, Exterminador stands out more than Idolo. He brings a kid into the ring before the bell, flips in and out of the ring on tags, has some very fun chain wrestling with Sandokan, takes an atomic drop by spasming through the ropes and all over the floor. Just a lot of charismatic body language as he bumps, feeds, stooges, and batters Sandokan around the ring. Idolo honestly looks pretty good here in shorter exchanges despite it all, with a clear smoothness and familiarity with both Emperador and Sandokan, but he can't help but be overshadowed by a guy wrestling for the back row like Exterminador is.

That's especially true once the story of the match kick in and we begin to get the rudo miscommunication spots. They have to hit each other at least eight times and each one seems to matter more than the last. By the middle of the segunda, Exterminador has gone from being apologetic to begging off (which led to a funny moment of him hugging the ref and cheapshotting Sandokan) to trying to prove himself by taking all the offense, to trying to steal shots from Idolo as he got way out of hand. It boils over with an absolutely amazing turn as Sandokan comes back and someone starts interfering for Exterminador and everything begins to break down with the rudos coming to blows and Idolo, with the cheerleading and help from Sandokan and Emperador, starts mauling Exterminador around the ring and ringside area as the fans begin to mob in excitement.

When watching this, I had no idea how long Idolo had been a rudo, but it's obvious he had once been a beloved hero and there's building pressure during this post-match chaos as Sandokan and Emperador have their hands raise and continue to throw Exerminador back into the ring as they egg Idolo on. Throughout it Idolo has stopped caring about them and is solely focused on Exterminador building the suspense more and more until, after clearing the ring once and for all, Idolo and Sandokan embrace and the already wild crowd goes ever more so. I've mentioned before but sometimes with this old footage from a culture not at all our own, this stuff that has never been spoken about in our circles, that isn't part of some "canon" we all know like, for instance, Santito turning rudo, well, it can feel like sneaking into someone else's family gathering. Sometimes you get the sense that this isn't for you, that you don't belong, but here, it's impossible not to feel the elation of the crowd and the excitement of the moment and to share in the universality of pro wrestling at its most emotional. This was a huge, important, iconic moment and we're so fortunate that we've gotten to share in it, just as we're fortnuate that there's a chain match and a mask match to come.

GB: Exterminador would grace Panama roughly the same time as La Parka, with Parka obviously squaring off with Sandokan and Exterminador being the Mexican for Idolo to beat. By all accounts, this is either one or two weeks after the Sandokan/Parka mask match placing it toward the tail end of June 1988. It’s a relatively brief feud, culminating on July 17, but it saw its fair share of violence and hostility. The main matches (this tag, a chain match, and the apuesta) we are lucky to have on tape and will write them up in the coming three weeks.

As Matt eloquently put it, this was a huge cultural moment for Panamanian wrestling. Their hero, El Idolo, would turn tecnico after I believe his final run as a rudo during his peak. Cards on the table, this post was to be a recap of what led up to this moment. The plan was to recap a few questions, most especially: “Why had Idolo turned rudo to begin with?”  “How long had he been rudo?” and “What caused the return to the tecnico side?”  Unfortunately, the trail ran cold on me and I’ve seemingly exhausted every possible avenue. In terms of information, El Idolo is possibly the most written-about wrestlers out of Panama. So much so, in fact, that he has his own website covering his career. Yet, the information is more fanciful. Nothing quite detailed enough to glean.

Panama is an incredibly proud yet protective territory. I've mentioned it before but there's a very insular network going on where even local fans are gatekept in a sense. I do believe a lot of it is due to bad experiences with foreign writers who seemingly used Panama for their own gains, whatever that may be. Sammy de la Guardia has referenced some previous writers as "pirates of history" and Don Medina has taken great exception to what he believes are frauds in wrestling journalism. Those guilty are big names; ones that, if you're a follower of lucha, will have definitely heard of and might have read. It's daunting in that sense as I'm just one man, writing on a blog for the first time. I don't have credentials or authenticity to my name. These posts are my portfolio of evidence to that end. My hopeful key to getting to the fabled historian I keep hearing of but never encountering. All in the bid to share as much as I can of the beauty that is Panamanian lucha. Thus, dear reader, we will need to hold off on the big turn for this week in hopes that I can cast my net wider to those in the know.

Look, if this feud was as simple as just Idolo and Exterminador, I'd feel a bit better in connecting dots that may not be there. After all, Exterminador was just a statistic. Another notch on Idolo's belt. Number 31 of 78 (40 masks, 38 hairs). And although I have a small sense of the background and believe it similar to Idolo’s first tecnico turn (which took place during his feud with Furia Roja where he would take the Colombian’s mask in July 1965), it would be wrong of me to offer my guess work here. Not on something so important such as the reunion of Sandokan and El Idolo.

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Thursday, July 27, 2023

Espectáculos Promociones Panama: The Legend of Sandokan: At War With Anibal

MD: We are back. Graham had a big life event and I went on vacation and I can't promise that we're going to be stable and weekly moving forward but I can reassure people that we're in for the long haul. This stuff is worth it. In the midst of all the chaos of the last few weeks, Graham's prepared a bit of a bio on Sandokan, focused on his feud with Anibal especially. I'm constantly amazed by the research he's done and the knowledge he's pulled out. This is naïve and ignorant of me, of course, but it's just astounding how little our English-speaking circles knew about Panamanian Lucha. This is such a vibrant, rich world, full of exciting matches that we are lucky still somehow exist and stories of legendary, culturally relevant matches that we'll unfortunately never get. We're going to spend the next few weeks with Idolo (An iconic turn! A chain match! A mask match!), and I think it's only fitting that we give Sandokan some time first. The easy comparison so far has been a Carlos Colon type figure, unmasked (by the time we get footage of him), a statesman, somehow who can represent the sport, who can go, who can wrestle and brawl and carry the crowd with him. 

GB: While Roberto Duran might be the worldwide recognised star, in Panama, his legendary status would always be usurped by one man that he would (literally!) play seconds for, Sandokan.

Coming from humble beginnings, the little boy from El Chorrillo, a corregimiento in Panama City, sought to live out his dreams of emulating his idol El Santo by joining the local wrestling gym on Calle 14 de Barraza. A mere few weeks later, on May 21, 1966, he was presented with a list of names and a chance to debut. “Sandokan” he pointed to after being erroneously told the name represented a Hindu King that fought for his people. With $2.50 slipped into the palm of a promoter, he had a mask shipped to him from Mexico and he never looked back. So began the career of Panama’s biggest star.


Rene Guajardo battles El Idolo in front of 23000+ rabid fans.

Until the recent semi-remodeling of Estadio Revolución in 2009, no sporting event was able to hold close to the attendance lucha libre was putting on in the “golden era” of the early 1970s. So popular, in fact, that government regulations came swiftly in controlling just how many fans promoters could pack into the arenas. This means that while the record books have the highest attendance as Guajardo/Idolo (23,868), it’s not quite the apples to apples comparison many make it out to be in saying this gate proves Idolo as the bigger star than Sandokan. Attendance for wrestling would always be a sellout crowd but the number of fans getting through the gate would continue to dwindle over the years with official capacity of Gimnasio Nuevo Panama (GNP) dropping to 15,000 following the Guajardo/Idolo record-smasher in August 1973 and a further drop to 14,000 weeks later (again, after a raucous crowd enjoying a card with the likes of Idolo, Anibal, Ray Mendoza, Blue Demon and Huracán Ramírez). It all appeared that one last big gate was never to be seen again.


Thus, Sandokan/Anibal packing GNP to the literal rafters three years after all these restrictions is most impressive, considering fans were pushing through the gates and hanging on, peeping through the doorways of the stadium to get a glimpse of the fight. Estimates put the total attendance just shy of the 20,000 mark. If true, it would be the third highest gate in Panamanian history, behind only Idolo/Guajardo and a basketball match from 1970. While I’m quick to sing the praises of Don Medine, Samy de la Guardia is the single man responsible for two of those gates.


Many fans walked into the stadium that night with a smirk. Idolo bested Guajardo, now it was Sandokan’s turn to send another “Aztec” packing. Despite a seemingly relatively short build to the mask match, Sandokan was deftly familiar with Anibal’s gameplan by now, having teamed in 1975 against a who’s who of Panamanian and Mexican stars.

However, Sandokan, having dominated the match, found himself facing a shocking defeat. Harnessing a surge of momentum,and probable hubris, in the final caida, he hurled himself towards his opponent in a suicide dive. However, Anibal, with his agile reflexes, evaded the attack, leaving Sandokan to collide harshly with his shoulder on the unforgiving edge of the ring. This brutal impact barred Sandokan from re-entering the ring within the vital 20-second window.

The gymnasium descended into an eerie silence, a wave of disbelief sweeping over the crowd as they witnessed their champion's unexpected downfall. The glory of the night was begrudgingly conceded to Anibal, hailed as one of the greatest wrestlers in the annals of Mexican wrestling. On that fateful night, the crowd watched as Sandokan, their fallen hero, solemnly removed his mask for the first and only time in his illustrious career, surrendering it to Anibal - The Blue Arrow.

As the fans left the building dejected at the loss of their hero, many wrestlers rushed to Sandokan backstage to belittle him for his choice. Many of his closest colleagues would go on to say his career was over. The money may have been good but this defeat would prove the “sunset of his stardom” as Samy recalled overhearing in the locker room.

Yet, one voice would prove prophetic. Bienvenido Cueto, the main referee to the mask match, was the lone man saying Sandokan was on his way to superstardom. He was right. His injury made him a national hero. A hero that valiantly fought for Panamanian pride and succumbed not due to lack of skill but due to something outside his control.


Hot off the loss, Anibal/Sandokan would be the tinder that started the blaze that became the Torneo Internacional de Parejas. Teaming with El Idolo, the tournament cemented itself on the histories of Panama vs Mexico, with Anibal having unmasked Sandokan and Septiembre Negro shaving El Idolo bald  (not that you’d know as he never dropped his mask!). With huge match-ups against Wagner/Negro, Ultraman/Anibal and Lagarde/Guajardo (the latter Sandokan had real-life beef with), the tournament was a huge success for Empresa Coliseo and further cemented Idolo and Sandokan as sporting a-listers.


In singles competition, red would face blue a further three times in June 1977, 1981 (for Sandokan’s world title) and finally in January 1993 when Anibal made his last trip to Panama during the twilight years of his own career. Struck by cancer, and riddled by financial woes, Anibal took one last pay-off to settle the books with Sandokan in a match billed “the final battle”.

Word of Anibal’s mask loss to Máscara Año 2000 13 months prior already had fans uneasy with the stipulation. For many, it was seen as lip service and a quick check for those involved, especially Anibal who had “prostituted” himself (to quote one fan). However, no anger prior would match those of the fans once the final whistle blew. Sandokan’s arm was raised in victory but fans were livid. He won via countout, the same way he had lost 17 years earlier. With kayfabe still very much en vogue, fans smelt a rat. To make matters worse, there appeared to be a miscommunication between Anibal and the referee, leading to the referee having to jump a few seconds to call the countout.

Blood pouring from his face, Sandokan had to be quickly escorted from the arena as a riot unfolded. Fans trashed the stadium before moving onto nearby government buildings. Nothing was safe from their wrath as the national guard had to be called to quell the mob. While harsh in tone, the Sandokan/Anibal feud would forever be mired by chants of “fraude” whenever you ask them about it.  

Nearing fifty, Sandokan’s career was far from its nascent but he still continued to fanfare until his retirement, holding a few more world titles and taking the hairs of Tahur, Gálvez and (apparently) Mexico’s heartthrob Vampiro.

There’s a pretty comprehensive list of his apuesta record on his Luchawiki page, however, there are some notable errors and exclusions. Error: Sandokan took Septiembre Negro’s mask in 1989 not 1985. In terms of exclusions, most importantly, Sandokan took the masks of Guatemalan legend Rayo Chapin, Fishman (dates unknown) and Villano III (circa 1975/1976).

 

At a spry 77, Sandokan still shows great passion for lucha libre in Panama and has spent the past few years trying to grow its fandom once more.

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Tuesday, June 27, 2023

Espectáculos Promociones Panama: The Best Panama Match Yet? Parka! Sandokan! Celestial! Emperador! Idolo! Cirujano! Blood! Chaos!

Sandokan/Celestial/Emperador vs. Principe Island/Cirujano de la Muerte/Idolo

MD: Sometimes I'm cautious on these, because I'm just one voice, but in talking this one over with Graham, my initial thought was that this could have easily landed in the top 20 of the best of the 80s DVDVR Lucha set (you know, if anyone had voted on that). And that's probably too conservative. It's really, really good. If you guys have been on the fence on watching these, well, obviously we think it's all been a worthwhile exercise, but this is especially one to watch. This is a classic, no doubt about it.

Structurally, it's as straightforward as can be until the end. Exchanges, tecnico advantage, rudo beatdown, big comeback, finish. But it hits on all of the marks. Sandokan is such an ace and such a star. It's unquestionable here and he really overachieves even compared to what we've seen him in so far and my personal expectations for him. He's not just a slugger with a couple of big spots (though he IS a slugger with a couple of big spots), but he's on for the entire match. He kicks out multiple variations on armdrags and handsprings and one-against-two bits that I wasn't expecting at all. Everything looks smooth. Most things feel competitive. Even when he's obviously getting some assistance from the rudos, it still looks like he's switching his positioning about and working for it. During the primera exchanges everyone looked good except for maybe Idolo. His stuff was just a bit looser and he barely even eseemed to try in his first one with Emperador. He's supposed to be even a bigger star than Sandokan but we just haven't seen it in the footage yet. Meanwhile, Principe (being LA Park, of course) was flying all over the place and Cirujano was basing big for Celestial and others. Everything built to a raucious stretch of tecnico advantage including a huge wheelbarrow suplex by Sandokan.

The beatdown followed in the segunda, with Idolo getting an advantage in the ropes. They paired off with each rudo using different styles of offense. Idolo had big pro wrestling flourishes, slamming a head into the turnbuckle or leaping feet first onto shoulders in the corner. Cirujano just clubbere down and leaned on people. And Principe was a whirlwind of violence, much of which we miss as he was demolishing Sandokan on the ground. They closed this out with some stretches and a missile dropkick by Principe.

In between falls, Principe clobbered Sandokan with a chair and started to inhale his blood to spit it up into the air, which is about the most glorious and horrific rudo stylings imaginable. To say that Park understood this stuff from a relatively young age would be an understatement. He dove fully into getting as much visceral and visual heat as he possibly could. The match had started with trash strewn everywhere and it made for the perfect setting for this mauling.

Which, of course, led to a spirited comeback, Sandokan firing back and really working for it on the floor, with the crowd ebbing and flowing around him in excitement. We couldn't see everything but we could feel it all, and what we saw (with it seeming like Sandokan was clocking Principe with a shoe) was all great. Just when it seemed like the rudos were going to get their bloody comeuppance, Cirujano and Idolo snatched away Emperador and Celestial's masks and they had to scurry to the back, leaving an momentarily ascendant Sandokan to fight alone, to get the start of a visual submission on Principe, but to ultimately get swept under, absolutely clobbered by what looked to be a plastic drink holder. While I wish we could have more easily followed the action on the floor, if only because Park had a tendency to do outrageous things and take wild bumps, this had absolutely everything I would want from a match like this. The Principe Island vs Sandokan feud is such a lost classic.

GB: I honestly think Matt is underplaying just how great this match is. When he shot the idea to me that this could potentially make the top 20 of the DVDVR 80s Lucha set I said he was underrating things. This is easily the best match we’ve had so far and definitely something to go out of your way to see. An absolute whirlwind of a performance between Sandokan and Parka, who is a fresh 22 years old here. Over on the GWE Discord, this match actually prompted a little discussion that La Parka might actually need to be investigated further as a top 20 GWE case because he has all of these little pockets of matches throughout his career where he really looks like an all-timer. From this, in mid 1988, to the Villano IV match last year, we have 34 years of Parka being an absolute beast of an asskicker (though, albeit, he’s more the acrobatic chickenshit getting his ass steamrolled in Panama but you get the gist!).

Those firmly in his camp will protest that he’s more than just the “dancing skeleton” most mainstream fans know him as. I agree. However, there’s an element to that which makes Parka’s case ever the more compelling. He’s one of the very few wrestlers that can blend comedic wrestling and psychopathic brawling without the one smudging the other. In fact, he might just be the all-time greatest at it. Case in point, he sees his ass on a big tumble to the floor about 9 minutes in here. Fans swarm around him, he’s disoriented and lost so he plays into the moment. He hobbles to the wrong corner, where Sandokan is lying in wait like a shark smelling blood. He gestures his arms into the air with a groaned “dammit!” before a fan has to escort him back to the right side. This all goes on in the background of the match while Idolo and Celestial are trading moves in the ring. One of the biggest legends in Panamanian history, and a 22-year old Parka is stealing the audience’s gaze away from him. Unreal. It was this “IT factor” that helped Parka change a nothing 2-week stay in Panama to a 2-month major programme.

Looking at the history, the Parka in Panama matches are seemingly all across the board so it makes things a little difficult to recap and piece together (I’ll get to a potential stopgap later). It’s also promoted by Junior Mina’s Arena Panamá Mexico so there isn’t much out there.  However, what is crystal clear is that this is Parka’s debut match in Panama and we’re blessed to have gotten it as it kicked off one of the best feuds we’ve never heard of.

From interviews and matching up cards, Parka lost his mask to Sandokan a week before Father’s Day in 1988 at the Neco. That squares up with the 11th June date listed on the (very much incomplete) Sandokan Luchawiki profile. The next week, however, forces me to realise I had the Galvez/Solar feud down to the wrong year. Solar was in Panama in 1986 but feuding with Castro. The Galvez feud kicked off on the 17th of June 1988, the Friday after Parka lost his mask. Interestingly, Solar returned to Panama on the 17th in a tag at Neco opposite the team of Sergio Galvez and Blue Panther. The relation to the Park? Well, the Park/Sandokan feud would intertwine with the Galvez/Solar feud at this point with the tecnicos (Solar/Sandokan) having to stave off the violence of hell’s rudos (Galvez/Parka), a violence that Solar lamented would be him “encountering death”.

Despite losing it, Parka would still don his mask to interviews as a protest to the decision. He also carried with him a tape of the ending to the mask match in which he claims a conspiracy took place. It was all jingoistic bias on the part of the referee, who he says made a calculated, perhaps premeditated, “mistake” to allow Sandokan to win. Much protesting and epithets to Sandokan’s race later, Parka would remove his mask as he was doing so graciously as a “gentleman” that respected the traditions of lucha libre (and not because he agreed with the loss). Sandokan, Parka espoused, had tapped to his hold. All of Panama could see it, and their ruptured hostility was proof enough. The whole of Arena Panama could see it, except the one man that needed to most - Carlos Linares, the referee.

I’m unsure how much time had passed before the title matches against Super Parka and Sandokan but Parka now was scalped. I haven’t seen flyers nor articles to corroborate, but it appears that Super Parka took La Parka’s hair at some point in Panama. Weirdly, La Parka was billed as the older brother of Super Parka (his legitimate uncle). It’s one of the weirder tropes of Panama where names/gimmicks are sacred above logic, and once one gimmick has been debuted everything must follow suit. Much like Gemelos Infernales (Hell’s Twins) being a trio.

To my strained eyes, it appears that Parka’s hair is a smidge more grown out in the title match against Sandokan than it is against Super Parka. Again, this I’ll get to later. By this point, Super Parka is a tecnico, and can be seen as Sandokan’s second in some of the encounters. For Parka, he would be seconded by El Idolo and Nacho Vega in the mask match (the latter known to us already as Mascara Negra) and Exterminador as well as Emperador in others. The latter would be the one to demask Super Parka in Panama a few weeks earlier. Another quirk of Panama would tie in with the Parkas - that being how forgiving fans were of wrestlers. In the Emperador feud, Super Parka was the clear heat-seaker. So much so he was once physically attacked by fans on his way to the ring during the build to the Emperador mask match. This led to the lucha commission forcing action and having the national guard accompany wrestlers to the ring at each show. Yet, here, against Parka, Super Parka was the tecnico. The crowd favourite. A Mexican proudly waving the flag of Panama, claiming them as gracious hosts. In reality, a “turn” only took a handshake after the loss of their mask or hair. An acceptance that they weren’t the better wrestler that day and a thanking of the fans for coming out in support of the fight. A mask/hair loss was Panama’s reset button. That’s all Super Parka needed as his get out of jail (hospital) free card to curry favour with the locals. Note La Parka’s antagonisms and vitriol when he loses his mask against Sandokan. It directly flew in the face of what was expected of him. He was an out of control brat and he played that up perfectly. Ricardo Pitti would label La Parka as “volatile” and “excessively energetic”. The absolute perfect foil to the fiery babyface Sandokan.

As for the title in question, Parka is the current title holder of the UWA Intercontinental Heavyweight Championship and Panama’s Middleweight Championship (the title he brings to the ring). The UWA title was never officially recognised by the UWA but it was seen as a title of significant value in Guatemala (given legitimacy by local legend Astro de Oro being the first challenger and then first to capture the title in 1987). Parka beat Astro de Oro for the title on July 24th 1988. A month after Sandokan took La Parka’s mask. As mentioned, Parka was fully expected to be a Guatemala staple at this point, having finished off his short visit to Panama. However, he got over so quickly as a heel that he found himself oscillating between fighting Sandokan in Panama and Astro de Oro in Guatemala - the two biggest legends of South America at the time.

It’s here that I can potentially offer a little bit of a quickfix to the gaps in our Parka in Panama programme. Select Mexican wrestlers would travel around South America honing their craft and finding themselves in quite familiar programmes wherever they went (notably so with Parka). Thus, I’m going to outline the feud with Astro de Oro in Guatemala. What lines up lines up, what differs differs but it’s all hopefully, at worst, a look into very young Parka’s start and, at best, a glimpse into the bigger picture of the feud in Panama.

The feud began with Parka coming into Guatemala as the cocky upstart, bludgeoning an unexpecting Astro de Oro and Arriero de San Juan into pieces in his debut on the 10th of July 1988. He was accompanied by Verdugo, who had a massive chip on his shoulder after his then teammate, Arriero, turned tecnico on him. Despite the heat between Arriero and Verdugo, it was Parka that took things a step beyond by cutting up Astro and leaving him a bloody mess on the mat. Parka’s win, and performance, had him splashed across national newspapers. As quickly as he got over in Panama, Parka was a massive exclamation point in Guatemala now. He had, thus, quickly earned himself a title shot against Astro de Oro (which would play out after a bloody mano a mano “wager” shortly after the tag debut). This wager was a relatively stakeless match (in other words no titles or masks on the line) but was about betting their pride, a “put up or shut up” if you will. Astro de Oro had never been defeated in this match and, yet, Parka beat him. This, in theory, plays sister to the Sandokan/Parka singles Matt has already covered with the only caveat being the roles are reversed (Sandokan absolutely destroys Parka and not the other way around).

As the record books show, Astro de Oro lost their title match. Again making Parka the first luchador to do so. Much the same in Panama with Sandokan, the pride of Guatemala had been made a fool by the punk, La Parka. Parka, greedy for more, offered an all-in with Astro. If Astro ever wanted to see the title again, he would have to bet his mask (and permanent retirement) against it. Astro, who already had his tail between his legs seeing no other choice, agreed. While Parka dropped his mask to Sandokan before the title match, I believe the stipulation for the Sandokan/Parka title match was of a similar nature.

In opposite to Panama (though to the sentiments of the DQs), the referee in the mask match here was firmly in Parka’s back pocket. Parka blindsided Astro in the corridors of the arena on his way to the ring, incessantly beating him with a chain until he burst open with blood. As Astro attempted to make his comeback by grabbing the chain from Parka, referee César Rivas confiscated the weapon. While Rivas was distracted, Parka faked a foul which had disqualified Astro, leaving him a fall behind. The fight would continue, as both men bathed in blood by this point. Parka tried multiple times to escape but he, and his mask, would fall to a merciless, rope-aided piledriver by Astro - much like he would to a merciless rope-aided electric chair from Sandokan. Adolfo Tapia Ibarra, the Island prince, the assassin, the skeleton of death, had lost his mask but he had found himself. And so the whirlwind of violence we’ve come to love was unleashed.

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Tuesday, May 02, 2023

Espectáculos Promociones Panama: El Idolo! Celestial!

MD: Quick note before we begin. I've been posting for a bunch of years now, and this has been just a really great outlet for me. I wouldn't be here without Phil or Eric certainly. But I also wouldn't be if not for Dean Rasmussen and years of reading and interacting with his singular, joyful take on pro wrestling. He finds the great in the good and the sublime in the terrible. I'm sure most people who read Segunda Caida have seen this already, but if you saw it and didn't click or clicked and hesitated and didn't give yet, please do so now and keep him and his family in your thoughts. Thanks. 

El Idolo vs Celestial

MD: One of the best things I can say about the older footage here is that when you see these guys, you immediately want to know more about them. That's true whether it's Sergio Galvez or Sandokan or Gemelo Infernal II. It's true here with Idolo. There's something about the way he carries himself, a hand gesture (maybe teasing his claw strike?), how he'll get knocked out of the ring and duck away to avoid the potential of a Celestial dive but then lean into the heat he's getting by charging at the crowd. To a big degree, he presented himself as a star and you get the impression that the fans bought into it.

This was in three falls. The first was mostly back and forth wrestling and while it flowed, you'd maybe want just a bit more contact and torque on some of the holds (even for the style) and counters. That was probably true throughout the match. The things that felt more like "spots" didn't work nearly as well as the outright violence. Said violence began right after the end of the first fall with Idolo crashing Celestial's head into the post and never really let up. They did a good job of having Celestial fight back, capitalizing on Idolo's mistakes, only to make a mistake of his own. Sometimes that was a missed elbow drop; sometimes it was getting overzealous by biting through the mask or swinging a chair and rushing into a counter-shot. Idolo had a range of offense, including a Gilbert-ian hotshot, a drop down off the top into a sitting vertical splash, and a great charging knee while Celestial was sitting in the ropes (he missed the second and went careening to the floor; one of those bits of hope for Celestial). The finish was gnarly, with Celestial charging in too headstrong and getting pressed up into a face first posting, of the sort that could work in lots of other settings but that you never see exactly at that particular angle. Post match, Idolo went after the mask and a gentleman apparently called Máscara Negra made the save. This felt like a solid stop on the road to something bigger.

GB: Latin American wrestling fascinates me. There’s a lot of fluff. A lot of sentiment. A lot of rose-tinted glasses to this stuff but it’s all captivating in one way or the other. There’s such a rich, diversified history to it all just waiting to be untapped, with anecdotes and matches that sometimes seem to challenge what we already know. For instance, the story goes that El Hijo del Santo made his Mexican debut as El Korak in February 1982 without his father's blessing and was only given the gimmick in October of the same year. However, contrary to this, the young wrestler had already been honing his skills as El Hijo del Santo in the Dominican Republic a year earlier! This being the same country that gave us the lore of Flair/Veneno. Despite Flair’s insistence of it being an impromptu switch to stave off a riot, it was an ending that was, in total premeditated detail, used to drive both an already planned out rematch between Flair/Veneno and heat up the ongoing Veneno/Relampago storyline.

Controversy and contradiction follows history. In Panama, perhaps none more so than for El Idolo. In contradiction, whether it’s Sandokan or El Idolo, promoters, fans and newspapers seemingly disagree on who Panama’s biggest star was. Either way, El Idolo would rack up an impressive number of apuesta matches against a litany of local and international wrestlers. 40 masks and 38 hairs, in total. 78-0 is an impressive number and while not quite Super Muñeco level, it’s certainly the highest I’ve seen in Panama by quite some way. In controversy, El Idolo would lose his mask to El Olimpico on December 16th 1973. Having been unmasked, Ricardo Diaz threw a towel over Idolo before the press could snap his picture. Sandokan and Diaz would then rush Idolo back to the dressing rooms to remask. When he returned, the Neco de la Guardia erupted. Their hero was back. Idolo wouldn’t accept the loss and the crowd “pardoned” him to wear his mask once more - never to lose it again. Of course, El Idolo maintains, to his dying breath, he won the hair of Olimpico that day.

As for his origins, El Idolo got his feet wet with wrestling in the late 1950s, before debuting on the national stage in March 1962 as a substitute for the slightly famous wrestler, "La Amenaza",  who no-showed an event due to stomach flu. With the promoter furious, El Idolo lavished the opportunity and asked to take his place. "If you have the equipment and mask, enter and fight," replied the promoter. The young Idolo put on a mask, took the place and name of "La Amenaza" (in English: the threat), and won. A fitting name to a wrestler who would go on to dominate the landscape for the next thirty seven years and retired holding the World Middleweight Championship, a title he first won in 1970 from the journeyman Steve Clements.

The more I read about El Idolo, the more I liken him to El Hijo del Santo in the manner in which he took his matches. What I mean by that is Idolo was a true babyface that fought adversity and persevered through pain. The audience lived and died on every blow he absorbed and every drop of blood he poured. They would hang on with bated breath for his comebacks and eventual finisher, a kneeling firemans’ carry into a piledriver. A rather inventive move he’d keep on hand whenever his opponent swooped in for their coup de grâce. This move was the ace up his sleeve and would see him victorious over many Mexican luchadores, most notably Perro Aguayo and Espectro II. It would be fitting, then, that Sergio Gálvez would go on to become his career rival. Fans would come in their thousands to watch Gálvez massacre Idolo and for their bloodsoaked hero to triumphantly fight back, despite doctors trying to restrain him and call the match off.

Unlike most other wrestlers in Panama, El Idolo made good money from the sport. One would think with its success in popularity, money would be more free-flowing but most had to see lucha libre as a hobby to pursue and not a means of making ends meet. This financial freedom allowed El Idolo to pursue a career in education where he used his position as a physical education teacher to bring “lucha libre” to schools and hoped to inspire the future generation of  wrestlers.

What most set El Idolo apart from others, though, was something that couldn’t be taught. Again, while promoters will argue between Sandokan and Idolo as the country’s biggest attraction, none seem to argue that Idolo was the most charismatic of all Panamanian luchadores. While Idolo comes off as a star in this match, I’m not sure if we quite get the full sense of how big a star he really was in this footage. That said, I’m not quite sure we should be getting the sense of anything this early into our journey. I had mentioned to Matt that a lot of these wrestlers are Olympically trained athletes. Idolo was a very successful amateur wrestler who moved to professional wrestling out of novelty alongside encouragement from Shazán. They should be skilled technicians yet it doesn’t quite play out that way in their holds. Everything seems a little light. It’s more about “appearance” than “execution”. There’s no torque as Matt puts it in his review. Nevertheless, I've also noticed that in a lot of the other South American wrestling I've watched. I don't want to give bad work a pass but I also don't want to dismiss something without knowing the whys first. It's quite the quandary I have. It’s something I hope we can pursue and understand as this journey progresses. After all, it’s naive to approach a style that is, in many ways, novel with old lenses.

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Friday, January 27, 2023

Found Footage Friday: BRAZOS~! IN~! PANAMA~! MURDOCH~! ABBY~!

Abdullah the Butcher vs. Dick Murdoch AJPW 7/14/83

MD: Past one hold and one big, earthshattering move (more on these in a minute) this is around ten minutes of great strikes, including the post-match brawling after Murdoch got sick of it all and tossed and atomic elbow smashed the ref when he tried to get in the way of revenge smashing of Abdullah in the corner. Murdoch made good use of those downwards elbows and some great standing tall punches. Abdullah is, of course, the master of the block and cut-off strike, but Murdoch managed a great block of his own early so he could start firing back with fists to the skull; he even made sure to sell his fist after a punch late in the game. Abby, on the other hand, came back with crushing headbutts and a ton of inside shots. That hold? Not the usual nervehold, but Abby wrenching on both ears at once (he'd even target an ear with shots afterwards), and that big move? After Murdoch survived the elbow, he was able to catch Abby off the rope with a slam. He hit his own elbow after, but only for two. Simple and basic and primal. Exactly what you'd want between these two.

ER: I've seen this variation of The Dick Murdoch Match so many times, and cannot see ever tiring of it. Two men punching and elbowing each other around the ring, staggering, holding their faces, throwing 90% arm strikes but never seeming to throw anything the same way twice. It's punching and throat thrusting and headbutts and 12 to 6 elbows but at no point does it turn into any kind of rhythmic exchange, it's just them knocking each other around their own private 324 square foot stage. The joy of seeing all of these punches and strikes is equal to how well each man sells these punches and strikes. Dick knew how to let each punch and elbow breathe, and Abby knew how to sell each one like it was doing the damage you'd expect. The way Abby holds his jaw, drops to his knee, teeters backward, is minimalist but all fine attention to detail. 

These are tough men, and seeing them just throw back and forth would surely be entertaining, but nowhere near as interesting as watching them take a hit, react to that hit, and try to get off a hit as a means of fending off the next one. Abby is a great counter-striker, and I love how he uses counter strikes to set up worse strikes, like slashing at Dick's throat to drop him to a knee, then rushing in with a downward aimed punch right into the ear. The whole match is moments like that, and then Murdoch throws a referee into a too-fast bump to the floor. You might say that these men don't look like athletes, and you'd be correct. But these men move like beautiful trained dancers. Mr. Narrator, this is Baryshnikov to me.  



MD: Winner of this match would receive a title shot against no one less than the Brazos, who had won the titles against Los Misioneras de la Muerte, so we're holding out hope that feud shows up too. Really though, all of this stuff is an amazing discovery and I'm so glad it's popping up regularly now. They had run some angles to take out Gemelo 3 on the rudo side and someone on the tecnico side to slip in some slightly bigger partners because you need some big guys against the Brazos apparently. We're starting to hit critical mass on this footage where we should have some more sense about who Celestial or Idolo were as workers. What I can tell you, and I think previous matches back this up, is that one of the Gemelos is super smooth (had a great pairing with Celestial) and the other is a huge heatseeker. Ursus was larger and played the strength card, kind of reminding me of an Ivan Putski that could move somewhat better. To put it into perspective, he won the last fall with a bearhug. That was the big triumphant moment. During the initial beatdown, the Gemelos were great in dual headbutting him.

This had initial exchanges and then broke down and stayed broken down for the rest of the match. They did a false comeback from the tecnicos to set up the finish of the first fall and then a real one in the second that just sort of seemed to go on and on. There was a ton of mask ripping, maybe some blood, and just outright chaos for ten minutes or so. The tecnico win was big and celebratory, a testament to the crowds in Panama but made all the sweeter due to the stakes of the match and the fact that they'd now be able to face the Brazos.



MD: As best we can tell, this is NOT the title match (even though we have the promos for that, including the Brazos being very serious and respectful) but a revancha for the tecnicos that followed. If I'm totally honest, there are things I would have liked to see just a little bit different in the third fall, but overall, this more than lived up to my expectations. This was in an outdoor stadium and you get the sense that there was a big crowd somewhere in there even if they weren't swarming the ringside area and even if we couldn't see them in the stands. They were vocal, especially when the action went way over the top. The Brazos were keen to start a riot too, rushing out of the ring at the start to stall and jaw with the fans.

After that, it was all action for the first two falls, Brazo getting an early advantage and just beating the local heroes down in a big way, using their size and the numbers game whenever they'd try to fight back. It all built to Porky crushing people off the top rope and with a huge senton (after which he lounged for the pin). The second fall kept the beatdown going. There was some crazy stuff on the outside with Oro and Idolo (who was the singles champ in Panama at this point) with Oro just chucking the stairs at him and when the comeback happened, the fans went nuts as Idolo just charged through chairs at him. Everyone seemed to want to get their hands on Oro as Celestial and Idolo both tore him apart. Speaking of tearing apart, the Brazos masks were left in tatters to the point where they were either falling off or you could just clearly see who these guys were. It was a great comeback though and the fans were up for it. 

The tercera was more straightforward, with the Brazos continuing to struggle heading towards the big revancha win. I would have liked to see more of their usual antics if they were going to go that route, or some other big moments in here (like Ursus slamming Porky maybe?), but the fans were pretty happy with what they got, including a pile on for one pin and some violent chaos at the finish. Post match there were challenges made on the mic and it's safe to say the Brazos fit right in here. Hopefully we get the title match and even more.

ER: This didn't have the sky high peaks of most vintage Brazos matches, but it revealed totally different joys just because of the different setting, different motivations, and an almost bare bones look at what made the Brazos such a perfect trios team. We even got a little look at Los Brazos doing some warm up stretches backstage before the match, and I think this entire 40 minutes of footage is worth it just to see Porky's impeccable form on his Hindu push-ups. Also, this footage reveals that Ursus looks exactly like Volador Jr., and now that we KNOW that Volador Sr. was traveling to Panama to wrestle...well, I think we can at minimum start wondering what Volador was up to down there, in the same way that Morishima made us wonder what Terry Gordy was up to during Japan tours. The primera was some classic Brazos, with the boys bullying the tecnicos all over the stadium. 

This never got to full on foreign riot levels but just knowing that Porky could have caused a Panamanian wrestling riot makes me so happy. He hits a balloon popping top rope splash on Ursus and a full weight running back splash senton, but a press slam hot shot on Celestial was probably the nastiest thing they did, and it all ruled. Brazos are a great team on offense, but I always love how they act once the tecnicos turn the tides. Suddenly you see Oro getting thrown through all of the ringside chairs, all of their masks torn and falling off, and the absolute king Porky doing the most hilarious selling of a bearhug that you've seen. Ursus holding up Porky in a bearhug is already a fun spot, but it goes on far longer than you'd think. Porky was up in the air milking all of it, waving and flapping and swimming with his arms, flying like a chubby bird and playing it all the way to the back. These boys. My heart. 


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