They get you every time with those retro discs. You pop in an old Wrestlemania or Summerslam. You hear the unmistakable Latin rhythm of Tito Santana's music. You know you're about to get a great match. Then Jesse Ventura ruins it with one word: Chico. Wrestling has always been a weird mirror of society. The problem is it is often a mirror into the past, at least in terms of race relations. Whether commentators were writing their own burrito jokes or Vince McMahon was privately feeding them lines while publicly pooh-poohing their actions, it doesn't really matter. It was indefensible, then or now. Santana was an amazing technical wrestler with an uncanny ability to work a crowd. He could work a fast-paced match, but was best at building suspense. He appeared in the first nine WrestleManias, and was a solid utility player during his time in the WWF. He was Intercontinental Champion and a World Tag Team Champion, but never quite made it to the top. More enlightened attitudes may have helped sway his career in another direction. Instead, WWF turned him into "El Matador," and gave him a bullfighting gimmick years after fans knew him as the high-flying dude with long hair and a white T-shirt. His matches are fantastic. Watch as many as you can. Just prepare to roll your eyes at the commentary.
Check out "The Champ" by my alter ego, Greg Forrest, in Heater #12, at http://fictionmagazines.com.
I used to do a mean Glenn Danzig impression. Now I just hang around and co-host The Workprint podcast at http://southboundcinema.com/.
