Sent in by Kristian Almgren.
Have you ever laughed in the face of death? Well, this past Sunday I actually threw a couple back in the face of death. Well, what I thought was the face of death. It was hard to tell behind that mask. For those of you who don’t have Fun Vampires as your homepage, I am a referring to the Chichara Pro lucha libre style wrestling matches that happen, you guessed it, in south Philly at the old ECW Arena (which was voted “Best [Independent Wrestling] Venue” 2006 by ESPN 2). Despite its multitude of projection screens, intelligent lighting, and freak slobs who take this shit WAYYYY to seriously, it’s still a Ma and Pa operation. Beers are only $3, the pizza is great, and there is even a ban on cursing (remember, the Fun Vampire crew only rolls to family night).

Anyways, we roll up at about 4pm on a shitty Sunday, Hans talks to the door guy and gets us on the list and I think, Sign me up for 5 extra beers! Hurray! The afternoon goes on with some of the best entertainment on the east coast: grown men, wrapped in spandex, adorned with lucha inspired masks that create such characters as Moohamad, a dude dressed up as a fighting cow and UltraMantis Black, I guess he is suppose to be a scary praying mantis? If you can get over the ridiculous costumes (both by the wrestlers and the fans) you would be amazed at some of these moves, and the bouts are fantastic!!

The real excitement did not start until the Triple Main event. In the second match, between Mitch Ryder and Lince Dorado, the loser would either have to shave their head, or have their mask cut. This is some serious shit in the world of Chickara Pro. If only the match ended with just a head shaving or mask cutting.

After a top-rope-acrobatic-neck-crush maneuver on Lince, it was clear to every one that he was injured. He was twitching, but not moving much more than that. At this point, Hans and I were laughing like we were watching a Cohen Bros. movie or something. I mean, its fucking wrestling so a) everything is fake (except the spandex) and b) if you take it to seriously, you should not be on this site right now. While some wrestlers were attending to Linces “medical needs,” the officials brought out a folding chair and starting shaving Mitches beautiful blonde hair. We were preparing ourselves for an all out battle, with everyone else storming the rigng from backstage. Not the fucking case. Hand to god, after about 10 minutes of Lince matte bound, 1 head shaving and 3 beers for me, a deafening hush came over the crowd as 5 or 6 people came running out from back stage to assess the injury. They brought a folding table and towel with them, and we were convinced that this was going to be a battle royal, but no. They took Lince’s mask off, covered his face with a towel (always a smart thing to do if someone fears spinal injuries) and use the table as a stretcher as the carry his lifeless body out of the arena. Right when they get out of the crowds visions, shreeks of horror and moans of agony bellowed from the unseen back stage area.

As pathetic as this is, they actually made an announcement that we are not allowed to exit the building, as it could interfere with the ambulance they had called for Lince.
The fans are now chanting “end the show, end the show.” I now notice the owner (and alleged girlfriend of mine) closing the concession stand (rats, no more beer) and tearing up as she ran franticly to talk to the door guy.

At this point, I could not tell if this was for real or not. I mean, that type of shit must happen right? Like those tricks could go horribly, horribly wrong with devastating outcomes. But for some reason, that made it even funnier! Long story long, we hear an ambulance come, leave, and we are let out into south Philly with the instructions to check the website to check his condition. Definitely the best $15 of entertainment one could spend on a Sunday.

RESULTS