Until You Witness Lucha Libre, You Might Not Know You’re A Pro Wrestling Fan

Cinco de Mayo: Lucha Libre
May 3-5, 2025
5th and Boston

Every year in early May, the unmistakable crash of body slams on canvas can be heard echoing through Boston Avenue's canyon of art deco decadence, as lucha libre fills the air. 

Lucha Libre—which translates literally to “free fighting” or “free wrestling”—is the term for a storied, unique style of pro wrestling from Mexico. In lucha, wrestlers are luchadores; the most ubiquitous luchadores here in the U.S. are the mascaras, wrestlers who sport elaborate masks that help convey who the characters are and what they fight for. All year round at Elote, Tulsans dine under the visages of lucha legends past and present—El Santo, Blue Demon, Mil Máscaras—and at Cinco de Mayo these mascaras leap off the walls into a large wrestling ring set up in the street right outside the restaurant. 

This year marked Elote’s 16th year of taking over Boston Avenue with lucha libre action, and it was a sight to behold, with 14 hours of pro wrestling over the course of three days. The unceasing hunger of the capitalist maw (AKA a day job) kept me from seeing every match, but I was lucky enough to spend Saturday evening and all afternoon Monday watching some of the most fun professional wrestling matches I've seen in a long time. 

Almost every combatant was a mascara this year. Even wrestlers who normally compete without a mask donned one for the occasion, such as “The Spotlight” Logan Knight, who wrestled under a mask as El Hijo de la Luz, and local favorite Mr. Nasty, who appeared as the masked Super Nasty Nasty. Some of the competitors sold wrestling masks alongside their merch on the sidewalks; kids walked around wearing these as well as paper masks decorated with markers. 

But it wasn’t just kids feeling the lucha love. While many Tulsans might not consider themselves wrestling fans, thousands of people make Elote’s Lucha Libre an annual tradition. (The truth is that everyone is a pro wrestling fan; most just don't realize it yet.) Part of the appeal: lucha libre is a radically immersive experience. Unlike watching televised pro wrestling at home, going to see matches live allows audiences to take part in the show by cheering for the babyfaces (the heroes) and booing the heels (the villains). 

During several matches over the weekend, whenever our heroes were hurting, the crowd rallied together and helped them power back up. On Saturday night, the heel wrestler El Gallardo Uno borrowed my chair to use as a weapon against Dove Puro, but when he was done with it, his masked manager politely returned my seat to me. On Saturday night, a wrestler named Party Boy Tommy saved us from a crew of masked pirates, and on Monday afternoon, he defended the honor of Hornsby (yes, the Tulsa Drillers mascot was in attendance) when he was accosted by another wrestling blue bull. On both occasions Party Boy Tommy fought with only one hand, an ice cold beer in the other. 

Part of the allure of lucha libre is its marriage of theatricality and technical skill. Some mascaras swing more in one direction than the other; the most technically-sound and hard-hitting match I saw was between El Hijo de la Luz and El Superstar, two athletes who let loose and tore it up in the afternoon sun. But by far, the most over-the-top match of the weekend was Osito vs. El Dorado on Monday night, with Osito, in a black-and-white panda-themed mask, provoking the loudest and most enthusiastic cheers of the whole electric weekend. 

The pacing and drama of a lucha fight is like nothing else in sports, and this one was a stunner. (Eagle-eyed fans might have noticed that the pompous El Dorado bears an uncanny resemblance to Osito's partner in another team called Los Rudosos, which might explain their incredible in-ring chemistry.) El Dorado—a cocky film star with a thick Australian accent—came to the ring so slowly he had to be announced three different times. He sauntered in wearing black and gold, holding a camcorder up to the audience as he passed. He was confronted and challenged by the plucky Osito, who came to the ring and cut a passionate promo, promising fans "I'm gonna kick this dude's butt, then we're gonna party all night." 

The crowd broke into chants of “Panda! Panda! Panda!” but the odds tipped in El Dorado's favor when he introduced Ace of Pain, another heel wrestler biased in his favor, who would serve as special guest referee (in pro wrestling, this always means a match will not be called fairly down the middle). At one point, Osito had clearly put his arrogant opponent away and was ready to secure the victory, but Ace of Pain refused to count the final three and give him the win.  

Suddenly recovering, El Dorado produced a comically large zip-lock baggie full of white powder (they call it “Hobo Powder”). He attempted to throw a giant snowball of this stuff at Osito, but the panda ducked, and El Dorado accidentally dusted Ace of Pain directly in the face. This icing miraculously turned the ref from a heel into a babyface and Ace of Pain happily counted the three when Osito once again triumphed over El Dorado. El Dorado attempted to settle the score by firing a green powder cannon at his opponent but accidentally shot himself in the crotch, covering himself with the evidence of this defeat. Osito celebrated to great fanfare, leaving his formerly confident opponent now limping away slowly with embarrassing battle scars. 

The weekend’s other most incredible spectacle happened on Saturday evening. Between matches, instructors from Giddy Up Two Step taught the crowd a partnered line dance while several of the masked wrestlers filled the ring to help demonstrate the moves. One of these wrestlers—dressed as a banana and wearing a yellow-gold mask—froze in fear halfway through the lesson when a gorilla began hungrily circling the ring. The gorilla found a seat next to the commentary booth and settled there for the remainder of the dance, but the banana had trouble concentrating from this point on.

After the dance, most of the mascaras filed out of the ring. Banana alone stayed behind and began throwing ripe bananas into the cheering crowd—but soon enough, he was challenged by the gorilla, and the next match of the evening was set. The ref had to hold the eager gorilla back, but as soon as the bell rang, all hell broke loose. Gorilla exploded across the ring to tackle Banana. This wasn’t a wrestling match—it was a fast and physical brawl between mortal enemies. This was a blood feud. 

Both combatants laid heavy haymakers on their opponents and spent much of the fight on the mat, struggling more than grappling. The more agile Banana was able, at times, to out-maneuver the brute force and silver-back strength of Gorilla (who boasts a 100-0 record against men). Once, when able to scurry up to the top rope, Banana landed a beautiful elbow drop, but Gorilla kicked out and fought on.

Gorilla seemed to have the advantage. When he backed a grounded, mushed Banana into a corner, the match seemed decided. But Banana had one last trick: he pulled out his one remaining banana and offered it to his foe. While Gorilla paused his onslaught to eat the smaller banana, the larger masked Banana used the distraction to pin the ape and win the match. 

It was an epic fight that epitomized the spirit and skill of lucha libre. But the weekend saw so many excellent battles featuring personal and fan favorites: the reigning Elote Champion, the Lunchador, came to the ring with a giant fork which he eventually used to defeat his reviled challenger and former friend El Superstar; Dove Puro and El Gallardo Uno put on a series of highly physical and hard-hitting matches against one another, with Puro's powerful slams grounding the quicker, high-flying Uno; and Eddie Le Vaughn and El Sharko put on what can only be described as a hoss fight—and a delightful hoss fight it was. 

As the weekend came to an end, former wrestler turned announcer and commentator Abra Kadaver promised lucha libre next year and “every year forever forever forever forever forever.” I certainly hope so. I’ll see you at the matches next May.