Monday May 24, 2004
“It's only after we've lost everything, that we're
free to do anything.”
-Tyler
Durden
I’ve got to take it easy out there. Five minutes after my match on
Crossfire I was in the back pissing blood.
That moonsalt took a lot out of me. I don’t really know what I was thinking... I guess I
got caught up in the moment. That seems to happening to me a lot lately. Whenever I’m
out in the ring I seem to lose my focus. I’m forgetting why I came back and that could
be dangerous… fatal.
It’s a shame I didn’t begin my career this way, here in RW. I went toe to toe with a
veteran like Riggs and came out on top. Any normal wrestler in my position would be
thrilled right now. I however am filled with a sense of nervous anticipation. Anticipation
because I know this is not going to end well. Nothing ever does for me.
Our flight to Mexico was pretty much uneventful. No customs, no duty free shop, not even a
little bag of roasted almonds.
Once again we touched down in a small field, far away from the prying eyes of any law
enforcement types. I’m not sure if WidowMaker got a kick out of this cloak and dagger
stuff. I did at first, however by this point I was just getting sick of the whole
situation.
After hitching a ride with one of the guys who helped unload the cargo plane we found our
way to the place that would be our home for the next little while. Yet another gym. Unlike
our training center in Japan this one was active, very active. The parking lot was full
and there was a ton of activity. The building itself was also unlike our Japanese home. It’s
walls were cracked and in desperate need of a paint job. From the outside it looked like a
shit hole.
But, as they say, you can’t judge a book by it’s cover.
By this time I was feeling much better. WidowMaker had informed me on the plane that we
were once more going to be on our own, and that his brother would not be joining us for a
while. That calmed me down somewhat, but it also set my sub conscious into overdrive. I
knew he was coming, but I didn’t know when. A fact like that could slowly drive a person
insane… or at least fill him with nervous anticipation.
As we entered the gym I wasn’t sure what to expect. I thought WM would stand out like a
sore thumb. After all how often do you see a guy walking around in a black leather mask
during the day?
Stupid question… We were in a Luchador training center. Almost everyone was wearing a
mask. Other then the fact that he was well over seven feet tall we blended in quite
nicely.
We pushed our way inside. Most of the people in the building were crowded around the large
wrestling ring that was located in the southern part of the building. In the center of the
ring stood a man in a mask. That man was Gill Mascara.
Lucha libre had been popular in Mexico for a while when the Mexican film industry got the
idea of putting real life masked wrestlers into films. The concept of an athlete whose
mask makes him a faceless force for justice was intriguing to film executives and movie
goers alike.
One day as promotional hype for their wrestling title, a firm devised a new wrestler, one
that would not just wear one, but one thousand masks. Due to his impressive physique and
athletic ability, Gill was picked to fill the role. Possessing a polished delivery and a
smooth, confident screen presence, Gill Mascara proved to be one of the more effective
lucha film heroes.
Typically, the plots of Gill Mascara's films ran the gamut from battles against ambitious
criminals to slugfests with monsters. Then later on to Martians, vampires, and other
incredible creatures became the new wave of evil to be vanquished.
While Gill also had quite an impressive wrestling career (including being the first
Mexican wrestler to perform at Madison Square Garden, and a pioneer in establishing the
popularity of lucha style wrestling in Japan) it will always be his work in film that he
will be remembered for.
This was the man who would become my second mentor.
We stood with all the others and listened to Gill tell an anecdote about the old days. At
this point I could not speak Spanish, I could tell by his delivery and the reaction of the
crowd that is was a rather amusing story. He had them all in the palm of his hand and they
were hanging on his every word. As I said, I couldn’t speak the language and even I
found myself laughing and enjoying the performance of this older gentleman.
When it was over most of the people watching gave him a polite round of applause and went
back to whatever it was they were doing before. WM motioned to me and we moved towards the
ring. Suddenly I was overcome with a feeling of comfort. I was going to enjoy my time in
Mexico much more then I did in Japan. I was going to enjoy working with Gill.
As we moved towards him, Gill called to one of the other men in the gym. He climbed into
the ring with us and stood by Gill’s side.
“It is a great pleasure to meet you both.” Gill said.
WidowMaker nodded in response.
“We have rooms set up for both of you upstairs. When you are ready Salvador here will
show you the way.”
The man beside Gill nodded and smiled. At least I think he smiled. Like Gill he too wore a
mask.
“Gill has asked me to help with you training.” Salvador said with a deep accent.
“We wish to begin now.” Was the only thing that WM said.
Gill looked over at Salvador and spoke a few words in
Spanish. Salvador turned to us and asked us to follow him.
As we walked I managed to strike up a conversation with the young man. His name was
Salvador Zenon. He was a young and upcoming star on the Mexican wrestling scene that went
by the name of Halcón Del Ébano.
Salvador was truly a beautiful man. Smooth dark skin and a well defined body. While his
English wasn’t very good I could tell that his deep masculine voice had melted the
hearts of many young senoritas. |

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He told me that it was he who would be training me personally and
that Gill would be spending most of his time with WidowMaker. While I was looking forward
to working with Mascara, the idea of spending most of my time with Salvador made me smile
to myself.
We approached the rooms and Salvador opened the door for me.
“This is where you will stay.” He told me. “As for you…”
“I stay here as well.” WidowMaker shot out coldly.
I turned to look at my companion. His eyes were full of rage… Hate… I honestly didn’t
know what to say. I turned back to Salvador and I could tell he sensed it too.
“Very well. I will come back for you in 5 minutes. Then we can begin.” With that
Salvador flashed me a smile and walked out if the room. WidowMaker watched him leave like
a lion watches a zebra.
I tossed my bag on the bed and started to take off my shirt. WidowMaker turned to me.
“Do not forget why we are here. Do not let that…boy… distract you. He is nothing.”
I turned to him a little puzzled.
“He’s only being nice…” I started to say.
“Remember… I own you… You are mine.”
Suddenly I started to feel queasy.
“Perhaps you need a little reminder… perhaps Salvador can assist me…”
I lowered my head and sat down on the bed. I didn’t know what to do or what to say. This
was a side of WM that I knew I didn’t like. The side that filled me with absolute
terror.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Salvador poked his head in.
“Are you ready?”
WidowMaker looked over at me. I nodded and looked to the ground. With that he turned to
Salvador.
“Yes, everything is as it should be.”
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