First off, let me tap the microphone.
If you haven't, go read the damn Big Egg review. Come back here after.
There are lots of reviews of this match, right? What none of them mention is that this one does the best thing in wrestling that any wrestlers can do. They both go into this one for themselves.
You see, though. I didn't know about this match before I rewatched this match for the project was that this match was probably very certainly a gentleman's agreement of sorts, not a typical wager, but one so dramatic and purposeful it just makes the match so much better.
They obviously came in wanting to lose their damn jobs. They don't like it here, this is a damn statement. This isn't even a damn statement—this is a damn war. Hell, this match was even no disqualifications.
You know what happens? They spill into the crowd, they bleed, they run a damn blade, Rush handles a footlocker and throws it at LA Park. There is no angel here, there is no devil here, it is a damn statement of death.
They're trying to break all of Arena Mexico's rules.
They throw everything at each other, Rush tears at Park's mask, the referee calls for a disqualification in this no disqualification match, and the crowd throws garbage.
You can control one rabid animal, try controlling thousands of bloodthirsty, ravenous dogs. The damn staff keep trying to shut them down, trying to cue lots of things, but you can never stop a native heart from beating its heart to the drum that desperately calls it. Even when Rush picks up the microphone to drop it to call again.
They just don't quit.
Arena Mexico is visited by thousands of tourists each year, and it's become a family attraction for a great lucha libre show. I live in New York City, a native part of New York City, not your fancy Manhattan or downtown Brooklyn. Yet, they slowly encroach upon us. You know what this match says?
Mother fuck your tourists, go shove them back to the hole where they crawled out from. To be honest? I fucking agree. Fuck those tourists, fuck their rules, and fuck everything that they could ever possibly stand for.
This ain't a fancy show, this is real life.
Just a smidgen below the fancy enthralling mat work of Dandy vs. Azteca, yet one of the most beautiful indirect mission statements of all time.