Why Wrestling Masks Are More Than a Halloween Costume Accessory
It’s that time again. That time when we dress up in crazy costumes, celebrate all things creepy, and feast on enough sweets to make at least ten new diabetes. When it comes to straightforward costume ideas that drive the point home, they don’t get any more simple and effective than a good mask. In many cases, that’s all you really need. Team it with a T-shirt and jeans, and you’re good to go! While I’m sure they generate far more sales during Halloween season, in the wacky world of professional wrestling, the mask is a white hot accessory year-round.
The mask fits right into the ultra imaginative and colorful environment that is wrestling, where larger than life personalities command the stage. These days, we tend to associate it with iconic grapplers such as Rey Mysterio Jr. But in my early days of fandom, masked wrestlers were mainly jobbers. Jabronis. Or as me and my cousin would call ’em, “the weak guys”. When you saw a guy like Agent Steel in the ring, you pretty much knew that the dude standing across from him was racking up the win in squash-match fashion.
Slowly but surely, I was introduced to the Konnans and Jushin Thunder Ligers of the wrestling world. Guys who not only wore more fascinating masks, but were actually badass. This is when I started to realize that masks had an even greater significance to wrestling lore.
While they’re iconic enough in America and fairly common in the orient, wrestling masks are undeniably most popular in Mexico. In simpler times, Mexican villagers often wore them while performing in Saint’s Day parades. These masks were typically made of bone, wood, and cloth and could represent anything from ancient Hispanic gods to demons and death itself. Many believed that a mask not only hid your identity, but transformed you in a way that unearthed the god-like powers and abilities of the entities they represented. Can you say “Lucha Underground”?
The popularity of masks and their transformative aura carried over to pro wrestling or lucha libre, which is the second biggest sport in Mexico, just behind soccer. El Santo, widely regarded as the godfather of lucha libre, donned a mask both in and out of the ring. Whether on the streets or on a movie set, he never revealed his true identity. Combined with his natural charisma and talent, this dedication led to El Santo becoming the world’s first Latin-American superhero as the character was featured in comic books and dozens of films. What’s more, Santo’s approach to masking his identity in the public trickled down through generations of lucha libre practitioners.
Today, the mask is as popular as ever in lucha libre culture and its importance is played up in wrestling kayfabe around the globe. This is why mask vs. mask matches are drenched in intrigue and suspense. Why sadist heel Minoru Suzuki unmasking Jushin Thunder Liger was deemed such a disrespectful, dickhead move. The mask is sacred. Omnipotent. Once removed, a competitor either loses a piece of himself, or is forced to take on a new identity. In Suzuki’s case, it was akin to opening his own personal can of whoop ass. See the 2019 unleashing of Kishin Liger for further reference.
Point is … don’t mess with the mask, B!
Contel Bradford is a mystical and complex individual. You can attempt to unravel some of the mystery by visiting his author site at countkrewpublications.com.
