Legacy, culture, and respect.
On October 15, 2022, so much was on the line, in the name of legacy, culture, and respect.
The place is Mexico City, on AAA’S biggest event of the year – on par with WWE’s WrestleMania or NJPW’s Wrestle Kingdom, and the finals of the Ruleta de la Muerte tournament, a reverse tournament of sorts that would see the losers of the semi-finals engage in a Mask vs Mask match, with the winner of the match keeping their mask intact, while the loser removes theirs – a massive deal in lucha Libre.
So, who are these competitors in the finals? The first is someone many fans of modern wrestling, fans of AEW would recognize, as Pentagon Jr. found himself across the ring from a legend.
The second competitor is of a family of wrestlers, the Mendozas, who wrestled under the name of Villano, with a Roman numerals attached to the end. This Villano in particular is Villano IV. His family is no stranger to big matches (see Villano III’s CMLL match against Atlantis in 2000), and IV himself is most known in the U.S. for his time in WCW from 1996-2000. At fifty-seven years old, Villano IV has the experience, but does the tread on his tires still keep him rolling in that yellow ring?
Having been walked to the ring by his Villano family, he waits not for the black-and-white clad Pentagon, who enters to a live performance and a headdress. Villano ambushes the younger wrestler and dismantled him on the ramp. He’s unforgiving and he’s an animal who’s lived through many a war – like his opponent, he has zero fear.
The pink luchadore, as withered by time as he is, dominates Pentagon, stiff as ever to make up for his limited mobility. Hes already tarnished and ripped the mask of Pentagon, exposing his eyes and he unloads the fury of weaponry. There isn’t a single moment where Pentagon is able to mount a defense, let alone offense.
Blood is shed, for Penta is damaged and he endures the hard punches of his senior, enough to choke the wind out of him. Suffocated on all fronts, Pentagon needs to find the strength to give him a fighting chance.
Enter his kicks. Pentagon has some of the best kicks in the game, and even against a veteran dying to protect his essence, Pentagon’s kicks are enough to give him a window of opportunity.
Spry and filled with energy, Pentagon sends Villano outside and flies out there, wind rushing past his tattered mask and crimson-painted face before it is his turn to desecrate Villano’s mask. This is like watching someone lose a championship, but on a different level. Imagine someone removing your face, erasing your name, or dissipating your existence. That’s how sacred the mask is for luchadores.
Pentagon is young and he has time for disrespect and to be as brutal as possible. One must be fearless to live as such.
Wearing down the old beast is no easy feat, but for Penta, it is doable, it is manageable. He gets the salmon-colored legend down for a two-count, but more work must be done.
Despite crashing through a table, courtesy of Pentagon, Villano still stands, but ever so briefly, until an over-the-rope kick flattens him to blink through his exposed mask at the lights before his midsection is stomped by an aerial Pentagon for yet another two-count pinfall.
As with many a youth against a seasoned opponent, Penta unwisely taunts with his patented Cero Miedo, his own undoing for a fashion, as Villano reverses it, stretching Penta beyond the hellish gates of torment that lie in the underworld; his screams reach for nobody, and he does not tap.
After both men fail to secure yet another pin, they exchange a handshake before the struggle marches onward yet again with strikes that whittle down the other. The visage of a torn Pentagon, his wrist soaked and stained with red, kneels as a weary Villano fights his own body to regain his own footing.
Pentagon is able to outlast, for he is hungry, and desires to live. For such a foregone conclusion, Penta is having to fight as there’s a lot left in the tank of Villano. The 57 year-old manages to send the Lucha Bro through a table and send his leg through a torturous hold so gnarly, that Penta is lucky to survive, but it is not enough to destroy him, and it can never be enough, for the fires blaze forever into the Mexico City night sky.
Penta steals Villano’s hold from earlier, yet he breaks free, but there is no use in it; the same arm Penta has been targeting through the match is dismantled by the AEW wrestler’s arm-snapper, at last delivering him a pinfall victory. He keeps his mask, and still has no fear.
While celebrating with his tag team partner in Rey Fenix and Arez, who accompanied him to the ring, Penta is met with the man he soundly defeated as an era ends in blood-soaked glory as a dying torch is lit anew upon passing to a stronger flame.
The audience sheds tears, well deserved of this emotional battle. Two men left it all in the ring, and at the end of the day, that’s what anyone can ask for.
Penta kneels before a man he respects, and despite the violence, they embrace, filled with love. The youth kneels before the legend.
The emotion stops not here, but through the loosening of Villano’s mask, and as he removes it, the impact of the moment crushes everyone in Mexico City.
An impassioned Villano delivers a fiery speech to his better, acknowledging that this was the endgame for their clash, and he removes his mask to reveal a bald head and a face torn through numerous wars, with a new scar to match from this recent fight. A man turns his head from the camera and another stands, barely containing his composure before he claps.
With tears in his voice and voice in his eyes, Tomás Díaz Mendoza holds the blood soaked mask of Villano IV, and pours his heart out.
I know not what he says, but I don’t need to, for his fight speaks the weight of mountains. For as limited as he was in the ring at his age, he gave it his all, and he did it with passion, with connection to the audience, leaving all with heavy hearts and red-tinged eyes.
The defining image of this match is shown in what may undoubtedly be a pro wrestling picture that will live on even when Pentagon has to one day be in the same role, as he holds the mask of Villano, his mask shredded, his body marooned with blood, and those pale eyes staring into your soul.
This is professional wrestling. It makes you feel. It tells of soldiers ready to die by the blade on their rifles, and of men without fear.
This is the culmination of the Death Roulette.
