I finally confessed to myself that this Argentina wrestling was indeed cool and captivating television. It was initially a disturbing confession. This parade of purely fictional wrestling characters catered for children seemed to parody the pro wrestling I had recently discovered and loved. Add that I was eleven years old, right at that age where no boy wants to be caught by his peers enjoying something infantile.
So what won me over as sheer aficionado who embraced Titanes en el Ring with full uncut enthusiasm? It took one sweet angle between Martin (pronounced Mar-teen) Karadagian and his nemesis La Momia (The Mummy) to hook me for good.
These were the days when all TV wrestling action took place either in the ring or during interviews. Those pre-RAW and Nitro days, years before the angles took place with candid cameras roaming the dressing rooms, bars, or the wrestlers' own living rooms, years before the storylines peeked in on the wrestlers private conversations as they were conspiring to squash their enemies.
Throughout this particular edition of Titanes en el Ring, the camera would occasionally cut from the wrestling matches to a room somewhere deep in another set of the TV studio; it was a disco, packed with happy flower children, partying and dancing to away to peppy rock tunes. These young rock and rollers were no doubt compatriots of wrestlers Hippie Jimmie and Hippie Hair.
The main event that evening was champion Martin Karadagian versus Joe el Mercenario (Mercenary Joe). Karadagian (who ran the promotion) had that old school strongman physique, shoulder length white curls that shined liked taffy, black beard and moustache, twinkling Santa eyes, and a trademark grin that kicked ass like the Cheshire Cat. Joe Golera, who looked like your traditional cane brandishing circus emcee with the top hat, tails, and pencil thin moustache, accompanied Martin.
So Martin and Joe battled it out. The match was good slick pro wrestling, but it wasn't the ringwork that jumpstarted my creative opiate zone ...
Martin was doing Joe el Mercenario in ... and then I heard the methodic icy tune begin to play, the music that told us that La Momia was dangerously close. Sure enough, La Momia's sleek gaunt figure was creeping its way toward ringside, looking for Martin!
Martin and Joe Golera dashed out of the ring, wide eyed with fear as they stood face to face with La Momia! What made this scene so sweet was that the cameraman was following smack behind La Momia, filming over his shoulder, so we saw this caper from the Mummy's point of view. "Now this is groovy!" I cried. "Momiavision !"
Martin and Joe backed away toward the dressing room. As they stepped behind the curtain, Martin snatched Joe's cane, busted it over La Momia's head, but … Hell, nothing more dangerous than a wounded mummy.
La Momia then pursued his foes through the thin dark corridors of the TV studio. Martin and Joe tried opening every door they came across, horrified to find that each portal was locked! It looked like this ancient wonder would crush our duo with his death grip ...
But at last they found an unlocked door! Martin and Joe bolted into the room and shut the door behind them. Our viewpoint now shifted through the eyes of a camera in the room Martin and Joe entered, and we saw the escapees lock the door behind them, breathing a sigh of relief. They escaped into a monster free zone, a warm room with bright lights and … the blare of rock and roll music!
Martin and Joe turned to find that they had locked themselves into the room packed full of partying hippies who zipped up their pace and love code, and began swinging frenzied fists at their unwelcome guests.
Could a mere multitude of hippies kick ass on Martin Karadagian and Joe Golera? No, Baby, no! The weary duo fought off hippie after hippie with little effort. Naw, mere hippies couldn't kick ass on our boys ...
But wrestling hippies, that was another story!
Enter Hippie Jimmie and Hippie Hair! Jimmie, shoulder length blonded and thoroughly bellbottomed, dropkicked Martin. Hippie Hair, bushy brunette in raggy duds that would have made Abbie Hoffman proud, began tearing apart Joe Golera's tuxedo. The rudos escaped the supernatural terror, but were now getting trounced by Argentina's greatest representatives of harmony and understanding!
The credits rolled as The Hippies trounced the war weary champs, and the Spartacus theme played. I sat mesmerized, wishing the show didn't have to end.
To be continued ...
