Men\'s Health UK - 10.2019

MEN’S HEALTH 53

ll I see is a crowd of

jeering demon faces. There are horned

devils, court jesters, Street Fighter villains

and, in the corner of my eye, Bane himself.

What’s more, they’re all upside down. I’m

suspended in mid-air, mid-suplex, being

held aloft over the shoulders of a much

stronger man with far more tattoos than I

have. My feet touch the sky; my head fills

with blood. In a matter of seconds, gravity

will take over. I’ll hit the floor of the ring –

hard. I am, you see, a luchador.

A luchador is a Mexican wrestler – or, at

least, a Mexican-inspired wrestler. As far as

I can tell, there aren’t any actual Mexicans

in the London Lucha League. But the

people involved have embraced the ethos

of Latin America’s answer to the WWE in

all its sequined glory. The man holding

me aloft is Englishman Greg Burridge; he

was the top domestic wrestler in the UK in

the mid-2000s and has been throwing his

weight around the ring for two decades.

In short, he’s just the sort of guy you don’t

want slamming you to the ground.

Burridge runs the London School of

Lucha Libre alongside Garry Vanderhorne,

THERE’S NOTHING FAKE
ABOUT THE ENDURANCE YOU
CAN UNLOCK IN THE RING

BEHIND ALL THE

COSPLAY IS SOME

SERIOUS TRAINING

A

another wrestling legend. The school,

which sits in the Resistance Gallery, under

the railway arches of London’s Bethnal

Green, counts the renowned Rey Mysterio

as a fan, world-famous wrestler Will

Ospreay among its alumni, and ex-Olympic

boxer Anthony Ogogo as one of its current

trainees. They’re the perfect mentors for

my journey to the big time. The problem is

that I only have seven days to get there.

I arrive through a rusted metal door

and immediately trip over two topless

men grappling on the floor. Behind them,

there’s a bar replete with empty tequila

bottles and sparkling masks. The air is

thick with the smell of sweat. At first, I’m

sure the barman is barking, but it turns

out he’s just holding a pug. The clientele

come in all shapes and sizes, united only

by wide smiles and a desire to learn the

ways of the luchador. “When we set up

the school, I wanted to make it inviting

for people you wouldn’t assume were

welcome in wrestling,” Burridge explains.

“We’re an LGBT-friendly venue, and we’re

not prejudiced or biased against anyone.

If you’ve got a dream to become a pro

wrestler, we’ll help you make it happen.”

Wrestling isn’t “real”. I’m currently

being told how to fall over convincingly,

something I’m pretty sure they don’t do in

MMA. Yet I’m being taught this technique