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It’s fairly common to see someone take a slam or two during some of the more rowdy music shows at the Historic El Rey Theatre. It is unusual however, for the body slams to be louder than the music coming from the amplifiers. During Duke City Championship Wrestling’s (DCCW) “Coronation” event, the slams in the ring could be heard from outside. Behind the building’s familiar red front doors, once a month, Albuquerque gets a glimpse into the world of underground wrestling.
Fred Slow, co-owner of DCCW and the organization’s licensed promoter, says his passion project is rooted in nostalgia. He says he wants to bring a bit of his midwest childhood, when he would sit “crisscross applesauce” on his grandmother’s floor to catch the latest match, to the Land of Enchantment.
“We chose Thursday nights on purpose,” Slow says. “Where I grew up—St. Louis, Missouri—we had a thing called “Wrestling at the Chase” and they had the exact same formula. They would record TV for the month on Thursdays, then they would air it Saturday mornings.”
The amped-up nature of DCCW’s live events is contagious. It’s a unique experience attending the shows in person, and the devoted fans come out in force. While there is the traditional bell, the crashes from wrestlers hitting the canvas mat seem to signal the next match. Fans run from the bar after intermissions as soon as they hear that distinct sound. The outfits are tight, revealing, colorful, and outrageous—exactly what you would expect from a true professional wrestling event. There’s both heels and heroes along with jeers and cheers for each. Hobo Hank was one of the most popular local heroes by far, and signs bearing his name punctuated the crowd.
“[Hobo Hank] has been in the game for 27 years,” Slow says. “No matter where we put him on the card, people are excited about that spot, and they always get really involved in his match.”
But there’s a whole slew of other wrestlers, each with unique personas and skills.
“Turbo Tony is a local guy that I really like and he’s been doing it for about 10 years,” Slow says. “We’ve got some undersized guys, we’ve got performers like Sid the Kid who may be a shade over five-feet tall and every 13-year-old kid’s favorite wrestler.”
The grizzly-bearded, long-haired, 187-pound “Wild Man” Fonzi Le Fleur who hails from “an abandoned trailer in the 505” faced off in a brawl with the younger, and more clean-cut newcomer Enrique Del Gato, who had already proven himself in earlier matches by defeating larger opponents. The match ended with Fonzi delivering a flying blow to his opponent from the top ropes, but it was when Fonzi hoisted his defeated adversary onto his shoulders to share in the crowd’s praise, that the fans went wild.
Of course, there’s the age-old debate over how real this type of wrestling is. Slow and DCCW create live drama and suspense, and the El Rey events feel like a TV show unfolding on stage.
“We’re episodic, so we have a storyline, and what we’re able to do is feature those things throughout the show,” Slow tells The Paper. “Because we record four episodes every live taping, we can kind of sprinkle in a main event every other match. It’s a really interesting dynamic because if you get there late, you’re gonna miss something significant.”
Even the bureaucracy behind sanctioning the event includes some blurred lines between athletics and entertainment. Slow says state law requires him to be a licensed athletic promoter even though he sees the events as more entertainment than anything else.
Slow wants to bring pro-wrestling to Albuquerque without using shock value as a marketing technique.
“We’re not interested in blood, we’re not interested in sensational politics or the world that surrounds us,” he says. “This is theater, and this is meant to be an escape. It’s meant to provoke excitement, laughter, and happiness at certain points. A good swerve in wrestling is as good as any storyline in ‘Game of Thrones.’”
But DCCW does have a fair amount of athleticism and is violent enough to keep the attention of hardcore fans. There is a feeling of danger in the matches, but it’s not violent in the same way as mixed martial arts or other contact sports. People aren’t purposely trying to inflict injuries to win matches.
The DCCW storylines have some twists and irony. Old friends are forced to face each other for a chance at the championship belt. Former tag-team partners turn to enemies and exact brutal revenge in the ring for past betrayals. Many fans root for the heel in certain matches, and the definition of a “good guy” gets murky as the episodic drama progresses. Both Hobo Hank and Fonzi Lafleur are from the streets of Albuquerque with antihero-type personas, and they are clearly two of the city’s most beloved. Like any sporting event, spectators overwhelmingly root for the local guys and aren’t shy to offend the visitors. The New Mexico-Texas rivalry at DCCW events is apparent, and even played-up during wrestler interviews between the taped television matches.
DCCW hosts its matches on Thursday nights and the events are taped live. The shows provide a whole night of entertainment, and feature live performances by Albuquerque high desert-rockers manhigh before the first bell.
Slow says, “We cut [the] two-hour taping up into four 30-minute episodes which we release episodically on Comcast channels 26 and 27. We have a YouTube presence and all the other outlets that go along with that. I think we’re up to episode 18 now, we’re flying through them.”
DCCW’s next show, “Countdown to Chaos” hits El Rey once again on December 30.