In 2013, WWE aired a promo package for a brand new tag team: Los Matadores.
Of course, WWE had already had one matador, El Matador Tito Santana.
But doubling up on an old, dumb gimmick wasn’t the company’s biggest mistake. No, their biggest mistake was showing fans what the Matadores looked like right away…
…and what they looked like was Primo & Épico with pink durags pulled over their eyes.
Dressed like flamboyant pirates, the duo struck ridiculous poses…
…like this one where they made themselves look big, as if to scare away bears (or attract them, whatever the case may be).
And check out those chinstraps! Were those actual tighty-whiteys sewn onto their bandanas?
No longer Primo & Épico Colón, former WWE Tag Team Champions, they were now a completely new team to WWE and to wrestling in general.
The only hints at their true identities (besides their appearance) were their new names: “Diego” and “Fernando” — the same names as the sons of Columbus, or Colón in Spanish. Not that Vince McMahon knew the first thing about that guy.
Instead of hailing from Puerto Rico, Los Matadores originated from Spain.
And instead of being in their early 30s, the narration and sepia-toned footage made them seem around 100 years old. But regardless of their advanced age, the legendary matadores were coming to WWE, where their bullfighting skills would presumably translate into winning wrestling matches.
You’d think with their identities revealed (for all intents and purposes) on night one, the pink Zorros would debut soon. Instead, the promo segments just dragged on and on. At least it seemed that way. In truth, it was only six more weeks, but how were fans supposed to get hyped when they knew:
a) it was just an old tag team in new packaging, and
b) the packaging looked like this?
Still, every week, a voiceover guy with an Espanish accent would wax philosophical about bullfighting. And every week, fans would hear about the famous bull who defeated all the great toreros before meeting his match in the two legendary Matadores.
And really, that doesn’t sound like a legendary feat at all. In fact, it’s pretty unfair if you ask me — this bull was just beating everybody one-on-one until two guys double-teamed him and claim victory?
It’s like if Big Show and A-Train had snapped The Undertaker’s streak.
While the narrator said essentially the same thing over and over, at least the script was technically different every week. What was identical every week was the third-rate green screen footage of Diego and Fernando.
On September 30th, just a day shy of Susan G Komen month, the pink nightmares finally arrived.
Played to the ring by GarageBand’s finest brass, they introduced the third member of their group:
No, not Olé Anderson.
It was El Torito, also known as Mascarita Sagrada.
Torito’s acrobatic antics managed to buy them a few months of good will…
…which they’d certainly need if they were to wrestle 3MB fifteen times.
But while El Torito went on to beat future WWE champions Drew McIntyre and Jinder Mahal one-on-one…
…and carry Hornswoggle to a Meltzer-certified three-star WeeLC match…
…Los Matadores’ greatest achievements were eating the first fall in three different multi-team title matches…
…attempting to celebrate Cinco de Mayo (their bull was from Mexico)…
…and getting some additional, occasionally less-hideous outfits.
Their brief adoption of Hornswoggle as the dairy cow La Vaquita? That succeeded only in raising uncomfortable questions.
After two entire years with the bullfighter gimmick, fans had gotten thoroughly bored of their Ninja Turtle-looking asses.
Los Matadores met their ignominious end when they attacked Torito (which, honestly, the bull should have seen coming)…
…and were dealt swift justice by the Dudley Boyz.
While Diego & Fernando disappeared forever, the totally unrelated team of Primo & Épico would re-emerge eight months later as time-share salesmen.
But that’s another induction for another week.