Terry Bollea (1953–2025) was a flawed man, with scandals and lawsuits. But Hulk Hogan — the character — was larger than life.
In the 1980s and early 1990s, professional wrestling was everywhere. As a kid, I was a big "Hulkamaniac." I watched the cartoon "Hulk Hogan’s Rock 'n' Wrestling" (CBS), collected action figures, and watched wrestling every weekend.
I still recall being 10 years old and watching wrestling for the first time.
My friends talked about it on the bus and in gym class, but I hadn’t really paid attention — until one weekend when my twin brother and I turned on "Saturday Night’s Main Event."
After that, we made regular weekend trips to Blockbuster, renting every classic tape we could find. When Hogan defeated the Iron Sheik for the World Wrestling Federation (WWF) title in January 1984 — just a few years after the Iran hostage crisis — it felt like America was fighting back.
When he took on the Soviet villain Nikolai Volkoff or the Gulf War-era Sergeant Slaughter, reimagined as an Iraqi sympathizer, the message was clear: Hogan was fighting for "the rights of everyman."
Even as kids, we knew wrestling was scripted — but it didn’t matter.
It was like watching a great action movie.
Hogan had charisma, but more than that, he had a message, "Train, say your prayers, eat your vitamins, be true to yourself, be true to your country. Be a Real American!"
His theme song said, "You gotta take a stand, it don't help to hide," and "Courage is the thing that keeps us free."
Today, this message would be politically incorrect for its "toxic masculinity."
Yes, we later learned the "vitamins" were more pharmaceutical than Flintstones.
But even after the steroid scandal, the message endured.
When Hogan was (kayfabe) injured by Earthquake in 1990, over 250,000 fans sent him get-well letters, urging him to return at SummerSlam.
Hogan helped Vince McMahon transform WWF from a regional promotion into a global empire. That cultural moment may have helped the political rise of President Trump.
WrestleManias IV and V were held at Trump Plaza in 1988 and 1989. And I’ve often wondered: did spending time among wrestling fans give Trump insights into America that most elite politicians missed?
Unlike poll-tested, consultant-reliant candidates, Trump saw how crowds cheered for unapologetic patriotism (Hogan) and later for the rebellious anti-hero (Stone Cold Steve Austin vs. Vince McMahon).
Ronald Reagan once traveled the country as a spokesman for General Electric, using those speeches to understand and connect with the American people.
Trump, it could be argued, got his version of that education in the arena — where "Hulkamania" was running wild.
If the professional wrestling boom of the 1980s sharpened Trump’s political instincts, then professional wrestlers can take some of the credit for how the MAGA movement irrevocably changed American politics.
For that reason alone, "Hulkamania" will live forever.
It should be noted that Linda McMahon, who helped build WWE alongside Vince McMahon, is the current Secretary of Education.
That said, wrestling also mirrors some of our deeper cultural dysfunction — chief among them, arrested development.
Terry Bollea’s life offers many lessons.
While he was far from the worst example of this problem, his story serves as a cautionary tale. Fame can be a dangerous narcotic.
Bollea gave the world an unforgettable character in Hulk Hogan, but the cost of living in that role for decades is something we should reflect on with empathy, not judgment.
As the Apostle Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 13:11, "When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things."
I recently watched Megyn Kelly and Emily Jashinsky discuss how too many Americans are unwilling to grow up.
They mentioned adults obsessed with Disney World to aging pop stars clinging to their youth, there’s a reluctance to embrace maturity.
Wrestling reflects that too.
There are many veterans who stay in the ring well past their prime.
The industry has ended too many lives far too soon.
Terry Bollea lived longer than most of his rivals, but 71 is not a long life — especially considering that both of his parents lived into their late 80s.
In the last decade, he had approximately 25 surgeries, including 10 on his back.
In retrospect, I think wrestling fans should have encouraged professional wrestlers to retire early. More importantly, it is time for many people to grow up.
To paraphrase Dennis Prager, it’s not enough to practice what you preach.
Prager said people need to "preach what you practice."
While I don’t think childless adults should be watching professional wrestling, I am glad I got to watch Hulk Hogan as a kid.
Robert Zapesochny is a researcher and writer. His work focuses on foreign affairs, national security, and presidential history. He's been published in numerous outlets, including The American Spectator, The Washington Times, and The American Conservative. When he's not writing, Robert works for a medical research company in New York. Read Robert Zapesochny's Reports — More Here.
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