Some men appear larger than their profession. At a time in Hulk Hogan’s career, wrestling was no longer just wrestling, it was Hulkamania. While unofficial, this phenomenon reshaped what professional wrestling meant to millions, including myself.
For many adults who fell in love with the sport, the era of black-and-white broadcasts featured icons like Mighty Igor and Argentina Apollo. These were raw days,muscle, grit, and less show. But the emergence of Terry Gene Bollea, known globally as Hulk Hogan, changed everything. Wrestling evolved into spectacle, a fusion of theatre, charisma, power, and crowd control. It became entertainment.
Though not as lucrative as boxing at the time, Hogan’s presence in the then-WWF turned wrestling into a marketing machine, spawning endorsements, appearances in films, and global tours. He didn’t just win matches, he sold a lifestyle.
As I reflect on the life of this larger-than-life figure, who passed away on Thursday at the age of 71, I cannot help but remember names from my youth; Brother Mike, Taiwo Ariyo, and Saliu Afolayan,, friends and family who joined me on countless afternoons watching and re-enacting matches in open spaces, our imaginations fired by Hogan’s signature leg drop or triumphant fist pump.
I became a Hulkamaniac early. I remember saving up to buy comic books just to read more about Hogan, stare at his photos and imagine myself in the ring. My older brother, Mike who later became an amateur wrestler in Niger State introduced us to the technical side of the sport. He taught us the holds, the lingo, the psychology behind each move.
But no moment in wrestling hit me harder than Hogan vs The Ultimate Warrior at WrestleMania VI in 1990. Both icons had run through their opponents. Hogan with wins over the likes of Ric Flair, Sgt. Slaughter, “Macho Man” Randy Savage, and The Million Dollar Man. Warrior had done the same in his meteoric rise.
I admired both, but I wanted Hogan to win. I believed he would.
The match was electric. It started with a test of strength , a slow tense arm wrestle and built into an epic back-and-forth. Hogan slammed Warrior. Warrior rallied. The drama unfolded over nearly 30 minutes. But in the end, Ultimate Warrior emerged victorious.
That loss marked the last time I cried over wrestling. It also marked the beginning of my slow disengagement from the sport at least until The Undertaker arrived and pulled me back in with his mystique.
Hogan’s influence stretched far beyond the ring. With his red-and-yellow attire, handlebar mustache, and booming entrance theme “Real American,” he became the face of wrestling’s golden era. His catchphrases “Whatcha gonna do when Hulkamania runs wild on you?” are etched into wrestling folklore.
Though he officially stepped out of the ring years ago, Hogan remained a towering figure in the wrestling world , both celebrated and controversial making appearances and mentoring new generations of talent.
Today, as I reflect on a life that shaped so many childhoods, including mine, I say this with heavy emotion:
Rest in Power, Hulk Hogan. You body-slammed your way into history.
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