A blog written back in June 2008. Hogan has since gone on to divorce his wife and marry his daughter’s friend (!) and return to wrestling yet again in TNA, sadly going down the route of Ric Flair, Jake the Snake, Terry Funk etc, who all became shadows of their former selves. Still my favourite wrestler of all time, but every legend seems to let you down when you get older!
Hulk Hogan
A long time ago I would watch cable TV on a hot South African afternoon and watch an almost orange-skinned man wearing a yellow and red bandana rip off his matching vest whilst screaming at the crowd. Somewhere in the corner of the wrestling ring he was standing in would be his latest foe, be it Kamala, Giant Gonzalez, Ted DiBiase or a brief comeback against a Yokozuna or The Rock. Usually, through terrible acting, they would quiver and stare and stand aghast at the crowd roaring on Terry Bollea, aka Hulk Hogan, as the inevitable was about to occur. A failed attempt at a punch or a slap, followed by a determined pointing finger to the face of the victim. Seconds later, the unfortunate victim of the most popular wrestler of all time would be thrown against the ropes, come hurtling back seemingly unable to stop the forces of gravity and perpetual motion, and then BAM! A big boot to the face would knock them down.
The ‘Real American’ would start waving his arms and hands about, riling the crowd up as each section of the crowd cheered depending on which stand he was facing. Once the entire stadium were on their feet for the most over-rated but undeniably finisher of all time, Hogan would execute it. A sprint to the ropes, back off them and then to the other side, jumping over the paralysed, sweaty, muscly body in the middle of the ring awaiting its fate, only to return with a five foot leap into the air, an outstretched leg, and the ultimate collision of leg on torso. Very few people ever got back up before the 1-2-3 count, and the infamous title music would kick in as born-again dads and their fat teenagers screamed and cheered celebrating a seemingly unstoppable Western hero that America and her neighbours across the Atlantic adhered as the ultimate role model.
This is how I remembered Hulk Hogan, the man who once bodyslammed Andre The Giant, teamed up with Brutus ‘The Barber’ Beefcake against the evil Money Inc. and who made a shock return to save Bret ‘The Hitman’ Hart’s dignity and win the Heavyweight belt against a cheating 500lb sumo wrestler and his manager Mr Fuji, in front of hundreds of thousands of people at Caesar’s Palace. And who even shockingly once got defeated, DEFEATED by The Undertaker, a rare exception to the facade that he really was unbeatable.
Of course, all boys turn into men, or at least pretend to, and cynicism and bitter reality kick in. You learn that wrestling is equally entertainment as it is a tribute to athleticism. Matches are often pre-decided, scripted, and your so-called heroes are only heroes if their marketing is good enough. And Hogan’s was optimum. A ‘creation’ of Vince McMahon, Terry Bollea became bigger than either he or Vince imagined, and they would love and loathe each other for it and because of it. Sadly, like most great wrestlers, Hogan could not resist the one too many comebacks in his twilight years, an older, balder and heavier man in order to fight today’s generation of superstars, and of course the bank balance. Still, Hogan has many great twists and turns in his illustrious career, including finally turning heel in the once great WCW, the only other wrestling corporation to ever come close (and even beat) WWF/WWE in the rankings. But Hollywood Hogan, his alternate persona, was almost ironic in that he sacrificed much of the peak of his career to star in many much-loved but frankly terrible films, conveyor-belted Hollywood trash to rake in the working class dollar from Hogan’s and wrestling’s many family-orientated fans. Much like The Rock, Hogan could trade on his name alone, and spend 11 months of the year filming or cashing in on advertisements and TV shows and turn up back in the ring for one PPV and reclaim his title amongst a sea of ‘Hulkamania’s back’ posters and t-shirts, all part of the synergetic merchandise wagon.
While my love of wrestling was briefly and passionately reignited at college, it faded back into a general ignorance of something I was far too mature for in my twenties, much like video games and pretending I was actually any good at football. But an interest in Hogan reignited once when he made his last successful comeback against an equally idolised Rock (although in one of wrestling’s great moments that the scriptwriters could not comprehend, Hogan came in as the bad guy against the good guy Rock, only for the fans to cheer him on anyway). He was slower and the knee ops showed but he still managed a good performance. And then of course, was his MTV hyped TV show, Hogan Knows Best.
This show alone probably ruined many of my memories of my once greatest hero. Instead of a fun-loving, moral-preaching man you could imagine being your favourite uncle or even father-in-law, you saw a grumpy middle-aged man, completely out of touch with reality, over-believing in his own hype and persona, an over-protective father who would not let his relatively normal (and beautiful) daughter Brooke pursue something most stereotypical blonde American teenage women want, a boyfriend and to be a pop star. Like most of these women, she was quite naive and not very good, but nonetheless was very intelligent, and had her feet quite rooted to the ground, and had all the usual characteristics of a girl who loved her family but wanted to grow up. In strict contrast, there was the younger sibling, Terry’s son Nick, who the Hulkster was quite happy to let do what he wants, be it illegally driving cars around the neighbourhood or chatting up women much older than him, a true example of an old man living out his fantasies through his young son.
As funny as much of it was, this was the real-life Hulk, who had once urged us all to drink our milk, take our vitamins and say our prayers while unfortunately falling to the 80s Steroid Monster, who is said to hide in a cave these days in the Pasadena district, and occassionally come out when the drug testers are on holiday. But what was quite sad was seeing the father of Hulkamaniacs everywhere drinking quite excessively, being paranoid of anyone that wasn’t like him coming within a mile of his home, and the undertones of chavinism and homophobia. Perhaps normal of a man of his upbringing and generation, especially being as macho and American and right-wing as he is, but still a far cry from the man tens of millions of people would tune in to watch once or twice a week.
Obviously TV is edited, and no-one will ever know the full picture, but recent off-camera events in Hulk’s life have cast an even darker shadow over the sun-drenched era that was Hulkamania. After allegedly having an affair with one of his daughter’s friends some 20 years his junior (making all his overly-protective gripes about her dating so much as guys seem even more ironic), his wife has left him. Linda Bollea, another typical example of a blonde, Tango’d trophy wife (she was probably a cheerleader) may not have been the most genuine wife in the world but she certainly came across as a loving one, and a fun person to be around. Perhaps it is not just the idea of Hulk Hogan becoming another infidelity statistic, but the fact it was with a much younger woman, and a friend of his daughter’s.
If that wasn’t enough, the arrogant and downright spoilt Nick Bollea has just been convicted, at the age of 17, of dangerous driving in which a crash left his friend brain damaged. This may have come as a shock to some, if Nick hadn’t put a nail in his own coffin by contributing scenes of joyriding, police intervention or neighbourhood nuisancing in every episode of Hogan Knows Best. And, Hogan has finally been interviewed by Larry King, teary-eyed talking about it all, although he can’t really have much of a defence with the amount of camera footage and telephone conversations damning some of his son’s actions, and who knows about his other problems, but his daughter certainly isn’t speaking to him. Which all paints a very sad picture of one of my greatest heroes of all time. They say you should never meet your idols as you will only be disappointed, but it is a shame for millions of teenagers and young men alike to see an idol crumble on your own TV screen.
Pastamania!
Perhaps Hogan should have listened to his own catchphrases. His career certainly hasn’t stuttered however as he is currently presenting the American version of Gladiators (or was it us who copied them?), who even have their very own Wolfman, who ironically looks a bit like HHH. Maybe we will see Hulk Hogan don the yellow and red one more time, successfully leg-dropping his wife’s divorce lawyer and the lawyers serving Nick’s former friend. Hulkamania vs The Prosecution, with fellow faded heroes The Ultimate Warrior, Jake the Snake and Macho Man Randy Savage in his corner battling for their lives. And maybe, just maybe, Hulk Hogan will come out on top once more, legdropping the prison wardens and the tax men and the army of lawyers in white shirts and shiny shoes, and win his family back as well as his respect.
