“HULK DIED, DIDN’T CRY, DIDN’T KNOW HIM THAT WELL…”

Childhood nostalgia is possibly the most potent form of nostalgia there is. It makes us want to go back to those times, never stopping to think that it probably wouldn’t be as fun if we were adults. We associate those times with the carefree days of life, those who are no longer with us, and of course, all of the music, TV, and video games we still love to this day. But in our big age, the thing we miss most is actually being children. Most of us didn’t know how much hatred there is out here, even in the hearts of people we admired. Growing up, particularly for us ‘80s kids, has been a hell of a reality check—one of the major learning curves being that most of our favorite entertainers were ra_ists—that’s with a ‘c’ or a ‘p.’

So, Hulk Hogan, right… there’s nothing I can say about him that those WWE video packages didn’t sum up. It’s all true—he made the World Wrestling Federation, and ultimately pro wrestling, what it has become; he was a shining light in our childhoods, and he’s the most famous wrestler of all time. Still, regardless of what his family, Michael Rapaport, D-Von Dudley, or anyone thinks—this does not absolve him from the vitriol he has received since his death. In fact, it only enhances and explains exactly why his death has gotten some of the responses it has.

Make no mistake, young Black wrestling fans loved Hogan in his day. Many of us have personal memories attached to not only Hogan, but wrestling itself in that era. We went outside on Saturday afternoons and had fake “matches” with our friends and family, imitating his moves, promos, and poses. We joined social circles in school through discussions about his feuds with Andre the Giant, “Rowdy” Roddy Piper, “The Macho Man” Randy Savage, the Ultimate Warrior, and others. We had older relatives that we connected with while watching Superstars or Saturday Night’s Main Event. We dressed as Hogan for Halloween, watched the Rock ‘n’ Wrestling cartoon, had the LJN action figure that didn’t move; all that shit that made him a live-action version of our favorite cartoon heroes. And this is what he turned out to be.

It’s really the feeling of betrayal, for us. Sure, Hogan never specifically claimed to be a representative for Black people, but he did portray himself as a role model for all people. It also didn’t hurt that we’d constantly seen him comfortably next to Black people and giving us props. Whether that was becoming BFFs with Mr. T, appearing on The Arsenio Hall Show, bumping Jeezy in his car, or even crediting Laila Ali for saving his life, it was not a thought in our heads that when the cameras were off (or in his case, secretly on), he wasn’t this person. This all changed on the day that he was exposed. He not only turned out to be the kind of bigot that only likes “the good ones”; he was the kind that believed the only “good ones” were rich ones. Even his weak apologies held no water, because they came from a person so notorious for lying to make himself look good, they were hard to take seriously.

To be clear, the buck likely doesn’t stop with Hogan. There are a lot of wrestlers that we’ve watched who were/are probably racist behind the scenes, too. It doesn’t make them any better than Hulk, but they’re not as disgraced as him, because all we can do is entertain an idea that they might have been. With Terry Bollea, we know. Some have opted to push his racism to the side because he was a beloved childhood favorite and the icon who made wrestling what it is, while others chose to A-Town stomp on his grave. Neither side of that coin is necessarily wrong to feel how they feel, but there is something terribly off about excusing him in death. I’ll always point to WrestleMania III as the starting point of my fandom—it’s just too bad that the big bodyslam that made me lose my mind in ’87 wasn’t done by a better person.

There’s been many perceived racists throughout history that we changed our tune about after “hearing” that they said bad things about us. Elvis allegedly said that all we can do for him is shine his shoes and buy his records. Many older Black people still believe this happened, though it has been determined to be a debunked, age-old rumor that never died, at best. Us ‘90s teenagers stopped rocking with Tommy Hilfiger after he “went on Oprah” and said he didn’t want us buying his clothes, which is about as true as Lauryn Hill saying her kids would starve before she had White people buying her music. But there’s something that Black wrestling fans heard for sure—the Hulkster himself throwing the “N-bomb, hard-R” around like crazy, telling his son he hopes they’re not reincarnated as “Blizzack Gizzuys”, and flatly saying “I’m racist”. As a result, Hogan’s death came for us long before July 24, 2025.

We had that funeral years ago. That’s why we didn’t have the same emotional reaction that a lot of folks who haven’t watched wrestling in 3000 years seemed to have last week. We watched Hogan “die” every time he showed up and got booed out of arenas, made a fool of himself, and saw his star power decline year after year. We watched him “die” when, in addition to the bigotry, he was proven to be a prolific bullshit artist, and his peers often called him out on it. His actual death was just the final episode in a long season of self-destruction he’d been working on for years. His reputation as an icon that we never forgot but would rather not remember is one that he has earned. He has family members who are outraged about how “disrespectful” it is to call him a racist—but it was more disrespectful for him to be one.

Just like his prejudices don’t prevent him from being an all-time wrestling legend, Hulk Hogan’s death does not alter him being the person he was and would still be right this minute if he were still alive. What’cha gonna do, brother?