Last week, we lost some real cultural icons of decades past.
First, it was Malcom-Jamal Warner from a popular eighties sitcom.
Then, it was Ozzy Osbourne.
Finally, Hulk Hogan. In fact, I think that they died on three consecutive days.
I published blog entries honoring the first two, but admittedly did not cover Hulk Hogan.
Why?
Because in my opinion, you should try not to speak badly of the recently departed, by and large. However, Hulk Hogan just so completely ruined whatever positive legacy he once had built, that it does feel like it merits a mention.
In that spirit, it seemed like publishing this Facebook post would address that. Because despite the entrance music to Hulk Hogan proudly proclaiming him to be a "real American" fighting "for the rights of every man," Hogan was in fact a despicable person in rea life. He was blatantly racist, even admitting to it in a now widely published rant. His address at the Republican National Convention last year was, frankly, pathetic, and made me feel like we were truly growing dangerously close to becoming a real life "Idiocracy."
Truth be told, I was never a big Hogan fan, even back when I watched wrestling in the 1980's. But it felt to me that far from that version of Hogan not being truly reflective of who Terry Gene Bollea (aka Hulk Hogan) really was, the real man was actually a horrendous person. And maybe this should be an opportunity to address that, in case we never quite get around to doing so.
In a recent Op/Ed article summing up the life of Hogan, David Dennis Jr. mentioned how most of the articles and posts would fixate on Hogan's wrestling career, and would pretty much end it there. He then went on to say:
But this won’t.
Because Hulk Hogan is a self-admitted racist who was caught on tape using the N-word freely on multiple occasions and also dreading the idea that his son’s arrest could mean that the two could be reincarnated as Black men. When that is part of your legacy, it becomes singularly defining. As a result, Hulk Hogan died being known a racist who also became famous as a professional wrestler. He only has himself to blame for that.
That's the truth. It's not that difficult to understand, frankly. I liked the Cosby Show at the time, but Bill Cosby's horrific behavior ruined it for me (and obviously millions of others). I once liked KISS, but it became impossible to still appreciate them when one of the band members (a highly visible one) proved to be much more of a businessman and, frankly, a prick. Likewise, while I dd not especially like Hogan back in the day, he was a part of my experience as a fan of wrestling. And it felt like what I learned of him over the ensuing decades soured my impressions of him. From feeling like he simply was overhyped and not that interesting, I began to feel more and more disgusted, until that ridiculous farce that passed as his speech at the Republican (Trump party) Convention last summer.
Dennis Jr. explains that Hogan managed to maintain his golden image for quite some time, until his behavior just became so egregious that it finally, irreversibly damaged his legacy:
Even as Hogan continued to reach new levels of stardom, his off-camera reputation started to crumble among those in the wrestling community. He’d already been accused of turning on his fellow wrestlers when they tried to unionize in the 1980s, something he would later admit. He’d also been known as someone who used his power to hold back other stars, pushing for his character to reign supreme in wrestling storylines.
However, the overall public sentiment about Hogan was unimpeachable. He was an American icon. But that all changed on July 24, 2015, exactly 10 years before Hogan’s death. It was on this day that Gawker, then an extremely popular blog, released audio of Hogan’s racist rant about his daughter’s dating life.
Just in case you never were exposed to the specific racist rants by Hogan, here they are (again, these were obtained by the article by Dennis Jr.):
“I mean, I don’t have double standards. I mean, I am a racist, to a point, f—ing n—–s,” Hogan said. “But then when it comes to nice people and s–t, and whatever. …I mean, I’d rather if she was going to f–k some n—–r, I’d rather have her marry an 8-foot-tall n—-r worth a hundred million dollars! Like a basketball player! I guess we’re all a little racist. F—ing n—-r.”
That rant would become the most famous, but further audio leaks revealed even more racist vitriol. In a phone call with his son Nick, who was in jail following a horrific car accident, Hogan used the N-word (“N—a, n—a, that means, that means you (are) my best friend,” he said) and also worried about becoming Black in another life: “You know that God gave you this vibe and this, this, energy that you and I are going to live forever, bro. …I just hope we don’t come back as a couple, I don’t want to say it, blizz-ack gizz-uys, you know what I’m saying?” Hogan quipped.
Yet for a long time, Hogan almost seemed to represent all of the virtues that the United States was supposed to stand for. Again, a bit from the Dennis Jr. article:
His Americanness was in his excess — huge steroid-induced muscles, theatrical matches and xenophobic storylines, taking on people like the Iron Sheik during Operation: Desert Storm in the early 1990s. Hogan’s mantra of “say your prayers and eat your vitamins” was a rallying cry for an entire generation of kids.
Frankly, it seems fitting in some respects that Hogan's Americanness, if you will, gravitated from the cartoonish superhero feel of the 1980's to a far more complicated, and much less flattering, side of the American character today. Because for many people, Hulk Hogan's reputation remained untarnished, and that apparently includes the sitting President of the United States, and his MAGA cult following. They seem to have no problem with Hogan's racist tirades, or his union busting tendencies, or his artificial muscles, or his xenophobic flag-waving, or his general narcissism. I remember that Hogan had to admit in a court case that he lied about having a ten inch penis, and said that the fictional Hulk Hogan indeed had one, although the real man portraying the fictional Hulk Hogan clearly did not have that in real life. That had to be humiliating, yet it also feels fitting. Because that exaggerated, cartoonish public image of Hogan's was so artificial that people even forgot his real name, Terry Gene Bollea. Truth be told, I had to look it up to remember.
The fictional version of Hulk Hogan was this superhero character which was supposed to represent the very best of what it means to be a "real American." Closer to the truth, however, is that the "real" Hulk Hogan should serve as a sobering reminder of the worst of the American character. Indeed, Hogan probably should serve as a cautionary tale for people not to simply believe an artificial, particularly cartoonish character, and the simplistic and naive vision of the country which he supposedly represented.
In short, Hogan became one of those people which the more I heard about him, the less that I wanted to hear about him. And to me, that is now the defining part of his legacy. At a time when this country is more divided and has more hatred and bigotry and idiocy than ever before, it feels like Hogan consistently represented the wrong side of that divide. In the end, he represented not the best of us, but the very worst.
Below is the article which I used in writing this particular blog entry, and from which I obtained all of the quotes used in the above (except for the lyrics to Hogan's theme song when entering the ring). Below that is the Facebook entry which got me on this topic to begin with:
Commentary Hulk Hogan’s legacy isn’t complicated by David Dennis Jr. @DavidDTSS, July 24, 2025:
Professional wrestling star’s career is no match for his racism
https://andscape.com/features/hulk-hogan-legacy-death/
Amy Timmons Stoddard · There's the fairy tale... & then there's the truth....
https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=30918671671064668&set=a.596976573660910
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