WrestleMania
It was the end of an era for my brothers and me as we watched one of the more decorated WWE superstars, The Undertaker, seemingly retire after 33 odd years of being in the industry.
Not that we were strangers to wrestlers retiring—it happens all the time and for the strangest of reasons—but we grew up watching the Undertaker, and the mystique surrounding his character was vastly different from that of Stone Cold Steve Austin or, a more popular character, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.
He was more entwined with wrestling than either of those two were, as evidenced by the fact that WWE continued to jump on his WrestleMania gimmick (he was undefeated for his first 21 appearances) way past his prime. And now, the curtain closes on his career.
I am writing about WrestleMania simply because it is an excuse every once a year for me to peek back into my childhood.
I wasn’t your typical 90s kid in the sense that while others would be watching Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon (and various versions of ABS-CBN and GMA kiddie time shows that I forget the name of), I was already reading about Star Wars expanded lore, getting into the history of Final Fantasy, and—you guessed it—wondering how Stone Cold Steve Austin wasn’t the WWF World Champion despite being “stronger” than the Undertaker.
You have to remember that this was a time when boys taking up culinary courses were still largely taboo (as my grandmother demonstrated to me) and wrestling was considered a circus act because it was “fake” (as if movies and stage acts aren’t “fake”).
Because of that, I’ve always had this thought that I was a weird, awkward kid growing up (and I probably was), and that had probably hindered my growth during my teenage years.
Obviously, we all have had that awkward teenage phase, but in my opinion, it took me a lot longer to get over that and accept who I was.
Now that I’m a bit older, I’ve come across more than my fair share of people who were also “closet” wrestling fans like I was at that time and feel better about myself.
I realize that, for better or worse, I actually now have a group of buddies I can relate to and don’t necessarily feel like the odd one out.
WrestleMania allows me to look back at my 14-year-old self—still wondering if he’ll ever really fit in with a group of people—and reminding him that, yes, things will get better, you can fix yourself slowly, and progress and growth may be slow, but you will see changes if you just continue to have hustle, loyalty, and respect (cue John Cena song).
What conversation would you have with your 14-year-old self?