What Hulk Hogan Means to Me

By: Tony Penecale

This is going to be long.  It is what we journalists do, we write.  I am writing this tribute article to a childhood hero, Hulk Hogan.  I am writing this more for myself.  This is a celebrity death that has affected me like no other.  I can truly understand how people felt when Elvis died.

I’ve sat on these thoughts and words for a week now.  How do you say goodbye to an icon, something that has defined your life for as long as you can remember?  Terry Bollea, a professional wrestler and cultural icon known to the world as Hulk Hogan, passed away suddenly on July 24 after suffering cardiac arrest at his home in Florida.

While there are controversies and divisive opinions over Terry Bollea the man over the last few years, I want to center my thoughts on Hulk Hogan, the wrestler and entertainer who meant so much to me over the last 40 years. 

In what was like a perfect storm, Hulk Hogan came into my life in 1983.  I had just moved to a new neighborhood as my grandfather was terminally ill, and we were going to help my grandmother care for him in his final months.  I had never had cable before.  My dad would sometimes watch the wrestling programming at our old house, and I would sit with him.  At the time WWE (then WWF) was a northeast regional territory.  The champion was Bob Backlund but for a kid enamored with Star Wars and He-Man, he was just too plain and boring to capture my imagination.

Rocky III had been released in 1982 and the script called for a muscular, larger-than-life wrestler to fill the role of Thunderlips and Hogan was the natural choice.  He had been a heel (bad guy) character early in his career and his performance brought him to mainstream recognition.  With access to cable, it seemed that Rocky III was on almost every day and I would watch it after the afternoon cartoons.

That December, Bob Backlund lost the WWE title to the evil and despicable Iron Sheik.  I wasn’t a big Backlund fan, but my 7-year-old mind could not fathom a world with a “bad guy” as the wrestling champion.  The world was balanced on January 23, 1984, when Hogan replaced an “injured” Backlund and vanquished the Iron Sheik at Madison Square Garden.

When I watched this on TV, I could feel the excitement and the jubilation when Hulk won the title back for America.  In my mind, Hulk Hogan was a bad guy in Rocky III until Rocky “turned him good.” In that moment, I found a hero, a real-life Superman, someone who could face and repel the challenges of all bad guy wrestlers.  Having cable, I could watch the monthly cards from the Philadelphia Spectrum, cheering the Hulkster on every month. 

February 1985 marked a full year of being a full-fledged Hulkamaniac for me. There was a matinee card being held at the Spectrum, and my dad decided to take me to see Hulk defend against the villainous Brutus Beefcake.  I can still remember the palpable excitement as they played “Eye of the Tiger” when Hulk came to the ring.  It was so exhilarating.  I taped the replay the next day on TV and was convinced that I saw myself on the broadcast.  It wasn’t until years later that I watched that match on Youtube and realized the person that I thought was me was just a teenager about 10 years older than me and just wearing a similar jacket.

The WWE was presenting a supercard titled “Wrestlemania” the following month, and I tried persuading my dad to let me see it.  This was before you could order pay-per-view cards to watch at home and the only place we could see it was a closed-circuit broadcast at the Philadelphia Spectrum.  I rattled off the list of celebrities that would be there, including Muhammad Ali.  He agreed to take me, and I got to see all the big stars like Junkyard Dog and Andre the Giant.  But the match that had me trembling in my seat was the grudge match with Hulk teaming up with Rocky III costar and A-Team icon, Mr. T as they took on the treacherous duo of Rowdy Roddy Piper and Paul “Mr. Wonderful” Orndorff.  Of course, the heroes prevailed, and that event was the greatest thing I had ever seen.

From that moment, I was about everything and anything Hulk Hogan.  He was the biggest hero in the world.  I liked He-Man, GI Joe, and Transformers, but they were just fake toys and cartoons.  I was a big Rocky fan, but I knew that it was just a movie.  But Hulk Hogan… I watched him every week, and I believed wrestling was real.  I wanted to grow up to become a wrestler.  My name was going to be “Tornado Tony” and I was going to be Hulk Hogan’s tag-team partner.  We were going to main event Wrestlemania as a tag team.  I would train using the Hulkamania workout kit with plastic dumbells, hand grips, and a jumprope. I had a Hulk Hogan lunch box for school, I had a Hulk Hogan t-shirt, and all of the LJN action figures. 

I made many different friends at school just talking about wrestling, some kids that I thought I didn’t have anything in common with.  As a normally shy kid, if I saw another kid with something wrestling-themed, like a wrestling sticker on a backpack or a few trading cards, I would break out of my shell and start a conversation.  Inevitably, we would make plans to watch the weekly programming that aired every Saturday morning, including the Hulk Hogan-themed cartoon that was so popular.  During this time, my parents would let me stay up late if Saturday Night’s Main Event was airing.  It was a welcome treat but also traumatic watching the monstrous King Kong Bundy send Hulk out on a stretcher.  As traumatic as that was, it wasn’t enough to stop me from accepting a birthday party invitation to watch the 2^nd installment of Wrestlemania with some of my classmates.  We cheered during Hogan’s entrance, held our collective breath when Bundy had the advantage, and then celebrated when Hogan reigned supreme.

With the wrestling business at the height of popularity and with Hulk leading the way, they needed something big, extraordinarily big, to fill the 93,000 Pontiac Silverdome for Wrestlemania III.  What they did was match Hogan with the biggest man in professional sports, literally and figuratively, when they pitted him against his former friend in the 7-foot tall, 500 lb. Andre the Giant.  The Giant, fresh off his betrayal of Hogan, was likely too big of a challenge for our hero to conquer.  After enduring numerous blows against his most-daunting adversary, Hulk still managed to superman himself up and conquer his gigantic adversary, including the most iconic bodyslam of all time.

Shortly after Wrestlemania III, my horizons began to expand.  I became interested in sports, especially boxing.  I was watching more movies and playing different video games.  While I was still watching wrestling, and considered myself a loyal Hulkamaniac, I started tuning into other programming, especially during the times Hogan would be off filming movies and TV shows. 

By the time I got to High School, I was barely watching wrestling.  It wasn’t the cool thing to do anymore.  Sometimes I would watch the programming and my favorites to watch were The Undertaker, Razor Ramon, and Deisel.  We didn’t have wrestling parties anymore, my LJN figures were packed in a box in the attic, and we weren’t having backyard matches.  The 80s wrestling boom had faded, and the business had steroid and drug scandals.  It was no longer the innocent form of entertainment that I grew up watching.

My sophomore year in college, I was rooming with a guy who liked wrestling, and I started watching with him.  Hogan was in rival WCW, and we would compare both organizations, both of which were still using outdated themes and gimmicks.  While we watched as a group, I didn’t find myself watching when I returned home for the summer break.  That changed on May 27, 1996, when WCW dropped a bombshell.  Their relatively bland programming received a boost with the surprise arrival of Scott Hall (the former Razor Ramon), followed a few weeks later by his friend Kevin Nash (the former Deisel). 

WCW now had an edgy feel and interest peaked for their Bash at the Beach card, only available by purchasing the pay-per-view broadcast.  Hall and Nash, with the promise of a mystery partner, battled the heroic trio of Randy Savage, Sting, and Lex Luger.  Recovering from a recent knee surgery, I did not purchase the show.  I hadn’t heard any results or reports when I tuned into Monday night’s programming.  With my knee propped up and, in a pain-induced stupor, I watched as Hulk walked to the ring during the main event.  He was there to save the heroes and send the villains fleeing.  Or so I thought.  I remember thinking “Did he just attack the wrong guy?” as he dropped his signature legdrop on Savage.

Just like he did 12 years prior, Hulk Hogan again was the epicenter of the wrestling revolution.  This time he did it by revolutionizing himself into a heel character and adding the moniker “Hollywood” to his name.  He changed his trademark yellow and red colors into a black and white color scheme and branded the “New World Order” of wrestling.  He brought wrestling back to the mainstream.  Media covered wrestling again.  It was the talk around town, schools and offices, how Hulk Hogan turned into a bad guy.  Along with Hall and Nash, he made it cool to be bad.

To counter WCW’s ratings explosion, the WWE adapted a more edgy product, led by Stone Cold Steve Austin and Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.  Monday nights became the ratings war between both companies and watching wrestling was the “in” thing to do again. 

I remember walking up to a young man on our campus who was wearing an NWO t-shirt.  I looked at him and asked “Are you?” and gave the “For Life” signal with my left hand.  He responded with the “Too Sweet” gesture.  We’ve been friends since and every year on our respective birthdays, we post an NWO greeting on the other’s social media page. 

To counter WCW’s ratings explosion, the WWE adapted a more edgy product, led by Stone Cold Steve Austin and Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.  Monday nights became the ratings war between both companies and watching wrestling was the “in” thing to do again.  Wrestling in the 80s was just like the decade, loud, colorful, and over-the-top.  Wrestling in the 90s resembled the changes times, grittier and more realistic.  The rebellious anti-hero was the popular trend and that fit the attitude of my just-turned-21 personality.

During my junior year in 1997, I was selected to box in the prestigious Collegiate East-West Classic in Reno, NV.  Unfortunately, only a week before the bout, my scheduled opponent was forced to withdraw with an injury and a teammate in a lighter weight class was taken in my place.  While at a layover in the San Francisco airport, my boxing teammates saw Hulk Hogan walking by, dressed in his black and white NWO garb.  They stopped him for a photo, and he obliged.  Being a member of the school journalism club, I had to submit that photo for publishing in our school newspaper, the very photo that I should have been included in.  The following year, I was able to make the trip to Reno, NV to compete in the East-West Classic.  I walked all through the airport with another boxer on the trip, looking for any WCW wrestler that might be in the San Francisco airport, even though there was really only one that I was looking to meet.

After graduating, I kept up with the wrestling trend.  In 2001, WWE purchased a faltering WCW, and just a year later, Hulk Hogan returned to battle The Rock in an ageless classic where the fans embraced his return.  Hulk would leave and return to the company several times over the next few years, and during each return, when the first few chords of his signature theme “Real American” would hit the air, the deafening reaction of the crowd would fill the arena with such electricity. 

By the mid-2000s, I come to realize that my opportunity to meet my all-time favorite wrestler and icon was lost when that Reno boxer withdrew from our bout in 1997.  Being a naïve fan, I didn’t realize that Hulk was really from the Tampa area.  He was always billed from Venice Beach, CA and I took that as truth.  I started making an annual spring trip to Clearwater in 2008 and, a few years later, my shuttle passed a bar called “Hogan’s Beach”, near the Tampa airport.  I found out later that it was a bar owned by Hulk Hogan, so I made a point to add a day to my trip for the next year to visit that bar.  It was my chance to get the photo I felt I deserved.  In 2015, I went to Hogan’s Beach with my camera ready, except there was no Hulk Hogan at Hogan’s Beach.

With Hogan’s Beach closing in 2016, I heard that he owned a memorabilia shop in Clearwater Beach and that sometimes he would make random appearances.  I made visits in 2016, 2017, 2018, and 2019, all with no luck.  Sometimes I would hear something like “Too bad.  He was here yesterday.”  Every year, I bought a shirt and took a photo posing outside the shop.  My friend and former teammate Jason, who was on that fateful boxing trip in 1997, would rib me every year and comment with their photo from the airport two decades prior.  I would always respond that I would like to find that Reno boxer so we could finally have that boxing match and every year, I would add another year of interest on top of the beating he was going to get 20 years prior.

Despite my bad timing every year, going to Hogan’s Beach Shop in Clearwater Beach was a fun experience.  When I was a kid, there was talk of a wrestling shop opening at a nearby farmer’s market, and the kids in my neighborhood all spoke about what we would buy, or in reality, beg our parents to buy for us.  I was convinced I was walking out with a tearaway Hulk Hogan shirt, yellow trunks, red kneepads, and yellow boots.  My parents finally took me, and, to my disappointment, it was just a few action figures that I already owned, a few t-shirts, and some trading cards.  The shop in Florida was an 80s kid’s paradise.  There were dozens of shirts to choose from, along with headbands, shot glasses, action figures, and replica belts.  There were items on display, such as Hulk’s ring-worn title belts, an authentic Ric Flair robe, and a pair of Andre the Giant-sized wrestling trunks.  During one of my talks with Hulk’s friend and business partner, Ron, he asked if I wanted to take a photo holding a few of the ring-worn belts.  I first got to hold the spray-painted NWO belt, which was amazing.  But what he brought out next nearly buckled my knees.  It was the authentic belt that Hulk wore to the ring at Wrestlemania III when he battled Andre the Giant.  The real-life belt from maybe the biggest match of all-time was resting on my shoulder.  I tried to make a tough face for the photo, but I couldn’t resist the urge to break out a beaming smile as I held this iconic piece of my childhood.

I finally saw the golden opportunity for my long-awaited photo opportunity with the opening of Hogan’s Hangout bar and weekly karaoke nights.  My visit was planned for March 14, 2022, and I was ready to impress the Hulkster will my version of Sir Mix-a-Lot’s classic “Baby Got Back”.  I arrived early to get a good spot at the bar, and I had another ace up my sleeve.  I brought a replica of the Thunderlips cape that he wore in Rocky III.  There was no way that I could leave without a photo.

After meeting and chatting with longtime WWE/WCW manager and Hulk’s personal friend, Jimmy Hart, I again took my spot at the bar and waited with excited anticipation like I did when I was a kid awaiting his entrance at the Philadelphia Spectrum.   Usually arriving between 8:15-8:20, Hulk didn’t arrive until after 8:30 and while he still made an entrance, it was a bit subdued.  He then took the microphone and announced that he had just received the phone call that his friend and NWO partner Scott Hall had passed away a few minutes prior after being removed from life support following a heart attack.  Hulk then sent a round of drinks throughout the bar so we could all share a toast.

After that, the karaoke started.  There wasn’t a board to see who was scheduled in queue and I impatiently waited to hear my name.  I had heard that others had sent the DJ a Venmo bribe to ensure they were called.  It was too late for that route.  I could not think of leaving without getting that photo opportunity.  Not only would I get ribbed mercilessly, but I also knew the reality of the rigors that professional wrestling takes on the body.  Scott Hall had just passed away that day.  Others like Roddy Piper, Randy Savage, Ultimate Warrior, and Curt Henning all died young.  I couldn’t take the risk of waiting another year.  I maneuvered myself towards the front, like I was navigating to the restroom, and I found the perfect spot where Hulk would pass on his way out.  As he was getting ready to leave, he saw me and gave a “Yo Thundelips.  Great cape, Brother!” comment.  In that moment, I was not a 45-year-old insurance executive.  I was again 10 years old, and my favorite wrestler was calling me out.  I extended my hand, and he accepted.  Knowing I only had a second, I had the camera on selfie and got my photo. 

A few weeks before my 2023 Clearwater trip, I saw that Hulk was doing a signing at his beach shop on the day I was scheduled to arrive.  I had a morning flight and if all went well, unlike the six-hour delay the prior year due to a fuel leak, I would be able to get a photo and signature.  I purchased the appearance ticket and prayed for no delays.  After arriving with no issues, I took my place in line which was about a two-hour wait.  Why so long?  Because Hulk wanted to take a few moments with everyone.  When it was my turn, I introduced myself as “Tony Tornado” from Philadelphia.  He responded “YO TONY TORNADO!  What’s up, brother?”  He asked if I was a wrestler and responded that I was not a wrestler but a boxer.  He threw his hands up saying, “Don’t hit me, brother!”  I thanked him for making my childhood special, especially that first Wrestlemania with my dad, and he signed a red Hulkamania tanktop for me.  I told him that I would see him on Monday night for karaoke. 

Unlike the previous year, they had an electronic board where you could see where you were in the queue.  I arrived with some friends and texted in my go-to song except they had put time limit restrictions of four minutes, likely because the previous year, people were choosing songs like “Stairway to Heaven” and “Rappers Delight” (short version) that were lengthy song choices and didn’t give others their opportunity.  With my signature song off the book, I opted for Run DMC’s classic “It’s Tricky” since they had performed at Wrestlemania V.  Adorned in my Thunderlips cap and white fedora with matching red feathers and awaiting Hulk’s entrance, my friend pointed to the song queue board showing that I was second to sing.  When he finally entered a few minutes after my performance, he saw the cape and fedora and boomed “Tony Tornado!  Are you singing, Brother?”  I told him that I had already sang and he responded to come up to the stage because he wanted a photo with me.  If I was on Cloud 9 the previous year, this totally blew it out of the water.  A few of my friends also sang and we toasted a few shots in celebration, a move that I regretted later as the next day’s hangover was not a pleasant one.

I did sing one more time at Hogan’s Hangout in 2024.  I got to Clearwater Beach late and saw some friends at the bar right as Hulk was just arriving.  I joined them and contemplated whether I would sing or not.  Once legendary major league pitcher Roger Clemens and his son Kody entertained with a Toby Keith tribute song, I decided to put my name in.  This time they let me sing my go-to tune and I was able to take a selfie with Hulk while in the middle of my lyrical rampage or Sir Mix-a-Lot’s classic tune. 

As the night was winding down, I had a moment to talk to his son, Nick.  I showed a picture from the previous year’s Rocky Run, where I had completed a 5K on a sprained ankle in a full Thunderlips costume, including a costume muscle suit, fedora, cape, compression socks gimmicked to look like wrestling boots with tassels, and carrying a championship belt.  Nick took my phone and showed it to his father who looked at me and said “You ran in that?  Nice job, Brother!”  That was the last night that I saw Hulk Hogan in person.

They always say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.  I’ve been imitating Hulk Hogan for over 40 years now, whether it was cupping my hand to my ear and posing while on camera at a Phillies game, dressing as Hulk for our work Halloween party and bringing and extra shirt just so I could imitate his tearing the shirt off during my parade entrance, doing the Rocky Run dressed as Thunderlips while captaining a team named “The Ultimate Meatballs”, or doing a Hulk Hogan promo while selling Christmas trees.

I built a tradition every year with my nephews buying them Hulk Hogan shirts.  I bought Dominic his first shirt, the classic yellow, when he was just a year old in 2018.  When my nephew Matteo was born three months early, I was in Clearwater.  I went to the shop the next day and bought him a Hulkamania infant jumper.  When he was finally able to come home after months in the NICU, his parents dressed him in that leaving the hospital.  He had made his first Hulk Hogan superman comeback in life.  This year, I bought our matching shirts again and the young lady running the register remembered me and my tradition with the boys.  She gifted them both costume mustaches.  When I gave them their shirts and mustaches, they were so excited to take their pictures.  Matteo even fell asleep in the car wearing his shirt and mustache.  I felt like the coolest uncle in the world.  Because of Hulk Hogan, I was able to give these two little boys a tradition that they could look forward to.

Last Thursday, the news of Hulk Hogan’s sudden passing sent a shock through the wrestling and entertainment communities.  There had been rumors of serious health struggles following cervical fusion surgery.  Some reports had him on his deathbed and others said he could no longer speak.  A report from Jimmy Hart came out on Thursday morning that the reports were exaggerated, and Hulk was recovering, slower than expected, but still recovering.  A few hours later, the news broke that he was gone after suffering cardiac arrest at his residence.

I had just finished a meeting at work when I saw a direct message from a friend saying “Hulk died!” with the TMZ link.  Before I could even click the link, I had another message, then a text, as everything moved in a blur.  This was Hulk Hogan.  Surely, he would kick out one more time at the count of two, power up and stare the Grim Reaper down.  Sadly, it was true, and our beloved Hulk Hogan was gone.  I arrived at the gym after work that evening and finished my last round on the heavybag with Hogan’s signature tune “Real American” cranked up through my headphones.  About to leave, I saw a friend and mutual wrestling fan.  We shared our disbelief, and he uttered some disgust at people on social media celebrating his death.  As we were talking, the reality started hitting both of us and we stood there as two grown adults, one a weightlifter and one a boxer, both holding back tears.

To truly memorialize Hulk Hogan, you also must remember that he was a real human being.  Terry Bollea had faults and made mistakes.  He had been accused of playing politics backstage and holding back other wrestlers.  There was a rant at his home that captured a racial slur that he may have said in anger.  What recently hurt his popularity with many people was the backing of a polarizing political candidate.  Many people who had been fans never forgave him for the racial slur and others turned on him for his political affiliation.

For me to remember Hulk Hogan, the wrestler, and Terry Bollea, the man, I accept the fact that we are all human, and we all have faults.  Many who work in any business can be accused of using clout and gossip to further their own careers while holding back colleagues.  In what has been the supposed sanctity of our own home, many of us have said things that could be considered racist, sexist, or homophobic.  Many times, those words are said in anger and not a true reflection of one’s true feelings.  With regards to political candidates, it is a very slippery slope in this divided culture.  But, part of the freedoms we enjoy is the right to vote as we desire and back any political candidate we choose.  To blindly hate a person, especially a person you have never met, solely for political reasons, shows a narrow-minded view of the world.  You can disagree with their stance, but you can still enjoy their form of entertainment.

I will remember Terry Bollea had faults.  He was a human like the rest of us.  But I will also remember the good he brought into the world.  He revolutionized the wrestling industry just like Babe Ruth did for baseball.  Without Hulk Hogan, the wrestling boom of the 80s would never have occurred.  Vince McMahon’s vision of a global federation would have likely faltered.  Without Hulk Hogan, there would be no Wrestlemania, no Monday Night Wars, no Rock, no Stone Cold, no John Cena, etc.  Aside from building that foundation, I will also remember the good he brought into the world.  He visited sick children up until his final weeks.  He inspired kids to work out, to train, say their prayers, and take their vitamins.  Most importantly, he made you feel good about yourself. He made you believe in something bigger than life.  He really was the “Babe Ruth of Wrestling.”  There was baseball before Babe Ruth and baseball has flourished in the decades after his passing.  Players are faster, stronger, and better conditioned.  But there still is only one Babe Ruth.  Just like in wrestling.  There was wrestling before Hulk Hogan and today’s wrestlers are more acrobatic and more athletic.  But there still is and will always be only one Hulk Hogan.

After Hulk’s passing last week, one of the things that hit me the hardest was the thought that some of the traditions I had built the last few years would no longer continue.  It took me a few days, but I decided that I will continue to don the Thunderlips attire for the Rocky Run, similar to my friend Mark who continues to honor the late Burt Young and his Paulie character during his participation.   I still plan to do Hulk Hogan imitations while at the tree lot while trying to entertain our customers.  Most importantly, I want to keep my annual tradition with Dominic and Matteo.  Indications are that his shop in Clearwater Beach will remain open and, for as long as it is, I will continue that special tradition of buying us matching shirts and taking photos of us posing. 

Terry Bollea may be gone.  I believe in God and the afterlife.  I believe that Terry has been forgiven, and he now resides in paradise.  While Terry Bollea may be gone, the legend of Hulk Hogan will live now and forever.  Heroes get remembered but legends never die.  And Hulkamania will live forever.

Hulk Hogan, I would like to thank you.  Thank you for bringing joy to my childhood.  Thank you for giving me the strength to break out of my shell and make friends in my new school.  Thank you for making me believe in the power of training, prayers, and vitamins.  Thank you for making me believe that a mortal man can really be a superhero.  Thank you for showing me that it can be cool to be bad.  Thank you for giving me something to share with my nephews.  Thank you for your kindness when I finally got to meet you.  And most of all, thank you for bringing Hulkamania into my life.  Rest in Peace!