It is fitting that what was arguably Hulk Hogan’s most memorable late-career public appearance at the 2024 Republican National Convention happened almost exactly a year before his death. In his speech, Terry Bollea (Hulk’s real name) expressed his reluctance to speak on politics. But he said that the humiliations and degradations that had been inflicted upon the American people compelled him to speak out.
Mentioning America’s former greatness, Hogan lamented that “we lost it all in the blink of an eye” when Joe Biden took over. But pointing at Donald Trump, the once-and-future president, Hogan announced, “With our leader up there, my hero, that gladiator, we’re going to bring America back together, one real American at a time, brother!”
Hulk Hogan’s meteoric rise coincided with Trump’s in the 1980s. That era is almost certainly the one that Trump’s political motto—Make America Great Again—implicitly references as our bygone halcyon days. It was a period of unbridled optimism. Ronald Reagan announced it was “morning again in America.” The economy was thriving, and Donald Trump was living proof that the possibilities in America were limitless. We were on the verge of winning the Cold War. Movies like Rocky, Top Gun, Red Dawn, and so many more were unabashedly nationalist and patriotic; children watched cartoons like G.I. Joe.
As a child, I was particularly drawn to stories, books, and films that revolved around moral clarity. I loved Star Wars largely because it was absolutely clear that Darth Vader was the embodiment of evil, and Luke, Yoda, and Obi-Wan were avatars of goodness and justice. We liked games like “Cops and Robbers” for the same reason. Naturally, I fell in love with the vivid morality plays staged by the World Wrestling Federation (now WWE).
In the world of wrestling, it was immediately clear who the good guys and bad guys were. The good guys, or “babyfaces” as they’re called in the business, were typically fit, American, and fought with honor in the ring. The bad guys, or “heels,” were usually ugly, or foreign, or cheaters—sometimes all of the above. The 500-pound André the Giant—whom Hulk Hogan body-slammed in the unforgettable title match at Wrestlemania III—comes to mind.
I probably saw Hulk Hogan wrestle for the first time in 1984 when I was six years old. My dad always took me to matches at what was then called the War Memorial in Rochester, New York (in the era before we renamed our stadiums after corporate giants).
Hulk Hogan was not the most technically proficient wrestler of his time. Contemporaries like “Macho Man” Randy Savage or Ricky “The Dragon” Steamboat might win that designation. But Hogan was unquestionably the most charismatic figure in professional wrestling, and WWF owner Vince McMahon chose him as the foundation for building his global empire.
For the most part, Terry Bollea was a typical American kid from Florida. But as a 6’7” athlete, he always stood out in a crowd. He played in rock bands. Then, he learned to wrestle.
Early on, Bollea was billed under various names like “Sterling Golden” and “Terry Boulder.” When he began working in the WWF, McMahon helped him craft the character of Hulk Hogan. His straight, long blonde hair looked almost comical given that he was rapidly balding. Initially, McMahon wanted Hogan’s character to have an Irish-American aspect. The Irish element rapidly disappeared as Hulk gradually became an icon of American identity—the non-hyphenated kind every American aspired to be in the ‘80s.
Hogan’s ring entrance was always accompanied by the song “Real American” by recently departed rocker Rick Derringer. He typically brought an American flag with him, which he would enthusiastically wave after victories. He had an unparalleled relationship with the crowd and fed off their energy.
From the perspective of 2025, it’s almost unthinkable that someone who routinely reminded his young fans to “exercise, pray, and take their vitamins” could reach the level of celebrity Hogan achieved. But it was characteristic of the time since the viewing public still understood the importance of transmitting such virtues via popular culture.
It’s now become cliché to note the ways pro wrestling itself reflects the American fixation on spectacle, color, and enormity. But Hogan was unique in this regard: even as he wrestled, Hogan dramatized some of the most essential elements of the American character.
In his premier matches, he would often have a strong start, but would then succumb to the sustained attacks of his opponent. At just the moment when it appeared a Hogan loss was inevitable, the cheers from the crowd would reinvigorate him, and he would enter a state where he was impervious to pain—a crazed state some have called “Hulking up.” After winning the match with his signature leg drop, he would signal his gratitude to the crowd and the God he often called “the big man upstairs.” In this way, Hogan embodied the tenacious, indefatigable persistence that lies at the heart of the American ethos.
By the late ‘90s, there were already signs that the era of American greatness was waning, and some of those signs were apparent in the wrestling world. The moral clarity that defined the sport gave way to fashionable relativism and political correctness. The performative nationalism of wrestling was deemed retrograde. There would be no more bad guys like “The Iron Sheik” or “The Orient Express.”
The good guys vs. bad guys dynamic was replaced with a fixation on the antihero—new characters were designed to blur the line between good and evil. Even Hulk himself would take a “heel-turn,” aligning himself with the baddies of the New World Order. But it could not erase the squeaky-clean image he had cultivated for years, ensuring that Hogan, too, occupied a space between the darkness and the light.
Despite the changes to his wrestling persona over the years—and the various moral lapses in his personal life, which every human has—Hulk remained an icon. More than that, he embodied a particular vision of what it means to be a “real American.” For those reasons, it’s no surprise that Hulk Hogan would align himself with his fellow wrestling Hall of Famer Donald Trump in his quest to restore American greatness.
Midway through Hulk’s convention speech, noting all the attacks Trump had sustained and deflected as he pursued the prize of a revitalized America, Hogan pronounced that “Donald Trump is a real American hero.” It takes one to know one.