I wanted to be Hulk Hogan. It's true. Every Saturday morning, I would get up at the crack of dawn, grab my box of Kix and plop my seven-year old posterior into the living room chair and watch nothing but cartoons. Once the clock hit noon, it was time for my favorite program, WWF Superstars! Guys like Hulk Hogan, Macho Man Randy Savage and the Legion of Doom were my heroes, and I dreamed about one day being a pro wrestler.
Every few weekends, my brother Ryan and I -- along with my two cousins Justin and Ricky -- would have wrestling matches in our basement. Justin, who was older and bigger than the rest of us put together, was the undisputed World Champion. We made belts out of construction paper and dreamed of one day making it to the big time. During a match where Ryan was going for the World Title, he clobbered Justin with a hard kick to the back and Justin fell to the ground just like David took out Goliath. We danced and celebrated until we realized that Justin was out cold. My step-mother came downstairs and proceeded to lash us all with a wooden spoon. Then she baked us biscotti. Ahhh, what a special childhood I had.
I still held onto the dream of wrestling, though. It didn't matter that by the time I was in fifth grade I spent my weekends cramming E.L.Fudges down my throat. I wanted to be the World Champion, surrounded by beautiful women, holding the gold belt above my head and hearing the millions chanting my name. Instead, I gained about 20 pounds and had my head smashed into a window by a fourth grader.
So maybe wrestling wasn't going to be my career path. I started dreaming of other jobs like being the old dude from The Weather Channel who predicted hurricanes. Or I could build roller coasters. Perhaps be a professional bowler! But no matter what I thought up, the dream of wrestling pulled me back. My mother helped fuel this by buying all the Pay-Per-Views and telling me that she was going to marry Shawn Michaels.
She never married Shawn, but my mom eventually re-married and I had two more brothers. She introduced them to wrestling just like she did for me all those years ago. I have accepted that I may never be a professional wrestler, but for my two little brothers the dream is just blossoming. I proceed to help them with that by wrestling with them in our living room. They're getting to be in good shape. Alex loves to get me in a headlock while Billy jumps on me and kicks me continuously in the kidneys.
While some people -- i.e. the majority of Americans -- put down wrestling for being a bad influence on children, I feel that professional wrestling gives kids like me a chance to dream and build self-esteem though the message that it's OK to beat the crap out of each other with trash cans and ladders. As the Hulk himself would say, "Follow your dreams, brother"
