Don’t Tell Me How to Feel About Hulk Hogan’s Death.

Wrestling with the Legacy of Hulk Hogan as a Black Fan

I didn’t expect to feel anything when I heard Hulk Hogan had passed away two weeks ago, But I did. Not sadness. Not relief. Just… conflicted. As a Black man, that reaction in itself feels like a story. One I’m still unpacking. One I’m not sure how I’m “supposed” to tell, but here I am — telling it anyway.

Hulk Hogan was a larger-than-life figure in my childhood. I can vaguely remember begging my foster mom for a Hulk Hogan action figure , the red and yellow, the bandana, the mustache. He was the face of wrestling. He was the hero. But that toy was sold out. I ended up with a Rowdy Roddy Piper figure instead, and I remember being disappointed. That small moment said everything about Hogan’s place in the culture at the time. He wasn’t just a star , he was the star.

But by the mid-90s, I had outgrown the Hulkamania phase. I moved on to The Undertaker, whose mystique and silent power felt cooler, darker, and way more grown. My tastes evolved. The business evolved. But still, the legacy of Hulk Hogan loomed large over wrestling, and honestly, over pop culture as a whole.

Then came that moment. The moment when audio surfaced of Hogan saying he didn’t like Black people. I don’t need to repeat the full details here , most of us know them. If you don’t, Google’s free. But the pain? That was personal. It wasn’t just that he used the N-word. It was that he said he didn’t want his daughter dating a Black man. That he spoke of us , people who look like me , with disgust, like we were less than human. And it hit me like a gut punch. Not just because he was a public figure, but because he was my childhood hero.

He did apologize. Sort of. But not really. His apology wasn’t about healing or accountability. It was about reputation. He said he was sorry he got caught. He said people shouldn’t be judged for “mistakes.” But racism isn’t a mistake. It’s a mindset. A reflection of who someone really is when they think no one is watching. And Hogan showed us exactly who he was.

Even after the scandal, WWE brought him back. Quietly. Then loudly. They tried to “ease” him back into the spotlight like nothing happened. They let him host WrestleMania again. And many fans , especially white fans , welcomed him with open arms, as if the incident was a minor misstep instead of a deep betrayal of many of the same people who built wrestling’s foundation. Black fans, Black talent, Black media.

Let’s be real , Black people have always been here. Supporting this sport. Showing up to events. Creating fan culture. We don’t just buy the tickets; we shape the conversation. So when one of wrestling’s biggest icons says we’re not welcome in his world, it cuts deeper than a headline. It tells us what some people really think about the people in the crowd, even when we’re cheering.

I’ve been sitting with all of this since the news of his death broke. And the truth is, I’m still not sure how I feel. Because I remember that little boy who wanted the Hogan toy. I remember watching him bodyslam Andre the Giant. I remember the voice, the energy, the spectacle. I also remember the pain, the tape, the betrayal. I remember the MAGA hat. The performative apology. The second chances he didn’t really earn.

Some people will want to reduce Hogan’s life to a simple legacy, a wrestling legend, gone too soon. Others may focus solely on his racism, as if that alone defined him. But to me, it’s not about erasing either side. It’s about holding both truths at once. Hulk Hogan was a wrestling icon. And Hulk Hogan was a racist. There’s nothing complex about that just uncomfortable.

And I think people should be allowed to grieve , or not grieve , in whatever way makes sense to them. Black fans shouldn’t feel pressured to mourn a man who didn’t mourn us when he tried to strip us of our humanity behind closed doors. If you feel sad, fine. If you feel numb, fine. If you feel nothing at all, that’s valid too.

What I know for sure is this , I’ve made peace with the fact that my heroes won’t always be who I thought they were. And that’s okay. Because now I look up to people who see my humanity, not just my money, my fandom, or my silence.

Rest in peace, Hulk Hogan. But let’s not pretend like everyone has to say it with the same tone.

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