As a kid, I truly loved Hulk Hogan. He was every bit a superhero without a cape. He was a superman. I never ate my veggies or took vitamins because he told me to, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do his pose a million times, repeat his catchphrases constantly, leg drop my cousins, mimic his voice, or absolutely love Hollywood Hogan. I was a fan.
By the time I heard Hogan say the N-word, I was well past my Hogan-loving phase. I was into so many other things in life, but it still hit me. Of all the ways I looked up to and admired Hogan, he—like so many in the world—saw me as a “n**ger.” A n**ger he wouldn’t want near his daughter. A n**ger unworthy of dating her or truly being part of his family unless I was an 8-foot tall, millionaire n**ger. I never once dreamed of being Hulk Hogan’s son-in-law—it’s laughable—but some Black man may have considered it, only to discover that his skin color disqualified him in the eyes of her father.
Racism hurts. It’s hard to describe, but if I had to, I’d say it’s debilitating. I don’t understand how a man I once admired could find my skin color so deplorable and his own so acceptable. On camera, Hogan shared the stage with Junkyard Dog, Mr. T, Booker T—and seeing him and Junkyard Dog together as a kid made me believe race didn’t divide friendships in wrestling. It made me believe color didn’t hold you back from the top. I was too young to recognize that, while some Black wrestlers were wildly popular, they were still being held away from the top. Too young to see that no matter the charisma or fanfare, they couldn’t truly be the face of the organization.
In a world where racism dominates, there are limits to how far you can soar when you’re seen as the “lesser” race.
As a grown man, I’ve traveled to places like Disney World and seen things differently. I once took a behind-the-scenes tour and learned about Walt Disney—his innovations, his ideas, and the immense work it took to bring his dreams to life. I admired him. Then I saw a picture of his original team—black and white, smiling faces. All white.
I searched for just one Black face in the photo and found none. That moment of inspiration turned into a moment of reflection. I thought about how impossible it would’ve been for a Black man to pull off what Disney did back then. The meetings he would’ve never been invited to, the hell he would’ve faced trying to be included. If Walt Disney had been born a Black man in America, his vision may have never gotten a fair shot.
That’s what racism does. And it stays in your mind. That gap in opportunity. That delay in representation. Today, Black creatives like Tyler Perry, Ryan Coogler, and Issa Rae are pushing boundaries. But let’s be honest—white creatives had one hell of a head start in America.
I tell that story to emphasize the reality of being Black in this country. The MAGA movement—championed by Donald Trump—reminds us of those days. He’s attacked nearly every effort to level the playing field: diversity programs, educational access, higher-paying jobs, and grants that gave marginalized groups a fighting chance. I know of one school that had to eliminate ten Ph.D. opportunities for minority students this year. And while all of that is happening, Hulk Hogan stood firm as a MAGA supporter.
The reality is, Hogan was a racist. He didn’t judge men based on merit or character. He judged them by skin color. He deemed Black men unworthy to be part of his family. And while I’m thankful for the joy, entertainment, and even confidence he gave me as a child—I hate the way he saw Black men.
I appreciate what D-Von Dudley shared about him—and I’ll share that below—but at the end of the day, I know that if my private words were recorded and made public, I wouldn’t lose many fans. Not because I’m perfect, but because I haven’t had the platform Hogan had. I haven’t made millions feel like they belonged, only to later make them feel like hard ERs (n**gERS)
Hulk Hogan made me laugh. He made me believe. He made me a Hulkamaniac.
And then, he made me remember that America still sees me as a n**ger.
And that’s a devastating end to a life that once meant so much.
D-Von Dudley Defends Hulk Hogan
On his podcast with The Duke, D-Von Dudley offered a more forgiving perspective on Hogan’s controversial legacy. Acknowledging the hurtful impact of Hogan’s comments, D-Von said, “I’m African-American. I get it. Okay? If anybody gets it, it’s us.” Still, he emphasized Hogan’s unmatched impact on the wrestling world, arguing that without Hogan, there might be no WWE, AEW, or TNA. D-Von shared a personal story of how Hogan once pulled him aside, apologized, and told him he loved and respected him. He urged listeners to remember the Bible’s call to forgiveness and criticized those who trashed Hogan in life only to praise him in death, calling it hypocrisy.
In short, while D-Von acknowledged the pain of Hogan’s past, he reminded us that forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting—but that it may be the only path forward for those seeking to honor a legacy as complex as Hulk Hogan’s.
