The world always saw Hulk Hogan as the larger-than-life hero, the man who told us to train hard, say our prayers, and eat our vitamins. He was the embodiment of the American dream, a cultural icon with a superhuman physique and a charisma that could fill arenas. For millions of fans, he was and will forever remain a beacon of hope and a symbol of all that is good in professional wrestling.
But for many of the men and women who shared a locker room with him for decades, the story of Hulk Hogan was far more complicated. Behind the carefully curated public persona was a man who allegedly manipulated, deceived, and betrayed his colleagues for personal gain. A man who was, in the private circles of the industry, widely regarded as one of its most self-serving and politically motivated stars.
The animosity that festered over the years found a voice in what was, at first, a simple, dismissive joke. Years after his heyday, when asked about a hypothetical match against an older Hogan, Triple H’s response was brutal and telling. He quipped that they would need “a dustpan under the ring to sweep him up.”
While it was a jab at the legend’s advanced age, it perfectly encapsulated the kind of dismissive and raw frustration that many wrestlers developed toward Hogan. It wasn’t just about professional disagreements; it was about a fundamental lack of respect that had been earned through a lifetime of questionable decisions.
The cracks in the facade began to show long before the world was ready to see them. In the mid-1980s, while Hulkamania was in full swing, wrestling was a dangerous and unprotected business. Wrestlers were classified as independent contractors, with no health benefits or a safety net for career-ending injuries. Jesse “The Body” Ventura, a charismatic and tough-as-nails former wrestler, saw the injustice of it and began an earnest attempt to organize a union.
He was risking his career for the good of the entire locker room, believing that a collective effort could finally force change. But his efforts were allegedly thwarted by the very man who was meant to be their biggest champion. According to Ventura, it was Hogan who reportedly informed Vince McMahon of the union plans, leading to Ventura’s firing and the death of the movement. This wasn’t just backstage gossip; it was a bombshell that Ventura later confirmed, stating that Hogan was a backstabber and a narcissist. The ripple effects of this betrayal can still be felt today, as professional wrestling remains a business without a union, a situation that many blame squarely on Hogan’s alleged actions.
Hogan’s political maneuvering didn’t stop there. Throughout his career, he was accused of using his influence and creative control clauses to protect his spot at the top and avoid putting over other talent. Bret Hart, one of the greatest in-ring technicians of all time, has been one of Hogan’s most vocal critics. Hart accused Hogan of sabotaging his title reign in 1993, claiming that despite plans for Hart to have a proper run as champion, Hogan persuaded McMahon to alter the ending of WrestleMania IX.
This led to Hogan, not Hart, winning the title in an impromptu match that many saw as a cheap spectacle. Hart, known for his honesty, has not held back, calling Hogan a “phony piece of…” and accusing him of abusing his power. Even the Undertaker, a man who rarely speaks ill of his peers, accused Hogan of exaggerating an injury from a tombstone piledriver in 1991 to avoid losing cleanly. For a man who built his career on a foundation of respect and loyalty, this was a massive indictment of Hogan’s character.
The world got a glimpse of the real man when Hogan made his shocking defection to WCW in 1994. While fans saw it as a business move, it was deeply personal for Vince McMahon, who had taken Hogan and made him a star. When Hogan, the company’s golden boy, turned on him, McMahon admitted that it “broke his heart.” But the real betrayal, the one that exposed Hogan’s true self to a mainstream audience, was his transformation into “Hollywood” Hulk Hogan and the formation of the New World Order.
This wasn’t just a heel turn; it was a character that allowed him to finally be the “manipulative, self-serving politician” his peers had known for years. As the villain, he didn’t have to pretend to be the all-American hero anymore, and it was absolutely captivating television. He helped WCW win the ratings war for a staggering eighty-three consecutive weeks, nearly bankrupting WWE in the process.
Behind the scenes, the alleged political power plays continued. He was accused of using his creative control to “bury” younger talent like Billy Kidman, who was reportedly told by Hogan that he “couldn’t draw flies at a flea market.” Shawn Michaels, another wrestling legend, had his own explosive confrontation with Hogan during their 2005 SummerSlam feud.
Hogan’s refusal to lose cleanly led to Michaels overselling his moves in protest. The legendary Bruno Sammartino, one of the most respected champions in wrestling history, was never impressed with Hogan’s in-ring ability and criticized his steroid use, calling him a poor representation of the business.
But nothing could prepare the wrestling community or the public for the bombshell that dropped in 2015. A sex tape from 2007 was leaked, which revealed Hogan using racial slurs repeatedly and making racist comments about his daughter’s dating life. The man who had preached about believing in yourself and treating everyone equally was exposed as someone who held deeply prejudiced views. The wrestling world’s reaction was swift and brutal. WWE fired him immediately, removed him from the Hall of Fame, and erased him from programming. CM Punk, who had already expressed dislike for Hogan, became even more vocal about his hatred.
MVP publicly labeled Hogan a racist, stating bluntly that “Hogan is a racist because of what he said on camera.” For wrestlers of color, the betrayal was not just professional; it was deeply personal. They had to work with this man, shake his hand, and take his advice, all while he was harboring these racist attitudes. This wasn’t a single mistake; it was a pattern of thinking that extended even to his recent ventures, such as the 2024 incident where he allegedly fired his black beer ambassador, Esi Janai, after learning her race. The scandal recontextualized everything Hogan had done throughout his career, casting a much darker shadow over his reluctance to put over black wrestlers and his questionable backstage politics.
The later years of Hogan’s life were filled with as much public turmoil as his career. His messy divorce from Linda Hogan in 2007 included allegations of infidelity, while his son Nick’s devastating car crash in 2007, which left a passenger with lifelong brain damage, revealed a father who made insensitive comments about the tragedy being “God’s will.” He was simultaneously engaged in a massive, financially backed lawsuit against Gawker over the sex tape that had exposed his racist comments. While he won $140 million in damages, a victory for privacy rights, it couldn’t buy back his reputation. The win showed his willingness to use extreme legal measures to protect a public image that was, at its core, a carefully crafted lie.
The cumulative effect of Hogan’s actions throughout his decades-long career painted a picture of someone who consistently put his own interests above everyone else, regardless of the consequences for his colleagues or the business itself. His public persona was a lie, a carefully constructed character that he lived in for so long that many, including himself, likely forgot where the character ended and the man began.
On July 24th, 2025, Terry “Hulk” Hogan Bollea died at age seventy-one from cardiac arrest. The wrestling world was faced with the impossible task of honoring a complicated legacy. Triple H, now WWE’s chief content officer, was put in the difficult position of memorializing a man who had not only hurt his colleagues but had also personally frustrated him. But his response was revealing in its careful balance.
He narrated an emotional video package, calling Hogan “the archetype of a superstar who inspired millions.” His social media tribute was measured, stating that “WWE would not be where it is today without few if any loomed larger than Terry ‘Hulk’ Hogan Bollea.” His words acknowledged Hogan’s impact without ignoring the controversies. It was a professional tribute that spoke volumes about the complex feelings within the wrestling community, a community that had lived with the contradictions of Hulk Hogan for decades. In the end, Hogan’s death forced the world to finally confront the reality that for all the good he did for the wrestling business, he was ultimately a deeply flawed man. A legend, yes, but a hero, perhaps only in the fictional world of a wrestling ring.
