Professional wrestling icon Hulk Hogan died Thursday at 71 after suffering a cardiac arrest in Florida. Authorities confirmed his passing with no foul play suspected. For millions of Americans, “Hulkamania” was more than just entertainment—it was a cultural phenomenon that made body-slamming giants household names and turned pint-sized kids into champions of mud-stained dreams.
Hulk Hogan was a master builder of wrestling’s golden era. When he bodyslammed Andre the Giant in 1987, he wasn’t just winning a match—he was making “impossible” possible. His red-and-yellow bandanas, 24-inch pythons, and “What’cha gonna do, brother?” mantra became patriotic comebacks against life’s hard knocks.
Conservatives saw Hogan as an All-American hero who punched above life’s challenges with old-school grit. From starring in “Rocky III” to winning high-profile battles against Gawker Media for invading his privacy, he fought like a warrior for family, dignity, and truth. His $115 million legal victory proved even big-name lawsuits couldn’t body-slam real values.
Tributes flooded social media Friday. Vice President JD Vance called him a “great American icon” and remembered his childhood idol status. Florida Rep. Anna Paulina Luna praised his “Hulkamania” running wild in her district. When politicians, wrestlers, and fans all unite, you know the man was a true original.
But Hogan wasn’t just a titan of the mat—he was a flawed patriot. His mustache became more iconic than Mount Rushmore. He taught kids to “train, say your prayers, and eat your vitamins, brother”—advice that worked harder than any CNN think-piece’s moralizing. You didn’t need to agree with everything to respect his fire.
Hulkamania meant more than arm-flapping theatrics. It was the red, white, and blue antidote to entitled elites and participation trophies. Hogan reminded America that greatness isn’t handed out—it’s earned through blood, sweat, and 130 lb. dumbbells. Even as Hollywood mocked his act, Middle America kept eating up every punch and victory.
Not everyone praised the Hulkster. Critics pointed to past controversies and alleged hypocrisy. But when Florida Rep. Luna said his “legend will run wild forever,” she hit the truth: Hogan’s spirit outlived Wrestling’s staged storylines. America loves underdogs who get back, and he fought longer than most get to see.
As Hulk Hogan body-slams his way into heaven, his legacy stays welded to American exceptionalism. The Hulkster taught that any roughneck can shine brighter than fly-over-country graciousness allows. If you’re feeling down, lie on your back, flap your arms hard—and let Hulkamania’s roar shake the rafters. Rest in peace, brother.