Deadman and Me
My greatest hero has been dead for 29 years. Mark Calaway is still very much alive at 54, but his wrestling persona, The Undertaker, debuted as a zombie-esque Old West mortician at Survivor Series 1990. What followed was arguably the most decorated and well respected career in WWE history. A career that saw 17 championship reigns, a Royal Rumble match win, and a never-to-be topped 21 straight Wrestlemania wins and that much like that undead mortician, just won’t die.
After seemingly retiring after an emotional loss to Roman Reigns at Wrestlemania 33 (His ‘Mania record as of Wrestlemania 35 is 24–2), Taker has appeared sporadically on WWE programming over the last couple years. The cynical wrestling nerd in me wishes that the sight of Taker’s mortician garb properly folded in the ring was his epilogue. The match with Reigns left a lot to be desired, but I can’t argue with the setting of Wrestlemania and he went out like every legend of the ring should: on his back. Yet seeing Undertaker every six months or so activates a nostalgia trigger in my brain that’s hard to compete with. It’s hard to say goodbye to your heroes even when you get diminishing returns. Tomorrow, he faces Goldberg, another legend of the industry, in a dream match 20 years in the making but also 20 years too late.
I became a proper wrestling fan in 2000 when it was still the WWF. It was the middle of the lauded Attitude Era, when wrestling was in the mainstream. I was barely 5 years old and the combination of fighting and over the top backstage segments drew me in like it did countless others. The biggest stars of this generation were Stone Cold Steve Austin and The Rock. Those guys were fucking cool but the guy who drew me in was The Undertaker who had redebuted after some time off as a badass biker during a 60 minute Iron Man match between The Rock and Triple H at Judgement Day 2000. Although he was “Biker Taker” at this point, his hell raising biker persona with a dash of the macabre from his original gimmick captivated me. I got really into bandanas and trying to choke slam my cousin during this period, much to the embarrassment of my family. In retrospect, his debut with the biker gimmick was the nadir of The Undertaker’s career. Biker Taker put on some weight and was sloppier in the ring. His theme music was by Limp Bizkit, a band that is only known as a punchline. Still, I ate this shit up.
The Undertaker was a totem of my obsession with wrestling. He was always my number one guy. I had flirtations with other wrestlers, but Taker was my main squeeze. It hurt when he lost the same way it hurt me when the White Sox lost. Eventually, he dropped weight and returned to form. Soon, he was back to dominating in the ring and in storylines acting as a cunning babyface and occasionally the dastardly heel. When he beat Hulk Hogan for the WWE championship, I audibly screamed “Fuck You Hogan” much to the horror of my mother and amusement of my father. It’s not like I needed validation for liking The Undertaker. At this point in his career, he became an elder statesman of wrestling and a locker room leader. While his contemporaries in the main title scene were leaving the company or out of action due to injury, Taker was a mainstay only taking time off to reintroduce his gimmicks.
After Biker Taker was buried alive by his brother Kane and WWE owner Vince McMahon at Survivor Series 2003 (long story), he took nearly six months off. At Wrestlemania XX, he was set to face Kane and came out to his old theme of the funeral march. Biker Taker was once again The Deadman. The Phenom was back and 9 year old Joshua couldn’t contain himself. He disposed of Kane in 8 minutes extending his undefeated Wrestlemania streak to 12–0. He would go on to win nine more matches at ‘Mania without suffering defeat. “The Streak” as it became known lasted 22 years. As it grew year by year, it became the most unironically cherished milestone in professional wrestling. My love affair with wrestling came to an end near the end of middle school when I became more obsessed with getting girls to like me and had to shred the baggage of childhood. I tuned in every so often but I had moved on from my days of wrestling figure collecting and Wrestling Observer Newsletter reading. My friend group in high school was also a group of lapsed wrestling fans and we talked fondly of our childhood passion. While their cherished childhood fandom was in the past, The Undertaker’s Wrestlemania streak was living, breathing survival of my fandom. I wasn’t watching anymore but every April as Taker added another win to his streak, my childhood stayed alive for another year.
My childhood died on April 6th 2014 at the hands of Brock Lesnar. After three brutal F5s, the referee counted 1–2–3. The streak was over and every wrestling fan was in a state of genuine shock. I was a freshman in college and wasn’t watching. I knew it was Wrestlemania because every wrestling fan, lapsed or not, knows when ‘Mania is, but I was probably working on a paper or more likely drinking Natty Light and eating Cool Ranch Doritos. I’m having a hard time remembering because after I received several texts that The Streak was over, I went into a daze. Looking back, I felt like that Mr. Krabs anxiety meme. I went back to my room and cried a little. He lost. Taker lost and there was nothing I could do about it. I guess I’m still not over it. Fuck it, I’m a mark, what can I say. It was one of the first times I felt that getting older hurt. Then, I realized how much of my life was dictated by if this zombie mortician won or lost a scripted match. Perhaps, it was pathetic that I cared too much about The Streak, but that’s the beauty of wrestling. It’s a sport mixed with a soap opera; the best of both worlds. It would be weird not to care too much.
Because of the very human desire to make money, The Undertaker will face Goldberg tomorrow at Super ShowDown in Saudi Arabia. Both are heroes of the 90s: Goldberg of WCW and The Undertaker of WWE. This match should have happened in 1999 or even 2009 but we’re getting it in 2019 where both men are comfortably over 50. There is no way this match will be “good” in a work rate sense. I imagine it will last less then 10 minutes with each wrestler hitting their finishing moves a few times and then one man will pin the other. I am very deliberately writing this cavalierly, so I can hide how much I will pop if Taker reverses Goldberg’s spear to a Tombstone Piledriver for the three count.
There’s a Mountain Goat’s song “Animal Mask” from their 2015 album about professional wrestling Beat the Champ John Darnielle sings Some things you still remember/Some things stay sweet forever. That’s my relationship with professional wrestling. I’ve gotten hardcore back into it since January after a near ten year absence. For as flawed as the wrestling business is, it’s something I’ve cared about in some way for most of my life and I can’t just pretend that the kid who got way too excited when he heard the funeral march doesn’t still exist. It’s still real to me, damnit.
