Jake Kelly
Wrestling used to air on Saturday and Sunday mornings in between cartoons and I do not think it inaccurate to say that wrestlers have been human cartoons and comic book characters to kids for generations. That certainly explains my early interest in the True Sport of Kings. Hulk Hogan was naturally the larger-than-life Superman, always in battle with foes like the psychotic Rowdy Roddy Piper or henchmen acting on behalf of the World Wrestling Federation’s most diabolical manager, Bobby “The Brain” Heenan. Down south with the NWA was where the Road Warriors fought, a pair of face painted biker badasses with Mohawk haircuts and giant spikes in the shoulder pads they wore to the ring. They claimed to be from the windy city of Chicago, but surely no civilized city could contain these two. Of course, there was also the Eighth Wonder of the World himself, Andre the Giant. Andre had already taken a less active in-ring role by the time I started watching wrestling during the mid ‘80s. His legacy as wrestling’s greatest comic book attraction had been cemented in the 1970s, with his legendary WrestleMania III match against Hulk Hogan in 1987 more serving to close the book on his iconic career.
The true successor to Andre the Giant showed up in WCW in 1989, but nobody knew it yet. The ‘90s generation of wrestling fans demanded new levels of athleticism and the big men were no exception. A young new wrestler by the name of Mean Mark Callous caught my attention in this regard. He stood at nearly seven feet tall and weighed over three hundred pounds, but took to the air like a junior heavyweight. I would be awestruck at his ability to balance himself on the top rope (not the turnbuckle—the actual rope!) before leaping from it to smash his hapless opponent into oblivion. While I made a point to watch his matches, I also knew that he would go nowhere in WCW’s barren wrestling wasteland. Although the possibility of a monster clash with Big Van Vader sounded like fun, Mean Mark belonged in the WWF where big guys were the norm. He would need a niche to fit into though, as this bush-league “Mean Mark” thing would die a quick death in the same character-driven WWF as the likes of Hogan, the Ultimate Warrior, and the Honky Tonk Man.
Surprises in wrestling usually do not pay off, but the WWF arguably pulled off their all-time best when Ted DiBiase went deep into the pockets of his Million Dollar Man suit and pulled out Mean Mark as his mystery partner at the 1991 Survivor Series. Of course, Mark had a new name—The Undertaker! You couldn’t ask for a better way to bring Mean Mark Callous and his considerable in-ring talents to the forefront of the wrestling world. All of his signature moves—including the rope walk—were intact and tailor-made for the Undertaker characterization. Make your cracks about “workrate” all you want, but Taker’s in-ring style lent itself well to being professional wrestling’s answer to horror movie icons like Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees. Hulk Hogan had overcome seemingly insurmountable odds dealt to him by monsters of the mat like King Kong Bundy, Andre the Giant, and Earthquake; but not even he could stop the Dead Man. The Undertaker’s onslaught left considerable chinks in the Hulkster’s armor that were never truly repaired. Former World Class heel manager Percival Pringle III came aboard as Paul Bearer to help guide the Undertaker through each of his victims with the power of the urn. Bearer looked and sounded the part to a T and completed what was and probably still is the true total package of professional wrestling. Fuck “workrate.” The Undertaker didn’t need “workrate,” at least not for a while as the persona evolved.
The Undertaker’s undefeated streak at WrestleMania went unmentioned until he won the WWF championship in 1997 at WrestleMania 13. Although none of his reigns as the top titleholder have lasted very long, the Streak has become the Undertaker’s “championship” that he has defended since WrestleMania 17 in 2001. In my mind, only Shawn Michaels and C.M. Punk have posed a real threat to the Streak this entire time. The two consecutive matches against Triple H were simply there to pad the stats if you ask me, but whatever.
Eras end and everyone goes out on their back, so to speak. Andre the Giant himself enjoyed an “undefeated” win/loss record (not entirely true outside of WWF parameters, but don’t tell Vince McMahon) before Hulk Hogan ended that at WrestleMania III. Hogan attempted to pass the torch as the WWF’s greatest American hero to the Ultimate Warrior before Hulkamania finally died under a Yokozuna leg drop years later. Bret Hart had to get screwed by Vince McMahon via Shawn Michaels before “Stone Cold” Steve Austin could open his proverbial Can of Whoop-Ass on McMahon’s degenerate pawn, kicking off his legendary run as the WWF’s top dog and antihero. As much as I would like to see the Undertaker retire with the Streak intact, I also know that wrestling tradition dictates that it cannot last forever. As fans, we hate to see many of these eras conclude, while others could not have come sooner. However, we have to accept the changes when they happen because we always want new wrestlers to cheer and/or boo.
Who to end the Streak though? Who to finally put the Dead Man to rest? Will it be the hungry up-and-comer or someone already well-established and further cementing their legacy? I’m sure the Undertaker will let us know when he is good and ready, but it is fun to speculate in the meantime. I honestly thought the Streak would end at 20-1 with CM Punk at WrestleMania 29, which did not happen. By the time this issue hits the stands, the Undertaker’s WrestleMania 30 opponent will have been determined. Although it might be fitting to end the Streak then, I can’t help but think that the Undertaker will try to extend it to 25-0 before finally allowing his in-ring persona to be lowered into the earth for good. However, there is the real-world side where Mark Calaway gets in the ring with decreasing frequency as his injuries and advancing age catch up to him. The Streak might have to end earlier than Calaway wishes for it to. What a cruel irony that would be, to see the once-impervious Dead Man taken down by real life circumstances! I hope that will not be the case. The Undertaker more than deserves to go out on his own terms.
He is Andre the Giant to my generation of wrestling fans—the biggest, the baddest, and the hardest to put down for the count. Hulk Hogan body slammed his way into wrestling immortality upon his defeat of the mighty Giant at WrestleMania III. Whoever ends the Undertaker’s tale must be of the same caliber; the greatest dragon slayer of them all. The Dead Man’s legacy requires it.
