The Rock is my favorite wrestler.

I’ve come to this conclusion after much deliberation. He’s on a short list alongside CM Punk, Bret Hart, Sami Zayn, Stone Cold Steve Austin, and Mick Foley.

It’s not hard to figure out why The Rock is my favorite. His ascent to WWF super stardom (and beyond) perfectly coincided with my adolescence. In those precious and impressionable years, he provided a respite from turmoil and angst. I would look forward to Raw and SmackDown every week in intense anticipation of what he might say and on whom he might layeth the smacketh down. Every new catchphrase was a significant event. Every gesture or subtle motion of his body was worthy of imitation. I would play him in my living room, using sofa cushions as opponents, delivering the Rock Bottom and People’s Elbow to thunderous applause. I’d climb up the corner of my couch, as if it were a turnbuckle, and flick my toy WWF Championship up and over my arm just like The Rock. I would literally move through the halls of my high school mimicking The Rock’s walk, his broad, purposeful stride and occasional snap of the head to one side. I was never able to do The People’s Eyebrow, but not for lack of trying. I would also cut promos as The Rock in front of my bathroom mirror, usually on that stupid son of a bitch, Triple H. These gestures and phrases are the sights and sounds of the last days of my childhood, and I’ll be forever grateful to Dwayne Johnson for providing me that joy and guidance when I needed it.

I can’t say enough about how The Rock helped me navigate those, at times, awful years. I was a deeply shy, often angry teen who didn’t quite understand how to be social. I had passions, though, and they’re the same ones I nourish today: writing, filmmaking, video games, and professional wrestling. Those years were difficult for all the typical early aughts teen reasons. I didn’t know how to “talk to girls”, I didn’t have many friends, and the only place I felt confident was in English class. But there was a deeper reason those years were so difficult, and thus a deeper reason The Rock meant (and continues to mean) so much to me.

My father, who died July 24th, 2009, was an alcoholic. He was 56 years old when he went, and it was drink that took him.

My dad was not a bad person. In fact, he was quite good. But he was incredibly difficult, and at times (especially when he was drunk) completely impossible. He loomed like a dark cloud over my adolescence, an ever present threat to whatever I happened to be doing. I vividly remember hearing the beep, beep, beep of his vehicle backing into our driveway. I’d be enjoying episodes of The Simpsons or Seinfeld and that beep would slash through my peace of mind. He’d come into the house, visibly drunk, and sit down on the floor next to my chair and just talk. I can’t remember what he would say - probably diatribes about his job - but I do remember the feeling of fear his presence inspired in me. I was afraid to speak, afraid not to speak, trapped.

I know my dad felt disconnected from his sons and I know he understood it was his own fault. But this meant, when he was drunk, he’d try desperately to forge a connection. What likely seemed harmless, even fatherly to him, was, in actuality, terrifying. He never physically abused me, but the unintentional psychologic abuse was certainly present.

I never tried to keep the secret of my dad’s addiction. I wanted to call it out, shove it in his face, and force him to change. One day when he was drunkenly talking to my mom at our kitchen table, I’d had enough. I went outside to his car where I knew he kept a bottle of Canadian whiskey, grabbed it, went back into the kitchen, and raised the bottle over my head saying, “Huh, huh?” as if to say, “What now?” I was tired of everyone being silent about this. His response surprised me. He became very serious and asked me, very politely, to sit down and talk about it. I refused and stormed off outside. He wound up sitting on our front doorstep waiting for me to come back. He said, “Don't test me, Tim” and that’s when I got in his face and said, “You don’t want to test me, dad!” It felt good to threaten him.

His response, again, surprised me. He said, “Don’t be a wrestler to me, Tim.”

He knew I loved pro-wrestling, so I believe he thought I was trying to be a tough guy wrestler cutting a promo. Maybe I was, but I meant what I said. I’d had enough of my dad’s drunken diatribes. I’d had enough of him terrorizing me around the house, commenting on every move I made if he spotted me going into the kitchen, using the computer in the family room where he sat and drank (we only had one computer in those days and the internet was dial up, excruciatingly slow), or spending too much time in my room. Wrestling, and admiring The Rock, gave me the confidence to stand up for myself and for my mom. In The Rock I’d found the role model my father simply couldn’t be. That’s probably why my dad was a bit jealous of The Rock. I remember I wanted to have a haircut like The Rock’s, for the hair to taper into a V-shape on the back of my neck.

My mom cut our hair in the kitchen, which had a direct line of sight into the family room where my dad watched TV and drank beer after work. I hated sitting on a stool between the wall and the peninsula. I could see him watching us. My dad, suspicious of my hair request, asked why I wanted it cut that way. When I told him it was because of The Rock he grumbled under his breath and resumed watching the TV. Unfortunately, my mom could never quite make the V happen, but the consistency of my hair was to blame, not her barber-skills.

The Rock would leave WWE full-time and he took my interest in pro-wrestling with him. It became harder to sustain a fandom in Raw and SmackDown, and I watched less and less until, finally, I didn’t watch at all. It wasn’t until college when I met another wrestling fan that my interest renewed. Al Monelli was my roommate and he was a huge John Cena fan, going completely against the grain at the time (this was 2005-2009). Al’s passion for pro-wrestling was infectious, and that’s when I started to learn about the art of it all. I watched Beyond The Mat and Wrestling With Shadows for the first time, captivated by the behind the scenes access these documentaries offered. I fell in love with pro-wrestling, not just one particular wrestler. Watching Monday Night Raw every week became our ritual.

During this time I didn’t have much of a relationship with The Rock. I certainly wished him success, but I wasn’t invested like I was as a teen. I did watch a few of his movies out of curiosity. I thought The Gameplan was a good children’s film, and that Faster was a fun, under-appreciated revenge flick. I was still somewhat mad at The Rock for leaving WWE, though. While I knew that was childish, it wasn’t an emotion I could escape. I’d felt abandoned by my idol, and I know many other fans of my generation felt the same - that’s how intense the bond was as a kid.

Now I look back on that experience of “abandonment” as formative, a necessary process that teaches one an important lesson about life; nothing lasts, good times and bad alike. It’s important to remember that The Rock’s relationship to wrestling was very different in those years from how it is today. He appeared to be purposefully distancing himself (likely the advice of the people around him) from pro-wrestling in an effort to legitimize his film career. Today, The Rock is something altogether different and seemingly in alignment with who he really wants to be. He regularly acknowledges his pro-wrestling career now. It’s simply one of many facets of his personality represented online, and it enhances his stardom rather than detracts.

Why does it feel so good to have Dwayne Johnson acknowledge his prior life as The Rock, especially after all those years away? It validates my memories, my adolescence. It’s a way of preserving how much he helped me, and got me through those years to the far happier college days. By not acknowledging his wrestling career it was as if he was saying, “None of that ever happened” and so I was left feeling hollow. When he returned in 2011 and said, “I want to tell you thank you, I love you…and I am never, ever going away” it was a way of reestablishing a healthy relationship with the art of wrestling and the fans who loved him. It was also saying the exact, comforting words I wanted to hear as a teen.

I remember watching WrestleMania 28 when he faced John Cena for the first time and it was like my fifteen year old self possessed my mind and body. I loved the match, rooting for The Rock from start to finish. I also thought, If The Rock still loves professional wrestling, he’s going to do a dive off the top rope. Sure enough, The Rock did leap off the top rope to perform a cross body on John Cena.

The Rock gives John Cena the Rock Bottom at WrestleMania 28.

Since then it’s been fascinating to watch The Rock become an international megastar. I’m proud of him for weathering his own difficult years and becoming the man he wants to be. He has a production company, a clothing line, a tequila, a sitcom, he’s a XFL co-owner, and has several film franchises running concurrently. There was even serious talk of him running for President of the United States, in part because it was the only job suitably big enough for him (he’s announced that won’t be happening because he wants to be a present, good father). And now there’s talk of The Rock returning to the WWE for one more match against The Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns. All the ingredients are there for a stellar story, a battle that’s suitably epic for Rock and Roman.

If it happens, I’m going to listen to my inner teenager and just get swept up in the drama. I’m going to listen to that frightened kid who found a mentor in The Rock, and remember what it was like to cheer with unselfconscious joy.

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this article check out some others. You should also subscribe to my podcast The Work Of Wrestling (available wherever you get your pods every Monday). If you’d like to support me subscribe to my Patreon and you’ll get two exclusive podcasts every month. If you’re in need of a new wrestling tee-shirt visit my store at Pro-Wrestling Tees. Thank you again. May the Moment of Pop be with you!

The Rock Got Me Through My Teens

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