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.
Read MoreLike many in the pro-wrestling community the first time I ever saw Bray Wyatt was when he debuted on the main roster, Luke Harper and Erik Rowan at his side. I then watched, over the next several months, as this transfixing character grabbed hold of the hearts and minds of the audience. Everything he did intoxicated us. I particularly remember his unnerving renditions of “He’s got the whole world in his hands…” and the crowd singing it back in unison. Bray’s entrance music was distinct and eerie in a mediocre soup of rock riffs. He seemed to glide to the ring as his fireflies - wrestling fans with their cell phone flashlights turned on in the dark - guided him toward the ring. That use of technology, the natural evolution of holding a lighter up, was a literal manifestation of the metaphorical relationship between character and fan.
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