I believe in superheroes. I always have.
Ever since I was a little guy (and trust me, there is photo evidence of this fact), my mom always told me that I was fascinated by two things: superhero shows and professional wrestling. So much so that when I was about three, she made me a Batman costume for Halloween that was so detailed, it even had stuff in the utility belt. A costume that was so awesome that when I truly embraced my over-the-top fandom of Batman in my adolescence, one of my closest friends named Luis Fisher found that picture and said, "OK, I give up... You really ARE Batman".
As much as it pained her and made her roll her eyes, she could not get me away from the theatrics and athleticism of professional wrestling. I would watch anything I could feast my eyes upon: (the then) WWF, NWA (on Superstation TBS,which would become WCW), AWA (from Minnesota), Mid-Atlantic (from North Carolina), Georgia Championship Wrestling, Florida Championship Wrestling, GWF (from Memphis), and even G.L.O.W. (Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling... that's right, I said it). If there were athletes in the squared circle putting on a show, I was right there with it.
(And let's put this out there right now so you, dear reader, don't get it twisted: My loving and sainted mother "smartened" me up to the business at a young age, helping me understand what was going on so I could be in the right frame of mind.)
With all of the Hulk Hogans, the "Macho Man" Randy Savages, Ric Flairs, Ted DiBiases, Ricky Steamboats, and more, there was one guy that I gravitated towards when he burst on the scene in the late 1980s. A guy that took wrestling fans by storm and was the ultimate good guy, or "babyface," that took it straight to the bad guys, or "heels". He always stood for what was right, even if that meant teaming up with his rivals to take on even bigger bad guys.
And he was the man they called "Sting".
He was in amazing shape, had a blonde flat top haircut and face paint that was different each and every time he came to the ring with a scream that the fans would echo to him each and every time, especially when it would be followed by the "Stinger Splash" up against his opponent when they were holding onto the turnbuckle for dear life. His matches with Ric Flair were legendary, his work teaming with guys like Ricky Steamboat or Lex Luger or even Robocop (yes, you read that right... not a very proud moment, but it happened) was the stuff fans and journalists would talk about constantly.
Over the years, his character would go through a number of changes that started with a character that resembled the Brandon Lee and comic book icon "The Crow," and would continue on with a color change to red to join the nWo Wolfpac, a Joker-like phase with red, black, and white, and even a Don Corleone-ish character in a stable known as the Main Event Mafia. And through it all, as characters and personalities would come and go around him, he was always the guy that I tuned in to see.
Not only would he evolve as a character, but as the years went on, he would evolve as a man behind the scenes as well. He would find faith (which he would even admit turned a huge corner for him) and he would be seen as the man who was faithful through the end. When WCW was bought out by the rival WWE, he did not join the new company. He pretty much disappeared from the industry until Jeff Jarrett would form TNA wrestling in the early 2000s. He helped build that company up as long as he could before moving on and doing the one thing that no one (including me) would thought ever would be possible.
He would join the rank and file of the WWE.
During Survivor Series in 2014, he appeared at the end of the show, finally answering all of the speculation surrounding him for over a decade. It would lead to two matches in 2015, the second of which would have a freak accident require neck surgery. He disappeared off of television after that, and the future would be unknown to the man known to many as Steve Borden, and to me as my television superhero.
Fast forward a bit to 2016, and as the biggest show of WWE's year, WrestleMania 32, approached and would be held near my home at AT&T Stadium in ARLINGTON, TEXAS (you're welcome, A-town), it was announced that Sting would be the headliner for the annual Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony, held the night before. It is always an amazing show, and thanks to the generosity of a friend, I was able to be in attendance at the ceremony earlier this evening. As the three hours before his induction passed, I grew more and more anxious to see my super hero appear in all of his glory and give a speech that surely would wow the crowd and stir up a frenzy of emotion to the fans (and current superstars) in attendance.
As his longtime rival, Ric Flair, gave his speech to induct Sting, I felt a welling of pride in my spirit and a humbling thankfulness to be there live to see the entire moment unfold in front of me. He came out, the crowd went wild. He did his signature scream to both sides of the American Airlines Center, and we all ate it up like we did when we were kids. Without any makeup (or even shades this time), hair darkened and a bit longer than it was in his flat top days, Sting delivered a speech that had each and every person in the arena hanging on his every word. He didn't need a ring or an elaborate entrance or even cool lighting; we all had been on this journey with him for over two and a half decades and we were right there with him tonight.
As the crowd chanted "one more match" and even "Undertaker" (the dream match that many of us fans have wanted for over twenty years), I had a feeling in my heart that neither of those things would be possible. The reports of the injury to his neck were too loud to ignore, and as much as I wanted to hear his theme hit during WrestleMania 32, it just didn't seem to be in the cards. That feeling would be justified as he announced his retirement from the ring at the end of his speech.
There is a saying: Father Time is undefeated. To have a career that lasted as long as Sting's did with some of my favorite memories within "the business," I may be bummed to see him ride off into the sunset as an in-ring performer, but I have no doubt that this weekend will be the last time I will see him on WWE programming. As the chants of "Thank You Sting" ring in my head (and probably will tomorrow as he takes his bow during the Pay-Per-View), I am not only thankful that I got to see him live (and even saw him wrestle once live when he was with TNA), but I also got to see him live as he announced his retirement.
Thank you, Sting. I still believe in super heroes. And I always will.
