The "boos" heard around the world: can Hulk Hogan find redemption in professional wrestling?

I'm experimenting with writing long form articles on wrestling topics that interest me. If you're not a fan of reading, this is probably a good time to bounce to /r/scjerk or somewhere equally fun for content you might like better. On the other hand, if this kind of content appeals to you, maybe you might want to check out the wrestling booking game I'm building!

When Hulk Hogan walked out during the Netflix premiere of WWE Raw, the reaction was startling but let's be honest also painfully predictable. For one of wrestling's most iconic figures, the chorus of boos from the crowd was like being body slammed by the fans he'd spent decades entertaining. It was a moment that should have screamed to him: “Brother, we've got a problem.”

Was this the turning point? Is redemption still possible? Or is this one heel turn too far for even the most forgiving fans?

To understand the boos, you've got to remember just how big Hogan used to be. Hulk Hogan isn't just a wrestler; he was wrestling. In the 1980s, kids really did wear his red and yellow, mimicked his catchphrases, and believed in the myth of Hulkamania. To millions of us, he was our childhood hero.

But Hogan's success wasn't an accident. He was the product of a carefully crafted machine, one that emphasized spectacle over substance and image over reality. And in that image, there is no room for the kind of imperfections that have later emerged.

The larger the myth grew, the farther it had to fall. Hogan's controversies, especially the racist remarks caught on tape in 2015, weren't just a bad look; they were a betrayal. The man who preached about "taking your vitamins" and "saying your prayers" turned out to have some prayers nobody wanted to hear!

Now, Hogan himself seems to be at his wit's end. He’s not doing the soul-searching, “what can I learn from this” thing. No, he's still stuck on “How did this happen to me?”.

He views his controversies as an unfortunate twist of fate - a moment where one offhand comment spiraled into a situation that tarnished his legacy. Hogan thought he'd spend his golden years as wrestling's "Babe Ruth" - beloved and untouchable.

But the crowd's refusal to grant him that status has led him to double down. If he can't be loved by everyone, he seems determined to carve out adoration from a vocal subset, even if it means leaning into polarizing political allegiances. It’s not redemption he seeks now; it's validation.

When Hogan steps onto a stage today, WWE isn't asking fans to cheer for him. They're asking us to cheer for the idea of him - our childhoods and nostalgia. It's a clever trick, but it's wearing thin. The boos at Raw weren't just for Hogan; they were for the whole charade. Fans are smarter now, and they're tired of being asked to cheer for memories without accountability.

The boos at Raw were also a statement - if Hogan wants forgiveness, he’s got to earn it! Fans don't want the redemption arc to be written by a PR team, they want it to be authentic.

Here's where things get tricky. Fans want to forgive Hogan. They want to celebrate him while there's still time to do it. But Hogan's actions don't make it easy. His apologies feel rehearsed not heartfelt. Redemption requires more than a "Sorry I got caught brother" - it requires work, action and most importantly growth.

For fans, this creates a painful dilemma. How do you reconcile the desire to see your childhood hero redeemed... with the knowledge that he might not deserve it?

It's like watching him fumble the ball on the goal line, over and over again. You're rooting for him but he keeps tripping over his own feet.

Hogan's predicament isn't an isolated one. Chris Jericho, finds himself in a similar bind. But where Hogan's legacy is tangled in racism and a failure to reflect, Jericho's issues are a web of perceived arrogance, political posturing, and a lingering NDA scandal.

Fans aren't rejecting Jericho's current reinventions because they've been exposed to him too much or that he's lost the creativity, mastery of timing and character work that once made him such an entertaining personality.

They're rejecting him because they want accountability. They want Jericho to address the baggage that clouds his reputation and not funnel it into another "lean-into-the-online-hate" gimmick.

And here's the frustrating part... Jericho's reinventions aren't without merit. Beneath the misfires, there are glimmers of the creativity and brilliance that made him a legend. But until he steps up and deals with the hard questions, the audience won't fully buy in. Compare this to the New Day, a team that hasn't delivered anything groundbreaking in weeks but still has goodwill in spades. Why?

Because fans trust them. That trust is what Jericho and Hogan are both sorely lacking.

So, can Hogan find redemption?

Maybe. But he's running out of time. In his last two appearances, he's made it no further than the stage and looks painfully restricted mobility wise. There's no nice way to say this but the window for making things right is closing fast.

The reaction he received this past Monday might make another appearance in the near future impossible. Just how many times will they wheel him out when that's the reaction he receives?

Wrestling is all about storytelling, and right now, Hogan's story is stuck in a loop. Most of us believe that if he can't break free, his legacy won't be just about "Hulkamania" but also the cautionary tale of what happens when a hero refuses to evolve. Hogan himself seems to be betting that fans will eventually forgive him. That he's done enough apologizing.

The question is which side will fold first. Can the fans find peace with letting go of their childhood hero if he doesn't want the path of redemption they're offering him? Or will Hogan find the growth (that the Ultimate Warrior for example found right in the nick of time) to rewrite his narrative and leave the stage with dignity?