Hogan Hulk - My Life Outside the Ring

MY LIFE OUTSIDE THE RING

ALSO BY HULK HOGAN

Hollywood Hulk Hogan

HULK HOGAN
with MARK DAGOSTINO

St. Martins Press New York

MY LIFE OUTSIDE THE RING . Copyright 2009 by Eric Bischoff Group, LLC. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. For information, address St. Martins Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.stmartins.com

Book design by Rich Arnold

Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920. www.alivecommunications.com.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Hogan, Hulk, 1953

My life outside the ring / Hulk Hogan with Mark Dagostino. 1st ed.
p. cm.

ISBN 978-0-312-58889-2

1. Hogan, Hulk, 1953Juvenile literature. 2. WrestlersUnited StatesBiographyJuvenile literature. 3. ActorsUnited StatesBiography. I. Dagostino, Mark. II. Title.

GV1196.H64A3 2009

796.812092dc22

[B]

2009023450

First Edition: October 2009

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

To Brooke and Nick, for accompanying me on this
journey from old life to new.
I love you.

To Jennifer, for helping me realize how beautiful life is.
I love you.

To Linda, I pray that you find peace and joy in life.
I love you.

This book could not have been written without the support of great friendssome old, some newand Im grateful for all of them.

Thanks to Eric Bischoff for being there every step of the way. Jason Hervey for bringing me relief when the chips were down. Henry Holmes for seeing me through the last twenty-five years. Scott Hervey for taking on my new burdens. Also Peter Young, my agent, who has become my blood brother. David Houston for absorbing the attacks of the last two years while turning into a real friend and guiding light in the process. Also, to Michael Bernard Beckwith and James Arthur Ray for awakening the Spirit of Christ that has always been in me. I know now I am responsible for my own joy and happiness.

Nothing would be possible without the support of the Hogan Hit Menthe guys who would lay down their lives for me (as I would for them)Jimmy Hart, Brian Knobs, Brutus, and Big Todd Yeah-Yeah-Yeah. And, of course, the man wholl take our antics to the grave and whos always there no matter how heavy it gets, Bubba the Love Sponge. (No, Linda, we are not gay lovers.)

I would also like to thank Elizabeth Rosenthal for always watching my back, not to mention making the connection that sparked this book in the first place. Joel Kneedler at Alive Communications and Kathryn Huck at St. Martins Press for making it possible that my words actually land on the bookshelves. Steve Chapman for being such a good friend and holding down the neighborhood! Finally, thanks to my personal shrinkMark Dagostinofor helping me write one hell of a book!

Im heading into the second half of the game now; Im especially grateful to Nick, Brooke, and Jennifer for moving forward with mepresent and aware in every moment.

I bless those who curse me and pray for those who have spitefully used me. I am sorry, I had to leave them behind.

Three pounds. I remember thinking, Three pounds of pressure is all it takes to pull this thing. Do you know how easy that wouldve been? Id been staring at myself in the bathroom mirror for two days straight. Two days. A gun was in my hand and my finger was on the trigger and I was thinking, It would just be so easy. I felt like a snake charmer. I was headed down this dark road convincing myself it was a road I wanted to take. The weird thing was, I didnt even remember bringing that gun into the bathroom. When did I pick this up? Was it in the safe? Did I have it in the car with me the other night? I bought that gun years ago to protect my family. A last resort. Was I really gonna use it for this?

I popped half a Xanax and took another swig from the big bottle of Captain Morgans Id set on the counter.

The house was empty. Too quiet. I dont do well alone. My kids were gone. My wife was gone. She had left before, but this was different. She didnt want to fix things. Shed filed for divorceactually went to a lawyer and filed papers after twenty-three years. My mind kept running through it all, over and over. My daughter thinks Im the reason Linda left. Theres so much I want her to understand, but she wont talk to me. She wont hear my side of the story.

My thoughts drifted to my son, Nick. Nearly four months had passed since he got into that terrible car accident. And every day since, the details of that August night played over and over in my mind.

Its not often that a man can pinpoint the moment when life as he knew it began to unravel. For me, it was just after seven thirty on the night of August 26, 2007.

After a long day out on the boat, Id grabbed a quick shower and hopped in my black Mercedes to head to dinner. Nick and his three buddies had gone just ahead of me to grab a table at Arigato, this Japanese steak house a few miles away. I assumed theyd all gone together in my yellow pickup.

I was wrong.

The fast-moving thunderheads that passed through that afternoon left the roads soaking wet. I remember my tires splashing through puddles as I left the big house on Willadel Drive. Just as I left, Nicks friend Danny drove up in my silver Viper with his pal Barry in the passenger seat. Their windows were down, and they looked a little panicky as they pulled up beside me.

Nick got in an accident! they said.

Great, I thought. This is all I need, thinking that it was just a fender bender.

Where? I asked.

They told me on Court Street near Missouri Boulevardnot much more than a mile from where we were.

For some reason it didnt occur to me that it might be a life-threatening situation. With all the stoplights on that road, I thought they meant that Nick had rear-ended someone, or maybe someone rear-ended Nick. I was a little confused as to why Danny was driving my Viper, but I still thought Nick was in my yellow truck.

So off we went. I turned east and headed down Court Street with the sun getting ready to set behind me. All the lights were green, so I was cruising along when all of a sudden I saw flashing red-and-blues up ahead.

What the hell?

I couldnt have left the house more than three or four minutes after Nick. But as I looked toward the intersection of Court and Missouri there were police cars in the middle of the road blocking traffic in both directions.

Thats when I saw it: a yellow vehicle smashed up into a palm tree in the center divider.

Oh my God. Nick!

I panicked. I needed to get closer. Traffic was stopped, so I turned into the oncoming lanes and raced down Court Street the wrong way.

As I hit Missouri I just stared at this mangled yellow wreck on the tree, thinking, Holy shit. It didnt look like my truck at all. I was confused for a moment. I had this weird little flash of relief. Danny and Barry got it wrong. Thats not my truck. Phew! Nicks okay.

Then all of a sudden it hit me. Oh my God. Thats my yellow Supra!

My stomach clenched up in a knot. I pulled the Mercedes up on the curb, got out, and started running toward the car. Nick? Nick!? A cop tried to hold me back, but there was no way. Thats my son! I yelled as I pushed past him.