A pro wrestler's guide to confidence

Picture it:

a big, sweaty, tatooed-man
in a cowboy hat and chaps,

and send him in the ring

as the arena,

full of fans cheer him on.

Their hero.

Cowboy Gator McGraw.

Gator bounces off the ropes

and is quickly body-slammed to the mat.

His wild opponent leaps into the air,

crashing down onto Gator's rib cage.

Gator struggles to breathe,

wondering, "Is this really what
my father wanted for me?"

That wild man in the chaps ...

was me.

(Applause)

And the answer to the question,

surprisingly is yes.

(Laughter)

I grew up watching professional
wrestling with my dad.

And like him, I loved everything about it:

the showmanship,

the athletic skill,

the drama.

I'd be this little boy,

bouncing all over our living room,

pretending to be my favorite
wrestlers from TV.

My dad actually reminded me
a little bit of Hulk Hogan,

but I was Hulk Hogan
and he was Andre the Giant.

I'd get all serious on him,

and say things like, "Dad,

someday I am going to be
world heavyweight champion."

And we would usually smile

and very calmly say, "OK,

then I guess I can count on you
to be my retirement fund."

(Laughter)

When I was 16,

a small wrestling show came to my
little town in Minnesota,

and I couldn't believe it.

Nothing like that had ever
come to my town before.

So of course I got to the arena
early in the morning the day of the show,

waiting out in the parking lot

to see if I could spot some wrestlers
pulling up in their cars.

It wasn't as creepy as it sounds.

But I could definitely tell
who the wrestlers were

just the way the walked.

They were tall and confident
and intimidating

with their tank tops,

and [zoobas] and fanny packs.

(Laughter)

Why wouldn't I want to be them?

(Laughter)

All I could think about was,

who are these people,

and what are they like?

How did they become wrestlers?

So before the show started,

I walking into this tiny area --

more like a gymnasium --

and I asked them if I could help
set up the wrestling ring.

"Sure, kid. No problem."

And then I pleaded with them
to show me some wrestling moves.

"Sure, kid. No problem."

Man, they would just punch and kick me --

hard.

But I never complained.

They would come to my town for one night

every couple of months that year,

and poof --

next day they were gone.

By the next year,

they finally told me about an actual
wrestling training camp

that one of the wrestlers was running,

and I begged my parents to sign me up.

Next thing I knew,

I was a high school senior by day

and wrestling in front of live
audiences by night.

I had this giant poster of an alligator
hanging on my bedroom wall.

So I needed to come up with a wrestling
name at the last minute,

and Jesse "The Body" Ventura
was already taken --

(Laughter)

I went with gator.

I also wrestled in a t-shirt
and camofluage pants

because that's what I had in my closet.

I hadn't quite figured out how
to develop my own persona yet,

but I was learning --

it was sort of like an apprenticeship.

But I was a wrestler.

And my dad would come to all my matches

wearing a t-shirt that said,
"Papa Gator" across the front.

(Laughter)

And he bragged to his friends

about how his son was going to pay
for his retirement someday.

(Laughter)

And I would've.

Not long after I started wrestling,

my dad unexpectedly passed away.

And as you can imagine,

especially to a teenage boy --

it destroyed me.

If you've ever lost someone,

you know what a difficult
time that can be.

Your mind --

it's not working right.

The whole thing is just so surreal.

I wanted to feel normal again
even if it was for just a second,

so I went back to wrestling
almost immediately.

Wrestling belonged to me
and my dad, you know?

So there I was.

Sitting in a locker room,

getting ready for a match within days
of my dad passing away.

He was gone.

And sitting there alone --

I felt like I was hiding.

But it also felt
like I needed to be there.

One of the wrestlers who'd been
on the scene a long time

knew what I was going through,

and he came over to see
how I was holding up.

I couldn't get the words out.

I just said, "I don't know
what I'm doing."

And we just sat there in silence --

just silence.

Before he got up to get ready
for his own match,

he gave me this piece of advice

that would change the entire
direction of my life.

He told me the best wrestlers
are just themselves, but turned up.

He said successful wrestlers
find the traits within themselves

or the strongest [...]

and make those the focus of who
they become in the ring.

So there I sat