A pro wrestler's guide to confidence

Picture it: a big, sweaty, tattooed man

in a cowboy hat and chaps,

that's in the ring

as the arena full of fans cheer him on.

Their hero:

Cowboy Gator Magraw.

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?"

(Laughter)

That wild man in the chaps ...

was me.

(Laughter)

(Applause)

(Audience cheers)

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 he 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.

I couldn't believe it.

Nothing like that had ever
come to my town before.

So 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 they walked.

They were tall and confident
and intimidating,

with their tank tops
and Zubaz and fanny packs.

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 walked into this tiny arena --

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 then -- 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 when 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 camouflage 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'd brag 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 as 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 --

it 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 then 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

they're the strongest at

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

So there I sat --

a scared teenager
who didn't know who he was

or why he was even wrestling anymore.

I looked around the locker room
at some of the other wrestlers,

and I thought,

"I look so different.
How can I ever be like them?"

And then it hit me.

That's the moment I realized
I didn't have to be like them.

What I did have to do was find out:
What did it mean to be me?

What made me unique,

and how could I use it to my advantage?

I knew I wasn't a chiseled athlete
like some of these guys,

but I really didn't care.

So the first thing I thought was,

"How can I amplify something as simple
as: comfortable with my own body?"

I didn't know.

And then I thought:

Speedo.

(Laughter)

(Applause)

Or "trunks,"

as we call them in wrestling.

Yeah, "trunks."

I could be this big guy

who was comfortable
wearing these little trunks

in front of a bunch of strangers.

So I ditched the t-shirt
and camouflage pants,

and Gator's new wardrobe was born.

(Laughter)

I was also pretty good
at drawing cartoons,

so I wondered if I could turn that up.

I could design my own wrestling costumes,

so each pair of trunks would have
its own unique design and color,

all of them completely different --

and extremely comfortable, by the way.

(Laughter)

And I was also the funny kid in school,

believe it or not.

So I thought maybe I could turn that up.

Maybe I could go from the boy
who made his buddies laugh

to the man who could rally
hundreds or thousands.

So I committed to the idea

that my character wasn't going to be
as scary as some of the others.

I'd be hilarious from the moment
I walked into the arena.

With every wrestling match, I dug deeper.

I found out that I could laugh at myself.

So this guy would dance
and sing his entrance music

all the way to the ring.

That was dancing, by the way.

(Laughter)

I found out that I was an OK wrestler,

but I was an even better entertainer.

And turning myself up made me
unforgettable to the fans.

I was trying to find
those things about me --

the simple things that were special,

and then ask, "How can I turn them up?"

Now, I knew I wanted my character
to be a man's man like my dad was.

I thought, "What's more
of a man's man than a cowboy?"

And that's when Gator became
"Cowboy Gator."

Yeah, I needed a last name.

I thought about it until my head hurt.
I couldn't come up with anything.

I'm sitting there watching TV one night,
flipping through the channels,

and this commercial comes on

about a country singer who had just won
an Entertainer of the Year award.

Tim McGraw.

He's a cool cowboy with a great last name.

And I liked his music.

It was just all part of my process.

But I just kept turning myself up

until I became Cowboy Gator McGraw!

(Laughter)

(Applause)

And I knew that if I kept
turning myself up

and pushing myself harder,

the opportunities would come.

And then it finally happened.

In the middle of the night,

I got a phone call.

It was the call I wish
my dad was around to hear.

The WWE,

the biggest wrestling
organization in the world,

wanted me to come and be a part
of Monday Night RAW.

Yes -- all of my hard work and miles
on the road were finally paying off.

I got to walk down the WWE RAW
entrance ramp on live television --

(Laughter)

dressed up as a fake security guard --

(Laughter)

to escort another wrestler to the ring.

(Laughter)

Sure, I was disappointed
I didn't get to wrestle,

but very few wrestlers get
any kind of call from the WWE.

Maybe one in a few hundred.

And becoming Cowboy Gator Magraw
is what got me there.

So instead of walking away that day,

I decided to turn myself up again

and become the best
security guard I could.

In fact, I did it so well,

I was the only guard to get
a close-up on TV that night.

That's a big deal, you know?

(Laughter)

And I got to sit backstage that entire day

with some of the most famous
pro wrestlers in the world,

some of which were heroes
of mine as a kid.

And I got to listen to them
and learn from them,

and for that day,

I was accepted as one of them.

Maybe my experience
with the WWE wasn't ideal.

I mean, I didn't get to wrestle.

But it made me work harder,

turning myself up louder year after year.

I was becoming the biggest
version of myself in the ring,

and other people took notice.

Before I knew it,

I'd gone from wrestling
maybe once a month in Minnesota

to as often as four times a week
all over the United States

on the independent wrestling circuit.

I was literally living my dream.

While wrestling over the next few years,

I suffered a pretty bad shoulder injury

right around the same time
my wife and I found out

that we were expecting our first child.

I know what you're thinking,

but believe me when I say
those two events are completely unrelated.

(Laughter)

But I needed shoulder surgery,

and I wanted to be home with my family.

It was my turn to be a dad.

So on July 27, 2007,

I wrestled my final match,

and walked away
from professional wrestling

to pursue the next chapter of my life.

And as time passed,

the strangest thing started to happen.

I found out that once someone
has been turned up,

it's pretty hard to turn them down.

I left the ring but Gator stayed with me,

and I use the turned-up version
of myself every day.

My beautiful wife has been with me
through this entire journey.

And by the way --
she did not like pro wrestling.

(Laughter)

Like, at all.

But she was always my biggest fan.

She still is.

She knows there's always going to be
some part of Gator Magraw in here,

and she wants our daughter and twin sons
to discover themselves

the way that I did,

but probably with fewer body slams
and steel chair shots to the head.

I mean, do you know how many times
she's had to remind me

not to clothesline the referees
at my kid's soccer games?

(Laughter)

I mean, it was just the one time.

And my daughter was clearly fouled.

(Laughter)

As a parent now, I've begun to realize
that my dad wanted something

much more valuable than a retirement fund.

Like most parents,

he just wanted his kids
to reach their fullest potential.

I'm trying to teach my children

that turning yourself up is just not some
perfect idea of how to be great,

it's a away of living --

constantly looking
for what makes you different

and how you can amplify it
for the world to see.

And by the way, my kids
don't like wrestling, either.

(Laughter)

But that's OK with me,

because they each have their own
unique talents that can be turned up

just like the rest of us.

My one son -- he's a whiz at electronics.

So maybe helping him turn up
makes him become the next Steve Jobs.

My other son and my daughter --
they're great at art,

so maybe helping them turn up their gifts

helps them become the next Pablo Picasso.

You never know what
you have the ability to do

until you dig.

And don't be afraid
to put yourself out there.

I mean, look around.

They say that if you get nervous
in front of an audience,

just imagine them in their underwear.

But then I think, "Hey,
I've wrestled in less."

(Laughter)

(Applause)

Look, the wrestling circus doesn't need
to come to your town

before you get an invitation
to be the real you --

the bigger, more stunning
version of yourself.

It doesn't even necessarily
come from our parents.

Turning yourself up means looking inward
toward our true selves

and harnessing the voice that says,

"Maybe, just maybe,

I am more than I thought I was."

Thank you.

(Applause)