Donald Trump speaks at a campaign event in Butler, Pennsylvania, on July 13, 2024. AP

My favourite Donald Trump story goes like this: in 2007 WWE ran a storyline where company chairman Vince McMahon was killed in a limo explosion. The final shot of the episode was him getting into the car, which then blew up, and the broadcast faded to black. Trump allegedly called the company in a panic to ask if Vince was okay, because he thought the explosion was real. That man is a candidate for president. He’s already been president. As funny and weird as that story is, I always had trouble believing it. Trump would never be tricked by a wrestling storyline. After all, his entire life has been one big pro wrestling storyline. He’s a WWE Hall of Famer. He was one half of the “battle of the billionaires” at WrestleMania 23. And now, in a moment almost too stupidly perfect to be true, he’s been endorsed for president at the Republican National Convention by Hulk Hogan, brother.

In case you missed it, Hogan took to the stage at RNC to give a ringing endorsement for Diamond Don. Hogan came on stage to his signature theme song “Real American” — they accept nothing less at the RNC, after all — and ended the speech by tearing his shirt off, only to reveal a second Trump/Vance 2024 shirt underneath. “Let Trump-o-mania run wild, brother!”, screamed the six-time WWE champion, before leading the crowd in a chant of “USA! USA!” It was a spectacle as uplifting as it was dignified, and served as a perfect convergence of both men’s lives and careers.

They’re both former reality TV stars — Trump with The Apprentice, Hulk with Hogan Knows Best. They both rose to prominence in the eighties, making a name for themselves in iconic New York venues: Trump Tower and Madison Square Garden, respectively. They’re both also extremely good friends with former WWE company chairman Vince McMahon — a similarly problematic character who probably deserves his own article.

Not to mention the fact that they’re both known for, well, let’s say “stretching the truth”. Of course you probably know that Trump likes to exaggerate, and even make things up wholesale, to serve whatever narrative he’s trying to push that day. But did you know that Hulk Hogan was asked to play bass for Metallica? No? Well neither did James Hetfield, the band’s lead guitarist, who when told that Hogan had been going around making the claim responded “Huh? Definitely not”. Or how about the fact that Hogan claims Elvis was a huge fan of his, despite the King dying in 1977 — well before Hogan became famous. Or there’s my personal favourite: that due to the time difference between the US and Japan, Hogan — who frequently flew between the two for work — once ended up wrestling 400 days in a single year. Yeah. Take a moment to really drink that one in.

It’s a perfect fit. Not just Hogan and Trump, but pro wrestling and politics. In the US, there isn’t really much difference between the two. You know how wrestlers will keep playing their part even when the cameras aren’t rolling, to help maintain the illusion? Like they know it isn’t real, and we know it isn’t real, but we all pretend that it is to help sell the lie? There’s a word for that. In wrestling, it’s called “kayfabe”. In politics, it’s called a “policy position”. Hogan wasn’t even the only wrestler at the convention. Remember Kane? The Undertaker’s brother? The giant, shambling Jason Voorhees knock-off who wore a red leotard and never spoke? Well his real name is Glenn Jacobs, and he’s currently the Republican mayor of Knox County, Tennessee. Fun fact: despite wearing a mask for much of his career, he came out as staunchly against face coverings during the pandemic — and despite his character being mute, he never shuts up about it on Twitter.

Ryan Coogan, The Independent