The Undertaker: Long Term Story Telling in Wrestling

The Undertaker: Long Term Story Telling in Wrestling

April 2nd, 2017. Camping World Stadium, Orlando, Florida. The closing moments of WrestleMania XXXIII. A man lies motionless in the center of a ring, and surrounding him is a sea of people. They’re shocked. They’re angry. But most of all, they’re just… heartbroken. Eventually the man struggles to sit up, and facing the crowd with tears in his eyes,
he climbs to his feet, before leaving his jacket, gloves, and hat in the ring. And moving with slow, heavy strides, he makes his way
back up the entrance ramp, as 75,000 people chant in unison three words: “Thank you, Taker”. For fans of pro-wrestling, this moment was devastating. It was the end of a story we had been experiencing
most of our lives, and one that had started when many of us
were still children. But if you’re not a fan, this scene likely doesn’t mean
a whole lot to you. Maybe you’ve heard mention of The Undertaker, perhaps a friend has vented to you over The Streak, but the specifics of why someone could become
emotionally invested in such an… …odd form of storytelling still evades you. Well friend, you’re in luck, because as you may
have been able to tell from my previous video, I have this borderline unhealthy obsession
with convincing non-wrestling fans that wrestling is not only a legitimate form
of storytelling, but also one capable of delivering narratives
distinct from any other medium. And granted, this video is probably a bad idea,
considering it took me a month to make, people think I’m insane whenever I bring up
this subject, and WWE tend to pursue their copyright claims with all
the vigor of Brock Lesnar caving Randy Orton’s head in. But hell, we didn’t get to where we are by
making decisions that made sense. So to start, I want to briefly talk about time, or more specifically, the unusual nature
of time in wrestling. See, wrestling is the only form of ongoing fictional
narrative that takes place consistently in real time. In any other form of media, it’s the author, director,
writer, or editor who dictates the flow of time, but because wrestling is still operating under
the illusion that it is a competitive sport, the facade of reality means that it can only
be portrayed in real time. So if we watch Kofi Kingston on WWE Smackdown
one week, and then return the following week for the next, just as seven days have pased for us, seven days will also have passed for the
fictional persona Kofi Kingston, making him a fictional character that is aging
and growing in real time, meaning that wrestling is a fictional ongoing universe
taking place directly in our reality, in our timeline. I know that might not sound like a big deal
in the short term, but over time, it can be a powerful tool in storytelling. And I want you to keep that in mind, because
the purpose of this video is twofold. One, to explore the idea of the professional wrestling
persona, and how it develops a relationship with the audience, and two, how the passage of time affects that persona,
as well as that relationship. And so to do that, what say we take a trip right back
to the WWF of 1991? The early 90s were a fascinating time
for professional wrestling. The flamboyant powerhouses of the late 80s
were beginning to lose their luster and move on to greener pastures, and so the creative minds of the WWF were desperate
to recapture audience attention any way they could, and this is what led to the era of the gimmick. If you’re not familiar with the term, a “gimmick”
is a wrestler’s fictional persona. A wrestler’s gimmick is what makes them distinct
from every wrestler on the roster. It’s the character they embody, and that embodiment
defines everything, from their wrestling style and moveset in the ring, to even their entrance music and cadence of speech. Gimmicks are so important that the right one
can make or break a wrestler. For example, what you’re seeing here is the current
New Japan star Tetsuya Naito being rejected by fans in the most devastating
way possible: with silent indifference. This was the reaction to his “Stardust Genius” gimmick,
basically that he was a good boy who liked wrestling. The gimmick lacked any real teeth, and so
was rejected outright by the audience. And so Naito, after a stay in Mexico, adopted
his new “Tranquilo” gimmick, in which he rejected the fans the same way
they had rejected him. treating everything in New Japan, from the audience,
to his opponents, to even the title belts with a languid disdain, only for then his popularity to explode, as a Japanese audience empathized with his disdain
for authority and his position as an outsider, And so they flocked to become one of his
“Los Ungobernales” – The Ungovernable, leading him to have the insane star power
he does today. American gimmicks tend to be a little less subtle
than those of Japan, and especially in the early 90s. At this point, the popularization of mixed martial arts
was still many years away, and so an audience at large had no real idea
what an actual full-contact fight looked like, nor the kinds of people who participate in them, which allowed wrestling promoters to try out
anything and everything. Any gimmick with a remote chance of getting over
was put on television, from professional gimmicks such as an evil repo man, the tax-collecting wrestler, IRS, to the infamous dentist, Dr. Isaac Yankem. This man is now the mayor of Knox Country,
Tennessee. What is reality? Gimmicks would even heavily, uh… “borrow”
from pop culture, such as Robert De Niro’s performance as the
psychotic Max Cady from Cape Fear being reimagined as evil wrestler Waylon Mercy. Just let that one sink in. My favorite gimmicks of this era, however, for their sheer
ludicrousness, was the supernatural gimmicks Mantaur. Oz. This guy, who was bafflingly named “The Yeti”. This was a dumb, glorious period for pro wrestling,
and these gimmicks were frequently disastrous, with many of these characters appearing
in just a few matches, before plummeting into the annals of
wrestling obscurity. But for all that fell, there was one that didn’t. There was one that rose beyond anything
anyone could have imagined. It’s bizarre watching The Undertaker’s first entrance now. There’s a genuine look of bewilderment to the audience as this 6-foot-10, 300-pound man walks solemnly
to the ring as morose funeral organs drone in the background. This was Mark Calaway, a Texas native who had previously wrestled under
the personas of Texas Red and Mean Mark Callous. And while he’d found modest success with each,
this was different. The Undertaker was different. There was something so eerily convincing
about the dead giant; something in his movements that whispered maybe,
just maybe, this was a creature beyond human. That was the gimmick of The Undertaker, and it was that gimmick that drew inspiration
from an unlikely place, in the form of 1978’s horror film Halloween, and the character of Michael Myers. What made Michael Myers so terrifying as a serial killer
was he was human, but also something beyond. He may have looked like a person, but he was also
an unstoppable force of violence, completely immune to pain and single-minded
in his desire to take human life. And it’s those qualities that Bruce Prichard and fellow
WWE creatives wanted to imbue in The Undertaker, and that’s exactly what his matches communicated. Any maneuver in professional wrestling requires
both parties to cooperate; both the person performing the offensive maneuver
to actually do it, and the person taking the move to convey
that it actually hurt, and that conveyance is known as “selling”, and selling that a move was effective was just as vital
as the actual move itself. And here was the difference between the Undertaker
and every other performer on the roster. The Undertaker didn’t sell. There was no visual indication that his opponent’s
moves were having any kind of real effect on him, and it made the character feel eerily indestructible, never more palpable in the moments of his eerie sit-up,
a move directly inspired by Michael Myers, in which the Undertaker would be on the receiving end
of a devastating piece of offense, only to rise back to life. The sit-up was a trademark of any Undertaker match; the moment his opponent’s momentum was broken, and they’d remember they were in the ring
with the Deadman. If that sounds silly, it kind of was. On the surface, there’s so many things about
The Undertaker that were campy and overly theatrical. This was, after all, an undead wizard, who, for whatever reason, had decided to join
a professional wrestling organization. But it was also so much fun. Seeing other wrestlers interact with The Undertaker
was the bizarre highlight of any show. The nature of the character meant that WWF
could be more creative and original with the storylines featuring him. And those stories only grew more strange
and entertaining with the addition of the ghoulish Paul Bearer,
The Undertaker’s manager, who would carry to the ring a magical urn, which reportedly was the key to The Undertaker’s
supernatural power. And yes, that is ridiculous, but just listen to how much fun the two would have
in their promos: Bearer – Jaaake the Snaaake Roooberts! Bearer – The clock on my embalming room wall
is ticking dooown! Bearer – Only three weeks awaaay to Wrestlemania! Taker – Now the running’s over. Taker – Now… Three weeks. Taker – You meet the Reaper at WrestleMania. [funeral bell] If this is all starting to sound a little close to parody,
well, it could have been. But the thing that kills me about The Undertaker
is that it never actually felt that way. The Undertaker’s gimmick should have been a joke. It should have been a disaster, one that disappeared
with all the other novelty gimmicks of the 90s. But it never did. And the reason for that was Mark Calaway himself. For a gimmick to really work, it’s vital for the wrestler to
embody their fictional persona in everything they do. And this was the life that Calaway brought
to the Deadman, and what separated him from every other
wrestler at the time. Here was the Undertaker, a character who spoke
slowly and quietly, whose every move felt careful and considered. He was a 300-pound man who could fly through the air,
balance on the top of ropes, and slow matches down to a crawl, and yet you couldn’t look away. There was a brutal grace to how Mark Calaway
embodied The Undertaker, and it let you believe he was real. There’s an interview with the wrestler Gregory Helms
I really like where he talks about how Calaway once discussed how a wrestler should always wear
his title belt around his waist and make it a part of him, but that The Undertaker only ever carried titles
in his hand, because The Undertaker’s character was
unconcerned with earthly things. And it’s such a tiny detail, but it shows you the level
of thought Calaway was putting into his character, which in turn made that character real for the audience. And so fans believed in The Undertaker, and those reactions are what propelled the character
to the very peak of the WWF, and on his way, devouring legends like
Jimmy “Superfly” Snuka and Jake “The Snake” Roberts, even scoring a rare pinfall win over Hulk Hogan. And so, The Undertaker’s legacy began. In the years that followed, The Undertaker would be part of some of the most
memorable and shocking matches in history, none more so than his brutal encounter with Mankind
at 1998’s King of the Ring; the image of Foley plummeting off the roof of the cell
etched into wrestling history forever. Not all Undertaker storylines were good,
or even made sense, but what kept the Deadman relevant was his ability
to constantly reinvent himself. Depending on what part of the Deadman’s career
you focus on, he could either be a mournful force of karmic justice striking down the evil that plagued the world
of professional wrestling, or a satanic leader of a cult who, I shit you not,
would sacrifice other wrestlers, making them part of his Ministry of Darkness. He even spent three years riding a motorcycle
to the ring, changing his entrance music to Limp Bizkit’s “Rollin'”, and somehow he got that over with fans, too. His ability to adapt and reinvent himself was part of why The Undertaker enjoyed
so much longevity with the WWF, but there was another reason, too. Everything we’ve talked about up until now was about
maintaining the illusion of The Undertaker. But behind that illusion, there was the actual person;
Mark Calaway. and the strange thing about Calaway is that
despite having 27+ years in the industry, It’s rare to find anyone in the world of wrestling
who has a negative thing to say about him. And if you’re unfamiliar with the backstage controversy
and politicking of the business, that is exceptionally rare. He’s known as someone who would frequently
put the business ahead of himself, often giving advice to younger wrestlers, and using his own position within the company
to try and raise them up. And if you look at Calaway’s championship runs,
this tracks. His title runs were never very long, often losing championship matches to younger talent
in an effort to raise their profile with the audience, something many of his contemporaries refused to do. Or, as former WWE wrestler Ken Anderson put it: This section is not meant as an endorsement
of Mark Calaway the human being. I don’t know anything about the man personally,
and honestly, I don’t really care. But what I do know is that the world of wrestling
can be a cruel and ugly place, one that brings out the very worst in people, the history of which is littered with men and women
consumed by their own demons. And I think it’s awesome that The Undertaker
was never like that. That he chose to help those around him
rather than tearing them down. And to me, that’s just as much a part of his legacy
as anything else. And so you had The Undertaker. A character loved by fans, and a man respected
by his peers. But over the years, something unusual
started to happen. Different stars would come and go,
but The Undertaker never did. He could disappear for months at a time, but he’d
always come back, year after year, and as the decades went by, he started to feel like
this ethereal, eternal part of wrestling. Even in the years I kind of fell off wrestling, I’d always tune back into WrestleMania just to see
what was happening with the Deadman. And there was a kind of comfort to that. No matter what else was going on in your life,
whatever changes you were experiencing, The Undertaker was always there. I can remember watching Undertaker matches
when I was learning to read, when I graduated college, and even when I started making YouTube videos. And the thing was, just as I was growing
and getting older, so was he. He was a fictional persona, but he was also
a real person. I’ve sat in arenas and watched The Undertaker. I’ve shared a physical space with this fictional character, which in some small way makes me feel like
a tiny part of his story. And after decades, it felt like that was a story
that would never end. And it was that feeling that led to “The Streak”. The Streak began in 1991 at WrestleMania VII, as The Undertaker scored a decisive victory
over Jimmy Snuka. WrestleMania is the biggest night of the year
in wrestling. Known as the Showcase of the Immortals, it’s where
every major storyline of the year concludes, and as the years rolled by, a pattern started to emerge. The Undertaker had never lost at WrestleMania. In fact, come WrestleMania XXI, 14 years later,
he’d gone 13-0, making the streak a testament to the enduring
long-term relationship he’d built with the fans, but also something else. It was a prize to be claimed; more valuable than any title. The one who could finally end the streak
would himself become a legend. And so each year, a new challenger stepped forward, and each year, after a brutal struggle, they’d be sent hurtling back into the abyss, in the process making for some of the
greatest matches in wrestling history, such as his WrestleMania XXV showdown
with Shawn Michaels, seen by many as the best match WWE has ever done. But personally the match for me that really
exemplifies The Streak is his brutal showdown with Triple H
at WrestleMania XVIII. This was the third time that Triple H had attempted
to break The Undertaker’s streak, and at this point, both men were in the twilight
of their professional wrestling career. Both had achieved every accolade imaginable,
and so all that was left was this war for legacy; Triple H obsessed with being the one to finally
shatter the streak and cement himself as the greatest of all time, and The Undertaker fighting to keep that legacy alive. And what unfolded was nothing less than a war; the two men destroying each other in a violent,
emotional encounter that is honestly a little difficult to watch. You can see the welts and scars the match has left
on both performers, both of whom gave everything they had to tell
the best story their bodies would allow, concluding in this beautiful moment when Triple H
realizes he cannot and never will beat The Undertaker, and in one final moment of defiance, like everyone
that came before him, is sent plummeting back into oblivion; The Undertaker going 20 – 0 at WrestleMania. After the match, the two men leave arm-in-arm. The war for their legacy is over. There is no animosity left between them. I really hope I don’t sound like a crazy person to the non-wrestling fans who have made it this far
into the video, but I think this was a really powerful story being told. One of the most terrifying things about achieving
success in a public space is not knowing when your time will come, not knowing when you’ll lose relevance and cease
being what you are. And that to me is the story of The Streak. Every year The Undertaker is getting older, while his opponents were only getting younger
and more ferocious, and every year you’d watch this legend cling to
the legacy that made him what he was. And it could be so close, for a moment you’d think
it was over. But it never was. The Undertaker was still immortal. He was still the Deadman. And nothing could ever break that. Enter Brock Lesnar. Brock Lesnar made his 2012 return to WWE as
one of the most legitimate fighters on the planet, having defeated Randy Couture for the real-life
UFC Heavyweight Championship, and in the years that would follow, he’d prove
a devastating, terrifying competitor, leaving opponents in macabic pools of blood, even destroying John Cena in one of the most
brutal, one-sided title matches in history. But now The Beast Incarnate had set his eyes
on a different prize. He’d set his eyes on The Streak. But surely it wouldn’t matter. The Streak could never be broken. …Right? …Right. The Undertaker gives the match everything he has. Every possible strategy, every angle, every move. Nothing works. Until finally… Announcer – Brock Lesnar into the cover! Announcer – Has the leg! The Streak… [bell rings] Announcer – …is over. It’s over. The Streak lies in ruin. The Undertaker has lost. I want you to watch this moment again, but this time,
keep your eyes on the reaction of the fans, and look at the expressions on their faces. This isn’t surprise at an unexpected outcome. This is something more. This is heartbreak, and accepting something
no one wanted to accept. That this was the beginning of the end
for The Undertaker. Three years later. April 2nd, 2017. Camping World Stadium, Orlando, Florida. WrestleMania XXXIII. The Undertaker faces Roman Reigns, the divisive
rising star of WWE, and new face of the company. The two battle back-and-forth as the Undertaker,
now over 50 years old, struggles to keep up with his younger, more dominant
opponent. And then… something happens. The Undertaker attempts his trademark sit-up. But as he does, decades of matches and pain set in, and he collapses to the mat, exhausted. It’s hard to convey the gravity of this moment. This is a move The Undertaker had performed
hundreds of times over the course of his career; a trademark reminder that he was the Deadman;
that he was something beyond human. And what killed me about this moment was it was the first time he had ever felt human. And in that instance, I knew. This was it. This was the last match of the Undertaker. The Undertaker would return for guest spots
in the years that followed, but for me, this was the moment that was the end
of a story I had been experiencing my entire life. And whether that was the story of the fictional persona
The Undertaker, or the actual person, Mark Calaway, it didn’t matter. The two were indistinguishable at this point. Ending a narrative 26 years in the making, One about the creation of a legacy, the struggle to keep that legacy alive, and finally, knowing when your time has come. And that’s a story the experience of which I think
I value more than I could ever possibly convey. If you’re not a fan of wrestling, you’ll never experience
The Undertaker’s story the same way I did: As a constant, ongoing, real-time narrative over decades. It’s already too late for that. But what I want to convey with this video is that
it doesn’t matter, because this is just one story in the world
of professional wrestling, and dozens of others are unfolding right now,
right this minute. The fall of Kazuchika Okada. The rise of Becky Lynch. The ongoing saga of the Golden☆Lovers. It’s stories like these; these real, unreal stories,
that are the reason I love professional wrestling, and the reason I always will. Friends, thank you for watching my video. and particularly, if you do not care about wrestling at all, thank you so much for sticking around to the end
of this one. If you enjoyed this video and want to help me
make more like it, you can support the channel over on Patreon
at And thank you so, so much to the people there
who support me, and make putting a month into a crazy project
like this possible. A special shout out this week to: You can also find me on Twitch at, hosting the Let’s Fight a Boss video game podcast, or on Twitter, @eyepatchwolf. Friends, take care of yourselves,
and i’ll see you next time.

100 Replies to “The Undertaker: Long Term Story Telling in Wrestling”

  1. In wrestling there is one side with all the legends like Cena Hogan HHH Flair Steve Austin The Rock who defined wrestling together. And at the other side there is him. He define wrestling himself.

  2. Taker worked because Mark Calloway was totally committed to that character-every time, all the time. No "winks", no irony at all. Taker, at best, was an unstoppable force who conquered.

  3. Christ you're kicking the feels off me here, i grew up watching him and Hulk Hogan, Saturday Night Main Event, and house shows i can't even remember the name of!!!

  4. Great video ? but losing to Brock was not unbelievable it's Brock a real ? ass kicker so yeah Roman should have never beat him it should have been only Brock he is the one man who could beat him in rl so sorry it hurts but come on.

  5. No one will ever touch this man's greatness. He is considered the king of the locker room with guys like HHH, HBK, etc. still active shows you what he means to the business.

  6. Brock had to end the streak. I was surprised Brock didn't break it during his origina run from 02-04 tbh. Coming back to WWE after UFC you couldn't have him look weak and lose to a 50 year old Taker. UFC is so main stream, so is WWE. Anyone knows who Brock is, imagine him falling to Taker it wouldn't be believable. Especially after they had him completely destroy their super boy Cena.

  7. WOW mate,
    That was a fucking brilliant production you put together.
    Your so talented, I really enjoyed that a lot.
    Thank you.

  8. i love the clip at 19:45…in that first split-second, HHH conveys everything you need to know: "alright, Trips, youre locked in this steel cage, with the entity known as the Dead Man…any last words before being Taken Under?"

    '……….welp, "Suck It!" D-X for life and all that jazz, yeah? just knock me out, fam, make it quick'

  9. Not gonna lie, seeing The Undertaker getting older breaks something in me. Probably reminding me the reality of people growing old, and things gonna have to change one way or another. Still remember watching WWE with my grandad when I was little. He's gone now, and I'm now an adult. Dang it's that same feeling I get watching Joseph Joestar turning into an old guy in Jojo.

  10. I still love that photo of Reigns sitting backstage alone head in his hands post Taker match. He didnt want to be the guy who finished Taker.

  11. I know it's all scripted. I knew it was and will always be pre-determined. But still… even knowing all these, i cried. Because I also knew that deep down a part of me died.

  12. I was there in New Orleans, WrestleMania XXX, and I don’t know why, but walking into the stadium I just knew Brock was pinning The Undertaker. You could feel it in the air that night! So surreal

  13. I never got into wrestling. I never even attempted to, but The Undertaker was always the character that made me want to. It's sad to know he won't wrestle again, but this video made me understand why. Thank you for making it.

  14. I would love to see you do one of these about Bray Wyatt. Hooo boy! Bray has managed to create one of the best examples of long term character building and story telling.

  15. Love him or hate him I think Taker vs Reigns was the match taker wanted to end the streak but Lesnar was a bigger draw. Reigns is a well respected star backstage and a locker room leader he's also a very humble guy just like Taker. If Taker couldn't give the streak to Reigns he still wanted to go out putting the guy over somehow.

  16. I identify with this so much of you were a kid in the 90s, you grew up with the Undertaker, even now as a 27 year old man with a family I still get goosebumps watching him walk down that ramp. Thank you Taker, for your commitment to us fans.

  17. Bro you cant just show the Undertaker doing his suicide dive into the ground without warning. It makes me cringe so fucking hard every time i see it.

  18. I wish you wouldve put more of a spotlight on the Streak Vs Career match.

    The promo package for Streak vs Career is maybe the best promo package ever

    If I only could, make a deal with God….

  19. One of the best things I saw about wrestling.

    Thank you for sharing the emotions that I felt for this character and person I watch and adore since I'm a child!

    Thank you

  20. Most of what I know about WWE comes from Last Week Tonight's piece on the terrible way the WWE organization treats its performers, so this is already making me sad
    edit 1:39 uh scratch that I'm now seriously horrified by all that blood
    edit2 1:51 UM

  21. 10:45 my mother is in the next room and believes i'm doing homework, so i'm silently crying and shaking with laughter
    how was this real???

  22. 15:34 will there ever be a wrestler with the gimmick of being non-binary or trans? that would be kinda cool–they could start taking testosterone/estrogen, and over the course of a bunch of matches try and change their fighting style to suit their new body chemistry

    man imagine a series of matches where The Enby refuses to take off their binder because it makes them dysphoric, but as they keep losing (because you shouldn't bind and do physically strenuous activity since it, you know, inhibits breathing), the audience starts affirming their gender, asking them to take care of themselves, showing that the fans will continue to see them as they want to be seen, no matter their physical appearance!

    that would be hard to pull off, though–you'd need an entire stadium's worth of people who spent their formative years on tumblr, for one thing

    The Enby: the envy of men, women, and everybody else
    i await my check in the mail, wwe

  23. Watching this for my wrestling class, and you've got me crying in the hospital. I didn't quite grow up with wrestling. I didn't start watching until about 2017 ish, but it really is such a complex storyline with complex and evolving characters… But the Phenom will always remain my favourite.

  24. Hey man. Love the narration. Being a big fan of the deadman, I feel the pain of him leaving the ring attire in the middle of the square circle. Well said about his career. Love this video. ?

  25. This was and i think while ever be the best documentary about the undertaker you sad every things about him no one will ever do better than him #Thankyoutaker

  26. wrestling was cool when i was a kid and thought it was real. then it became something i watched cuz it was on tv, usually thursday night smackdown cuz it was free. the stories and formatting i feel were limiting in the kinda stories i grew to be more interested in, hence the shift to books, anime, movies. there's only so many stories you can tell with a ring.

  27. Triple h wanting to break the streak also had to do with proving he was better then Shawn Michaels because if he won he would of done what Shawn couldn’t do

  28. This video actually made me cry, cause I could really feel the love and pain in your voice, and I have only followed Takers career since 05. But REALLY great video?

  29. 22:50 NAAAAH, this wasn't the beginning of the end of the Undertaker, no bitch, this was the beginning of the end of WWE. What a wonderful decision they made, putting the ONLY thing that they had going for themselves to shit. Look where it's gotten them now. Nice ratings, WWE, you sure know what the fuck you're doing with your greatest assets! Fucking morons on that storyline team.


    Voyage 3 (Chillwave – Synthwave – Retrowave Mix)

    SynthR – Starbound (Unreal Uplifting Trance):

    Savlonic – The Roll:

    We Are Magonia – Terror:

    John Carpenter – HALLOWEEN Theme:

    YOUTH 83 – Euphoria:

    Kozoro – Breathe | Chillstep:

    David Maxim Micic -500 Seconds Before Sunset:

    Boucle Infinie – 直線移動 (Official Music Video)

    Danger – 1:30:

    Vexaic – Scarred Heart:

  31. I feel like there are some very important take aways from
    Pro Wrestling as to how to captivate or win over an audience. Different
    personas that speak to the world.

    Have you ever considered doing a video that explores how the
    promotional value of wrestling could translate to other mediums?

  32. Hehe heee brock lesnar was the first ever wrestler i saw on tv , i even hated eddie for beating brock for wwe championship

  33. Man, I just discovered this video (thanks YT), and boy, I have to say that I'm writing this with tears in my eyes as your storytelling, voices and everything is breathtaking.
    I remember seeing Taker loose against Lesnar or Reigns, and just seeing this fill me up with rage against Lesnar, with sadness as I saw him struggle to sit against Reigns, to completely loose it with the "Thank You Taker"

    I want everyone (wrestling fan or not) to see this video because it might be the best one to describe why we are fans, why there are fans, and why there will always be fans.

    I think I will go and spread this video on my twitter, but just before, I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  34. awesome video i have a few thoughts. 1. i can't believe I never connected Michael Myers with Undertaker, it's so obvious and John Carpenter is basically my favourite director. 2. The streak never should have ended, it should have been something old school wrestling fans told their grandchildren about in fact, in my mind taker is still 21-0, serious my brain just redacts every wrestlemania after 29. 3. In my mind there are only 2 people who would have been worthy enough to break the streak and Brock isn't and would never be on that list. 1. is Sting, old school fans have wanted the dream match since the monday night wars, it could have rivaled Taker vs Michaels as the best match and that would cap off sting's short lived WWE run far better than how his match with HHH ended. 2. is HHH, you could have had the both of them, in the last days of their careers decide to settle it once and for all and after all the struggles The King of Kings takes his place at the pinnacle of WWE, that's it both retire done, no more. they handled it SO poorly. great video btw.

  35. I tried really hard to think of something to praise you for this experience but i couldn't. I'll just say Thank You.

  36. That HHH vs Taker match is AMAZINGLY BETTER….if you watch it somehow with no commentary. The raw sounds and grit without the distractions of chatter boxes is much better.

  37. I can so relate to this. I was a wrestling fan as a kid and became an on and off viewer when I grew up, but I would always tune in to Wrestlemania every year to find what's going on with the Undertaker. It did feel like wrestling will never be the same when he retired, he made the wrestling like this static part of my life that never changed all these years.

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