There are certain things in life that you think about one day happening, but push it to the back of your mind because it’s either too painful or you just hope you’re not around to see it. This past weekend, the 70,000+ in Camping World Stadium in Orlando witnessed something that we’ve been talking about for years, but never knew when it would actually happen. That is, of course, the retirement of the absolute greatest in-ring performer in the history of professional wrestling and one of the most decorated athletes in sports, period; Mark Calloway aka The Phenom, The Deadman, the greatest pure striker in the history of the game….The Undertaker.
In November 2006, I turned on an episode of Smackdown and saw The Undertaker slowly, methodically walking down to the ring in an arena with the lights turned off. He was wearing his usual attire….long black trenchcoat, black hat and big black boots, striking gloves, and there was fire spitting up from the stage behind him. His face was stoic, and after making his way up the steel ring steps, he slowly lifted his arms and the lights in the arena suddenly came back on. He stepped inside the ring and removed his coat, then made his way to the middle, and at the climax of his entrance music, removed the hat from his head and rolled his eyes into the back of his head while seemingly growling at his opponent. At just 10 years old, I was absolutely frozen in awe. I was floored by this massive man and the presence he omitted through the TV screen from wherever the hell he was. It was spellbinding. It was like nothing I had ever seen before or would see again. It was the beginning of my love of professional wrestling, and it all began with The Undertaker.
Since then, I have watched as The Undertaker had what was arguably the best run of his career from early 2007 to late 2008, YEARS after he needed to put in that much effort, watched him take a backseat to titles in 2009-10 but highlighted by his classic bouts with Shawn Michaels at WrestleMania 25 and 26 (the former of which I got to attend live) which were easily Match Of The Year, plagued by nagging injuries in 2011 but returning early and still sacrificing his body at WrestleMania 27, returning to form at WrestleMania 28, coasting through WrestleMania 29 against an opponent who did not deserve to work with him, falter and die in 2014 at WrestleMania 30, rise from the dead at WrestleMania 31 and give us just a little hope, struggle to work through what should have been an easy half hour at WrestleMania 32, then sadly show the mortal man behind the character in the last year, highlighted by his performance in the 2017 Royal Rumble where it was obvious that Father Time had caught up to the legend. Throughout all of that, he remained the consummate professional. He came back months too early, put his professional life ahead of his personal life by going under the knife so many times and did everything he could to still be the most reliable, loyal worker the WWE has ever seen….but what’s amazing is that through all his struggles, there was not one person in the professional wrestling business who could touch him. No one could measure up. No one was as much of an attraction as he was, no matter what some fans may tell you. He was the last outlaw.
While my journey with the WWE began in 2006, Mark “The Undertaker” Calloway’s began much earlier then that. He began wrestling in 1984, before making his WWE(F) debut at Survivor Series in 1990. In those 27 years, he did everything there is to do in the business, and so much more. If you want a history lesson, go do some research. But still, 27 years later and he was still giving more of himself in one night then most wrestlers did in their entire careers.
Undertaker is from an era that believed in “going out on your back”, which basically means that when you retire, you do so after a loss. Your shoulders get pinned to the mat for the 1-2-3 and you stare up at the bright lights above you, while the music of the winner, and the vocal reaction of the live crowd, echoes around you. For most guys, this is proper. It’s tradition. But sometimes breaking tradition is hard. When Undertaker’s WrestleMania streak surpassed the 10-0 mark, it really began to be viewed as a thing that the company wanted to latch on to. A few years later, and Taker was winning titles at Mania and the streak would continue. By WrestleMania 23, he was 43 years old and had just won his first title at a Mania in 10 years. At that point, there was no denying that when Taker should go out, it should be at WrestleMania. Sure, WrestleMania had been a big attraction before, but the ever-present Undertaker at the event has always made it feel so much more special. With that said, WWE was backing themselves into a corner with every passing year that the streak would continue. How would the end finally occur? And when? And who could possibly do it? Let’s go back to late 2010-early 2011.
In late 2010, Undertaker was in another program with Kane that started off to be really interesting. Again, if you’re interested, do your research. However, as it went on, it was rumored that Undertaker was injured. So, after three straight PPV losses to Kane, he was written off TV so he could hopefully recover from whatever surgery he may need to be back in time for WrestleMania 27 in Atlanta. In early 2011, Taker returned to TV on Raw and immediately began a program with Triple H. The stage was set. Taker vs Triple H…No Holds Barred….WrestleMania. It sounds great right??? Well, it was great, but it was apparent that he had come back way too fast as the match left him out of in-ring action for a year.
The next year at Mania 28 in Miami, Taker wrestled a brutal Hell In A Cell match against Triple H with Shawn Michaels as the special-guest referee. It was billed the “End Of An Era” match and after the classic that it was, and the hug the three men shared at the top of the ramp after the match, many thought it may be the end.
Nope. One year later, Taker wrestled CM Punk in the match of the night at Mania 29 in New York. Many thought Punk should end the streak that night, so that Taker could leave while giving a the guy who was looked at as “the future” of the business the rub he needed. After seeing Punk beaten down like a small child in his UFC debut over the summer, it was clear WWE made the right decision. Take that how you will.
Then came WrestleMania 30. Brock Lesnar, who had a win-loss record to be desired at that point in his return, needed an opponent. Taker walked out to the ring on Raw to confront him, and that was that. Match made.
The streak was broken that night in New Orleans. I was there for that, and it was painfully obvious a little before the midway point of the match that something was very off. Taker wasn’t calling spots like he usually was, he was barely getting up in the air for basic German suplexes, he wore a vacant expression….it was just off. He had suffered a major concussion after a single-leg takedown on the outside of the ring, and was really in no condition to continue. When the ref hit the 1-2-3 after the 3rd F5 from Lesnar, the crowd at Mercedes-Benz Superdome stood up together simultaneously in complete and utter shock. As emotions rise and fell, Taker was left in the ring alone. He was laying on his back, and I thought that was it. He rose, looked around and slowly walked backstage having suffered the first loss of his Mania career.
That could have been the end, but Calloway did not want the last image of him as an in-ring performer to be the unhealthy, out-of-mind version of himself that stood before us in NOLA. He returned at Mania 31, and worked multiple dates throughout the next few months. He continued his feud with Brock Lesnar, and worked with Kane at Survivor Series against the Wyatt Family at was built up to be the 25th year anniversary show of his debut. His Hell In A Cell match with Lesnar was spectacular, and was a clear indication that he could still go.
Mania 32 was the beginning of the end. He worked an extremely slow Hell In A Cell match with Shane McMahon, aggravating injuries in the process. After the match, he removed his gloves and placed them in the ring, so many wondered if that was a symbol for the end. It would not be the case though, as he would return for the 2017 Royal Rumble. The go-home show for the Rumble ended with a staredown between Taker, Goldberg and Lesnar, Talk about magic.
In the Rumble match itself, Taker appeared mortal. He was moving gingerly, and talks about an injury spread within days of the match, claiming he had badly injured his surgically repaired hip while falling onto the ring apron. It was a simple fall, but for Taker’s body it was just too much. I think that at that point, waiting another year for NOLA would have been pushing it.
Then it was announced that Taker would face Roman Reigns at Mania 33 in Orlando. In the weeks building up to the show, Roman talked about wanting to put Taker down for good, but at least on TV, Taker resisted. I’m sure plans had set in motion by that point.
This past Wednesday, it was rumored that the main event had been switched. Instead of Goldberg/Brock ending the show, it would be Roman/Taker. Why would a match with far less build and intrigue be the main event of the biggest show of the year? “There’s only one reason,” I told myself.
So there we were on Sunday. When the video package for Brock/Goldberg began to play on the screen two matches before the main event slot, we knew what was coming. Taker/Roman would main event, and we knew the result deep down.
At the end of the match, which was surprisingly solid, Roman had Taker down. Taker looked at Roman with hazy eyes and said “You don’t have the balls.” After a 4th or 5th spear from Reigns, he pinned Taker to the mat, 1-2-3.
Roman exited the ring, leaving Taker to do what he needed to do. I haven’t watched what happened next back yet, nor did I record any of it myself, but I got to see it with my own eyes live and in person so if I never got to see it again I think I’d be okay. Taker stood up, and as the crowd wept, cheered, bowed down, etc., Taker began a ritual. With the lights turned off, his music played one last time and he put his coat and hat back on, again, for the last time. He then took off the coat, folded it, put on the ground. Took the hat off, put it on the ground. Took a deep breath, and rolled his eyes into the back of his head, one last time. He exited the ring, and kissed his wife, Michelle McCool, breaking character for the first time in his illustrious career. He walked slowly up the ramp, stood on the platform that he rose up on during his entrance and turned around. I could never begin to read that face of his, but I didn’t sense anguish, I didn’t sense pain, I didn’t sense hopelessness. I felt love. Love for the sport of professional wrestling, for the fans who had stuck with him for so long, for the character of The Undertaker who no longer was. He soaked in the ovation, and for the last time, at the climax of his music, rose his arm to the sky. As did we. And we clapped, and cheered, and cried, and hugged, and felt a piece of us die with him. With smoke billowing from the floor, he began to descend. Descend into a life where he is no longer The Undertaker. Descend away from us as that mystical character. Descend into a world where he no longer has to carry a burden. He slowly slipped away, and then the man himself was gone, while the articles of clothing remained in the center of the ring.
I can never begin to understand how there were people in that stadium that night who felt that they could leave while that was all happening. Streams of people exited from the floor, and many others out of their rows on the upper levels. One women passed me on the way out of my row, and stood in front of me for a few seconds, blocking my view, before I was able to look at her and crack out a quiet “Get the hell out of my way, you bitch.” If you consider yourself a fan of professional wrestling and you did this, or you turned off the TV or shut your laptop, you are not. You failed to pay respect to the man who helped build this industry and carried it on his back for so many years. You failed to pay respect to the greatest performer in the history of the business, and there will never be another like him. You failed, and you as a “fan”, are a disgrace.
I don’t know how I felt that night. I don’t really know what I was doing while that was all happening and I don’t really want to know. My best friend, Graham, met me outside the venue after the show, and his pure joy of being at his first Mania as well as his uncanny ability to understand every aspect of me, made me crack a smile. I loosened up a bit, and I tried to take in my surroundings. I tried to think.
All I was able to think of was one word. Grateful. Grateful to have seen it live. Grateful for the man who was and is the catalyst for my love of wrestling, which has brought me to so many unexpected places and introduced me to so many unexpected people. It has given me a drive for a career path. It has given me a passion to look forward to engulfing myself into multiple times a week. It has absolutely altered my life in so many ways, and it is all because of that incredible man.
So Undertaker, Mark Calloway…..whoever you are now, all I can say is one thing. Thank you.
Ain’t no grave….
nwademusic 
Thank You Taker.
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