Last Call for Wrestling’s Avenging Superhero
I can’t tell you what my first memory of Sting is. I can’t remember the first match I saw, never mind who his opponent was. I can’t remember the year either.
When I was growing up the cable package we had didn’t include NWA or WCW, so the only time I ever got to see him was when I went over to my grandfather’s on Saturdays, or on long weekends when a slew of U.S. channels opened up and I got to watch WCW Saturday Night on TBS. It was a little jarring jumping from feuds with Flair to Vader to Rude for many years before TSN finally got the rights to Nitro and I could watch WCW much more consistently; all the same, I was a little Stinger.
But what I do remember is how I felt watching him when I was a kid. He was electrifying before it was part of a catchphrase. He drew you to him with his presence and charisma, and looking back now he managed to blend speed, strength and character with that charisma into a unique package that few possessed and is difficult to match even now. Unsurprisingly the first WCW figure I bought was Sting from the old first wave of Galoob toys. I still have it at my mom’s place to this day, and I just remember matching him up against Savage, Hogan, Dibiase and Andre the Giant on a daily basis.
I’ve been a Sting fan almost as long as I’ve been a wrestling fan. I’ve been a fan across eras, from early surfer Sting, to when he let the blonde fade. From Crow and Wolfpac Sting, through his latter WCW days leading into his lengthy TNA run, I’ve been happy to watch him evolve and grow.
Equally so, watching his WWE run and career end so abruptly was heartbreaking.
He deserved better than that run, and to have that be his final chapter.
If you’ve ever watched that match with Seth Rollins, the match felt “final.” There was no other conclusion to draw up and I feel like if you grew up with Sting, especially more so if you got to see him on a more consistent basis, that was even far more the case. Punctuated by his much deserved WWE Hall of Fame Induction, Sting was retired. It was the right call, especially at his age at the time. It was a certainty.
I remember during his HoF video package the team threw around words like “mythical,” enigmatic,” “timeless,” “vigilante.” All of those are true to both Steve Borden and Sting, even if the lines have been blurred between the two halves over the years. Let’s talk about a few of them though.
Enigmatic: The transition from “surfer dude” to a vigilante anti-hero clad in black that’s equal parts Batman, Rocky Horror Picture Show and Brandon Lee’s Crow defined the thesis of what it meant to be WCW standing against the antithetical nWo in the mid-90s. With no one left, who do we turn to? As fans, who’s left to cheer for with no one left standing? It’s the man in the rafters that everyone believed had turned, who never let his loyalty waver, never uttered a word for nearly a year, and showed up when it mattered even when you didn’t understand why.
Mythical: For a time, he was a myth as he navigated the rafters of WCW arenas. Never speaking, but always watching. Popping in and out as he rappelled down into the ring to take on the nWo by himself baseball bat in hand. Except for that one time of course when did away with the rappelling and just stormed from the crowd, hit the ring , dropped the bat and just beat the hell out of everyone. For as much we can malign his match with Hogan at Starrcade ’97, the build-up to the match and his entrance that night is the definition of mythic. And in some ways that feeling was later captured when he arrived in TNA, WWE and AEW. Wherever he has gone, his aura of wonder has followed him and we latch on to that because we love him. What he represents and how he carries himself.
Vigilante: To a degree I hate that this is the word WWE threw around during his short run, but if you take it in context, what a vigilante is is someone who operates outside convention. That can be true of laws, ideas, norms, and more succinctly with wrestling the overarching expectation of how characters work. It also works in the “hitting corporate dudes with baseball bats” schtick. But very much like Batman, that vigilantism in context is what saved WCW from the evils of the nWo, what brought hope to the company and kept fans who watched glued to the show when WCW was on top for 80+ weeks. He was the hero wrestling deserved, and contrary to the Dark Knight, also the one it needed at the same time.
Timeless: And over the years fans have not forgot the heroic acts of the character. It’s why myself and others have followed him across the decades, why wrestlers were inspired by him and why new grapplers look up to him even now. If you watched the recent AEW Revolution countdown show, mixed in with commentaries from Adam Copeland, Darby Allin, and Tony Schiavone, is a shot of Sting without facepaint just talking with Mariah May–someone nearly 40 years younger than him. That’s the impact he’s had on all of us. He’s transcended simply being a wrestler who does cool things to being a multi-generational icon in a way that it actually means something.
The Icon
When you wrap it all up, who is Sting?
To answer that question we need to look at the man and his willingness to evolve. For his impacts over the years and how even now, at his age, he continues to push the boundaries of what’s expected of individuals between the ropes. He understood the need to change from just another painted-face wrestler to something that represents a principle worth standing for, to someone standing against villainous pro wrestling injustices. It didn’t matter if it was a corporation, family or group of heels looking to take over, Sting was the constant figure ever willing to twirl his ball bat before hitting you with it. He’s someone who changed with the times, always gave more than he needed to, and helped along the next generation in ways we don’t see because it was the right thing to do.
Whether blonde or brown haired, his face painted colourfully, white, red or whatever his Joker facepaint was, Sting was a constant source of entertainment who captivated fans and gave them a comic book style hero that seemed realistic among cartoony characters.
That’s also what made the reason for his retirement that much more crushing.
Months later at his induction ceremony he went through his history and there was a moment where he summed up the end of his journey to that point:
“The only sure thing about Sting is nothing is for sure. Until now. On this very night, at this very moment, I’m going to finish my career under the WWE umbrella and I am so proud of that. I am officially going to retire tonight… I want you to know, this isn’t goodbye. It’s just see you later.”
He meant it, even if in the moment as contented as he seemed, you knew he wanted that one last match; that cinematic match with Undertaker being top of mind. There’s something to be said–for all of us–in living your life on your own terms. Punctuating the story of your life however you like whether it’s a comma if you’re not quite sure what you’re doing, an ellipses if you want to leave it all open ended, an exclamation if you’re bowing out in a blaze of glory when the time is right, or in Sting’s case a simple period when you’re happy with the body of work you’ve produced and at last there’s nothing more to say.
Since the day he arrived in AEW Sting’s last ride has been a roller coaster. Then there was the day he took a Brian Cage powerbomb and we all held our breath in wonder: Did that just happen? Is he OK? What is going on? What does this mean? And from there he’s exceeded expectation, going from a man who wowed us as children to captivating us as adults as we marvel at his drive and passion to continue doing what he loves in his final chapter.
It’s an opportunity he’s earned, and how the match ends narratively is almost inconsequential because where it matters his hand is already raised. Sting has won whether or not he and Darby Allin walk out of the arena as AEW tag team champions. What matters more are the moments building to it where we will see the same defiant man who took on the Four Horseman, the nWo, Jeff Jarrett, HHH and the Authority, and ultimately cataclysmic physical injury and his own personal struggles. We will also see the same defiant man who stepped forward once again in AEW to balk at our expectations and transcend what we thought we understood about him and what he could do en route to reigniting our love of him. He’s helped us remember why we followed him, maybe why we became fans in the first place, and what it means to stand up and decide for yourself what you want to do.
So much of living is determining what path you want to take, but the hardest part is walking it and having the resolve to continue down that road. And even if you hit a bump, or come to an impassable barrier, there’s always a helicopter to take flight in and rappel down from on the other side. And if there’s any one lesson to be taken from his journey amid the standard talk of giving back to wrestling, on a personal life-living level, it’s the audacity to try when the destination seems cloudy or dangerous and understanding it’s a step worth taking anyway. To do that, and to do it on your own terms without compromising yourself is the epitome of success.
While my first memories of Sting are a bit fuzzy, the moments he made and the path he walked will be my takeaways. He had no roadmap and worked every day with his head up, ready to beat his chest and wooooooah(!) at each new day.
