The Undertaker Just Said Farewell (Pretty Sure He Meant It)

Thirty years ago, I was an awkward, very ugly 11-year-old with a VCR and parents who elected to raise me by sticking me with all sorts of electronic stimulation. Now, I'm an adult who has the WWE Network who lives with a wife that lets me spend my time watching wrestling while she uses electronic stimulation.

Through it all, there's been wrestling. There's been The Undertaker. He made his debut at Survivor Series in 1990. And he was terrifying immediately.

This dude was around for 30 years. Some of the biggest names in the industry came and went, he was there. He killed people, buried people alive, set them on fire and never once caught a charge. I love pro wrestling. It's my favorite thing and this dude was part of it nearly the entire time. And on Sunday night, it ended. The Undertaker rode off into the sunset. He rested in peace. He went back to the graveyard. He died. I dunno, the man retired. It was pretty fuckin' awesome.

Listen, you might like pro wrestling, you might not. I love this shit. Why? Welp, tonight I watched a dead man ride off into the sunset while his friends, which included a pimp and two hog farmers, all showed their support. That shit is beautiful.

Also, quick Survivor Series review:

Drew McIntyre vs. Roman Reigns was awesome, the match of the night. Street Profits vs. New Day was a great tag team match and Sash Banks-Asuka was top notch. The rest of the show was fine, but those were the highlights.