Blog
17th April 2026
The Mania Weekend. Of Legacy and Memories.
By Jason Kirby PN1-SSRS, Living Proof Deep Health: The Heaviest Weight Is Doubt
WrestleMania weekend is here.
And even now… it still feels like something.
Not just another show.
Not just another weekend.
Something a little louder.
A little bigger.
A little more alive.
There’s going to be everything you expect—big moments, ridiculous entrances, chaos, energy…
a few things that hit perfectly, and a few that make you just shake your head and laugh.
That’s always been part of it.
Because for me, this was never just something you watched.
Even when it was just one night…it was something you built a weekend around.
Cookouts.
People over.
That almost Super Bowl-level anticipation where the day mattered just as much as the show.
I can still remember going to the video store.
Back when that was an actual thing.
Walking in already knowing what I was getting—
horror movies… or wrestling.
And more often than not, it was WrestleMania tapes.
Rewinding them. Watching them again.
Same matches. Same moments.
Didn’t matter.
It never got old.
In my house, wrestling didn’t start with the bright lights.
It started with the grit.
The NWA.
Gordon Solie on the call—steady, serious, like what you were watching actually mattered.
Then Tony Schiavone bringing his own energy to it.
That was the base.
That molded into what would eventually become World Championship Wrestling, but it started with the territories—
World Class out of Texas.
Mid-South.
Georgia Championship Wrestling.
The AWA out of Minnesota.
Different styles. Different feels.
But all of it felt real in a way that pulled you in before you even knew why.
And then there was the World Wrestling Federation.
I’ll be honest…
I didn’t like it at first.
It felt too bright.
Too over-the-top.
Too cartoonish compared to what I was used to.
And Hulk Hogan? Yeah… never bought in. Still don’t.
But even then…you couldn’t ignore WrestleMania.
Because WrestleMania was different.
It wasn’t just wrestling.
It was a spectacle.
The lights hit different.
The entrances felt like events before the match even started.
The music, the crowd, the scale of it—it all came together in a way nothing else did.
It was bigger than the ring.
And even if you didn’t love everything about it…you felt it.
And then there was the moment it stopped being something I just watched…and became something I actually experienced.
WrestleMania VIII.
Indianapolis. 1992.
I was there.
And even now… that still feels a little surreal to say.
Because it wasn’t just a show—it was that show.
Seeing Randy Savage and Ric Flair in the same ring…feeling that crowd, that energy, that moment—it’s hard to explain unless you’ve been in it.
And then Bret Hart and Roddy Piper.
Different kind of intensity.
Different kind of story.
But just as real.
And Piper…
My lord—Hot Rod. Hot Rod, Roddy Piper.
That wasn’t the first or last time I was lucky enough to see him.
But every single time—live or on TV—he brought something different.
Unpredictable.
Electric.
Right on that edge where it felt like anything could happen.
And I’ll always stand by that.
He was one of those guys you didn’t just watch.
You felt when he was out there.
“Best part of my job? When you come with your daddy, and your mommy and you’re all excited. We can put a smile on a little boy’s face – that’s the greatest reward a guy could ever have in his life.”
— Roddy Piper
And that’s the thing about WrestleMania.
It isn’t built on one era.
It’s layered.
It’s the electricity of The Rock and Hulk Hogan staring each other down—
a moment where the crowd decided what mattered more than anything scripted ever could.
It’s Shawn Michaels and The Undertaker, back-to-back years, telling a story that didn’t just end a match…
it closed a chapter of wrestling itself.
It’s Stone Cold Steve Austin refusing to quit—passing out before giving up…
then years later winning his first World title, then yet again, somehow coming back years later to stand across from Kevin Owens and tear the house down like he never left.
It’s evolution.
It’s Charlotte Flair, Becky Lynch, and Ronda Rousey closing the show—
not as a “moment for women’s wrestling,” but as the main event.
No qualifiers. No asterisks.
And now?
It’s still happening.
Right in front of us.
It’s the rise of The Ruler, Oba Femi stepping into a moment with Brock Lesnar—
the kind of stage that doesn’t just showcase you… it defines you.
It’s the rise of someone like Oba Femi stepping into a moment with someone like Brock Lesnar—
the kind of stage that doesn’t just showcase you… it defines you.
The irony of this man truly being the “Next Big Thing” facing off with Brock who’s monicker has been “The Next Big Thing” for years isn’t an accident.
Oba will be a generational talent and though his career started a couple of years ago in NXT, his legacy begins Sunday April 19th when he opens the show facing off against Brock.
It’s matches like Liv Morgan and Stephanie Vaquer—
Where the conversation isn’t about potential anymore.
It’s about presence.
Performance.
Proof.
About showing—without saying it—what Superstars actually looks like.
And that’s where it all lands for me.
WrestleMania was never really about one match.
Or one era.
It’s about moments that stay with you longer than you expect.
Moments that feel bigger than what they are on paper.
Moments that connect versions of you across time.
The kid rewinding tapes.
The one sitting in a crowd in 1992 trying to take it all in.
The one now… watching with a different perspective, but the same feeling when it hits right.
It’s not perfect.
It never has been.
But it was never supposed to be.
It’s loud.
It’s chaotic.
It’s over-the-top.
And somehow…
that’s exactly why it lasts.
Because for one weekend every year…
it reminds you of something simple:
That it’s okay to feel something about this.
To get pulled into it.
To remember where you were when you first saw it.
To still care—just a little more than you probably admit.
And maybe that’s the real legacy of WrestleMania.
Not just what happens in the ring…
…but the fact that, year after year,
it keeps giving you something worth remembering.
Reflection Questions
- What is something from your childhood that still makes you feel something when you experience it today?
(Not what you think should matter—what actually does.) - When was the last time you felt genuinely excited about something… without overthinking it?
- What moments in your life have felt “bigger than they should have been” on paper—but stayed with you anyway?
- Who or what first pulled you into something you loved… and why do you think it stuck?
- What have you outgrown… and what have you chosen to hold onto anyway?
(There’s a difference.) - Where in your life are you still chasing a feeling you remember having before?
- What does “spectacle” look like in your life now?
(Not necessarily big—just something that makes you feel present, engaged, alive.) - When you look back at different versions of yourself… what has actually stayed consistent?
- What is something you still care about… even if you don’t talk about it much anymore?
- If you stripped everything down… what kinds of moments actually make your life feel full?
(Not impressive. Not productive. Just real.)