A tribute to the man called Sting

Celebrating the career of a wrestling legend before his final battle.

As Sting prepares to take his final bow, like many, I’m flooded with memories and struck by how swiftly time has passed. I first saw Sting almost 40 years ago, and among all the personalities I first encountered, he’s the only performer still active from that golden age in wrestling.

I was eight when I began watching professional wrestling, specifically the World Wrestling Federation. A year later, thanks to cable TV, my exposure broadened. That’s when I first saw Sting. At the time, Sting was a year into his career and wrestling for promoter Bill Watts’ Universal Wrestling Federation. As a member of “Hot Stuff” Eddie Gilbert’s stable, Hot Stuff International, Inc., he and Rick Steiner were the UWF Tag Team Champions.

But the Stinger that I came to know and admire was the performer who showed up in Jim Crockett Promotions after Crockett bought out the UWF. There, Sting was a burgeoning superhero that combined the best parts of Hulk Hogan, the Road Warriors, and his former tag team partner, The Ultimate Warrior. At the same time, Sting was something new and different, which made him exciting.

Hard as this may be for some to believe, there was a time when I rooted for the good guys, and Sting was among the few I cheered loudest for. He was colorful and charismatic, yet somehow relatable. Though he was sometimes silly, Sting always portrayed strength.

Most of all, he was human.

Thanks to the brainwashing of the WWF, I believed that a good guy had to be indestructible to be a decent wrestler. It’s why when Sting lost close matches to Ric Flair, Vader, or Rick Rude, I was left with a sick feeling in my stomach.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen. Now what?”

As it turned out, Sting’s vulnerabilities didn’t make him weak. Instead, they made him more compelling because he took defeat with grace and dignity. He remained upbeat when all hope seemed lost.

Over time, Sting transformed in response to the rise of the New World Order, a menacing group that stood to destroy World Championship Wrestling, his longtime home. Adopting a darker persona akin to The Crow, Sting developed a strong desire for justice and revenge yet maintained his core identity as a righteous hero.

But it’s Sting, the blond bombshell from Venice Beach, CA, I remember best.

During this era, Sting’s vibrant appearance and lively demeanor embodied optimism. Despite setbacks, his resilient spirit and genuine heart persisted. He was the face of fair play and honesty, someone the other good guys could trust. Although his association with rulebreakers like Ric Flair and Lex Luger often resulted in conflict, Sting remained open-hearted and welcoming, offering them a chance at redemption.

In 1991, I had a chance to meet Sting following a WCW live event in San Diego. After the matches, a flock of fans waited outside the San Diego Concourse parking lot in hopes of meeting the stars. Earlier, one performer gave us the brush off before speeding away in his rental car.

But not Sting. Despite being besieged by an overly enthusiastic bunch, he took the time to sign every sign, poster, and program, including mine, all the while maintaining a gracious and professional demeanor.

While I generally don’t connect with most modern do-gooders, Sting remains, in my view, one of the greatest babyface characters in wrestling history. Though Sting had his personal challenges, like his wrestling persona, he persevered, mirroring his on-screen resilience and pushing forward until he emerged victorious.

I’d be lying if I said there weren’t moments in Sting’s final tour of duty that didn’t leave me feeling uneasy. And as he and Darby Allin mix it up with the Young Bucks at AEW’s Revolution pay-per-view, their exhibition will likely have me clutching my pearls once more. But as the train pulls into its final stop, I hope for a smooth ride for all involved and a fitting send-off for Sting, as should be customary for our favorite performers.

Thirty-nine years.

Indeed, what a ride.

Thanks for the memories, Sting.