My Dad Is A Roman Reigns Fan And I Can’t Live With It Anymore
I’m a lifelong fan of professional wrestling, thanks to my dad. We’ve always enjoyed cheering for the best of the best. From Stone Cold flipping off Vince to The Rock electrifying millions, both my dad and I were hardcore fans. But as time moved on, things have changed. The current era of WWE has thrown a curveball into my love of wrestling, and more important, my relationship with my father. My dad is a huge Roman Reigns fan, and it’s destroying my whole family.
It all started when…
My father’s horrid truth revealed itself during WrestleMania 33. When Roman pinned The Undertaker, my dad cheered louder than I had ever heard him cheer at any of my Little League games. I distinctly remember him chanting “Roman Empire, Roman Empire” over and over. He was being a loud dick about it. My mom even told him to knock it off because she could hear him from the wine cellar. It’s no coincidence that her binge drinking began that night.
When I was a kid, my dad was my hero. I thought he was the smartest man in the world. Now, I think he’s a total dumbass. This past Halloween, he dressed up like Roman, got drunk, and fought the neighbor about his stupid property line. The cops showed up as my dad attempted his third spear. It was embarrassing hearing my dad scream Roman’s mantra, “This is my yard!” as he was manhandled into the back of a squad car.
The Bahamas Incident
The final straw happened the week of my parents’ 35th wedding anniversary. They took a trip to the Bahamas with hopes of some quality R. and R. When they arrived, my dad ditched my mom and spent seven hours getting a replica Roman Reigns shoulder henna tattoo. No kid wants to get a call from their crying mother, drunk and alone at a Jimmy Buffett–themed karaoke bar. This is what my dad put us through for his unwavering love of the four-time WWE Champion. They filed for divorce three weeks later.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad. I tried making a last-ditch effort to salvage some of our father-son relationship. I stared him in his face and asked if he had realized what being a Roman Reigns fan had done to our family. He immediately got angry and defensive and told me I was the bad one. “How can you hate Roman? He just beat leukemia,” he asked. “Do you hate people who beat leukemia?”
Some people cut off communication to their parents because they start believing there’s a Jesus living in their loaf of bread. Shit, I could probably tolerate my dad spouting off Sean Hannity talking points or joining ISIS. But not this.
My dad loves Roman Reigns, and now, I can’t love my dad. WWE is right, Roman is “The Guy”—the guy that makes sure my kids never meet their grandfather.
Images: World Wrestling Entertainment, Inc.
Katie Goldin’s Golden Rules
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