Rest in Peace, Windham Rotunda aka Bray Wyatt.
I worked a full day yesterday. After my 9–5, I went home, took my dogs out for a walk, came back inside to fix myself dinner, then sat on my couch to unwind by playing some FIFA while I waited for my girlfriend to come home. When she walked in it was business as usual: our dogs went crazy with excitement that their other human was home, she changed into her comfy clothes, and then sat on the couch with me so we could talk about our days.
Maybe an hour passes by, and I get a notification on my phone from Bleacher Report. I’m a fan of a lot of sports, so I assumed it would have been the final score of the Atlanta Braves game, or an update on Lionel Messi and Inter Miami, or even a preseason anecdote about the Boston Celtics. What I saw wasn’t even registered as a possibility in my brain.
Former WWE Wrestler and current Chief Content Officer HHH tweeted the somber news: Bray Wyatt has passed away. I was, and still am while writing this, floored.
Grief has a funny way of displaying itself, and while I try my best to not fall into a stereotype or a status quo, I immediately went into denial. “No, that’s not true.” “This is probably a hoax.” “We just had an update on him a couple weeks ago, he’s fine! This is just a big misunderstanding.” Then the hours passed, and there was no positive update, just more news confirming the loss of a WWE superstar, and a hero to many.
The world of wrestling is a smaller world than you may expect. You probably know someone, or maybe you are the someone, who watched WWE in the 90’s during the “Attitude Era” with Stone Cold Steven Austin and The Rock, but hasn’t kept up with it since. Myself on the other hand, along with my brother and some of my closest friends, have been fans for life. Sure, we may dip in and out of love with the product, but we always come back. In our fandom, we have had our losses of idols: people like Scott Hall, Dusty Rhodes, and The Iron Sheik, but much like Eddie Guerrero, Bray Wyatt was taken from us much too soon.
It has now been reported by Sean Ross Sapp that Windham had caught COVID that exacerbated a heart issue, and while things were turning up towards recovery, he had a sudden heart attack and passed away.
I enjoyed the Bray Wyatt character so much. From Cult Leader, to demonic entity, to an evil version of Mr. Rogers, Windham’s creativity and passion bled through to be viewed by the WWE Universe. I’m proud to say that I got to see him at a house show while he was the WWE Champion, and even though he was performing in front of a less than sold out arena to a smaller market than he may be accustomed to, not to mention none of this show being on live TV, you could tell how much he loved this business, how much he loved showing off his creative mind, and how much having the WWE Championship meant to him.
When I saw the news on my phone, I thought of that house show and how much I enjoyed his work. I was also brought back to a familiar feeling in my stomach: mortality.
This isn’t my first experience with a celebrity’s passing, unfortunately. I don’t have the time to list all of them in my life, but I sure do remember the ones that hit the hardest. I’ve lost a lot of heroes in my life: Stan Lee, Steve Irwin, and Bill Russell. Stan and Bill lived long and healthy lives so when they passed I was sad but I was able to see life for what it was: a journey. Steve Irwin was taken from us far too soon as well, but I was so young that it was more like a void being left rather than a pain that accompanied the loss, though I grew to enjoy the passion he had for animals and wildlife after his death.
Reading the Bray Wyatt news made me feel the exact same way I felt when I heard of Kobe Bryant’s passing: what I was doing, where I was, who I was with. It will always be with me as long as I live. I was at my dad’s house, sitting in a recliner, playing Call of Duty with some of my friends. The next few hours were a blur that I don’t remember much of. All I can recall is me not saying much in the Xbox party and instead remembering all the moments in my sports watching life that Kobe made special. Then came the existential dread.
Windham was 36. Kobe was 41. Steve Irwin was 44. Life isn’t always fair. If I’m being fair, life is almost never fair. We get our heart broken, we get disappointed, and we lose people we care about. In some twisted way, losing a celebrity that we care about sometimes puts the lives of yourself and your loved ones into perspective. “If it can happen to famous people, it can happen to me.”
I didn’t let my girlfriend know about the news. She doesn’t watch wrestling, no matter how much I beg her to. I never let her know that I was upset; probably because of some macho man garbage that I can’t unpack right now, but I don’t ever want her to know that I’m upset, especially because of the complicated relationship that we all can have with losing someone we never met. What I did do, however, was hug her tighter. I held her hand the majority of the time we had left in the evening. I kissed her more before bed, and when I woke up this morning I gave her a big squeeze and told her how much I love her.
Losing someone in the public eye so young shows how fragile life can be, and how little time we actually get to spend with the people we love. When something like this happens, I personally love harder. I take more time to spend with friends and family. More importantly, I spend more time telling the special people in my life that I love them and want the best for them. After reading this, I hope we all do the same.
Windham left behind four children. If you are a fan of the WWE or want to help them in any way, I would encourage you to go to shop.wwe.com and buy some Bray Wyatt merchandise. The description of Bray Wyatt merch states “In the wake of Bray Wyatts’s death, WWE will donate all net proceeds to support Jojo Offerman and Bray’s children.”
Be kind. Be supportive. Tell someone you love them.
Round The Game 
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