The summer of 1997: I’m a kid, watching a wrestling match on TV and all I can do is think, “Imagine if I was a wrestler, I’d be called The Dream! Because that’s all it is, is a dream.” I have watched wrestling on TV since I was very little. Some times for Halloween, I would dress up as a wrestler. One year I put on a bushy, yellow yarn “fu manchu” and went as my idol, Hollywood Hulk Hogan.
One match I will never forget: Back in 1987, Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant in front of 93,000 fans in Wrestle Mania III. Andre was unstoppable, everyone said. But I saw Hulk take Andre over his shoulder and slam him against the mat. People said the impossible just happened. It was a great day for me. It was like a sign from the TV. If Hulk could do the impossible, then so could I. “I will overcome!” I thought. “I will be a champion, just like my idol, Hulk Hogan.” I began to believe that one day, I could take any wrestler that would fight me in the ring—different people that I dealt with in real life—so they would not make me feel weak. That’s why the Dream would be a perfect wrestling name for me. Because that’s all it is, is a Dream.
I started taping all the fights, buying all the videos and all the wrestling video games, which I still do today. And of course don’t forget the fan magazines that I made a collection out of-and the 150 wrestling action figures I accumulated.
In junior high, I met a lady in the supermarket who worked at the WWF. Her name was Diana. She was in her 20s. I remember she was wearing a shirt with a picture of the wrestler Nitro on it. One thing led to another and we became friends. Ever since then, she would send me some real nice memorabilia from the wrestling shows.
But enough about wrestling. Let’s get back to some of my great moments—with a little bit of grief in the mix. The year was 1999 and I’d just made it in the newspaper. I won’t mention which one. The article says, “Even though he is in a wheelchair, Christopher Neves is still a five-time Special Olympics medal winner. Neves is not your average 16-year-old senior.” (This is where it gets good.) “He has muscular dystrophy, a crippling disease that requires him to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. This would limit many people, but not Neves. While growing up, his parents encouraged him to strive for his goals. He has participated in the Special Olympics for the past two years.”
Talk about getting the facts wrong! For starters I do not have muscular dystrophy! I have cerebral palsy. I could go on and on about this disorder, but I won’t. The writer did get all the other stuff right. I did make my parents proud of me. I clipped the article and scratched out the part he got wrong and made it right for me. But the part I liked best was the picture of me holding a bat with a big smile on my face. It looks like I have a big strong grip on that bat and you can’t even notice the wheelchair at all. Looks like I’m standing. Pretty cool.
I’m pretty strong. The inability to walk is about the only thing that really makes someone like me feel somewhat helpless sometimes. I was born premature. No bigger than a ruler. For some time, when I started to make sense of things, I thought it was normal for me to be the way I was. I thought that I would walk when my body was good and ready. Sometimes I’d stare at my family members and think to myself that I’m not in a wheelchair or I’m not handicapped. I’m just disabled. Even more than that, I’m Christopher. Forget about the damn chair! I’m Christopher!
Back to wrestling. Time passes and I’m playing a wrestling game on Nintendo. I create a persona for myself: The Dream. He is powerful, just the way I wanted to be. I can whip any wrestler who shows up. In virtual reality, I am the champion. The Dream is real!
Christopher Neves lives in Brooklyn, New York. This essay is adapted from his unpublished memoir, “The Dream Begins.”
