About Tucker

Get to know the author of Love in the Time of Likes, Tucker Lane.

Tucker Lane’s dad didn’t push him to be a professional wrestler.

No, Cowboy Larry Lane never planted those seeds in his oldest boy’s head, despite having been a pro himself for 10 years, dropping elbows and cutting promos all across the United States and most of the Canadian provinces. In fact, whenever young Tucker would turn on WWF or WCW and jump off the living room coffee table in imitation, ol’ Cowboy would often admonish him that he was going to break his neck if he kept that shit up.

 

It was the Olympics he had his eye on, and when Tucker was born on June 4, 1988, Cowboy Larry Lane just knew that he had sired the next iconic American freestyle wrestler in the remote mountains of southwestern Colorado.

 

And for an extended period, it appeared he had.

Tucker Lane’s dad didn’t push him to be a professional wrestler.

No, Cowboy Larry Lane never planted those seeds in his oldest boy’s head, despite having been a pro himself for 10 years, dropping elbows and cutting promos all across the United States and most of the Canadian provinces. In fact, whenever young Tucker would turn on WWF or WCW and jump off the living room coffee table in imitation, ol’ Cowboy would often admonish him that he was going to break his neck if he kept that shit up.

 

It was the Olympics he had his eye on, and when Tucker was born on June 4, 1988, Cowboy Larry Lane just knew that he had sired the next iconic American freestyle wrestler in the remote mountains of southwestern Colorado.

 

And for an extended period, it appeared he had.

Tucker was a dominant youth wrestler, winning 75 of his first 76 career matches, the beginning of a reign of dominance much talked about in Colorado and the Four Corners region. He garnered many state and national accolades as a youth and prep wrestler, but by the time his scholarship expired after five years at the University of Nebraska, the gift with which Cowboy had endowed him had diminished to the point that he was little more than “above average.”

 

The Olympics but a pipe dream, Tucker had to come face-to-face with that question which haunts every old warrior: What’s next?

 

After his collegiate career came to an end, Cowboy’s old professional wrestling associates gave him an audition for the WWE, but, despite his handsome face and skill on the microphone, it quickly became obvious that Tucker was as comfortable in the ring as a feminist at a Donald Trump rally.

Luckily for Tucker, the ascetic pursuit of wrestling excellence had one unforeseen benefit. Unable to partake in any of life’s frivolities as a child, his only free time came in the back seat of Cowboy’s old Chevy van as they made their way from one wrestling tournament to the next. It was in this back seat that Tucker became lost in books and other studious undertakings—a foray that would reap more rewards than the thousands of hours in the wrestling room ever had. He left the University of Nebraska a two-time Capital One Academic All-American, an accomplishment that landed him the prestigious NCAA Postgraduate Scholarship, which he used to complete his MBA at the Citadel Graduate College in Charleston, SC.

 

It was during his time as an assistant wrestling coach at The Citadel and the University of Northern Colorado that Tucker’s long-held interest in writing developed into a full-blown passion. Able to observe, for the first time, the sport in which he’d participated his entire life, Tucker began blogging furiously on the connections he was making between wrestling and life. And what he discovered, that “Aha!” moment, changed his life irrevocably.

Wrestling, at its core, is not a sport. It’s an art. It’s a story. Every wrestler who steps on the mat, whether the world champion or the first-timer, is telling a story. The wrestler tells about the struggle and sacrifice, the confidence and the doubts that prevail in the human conscience. The wrestler reveals what he or she is about, who he or she is, for what his or her heart beats.

 

In that respect, what separates the “real” wrestler from the “professional” wrestler?

 

With each promo, with each bump, with each drop-kick to the chest, the professional wrestler is telling a story. The professional wrestler gives the audience a glimpse into his or her soul. The professional wrestler invites the onlooker to imagine, and the line between fact and fiction becomes irrelevant as we become lost in the story.

 

All “real” wrestlers are professionals, and all “professional” wrestlers are real.

 

By training Tucker to be the next Olympic champion, Cowboy Larry Lane unwittingly extended his professional wrestling lineage. He had created a storyteller.

 

These days, when Tucker isn’t sharing his colorful descriptions of everyday life with his few dozen Facebook friends, he can be found enjoying the breathtaking scenery of colorful Colorado by remaining inexplicably indoors, partaking in one of his three hobbies: teaching himself Spanish, playing chess, and listening to Warren Zevon records. Occasionally, he gets the urge to experience the wild times he missed out on as a kid, in which case he’ll head on over to karaoke night at the local dive bar and let both of the gray-headed, chain-smoking females take turns grabbing his ass while he’s on the mic, wondering what his life might have been like had he been born to Keith Richards and not Cowboy Larry Lane.

Before there was a novel, there was a life devoted to wrestling. A look through the pictures that shape Tucker’s storytelling voice.

© 2018 Wrestling Libros, LLC

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