Oh, this absolutely rules. Think of the WWE Hall of Fame as wrestling’s version of a jersey retirement ceremony. Sure, people love to dunk on WWE for being a scripted show where backstage politics often define “greatness,” but let’s be real—who in their right mind would push a bad wrestler and still thrive decades later?
I’ve been a Triple H fan since his days leading the Army version of D-Generation X. In fact, I’ve been spitting water in the shower for almost three decades now.
I even taught my son how to do The Game’s Water Fountain.
Hehe.
And yeah, people hated his 15-minute opening promos, but I kind of enjoyed them. He could have easily ended up like Jack Swagger, The Great Khali, or Jinder Mahal—forgettable champions who never cemented a lasting legacy. Instead, he became a 14-time WWE World Heavyweight Champion (10x WWE Champion, 4x World Heavyweight Champion), a 3x Intercontinental Champion, a 2x European Champion, a 2x Tag Team Champion, the 1997 King of the Ring, and a man who wrestled in 23 WrestleManias. How could he not be in the Hall of Fame?
His influence extended far beyond his career. He shaped the later version of Shawn Michaels and helped elevate Sean Waltman, Chyna, The New Age Outlaws, Randy Orton, Batista, and even the mentor version of Ric Flair. And during his time running NXT, he built a new generation of stars who are now carrying the industry. Sure, he married Stephanie McMahon, giving him power even after his in-ring career, but that doesn’t change the fact that he worked to earn his spot as Vince McMahon’s heir apparent.
And let’s not forget his impact outside the ring. At one point, NXT was better than the main roster product. In some ways, Vince McMahon’s decision to gut NXT led to the rise of AEW—because when NXT was firing on all cylinders, it was the best thing in wrestling. Even when AEW crushed NXT in the Wednesday Night Wars, that period showed us a preview of what Triple H could do when given full control.
Now, in the WWE-UFC merger era, Triple H is arguably the most powerful figure in WWE, leading the company into the Netflix deal, partnerships with TNA and other promotions, and even mending fences with names once considered persona non grata—Bruno Sammartino, Bret Hart, The Ultimate Warrior, Cody Rhodes, and CM Punk.
Yes, I’ve focused more on his executive achievements than his in-ring career, but that’s just the reality of his legacy. Triple H isn’t just the Cerebral Assassin in the ring—he’s played the long game behind the scenes, and it’s paid off. He deserves this recognition.