Fear the Boogeyman

Discovering that you've been missing out on a professional wrestler named The Boogeyman who spits chewed-up worms at his opponents is like suddenly finding out that Jessica Simpson's breasts lactate Jack and Coke; in other words, as pleasantly disturbing as a surprise can be.

Wrestling and I have a strained relationship these days. I'm in full flipper mode — I don't make time for the WWE, but if my channel surfing gets me caught on a Smackdown sandbar, I'll stick with it for a few moments. It's a level of devotion far removed from a decade ago, when I'd schedule meals and phone calls around the three-hour block of wrestling that was "Monday Night Raw" and "Nitro."

I think my problem with wrestling today is that it appears, on the surface, to be utterly gimmick-free. This fits with its natural evolutionary cycle:

* It begins with wrestlers that have unmemorable names, whose only gimmicks are their natural charisma and, in some case, behemoth-like size.

* Eventually, stars break out from the pack, and personas are crafted for them. See "Austin, Stone Cold Steve" and "Rock, The."

* As the popularity of wrestling takes its inevitable cultural upswing, more outlandish characters are added to the mix, with prepackaged gimmicks for the purpose of eliciting a response. This is usually where Vince McMahon introduces his gay character or his stand-in for whichever brown people our country is bombing that week.

* That popularity peaks, and desperation sets in. This is where we get wrestling plumbers, wrestling minor league baseball players, wrestling race car drivers named "Sparky Plugg" (no, seriously) and situations where voodoo priests named Papa Shango make their opponents vomit green goo with evil spells (no, no, no ... seriously).

The Boogeyman has that Shango vibe, what with the disturbing face-paint and jewelry that appears to be crafted from sacrificed chicken bones or from unlucky turistas. But that's where the comparison ends...

... because The Boogeyman eats and expels worms at his opponents.

I saw him do it, flipping through the channels one evening. As he and his opponent were locked up in the ring, about two dozen worms oozed out of his mouth, like a child trying to gross out his kid brother during a pasta dinner. The Boogeyman hit some nonsensical finishing move, and then dribbled worms on his foe's fallen body. I was equal parts aghast, repulsed and exhilarated. It brought me back to those days when George "The Animal" Steele would rip into the turnbuckle with his hands and pretend to eat the padding. It brought me back to that night with my dad at the Meadowlands, when Jake "The Snake" Roberts was still an untelevised house show wrestler on the undercard, and everyone in the crowd was wondering why that brown bag near the ring post kept mysteriously moving.

In a federation that seems to be overtaken by homogenous stuntmen, tattooed powerlifters, and characters whose expiration dates have long since passed, The Boogeyman was a revelation.

Turns out he's got a hell of story, too. According to several sources, The Boogeyman is a wrestler named Marty Wright. He gained some wrestling fame by getting kicked out of the "Tough Enough" reality competition for lying about his age — he claimed to be 30 and was actually 40(!), five years past the cutoff age. But he showed enough promise to earn a development gig, and eventually made his way through the ranks (and a pair of untimely injuries) to make the WWE's Smackdown roster.

Where he's now spitting worms at people.

After seeing The Boogeyman for the first time, the only two questions I had were:

1. Where can I get my Boogeyman action figure with automatic worm vomit mechanism?

2. How is this guy not the biggest wrestling star in the world right now? Why isn't The Boogeyman getting the "Man Law" beer commercials or the plum acting gigs, like Kane's Oscar-worthy performance in "See No Evil"?

I needed an expert opinion. So I turned to Scott Mackie, a fellow New Jersey Devils fanatic, admitted wrestling fanboy and someone who could talk you under the table. Seriously, remember Karen Allen's scene in "Raiders of the Lost Ark," where she wins the drinking contest? That's Scott, only with words instead of whiskey shots.

So, Scott: why isn't The Boogeyman the biggest star in wrestling?

"Heh, so in one fell swoop I have to defend, explain and rationalize one of the things I hate most on Smackdown now," he said.

Uh-oh.

Scott listed some interesting reasons for Boogey's midcard status. Like the fact that he's now 42 — although compared to Ric Flair, he might as well be in Pampers — and he's quite injury-prone. And the fact that Marty Wright is black, which has never been a benefit to a performer in the world of professional wrestling. "Say what you want: yes Ron Simmons, the Rock and Booker T all broke the race barrier and won world titles. But they seem to be the exception as much as the rule," said Mackie.

The biggest reason may be that The Boogeyman can't really, you know, "wrestle" all that well. "His character really limits what he can do in the ring," said Mackie. "Say what you want, but if you want to be atop the ladder, you better be ready to go 20-30 minutes in a match, chairs/tables/cages/whatever, if you want to main event. I think I've seen him hit three actual moves in a match — ONCE."

The overall reaction from the "smart" fans, according to Scott, is down the middle: some find Boogey entertaining, others find him to be a "sports entertainment" abomination. In Mackie's case, The Boogeyman's appearances earn a push of the fast-forward button on his DVR.

"And the worms stuff is NASTY," he added.

Sure, it's nasty. Sure, his wrestling skills make Andre the Giant look like Chris Benoit.

But if I'm flipping through the channels and I see a guy who looks like a cross between Darth Maul and Kamala the Ugandan Headhunter shimmying down the aisle with worms in his mouth, I'm stopping to watch the match ... after I check MTV to see if Jessica Simpson is finally doing her infamous Jack and Coke trick.

Greg Wyshynski is the Features Editor for SportsFan Magazine in Washington, DC, and the Senior Sports Editor for The Connection Newspapers of Northern Virginia. His book is "Glow Pucks and 10-Cent Beer: The 101 Worst Ideas in Sports History." His columns appear every Saturday on Sports Central. You can e-mail Greg at [email protected].