There have been no small number of "insane" characters to pass through the ropes into the squared circle over the years. From redneck avengers like "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan to the fabulous furry freak brother George "The Animal" Steele, every incarnation of the WWF/WWE has had its maniac-in-residence.

But how many of them have been best-selling authors?

How many of them have played not one, not two, but multiple characters over the years; each with its own personality but each unmistakably fueled by the same twisted genius? And how many of them, in the midst of their ranting, could equate the damage they're threatening to inflict on an opponent with a biblical epic? Mick Foley, in a true virtuoso performance delivered from a rocking chair and holding a rose (for starters), promised Randy Orton "the sort of bleeding normally reserved for the special effects guys in a Mel Gibson biblical film."

Yes, friends, Mick Foley, the man who gave sweatsocks their own evil sort of life, has never been better. Of course, he's lost a step or two in the ring. Sure, he probably can't take quite the physical punishment he used to, but there's a reason why wrestling is called "sports entertainment."

Leave the "sports" end of thing to musclebound clowns like Batista, Goldberg and the rest of the knuckledraggers. Foley is entertainment. And Foley is GOOD.

Good Old J.R.

And while I'm paying homage, a quick word about my good pal Jim "J.R." Ross. Despite having a mouth that seems to never move, the man is a positive fountain of country wit and wisdom. Whether a hapless wrestler is being "beaten like a gummint mule" or a heel is "running lahk a scalded dawg," J.R. keeps things amusing ... even if he doesn't always mean to.

Two Little Words

With what two words can you turn a charade into a farce? On this Monday's "RAW" they were "special guest."

In the Chris Benoit match, we had "special guest referee" Johnny Nitro, who despite his effort to grow Rico-like sideburns still looks like he should be working one of the side stages at a cheap dance bar. He walked around for a few minutes before getting smacked out of the ring and doing a fairly unconvincing job of looking hurt.

Then, in the Triple-H/Shelton Benjamin match, which could easily have been cast as a "veteran learns from the first time and takes the youngster to school" showdown, we had the ridiculous provision that no one who wasn't "officially involved" in the match could be at ringside.

Note to new fans: ANY time you hear a special rule or requirement like that, you know exactly where the plot is coming from.

Before the match began, we had Ric Flair as guest ring announcer, who then introduced ape-man Batista as guest timekeeper (despite the fact that he's still having trouble telling the big hand from the little one) and Randy Orton as "trainer." He even brought a stool and a spit bucket to ringside.

Props to McMahon and the writers, though: before the eventual Evolution beat-down of Benjamin, at least they let the kid win the match by count-out. Benjamin's a good kid, and seems to have the physical ability and potential for showmanship that will take him far in the business.

And does anyone else see a four-on-four match between Evolution and Benjamin and his rescuers Sean Michaels, Chris Benoit and Mick Foley? As long as they reinforce the ring and make sure someone pins Batista's name to his trunks in case he gets lost on the way in, it should be good for a few yuks, especially if Foley brings Barbie along.

That's all for now. Until our next classroom session, keep hold of that tag rope!

(Professor Wrestling is a masked employee of Internet Broadcasting Systems. His hometown is listed as "Parts Unknown.")

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