WWE chief executive Linda McMahon with husband Vince.

A25-stone, six foot four behemoth by the name of Eddie 'Umaga' Fatu died of a heart attack in a hospital in Houston, Texas, nine days ago. Just 36 years old, the tattoos lining his oversized body paid homage to his American Samoan roots and made him one of the most recognisable wrestlers in the world. His wife had discovered him hours earlier, lying unconscious with blood seeping from his nose, and having been linked to steroid use throughout his professional career, his death, while shocking, was hardly a surprise. Unfortunately, this is around the age wrestlers seem to check out now.


Umaga was the second World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE) alumnus to die in just eight months. Andrew 'Test' Martin was 33 years old when neighbours found him lying dead in his Florida home last March. That both men were no longer employed by the WWE at the time of their passing has allowed the biggest brand in wrestling to distance itself from the tragedies. But no amount of spin or politicking can dilute the fact that WWE stars, past and present, have been dying prematurely at an alarming rate over the past decade or so. And in often grotesque circumstances too.


Barely two years have passed since Chris Benoit killed his wife and son before hanging himself using a weights pulley at his home in Georgia. At that time, Benoit was one of the most popular figures in the industry (it hardly deserves to be called a sport), and the autopsy showed his blood was coursing with steroids and other drugs when he committed the murders. Benoit's personal doctor was later convicted on 175 counts of illegal prescriptions but the WWE, well, its only inconvenience was having to replace a scheduled show with a ratings-grabbing Benoit tribute programme.


To those not in the know, the WWE is far removed from the camp, pantomime antics of Big Daddy lumbering after Giant Haystacks on more innocent Saturday afternoons so long ago. It's not even the cartoonish Hulk Hogan taking down the lumbering Andre the Giant two decades since. The brand of high-octane wrestling currently warping the minds of innocents from Texas to Tallaght, and recently selling out the O2 in Dublin, is a far more sinister affair, offering a steady cocktail of gratuitous (if largely pretend) violence, women with unfeasibly pneumatic cleavage, and storylines that border on the pornographic.


It's not only the décolletage of the female performers, who by some dint of peculiar circumstance regularly end up having their clothes ripped off in the ring, that comes inflated either. Almost every male wrestler sports exaggerated thighs, swollen pecs, and distorted biceps. They possess the sort of eye-popping body shapes and grossly-enlarged muscles that are only achievable through many years in the gym and many cycles of performance-enhancing drugs. The only problem with this deal is the downside. Every year, more and more of them are discovering that ingesting too many of these chemicals comes with an often fatal price.


Two years before Benoit's homicidal rampage, his best friend Eddie Guerrero died of heart failure at 38. Guerrero had earlier given up steroids but it was already too late. The drugs had taken their toll on his heart just like they did on Brian Pillman (35), Ravishing Rick Rude (41), Louie 'Rad Radford' Spicolli (27), Davey Boy Smith (39), Curt 'Mr Perfect' Hennig (44), and Road Warrior Hawk (45). In just over a decade, almost a dozen superstars of the genre have all suffered the same fate for much the same reasons – steroid-related health complications.


Against that depressing background, and in the wake of Umaga becoming the latest victim, it seems ridiculous that among the busiest aisles in any Irish toy store this next couple of weeks will be the one containing WWE action figures. On Christmas morning, kids will be delightedly hurtling these plastic versions of their heroes (notable for always wearing a grimace) around the replica rings that will also sell by the bucketload. It may be the only present given that celebrates something that is becoming increasingly indefensible even as a slice of light entertainment. Where else are the central characters dying at the rate of one a year?


The worst part about the whole business is that the death of Umaga barely raised a murmur beyond a few wrestling websites. It was largely ignored by the mainstream media because this is how wrestlers are expected to die these days. Once the WWE put out a statement saying it had released Umaga from his contract earlier this year because he failed a drug test and refused to enter a company-ordered rehab, it seemed like a cut and dried case. The WWE had tried to help him but here was one more wrestler who couldn't let go of the substances that fuelled his rise to glory in the first place.


Of course, it's much more complex than that. Firstly, the WWE has only taken steroid use seriously since 2006 when it suddenly became zealous about the topic after the all-powerful Houses of Congress in Washington began to focus in on the rising death toll of superstars. Secondly, a government investigation into how the WWE conducts dope testing seemed to indicate much of what they do is cosmetic. Apart from imposing way too-lenient penalties, it tends to catch wrestlers for smoking marijuana while not even testing for some of the more popular anabolics.


"Since the committee began its investigation last year, both the WWE and the TNA [its rival, Total Non-stop Action] have made efforts to improve their steroid testing programmes," wrote Henry Waxman, Democratic congressman and chairman of the Committee on Oversight and Government Reform last January "But these efforts suffer from a lack of independence and transparency. As a result of these weaknesses, the organisations appear unable to effectively prevent the use of steroids and other illegal drugs by professional wrestlers. Over three million children and teenagers watch professional wrestling each week. The apparently widespread use of steroids in professional wrestling sends the wrong message to youth."


The message that has been sent by the WWE for the past quarter of a century is a simple one. If you get big enough, by whatever means possible, you too can make it to the highest level and become a television icon. Who doesn't want to end up as an action figure on some kid's bedroom shelf?


Critics argue that the entire business is founded on an unspoken tolerance of drug-taking. Individuals must take steroids to become the muscle-bound warriors that are the archetype in the 21st-century WWE. Once they make it to the top then, they are expected to work nearly 300 shows a year. Even if the outcome of the contests is scripted and the moves choreographed, these are still physically demanding encounters involving increasingly more athletic stunts. A punishing schedule yields a lot of bumps and bruises and leads to an inevitable dependency on painkillers. To counteract the sleepiness of those pills, they must take uppers to get the adrenalin pumping. The cycle is never-ending.


"Unlike football or baseball or basketball, where steroids can actually enhance performance, they do nothing to enhance performance in WWE," said Linda McMahon, former CEO of the WWE and matriarch of the family that runs the company. Her husband Vince is the chairman, and her daughter Stephanie and son Shane have both had key roles in the dynasty in recent years. Her rather ludicrous attempt to downplay the drug problem is not surprising. She's currently campaigning to be the next US senator from Connecticut, a political ambition that is also reckoned to be the cause for the WWE lately toning down the number of so-called 'bra and panty' matches between female wrestlers.


"She may look like a Sunday school teacher," said retired WWE performer Superstar Billy Graham. "But Linda McMahon's hands are as bloody as her husband's because she is aware of every move in the ring. She has no problem with grown men – myself included – cutting their heads with a razor blade. All of a sudden, why aren't these guys bleeding anymore? Because Linda is running for the Senate."


Like so many of the former legends, Graham has now confessed to using steroids for 25 years to stay at the top of the sport. He and a host of others are speaking out against the McMahons as they watch them use the WWE millions to fund Linda's bid for Washington.


As was so lyrically and brutally depicted in Mickey Rourke's movie, The Wrestler, last year, the protagonists very often get chewed up and spat out at the end of their careers. If they don't die early, they end up having to struggle for the rest of their lives with failing bodies and no health insurance.


Umaga was one of the uninsured and, consequently, his extended family is currently pulling together the money to pay for his hospital bills and for the cost of his funeral. One more casualty of this awful industry. Chewed up and spat out.