Washington ? Everyone here was sorry to learn that Jesse Ventura will not seek a second term as governor of Minnesota. Of course, he has until the middle of next month to change his mind; and if there weren’t the possibility of filing at the deadline, and confounding everyone, he wouldn’t be Jesse Ventura. But I suspect that, as usual, he means what he says.

I confess that, reading about his impending retirement, I felt a mild impulse toward self-promotion. According to The New York Times, the election of the onetime-wrestler-turned-populist-politician “stunned the punditocracy” in 1998.

Well, not quite everyone. Rooting around in the archives the other morning, I found one of my own columns, published on Oct. 25, 1998 (“An amiable monster in Minnesota”) reporting on a televised gubernatorial campaign debate in Minnesota. The Democratic candidate, state Atty. Gen. Hubert Humphrey III, had insisted on including Ventura in the debates with St. Paul Mayor Norm Coleman, the Republican candidate, because (a) he assumed Ventura hadn’t a prayer, and (b) any votes that Ventura gained would come at Coleman’s expense.

“Skip Humphrey, however, failed to reckon with two things,” I wrote. “The first was (that) while Jesse ‘The Body’ Ventura was (and is) what we call a colorful figure, he is also a Navy SEAL veteran of Vietnam, a successful businessman and radio talk-show host, and the father of two photogenic children who attend public schools. Second, he has proved to be a natural campaigner. … Far from being the circus freak that Skip Humphrey was expecting, Jesse Ventura came across as a friendly, earnest, plain-spoken, well-informed Average Joe. While Skip Humphrey spoke in poll-certified buzz phrases, Jesse Ventura looked straight into the camera and gave (seemingly) candid responses.

“Far from serving as a pawn to divert Republican votes, ‘The Body’ has impressed Minnesotans as a plausible public servant. … Mr. Ventura’s appeal has as much to do with what he says as how he says it. His libertarian message of fiscal conservatism and social tolerance resonates in a state that has three times elected the incumbent, moderate Republican Gov. Arne Carlson. Moreover, Ventura’s plain declarations, his directness and verbal dexterity, are appealing when compared with Skip Humphrey’s chronic evasiveness.”

To be sure, my emphasis was on Humphrey’s deficiencies as much as Ventura’s qualities; but having been wrong on more than one occasion, it is comforting to recall one prognosis.

Yet it must be admitted, in retrospect, that there was less to Jesse Ventura than met the eye. Strictly speaking, he fulfilled his early promise. He populated his Cabinet with worthy individuals, preached the gospel of good government, and delivered the modest tax rebates he had pledged to enact. And for the first two years or so, he was wildly popular. But familiarity, and a mild recession, took their toll. By the end of his term, Gov. Ventura was proposing tax increases to cover deficits something he had said he would never do and feuding perpetually with the Legislature, which overrode an unprecedented 12 vetoes.

Ventura’s plain speaking soon grew wearisome, and needlessly offensive. He referred to religion as “a crutch for weak-minded people,” and was the only governor out of 50 to refuse to sign a proclamation for a national day of prayer. He compelled the statehouse press corps to wear badges identifying them as “professional jackals” an extraordinarily juvenile gesture.

And his sources of outside income lacked charm: He published a couple of ghostwritten books about himself, and served as an announcer for the vulgar (and soon defunct) XFL football network. In the end, when a newspaper reported that one of his “two photogenic children who attend public schools” had been trashing the governor’s mansion with hard-partying friends, Ventura decided, somewhat implausibly, that it was time to reclaim his privacy.

My suspicion is that, just as Minnesotans had grown weary of the governor, the governor had long since lost interest in public service. This is a common occurrence: Unconventional people who ride into office on waves of indignation soon find that the thrill of notoriety eventually fades, and that the people’s business is a never-ending grind. There is nothing like a monumental budget fight, or legislative impasse, to remind the rest of us why politics is probably best left to politicians. Few are as pungent as any ex-professional wrestler, and their carefully crafted phrases tend to be lighter than air. But the tedium of government the deals, the fine print, the endless yak about money is their lifeblood, and most would swallow arsenic before serving as announcers for the XFL.

Philip Terzian is the associate editor of the Providence Journal.