Put a Lid on it: Favoritism from the UFC Broadcasting Booth

This article was written in the days following UFC 100, and was originally published on Nokaut.com

This past Saturday Joe Rogan once again demonstrated both his enthusiasm for mixed martial arts and his bad habit of making hyperbolic, biased declarations.

Joe Rogan is a true asset to the UFC and mixed martial arts generally. He brings a definite, infectious excitement to his broadcasts, and his effortless knowledge of the sport's history, composite disciplines, and fighters is impressive. Yet it is this close, personal relationship he has with the world of MMA that seems to be at the heart of a mounting problem. That is, Rogan's increasingly uninhibited partiality while calling action from the broadcast booth and while conducting post-fight interviews.

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During the UFC 100 broadcast Joe Rogan waxed horrified at the judges' decision ruling Yoshihiro Akiyama the winner over Alan Belcher. As an exhausted Akiyama celebrated, Rogan turned his indignation up to 11 and announced "Alan Belcher knows he got robbed." Such a statement is problematic for several reasons. Most obviously because it assumes that Belcher was, in fact, robbed.

It’s important to be clear. Alan Belcher was not "robbed" in his decision loss. It was a close, competitive, and exciting fight. But before anyone takes Rogan's cue, they should consider: to say Alan Belcher was robbed is to say that in no way, in any reasonable person's mind, should Akiyama have been seen as the victor. To say Belcher was robbed is to claim, essentially, that the fight wasn't even close. Yet, a look at play-by-plays running on three MMA websites proves contrary. Our very own Nokaut.com saw the fight in Belcher's favor, and MMAJunkie and Sherdog.com saw Akiyama as the bout's winner. While this speaks to the extremely narrow margin by which Akiyama won (a fact Akiyama himself seemed to realize given his apparent sense of relief), it also indicates that, as much as the fight could have gone to Belcher, more times than not it would end with Akiyama's hand being raised.

Furthermore, if Rogan was to play back the third round of this fight, he would hear himself commenting that Akiyama, having just taken Belcher down, was scoring points with the judges, and that Belcher needed to get back to his feet, urgently so, in an effort to take the round, if not finish Akiyama in the closing minutes. Why would this even be an issue if Belcher had, to that point, won the fight to such a degree that any conflicting judge's verdict would be called a robbery? In the end, even Rogan's own immediate (and in this way perhaps more honest) assessment of the fight contradicted a subsequent incredulity that, in this light, can only be seen as fueled by favoritism.

Of course, these are easy points to make in retrospect. At the time, on a live broadcast, Rogan couldn't have known what the general consensus was and, once properly contextualized, how little the decision warranted such outrage. However, what he should have realized, as both a long-time fan and someone working within the industry, is the fallibility of his own eyes when evaluating a fight; with this in mind he might have withheld such a definitive, public assertion until he gave himself time to reflect and become better informed. This might seem like a lot to ask of someone so engrossed by the sport as Joe Rogan but, as he is a professional, it's not unwarranted.

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Joe Rogan's vocal yet unfounded disgust following the Akiyama-Belcher decision wouldn't be such a problem if it weren't indicative of a larger trend. As Rogan has become a fixture within the UFC, he has seemed less concerned with providing an apparently unbiased point of view, all the while relying more and more confidently on his gut feelings, his heart, and his personal preferences when qualifying the action inside the Octagon. Long time fans of MMA might claim that they have always detected a tendency towards favoritism in Joe Rogan. To whatever extent this has been true, it has become all the more pronounced in the last nine to twelve months—a fact that is often obscured by his usual perceptiveness and also by partner Mike Goldberg's more persistent towing of the company line. Yet whereas Goldberg can be excused for being occasionally off the mark on account of naiveté and professional obligation (he is paid to push the UFC brand, after all), Rogan, as a student of the game with a wider range of expression, ought to know better.

Note first the fight between Dong Hyun Kim and Matt Brown at UFC 88. Kim was awarded a split-decision victory following a third round in which neither exhausted fighter was able to deliver an emphatic conclusion. Across the 15 minutes of the fight, however, Joe Rogan couldn't help but enthuse over Matt Brown's notorious grit and dubious in-fight effectiveness. His affinity for Brown reached a fever pitch when, during the post fight interviews, Rogan actually came out and told Brown that he felt he’d won the fight. One may appreciate the emotional investment that would lead to such an outpouring, but the fact remains: with Dong Hyun Kim (who, frankly, worked his ass off) and a large attending audience still present, such an assertion was hugely disrespectful to the Korean fighter and his camp.

Kim had the misfortune of fighting another of Rogan's favorites in Karo Parisyan a few months later, at UFC 94. With both fighters on the ground, Kim worked for an ankle lock. Parisyan, in an attempt to escape, haphazardly kicked Kim in the head. The illegal move was caught by the referee, Parisyan was officially warned, and the fight was restarted. Rogan admonished the break in action, however, and feebly contended that what Parisyan leveled at Kim's head was more of a "shove" than a kick. It's troubling that Rogan would debate an issue of fighter safety on the mere basis of semantics, and yet more troubling since it was in the service of a fighter for whom Rogan has had an admitted fondness; since Parisyan's early days in the UFC Rogan has sung his praises. In this case, though, Rogan's hero-worship consequently belittled Kim's own right to a fair fight.

Shots to the back of the head go unremarked. A stalemate on the ground is seen instead as a tactical advantage that must remain uninterrupted (or vice-versa, depending on who's landed on top, figuratively speaking). These episodes are small, but nevertheless threaten to compromise what has, to date, been otherwise admirable commentating.

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Let's keep things in perspective. I only dissect Joe Rogan’s work as an announcer because he is an integral member of the mixed martial arts community. He's worth discussing. What's more, I would never go so far as to say that Rogan's partiality is "bad for the sport." This is a concept that gets tossed around far too much in an attempt to lend moral gravity to some issue that only a lunatic fringe really agonizes over (that drawing of a penis on Brock Lesnar's chest is bad for the sport; Dana White's Hot Topic wardrobe is bad for the sport; Kimbo Slice's asymmetrical chest hair is bad for the sport; photos of a bloated Chuck Liddell with no damn shirt on are bad for the sport). In fact, if anything, Joe Rogan is good for MMA--he's articulate, likable, and is trusted by probably thousands of spectators. This last point, though, is why it's important that he become a little more measured in what he says. There are a great many MMA fans, eagerly looking forward to his next comedy special (something like "Screaming Bearded Man with a Passion for Space-Faring Mammals") that readily hang their opinions about MMA on Joe Rogan's own. So, while the fate of mixed martial arts doesn't necessarily rest in Rogan's wildly gesticulating hands, it might be nice if he were to encourage a more thoughtful, fair-minded audience.

And if Joe Rogan doesn’t address the issue, then at least those watching the UFC must acknowledge that there is a problem. No hateful oaths over the internet are necessary. Just please take what the guy says with a grain of salt.

Virtually Some Tyrant: Dana White Clarifies, Lionizes Reaction to EA Games

This is an unpublished follow-up I wrote to "Virtual Chokehold." Unfortunately, I think it may have been deemed too biased against the UFC.

During the UFC 100 post-fight press conference Dana White was asked to clarify his warning to fighters and managers. To whit, any fighter that sells their likeness for the EA MMA video game would be banned from the UFC.

"Sounds like me. Sounds like something that I would say," admitted White. Referring to his initial negotiations to make a UFC video game, he continued, "I went to EA sports. Know what EA Sports said? 'It's not a sport. This isn't a sport. We would never get involved in something like this.' [Expletive] them." Dana White went on to liken the fighters affected by his resulting policy as "casualties" in a war.

Just so we're all on the same page, Dana White is basically saying that the people at EA Sports said something mean to him, which made the UFC president feel bad. Now fighters around the world are expected to forego a savings account for their family or an extra payment on a home as a show of support for Dana White, the tough guy millionaire with the hurt feelings. To call this childish is an understatement.

In telling his story, Dana White seems to think that he will somehow rally a legion of indignant MMA fans and fighters against EA Games. White's self-aggrandizement has reached the point where he believes this petty, spiteful action of his amounts to a righteous act of war. At stake is the honor of our poor, maligned sport. He is the general. The fighters are so many grunts in a trench war; their financial security and the food in their families' mouths become collateral damage, regrettable but wholly acceptable under the possessive gaze of Dana White.

All fighters, from Fedor Emelianenko to Olaf Alfonso, should be outraged. Joe Rogan and Mike Goldberg should be outraged. Monte Cox and Ken Pavia should be outraged. Greg Jackson, Ricardo Liborio, John Hackleman, and Pat Miletich should be outraged. Most importantly, any thinking, feeling fan of MMA worth his or her weight in salt should be outraged. There's a virulent strain of Dana White apologists out there, infatuated with his roughneck aesthetic and televised antics, but they need to wise up. Just because a carpenter builds you a house doesn't mean he can walk in and shit wherever he wants. Dana White worked very hard to help usher in this modern era of MMA. It doesn't give him carte blanche to act like some boardroom thug, playing out his adolescent power fantasies on the world of mixed martial arts.

Virtual Chokehold: EA Games, the UFC, and Dana White’s Warning to the World of MMA

To summarize: Dana White has put out the word, which was confirmed in a forum post by MMA agent Ken Pavia, that any fighter who signs on to have their likeness featured in Electronic Arts' upcoming MMA video game (a future competitor to developer THQ' s UFC video game) will be placed on the UFC's blacklist. Appear in the video game, and you will literally never fight in the UFC.

It's hard to speak in any definitive or constructive way on the ethical content of such a mandate. One could argue for days about whether or not this is fair; whether or not fairness (as most people understand it) has any place in this business; to what extent the fighters themselves, in responding to such tactics, would themselves be culpable in their own misery. And of course, the absolute, unconditional nature of White's threat is a little hard to swallow. Should we really believe that if Fedor Emelianenko rang the UFC's doorbell, a signed contract in hand, the day following his debut appearance in EA's video game, that he wouldn't be brought on board? It's doubtful.

What is clear, however, is Dana White's immediate sincerity on the matter. Exceptions aside, the UFC president meant what he said, and it fits with the UFC's emergent modus operandi (formed around such a strong arm as only a boxercise instructor could have). Given this, we have to both admit the threat's significance and examine its potency.

Does Japan want the UFC?

Takanori Gomi is a star. Norifumi Yamamoto is a star. So are Kazushi Sakuraba, Ikuhisa Minowa, and American Jason Miller. None of them needed the UFC to reach the height of popularity, if not rankings, among Japanese MMA fans. Indeed, dating back to the UFC's Ultimate Japan 1 in 1997, it seems that the Ultimate Fighting Championship has always needed Japanese fighters as a means of success overseas more than any fighter from Takada Dojo ever needed the UFC. And while PRIDE is dead and gone, the rise of both DREAM and Sengoku provide for a persistent status quo. It’s hard to imagine that any popular fighter in Japan is particularly shaken at the thought of being banned from fighting in front of a booing American crowd.

Yet, for the best of fighters, being a star won't always be enough. Being the best is the only thing that will do, and in a country like Japan where matchmakers from hell are busy cooking up a fight between a kickboxing champion suffering from gigantism and a retired baseball player, truly testing oneself becomes a dubious proposition. This is where the UFC has an advantage.

Some will always view The Ultimate Fighter as a shameful spectacle, but this pales in comparison to a fight between a pro-wrestler dressed as a comic book character fighting a 320-pound spokesman for Panasonic televisions. Brock Lesnar aside, contenders in the UFC almost always follow a coherent rise to title contention, and the UFC has never in this modern era put a fight together based solely on the idea of a mismatch. The same cannot be said for the much-missed PRIDE FC, or K-1 Hero's or DREAM. A spot in the open-weight DREAM "Superhulk" tournament (where little guys fight big guys!) or a run at Anderson Silva's middleweight title? For the legacy-minded fighter this is not a hard choice. Yoshihiro Akiyama made this choice when he signed with the UFC. Olympic judoka turned sought-after MMA prospect Satoshi Ishii almost did the same before opting to gain experience in Japan before a stateside jump. Might this be indicative of a larger shift in opinion among the Japanese mixed martial arts community? While one can establish super-stardom in a Japanese promotion like DREAM, has the UFC, due to more consistent and productive matchmaking, become the place to test one's mettle at its peak? Dana White, in making such an unqualified threat, seems to be betting yes, but perhaps too soon.

Consider first that with the buyout and dissolution of PRIDE FC, a line was drawn in the sand. On the one end fell those who chose to migrate to the UFC, either for an extended stay (like Shogun Rua) or an abbreviated sort of investigation (like Akihiro Gono). On the other side were those who decided to stick it out in Japan, either in DREAM or in the fledgling Sengoku. If this latter group, comprised of fighters like Takanori Gomi, Josh Barnett, and Tatsuya Kawajiri, weren't too concerned with signing on with the UFC at the height of their overseas mystique, it's unlikely that they would be particularly concerned about it now. And with fighters like the aforementioned Gono moving back into more familiar territory, it's likely that most of the Japanese mainstays will remain just that.

What's more, it seems like there just might be a place for competition-minded fighters like Akiyama as well. Sengoku representative Takahiro Kokuho, in a May 2009 interview, acknowledged the problematic relationship that Japanese MMA culture has had with spectacle-driven events. "For us, Sengoku is a competition. We want it to be a real sport. We want to find out who really is the strongest...." Kokuho went on to say, "We won't be doing things like Bob Sapp-Kinniku Mantaro." If Sengoku's surprisingly sober, competitive tournaments are any indication, then fighters like Akiyama might not have to look to the UFC for more consistent matchmaking.

In the end, Dana White's harsh words may be landing on deaf ears across the Pacific.

Do North American fighters need the UFC?

Basically no. Or at least not for long. While it's true that the UFC currently has a stranglehold on mainstream popularity, key events in the past nine months point toward a change in the MMA landscape. Most significantly, the growth of Strikeforce.

Under staid management Strikeforce has seen steady growth to the point of landing a deal with television network CBS. It's home to MMA stars Gina Carano and Cung Le, and highly esteemed fighters like Jake Shields and Renato Sobral. A healthy collaboration with the money-burning promotion Affliction has managed to keep Strikeforce's growing roster in competitive fights, and its less-stringent contractual policies have seen international stars like Kazuo Misaki pop in to lend some gravitas to their fight cards.

Bearing all this in mind, one might envision a time when an eminent talent might opt out of playing hardball with Dana White in favor of a deal with EA Games and a spot on a CBS-broadcast Strikeforce event. And while Strikeforce could go belly-up before any of this comes to pass, the promotion's sensible rate of expansion and spending definitely separates it from burnouts like the WFA in 2006, the IFL in 2008, and perhaps Affliction in the coming year.

If Strikeforce's momentum continues, it could be little more than a year or two before fighter's can tune-out Dana White's unconditional demands.

Is Dana White pissing in the wind?

The efficacy of Dana White's threats to all UFC hopefuls, now and forever, depends largely on the fighters and their managers. Certainly the near future will see upcoming fighters for whom the UFC still holds a special aura, yet the MMA world seems to be changing—for every TUF hopeful there is a Robbie Lawler making it work outside of the trademarked Octagon.

If fighters recognize Strikeforce or Sengoku’s increasing significance they might, provided the fighter is able and willing to put time into a still-developing promotion, forego dignifying Dana White's strong-arm tactics. Only a couple years ago this would have been unthinkable, but with the growth of Strikeforce, Sengoku, and DREAM, combined with the increasingly vocal dissatisfaction of fighters and managers alike, Dana White may finally be overestimating his hold on the world of MMA.

This article was originally published by Nokaut.com on July 6, 2009

Now on Nokaut.com

Hello folks. A quick note to say that I'll now be writing a weekly column for Nokaut.com. Hope you don't hate them!

I'll continue posting brief articles to this site, the ones with all the swears n cusses, for any interested parties.

They'll do it Every Time

Boxing writers can't seem to get enough of talking in circles about mixed martial arts.

Couched in a lengthy article disparaging boxing prospect Victor Ortiz's decision to quit mid-fight, boxing writer Ron Borges ridiculed mixed martial artists for their being "allowed to quit without recrimination by using a more sanitized phrase...in MMA they say he tapped out." Borges asserted that this fact "is what separates real fighters from those guys in MMA...."

This is a strange thing to write for a couple of reasons.

First, of course, is the fact that the biggest argument against MMA (deeply flawed as it may be) has been that the sport is too dangerous. Critics feel that, compared to the large gloves and limited offensive arsenal available in boxing, the cut-inducing elbow strikes, small gloves, and myriad offensive positions in MMA are likely to end in some fatality or horrific injury. This historically and statistically unfounded opinion has been repeated often by boxing-only supporters (I won't say supports of boxing, since I myself am for boxing as well as for mixed martial arts). Critics of MMA scoff and shake a finger at what they perceive to be inhuman, unsportsmanlike brutality. It's not hard to see, then, why some might be confused when reading of Borges' indignation at Ortiz's unwillingness "to go out on his shield," which is itself, ironically, a "sanitized phrase" for dying.

Borges' unsatisfied bloodlust is all the more surprising when he goes on to admit that one of Ortiz's eyes had been "badly sliced" and the other was developing "a huge contusion." Later, after dismissing Ortiz as a simply a quitter, he attempts to sympathize with the up-and-coming fighter. "The sad fact is [he] had bee beaten on since he was a little boy...by his father...by his mother [...] You try that and see how many more beatings you want to take..." It would be one thing if Borges were railing against Ortiz in a state of sheer ignorance, but that he was able to even begin to envision the psychological and physical turmoil Ortiz must have been in before he quit, and at the same time lambaste him as he did, is disgusting.

Aside from being this week's biggest keyboard warrior, Borges also manages to demonstrate that he's not very good at thinking things through during his brief, but potently idiotic criticism of MMA.

It's obvious, of course, that he doesn't know much about the sport and its surrounding culture, or he would be aware of the fans harsh criticism of anyone who appears to tap or fold too early. Kalib Starnes was cut from the UFC for a reason, and Dana White and company were hesitant to offer the evasive Lyoto Machida any marquee fights until he began to show a greater willingness to engage (which reminds me, I wonder why Borges, in his desire for relentless bloodshed, didn't take a moment to wag a finger at the defensively-minded Floyd Mayweather, Jr.).

And of course, in so adamantly asserting the superiority of a boxer's fighting spirit, he failed to consider the most obvious counter argument. A mixed martial arts writer (were one to be as apparently dense as he) could argue that boxers aren't "real fighters" because they are allowed a chance to stand up and recompose themselves following a knockdown, or because they are permitted a limited arsenal that has been far abstracted from actual fighting.

Borges may be a excellent sports writer on the whole (his profile on thesweetscience.com certainly says so) but his inability to more comprehensively conceive of the issue in this instance is a little embarrassing, and only serves to illustrate that boxing-only critics of MMA are a confused bunch, who can't consistently articulate why they don't like MMA probably because they don't want to admit the real reason: boxing, archaic as it may be, is a fine sport, but is giving up popularity, money, and cultural significance to mixed martial arts.

The Case Against Mixed Martial Arts

Critics of MMA, and proponents of boxing particularly, have often asserted that mixed martial artists are nothing more than a bunch of thugs flailing away at each other in the cage. People like Floyd Mayweather, Jr. believe that while it takes years of intense training and attentive coaching for a boxer to rise to prominence, any tough guy can walk in off the street and become a mixed martial arts champion.

With the increase in cross over athletes, including retired and one-time prospects from the world of pro-wrestling, football, and boxing, MMA is every day closer to definitively answering such skeptics. And while anyone can point to Anderson Silva's artful in-cage performances, or the personable, athletic Georges St. Pierre as examples of MMA's worth to the world of sports, anyone intending to be truly prepared for a debate must instead anticipate their opponents' arguments.

With that in mind, here are four recent fights that serve as a black eye on the face of mixed martial arts.

4. Andrei Arlovksi vs. Fedor Emelianenko

Following an extensive, boxing-centric training camp under Freddie Roach, Arlovski used pin-point punching and fleet footwork to stagger Emelianenko. Driving his opponent into a corner, Arlovski seemed poised to knock out Emelianenko until, following a sloppy jumping knee, he was countered and sent unconscious to the mat. Had Arlovski stuck to straight boxing, he very well may have knocked out the consensus number 1 heavyweight mixed martial artist in the world.

Rebuttal: Coulda shoulda woulda. The fact remains that Emelianenko beat Arlovski, despite the Belarusian contender's extensive training camp with Roach. But if one was truly dedicated to dealing in hypotheticals, then we might as well consider the likely scenario that Emelianenko, rather than sticking it out on the feet, would have easily taken Arlovski to the ground and submitted him (a likely eventuality given Arlovski's boxing-induced tunnel vision). Regarding events as they actually transpired, one might recall that Emelianenko has been in tight spots before (in fights with Kazuyuki Fujita, Kevin Randelman, Mark Hunt, and Mirko Filipovic) and his unconventional striking, grappling acumen, and formidable instincts have always seen him through. Boxing wasn't the first technique to threaten Emelianenko, nor was it enough to close the deal in the end.

3. Brock Lesnar vs. Heath Herring

Carrying a slight professional record of 1-1-0 into the cage with him, former pro-wrestler Brock Lesnar was nevertheless able to thrash former PRIDE heavyweight contender Heath Herring for 3 straight rounds.

Rebuttal: Lesnar is more than just an entertainment wrestler who stumbled into the UFC. Far from simply changing gears one day from turnbuckle acrobatics to in-cage fisticuffs, Lesnar underwent a full year of intensive training with both Royce Gracie and the respectable Minnesota Mixed Martial Arts camp. Combined with his almost peerless collegiate wrestling pedigree and well of raw physical power, and a victory for Lesnar over the wrestling-prone Heath Herring, whose ring age is starting to show through his otherwise tough hide, is not as unusual as it may have seemed at first.

2. Joe Warren vs. Norifumi Yamamoto

With a record of only 1-0-0, Warren was expected by most to fall easily to the DREAM tournament favorite Yamamoto, who carried an impressive record of 17-1-0 into the fight. Instead, Warren brutalized Yamamoto at range, in the clinch, and on the ground en route to a clear cut decision victory.

Rebuttal: Warren was an Olympic wrestling candidate before his hopes were dashed following a positive drug test. Bear in mind that such high level wrestling is a skill that gives any MMA neophyte an edge, even in such a high-profile fight, provided that it is fused with the nerve and chin to mix it up on the feet--something that a lengthy training camp with Dan Henderson's Team Quest would certainly provide. Combined with the fact that Yamamoto was coming off of a year-and-a-half lay off following extensive surgery, and, in hindsight, Warren's victory isn't as shocking, or ridiculous, as it may have appeared

1. Ray Mercer vs. Tim Sylvia

Faded boxing star Ray Mercer, in his pro-debut following a loss in an exhibition match to Kimbo Slice, knocked out former UFC champion and top 10 ranked heavyweight Tim Sylvia.

Rebuttal: If we're being honest, Tim Sylvia, despite being a ranked mixed martial artist, is essentially a kick boxer with an eye for exploiting his size and reach. It's no surprise, then, that he was bested at his own game by a more accomplished striker. It's safe to say that fighters like Sylvia, with a limited skill set and an antiquated "stand-and-trade" approach, are fast becoming outdated, and are hardly representative of mixed martial arts as they exist today.

DREAM 9 Play-by-Play

The next round of the DREAM featherweight tournament continues at 4:00 a.m. Central American, plus the opening round of the all important "Super Hulk Tournament."

Ikuhisa Minowa vs. Bob Sapp

Round 1.
Sapp curiously shoots for the takedown. Successful, he works for a straight arm bar, a kimura. Minowa is sweeping. Sapp manages some shots to the head before flopping to his back. With Minowa now in Sapp's guard, the outcome seems ienvitable. Sure enough, Minowa by Achilles lock.

Minowa, Achilles Lock, Round 1.

Jose Canseco vs. Hong Man Choi

Round 1.
If having a self-trained, former baseball player fight a 7-foot-2 former K-1 champion is the biggest crime of the evening, Canseco's disturbingly tight jazz pants is the second biggest. Canseco has no cornermen, only his girlfriend. Insane. Canseco seems reasonably composed, clips Choi with an overhand right. Choi counters, brief clinch and a knee. Canseco is now visibly shaken. Canseco is on his bike. A round-house kick to Choi's side throws Canseco off balance, and the MLB whistle-blower falls to the ground. Choi capitalizes with some ground and pound before the referee steps in to save Canseco, who has begun to tap out.

Choi, TKO, round 1.

Rameau Thierry Sokoudjou vs. Jan Nortje

Round 1.
Sokodjou swings and clinches, drives Nortje into the ropes. He attempts a judo throw, but Nortje grabs the ropes. And again. Guy Mezger in the announcers' booth is furious, memories of sketkchy PRIDE officiating no doubt parading through his mind. The referee separates them, and Sokodjou works good kicks to the legs. Takedown by Sokodjou followed up with strikes, Nortje turtling up. The referee stops the fight, but Sokodjou continues to fire away. Nortje's corner storms the ring. Replays show that none of the later strikes really landed, but the poor sportsmanship from usually all-around nice guy Sokodjou is surprising. Sokodjou apologizes to Nortje.

Sokodjou, TKO, round 1.

Gegard Mousasi vs. Mark Hunt

Despite the disparity in weight, Mousasi has an apparent height and reach advantage of Hunt. Hunt stalks slowly around the ring, takedown by Mousasi. Mousasi traps one arm with his legs while working for a straight arm lock, a kimura on the other. Hunt looks to roll, but can't get off his back, and taps out.

Mousasi, kimura, round 1.


Gesias "JZ" Calvancanti vs. Tatsuya Kawajiri

Round 1.
Both fighters take the center of the ring immediately and begin to trade. Edge to JZ, landing clean hooks and crosses. Kawajiri shoots and Calvancanti sprawls well. Locked up against the ropes, JZ jumps for a guillotine. Kawajiri slips from guard, but JZ still has the choke locked in. Jumps to half guard. Kawajiri slips out, finally, settles on top of JZ in half guard.
Kawajiri working some ground and pound, looks to advance to mount, but JZ is tying him up well. Reset in the middle of the ring. JZ with an open guard. Kawajiri with some powerful ground and pound, JZ still lucid.
Kawajiri passes to side control, JZ regains full guard. Back on the feet briefly, but Kawajiri is absolutely smothering JZ, and plants him on his back again. More ground and pound from Kawajiri. Referee stands the up, yellow cards all around.
Both work jabs, miss wide with hooks. Kawajiri with a head kick, JZ witha good right to the jaw. JZ drives for a single leg, unsuccessfully, and they are now tied up against the ropes. Kawajiri working knees to the legs and body. REferee splist them up.
JZ with a good jab, Kawajiri with a clubbing left. Kawajiri looks exhausted, but his driving forward well. Strong uppercut from Kawajiri, drives for a takedown, and lands in JZ's guard. While JZ works the rubber guard, Kawajiri knees the body, finishes with some strong ground and pound. The marathon round was all Kawajiri.

In between rounds, DREAM announcer refers to Akiyama as Sexyama. Highlight of the evening, to be sure.
Last five minutes of the fight, JZ takes some shots to the face before Kawajiri drives for the takedown. JZ again with a guillotine choke, but it's loose. Kawajiri with more ground and pound from half guard. JZ rolls out, back to the feet. In the corner, knees to the body and legs by Kawajiri. The referee resets them in the center fo the ring. JZ works some good boxing, misses with a big overhand right. Kawajiri with awesome right straights, shoots in for a double leg, plants JZ on his back, advances to mount almost immediately. Ground and pound to JZ's dome before the referee restarts them at center. JZ regains half guard. 30 seconds left in the round, this fight was all Kawajiri. Kawajiri advances to side control, more ground and pound. JZ completely shut down by Kawajiri.

Kawajiri, decision, round 2.


Hideo Tokoro vs. Abel Cullum

Round 1.
Lunging rights from Cullum clip Tokoro on the chin. Good left from Tokoro, and a kick to the leg. Cullum has had enough of the standup, and puts Tokoro on his back with a sindobuble. Tokor pops back up, good kicks and punches, nails Cullum hard in the body with a kick. Cullum drives Tokto to the ground and Tokoro locks in a triangle choke. Real tight. Cullum holding on, but it looks like it could be over. Cullum slipping out, Tokoro tightens it up. Cullum slips out, amazing escape. Cullum with knees and punches to Tokoro's head. Tokoro reverses into side control, full mount. sloppy arm bar attempt, but Tokor manages to stay on top. Cullum on his knees, drvies into Tokor's guard. Shots to the body.Tokor threatens with a high guard. Cullum with punches to the head and body. Tokoro pops back up to the feet.
Cullum with a strong uppercut. Tokoro with a jab to the face. Cullum landing good shots to the body and head, puts Tokoro on his back. Tokoro again threatening with a high guard. Tokor sets up an omoplata fro the sweep, lands in Cullum's guard. Tokro advances to half guard, Cullum drops for a knee bar, a toe hold. Tokoro powers his way out with strikes. Cullum rolls or the leg again, but it's loose, Tokoro advances to side contorl, scramble, andt he pair are back otn eh feet. Cullum driving for the takedown, Tokoro hooks the ropes, Cullum picks Tokro up, puts him on the back, advances to hal guard. Tokoro rols to his stmach, Cullum tries to take the back but slips off. Tokoro in full mount, Cullum escapes. Tokoro, on his feet, performs a sliding knee into Cullum, but loses position in the scramble. Round ends with Cullum on top with ground and pound.

Round 2.
Both look remarkably fresh, scramble to the ground immediately. Tokoro gains mount, considers an armbar, but Cullum escapes. On his knees, Cullum drives forward. Tokoro seems to be slipping in a choke, looked tight, but Cullum drops to his side and out of the hold. Cullum looking worn out. The choke is back in. Cullum taps out. Incredible fight.

Tokoro, rear naked choke, round 1.


Hiroyuki Takaya vs. Yoshiro Maeda

Round 1.
Maeda and Takaya trade low kicks. Maeda catches a kick to the head and pushes Takaya to the ground. Maeda with some ground and pound from the half guard, works to pass. Takaya keeping him well tied up. They pop back to the feet. Maeda narrolwy misses with a big knee. The two paw with jabs, both miss with big hooks. They conintue to wing punches at each other in the center of the cage. Good combination by Maeda, Takaya comes back with one of his own. Maeda drives Takaya into the ropes, and then to the ground. Ground and pound from Maeda.
Maeda lands a couple powerful knees as Takaya works back to his feet. Some showmanship now from Maeda as they trade punches. Takaya is looking determined. Maeda's hands are now resting at his shoulders.
Maeda pushes for a takedown, and nearly sends the both of them through the ropes. The fight is stopped to check a cut over Takaya's left eye. They restart in the center of the ring, Maeda in mount. Takaya slips back to half guard. Maeda stands and dives back in with punches. Takaya tries to scramble up, but Maeda pushes him back, and the referee restarts them on the feet immediately after and gives Takaya an undeserved yellow card for holding.
Takaya crushes Maeda with a right straight. Maeda falls to the ground and Takaya capitalizes with ground and pound. Referee steps in.
Takaya and Maeda smile at each other, grateful for the brawl.

Takaya, TKO, round 1

Masakazu Imanari vs. Bibiano "Flash" Fernandes

Round 1.
Fernandes catches a high kick from Imanari and throws him to the ground. Imanari pops back up, continues to fire kicks. Fernandes with a takedown, and some strong ground and pound before Imanari goes for the leg lock. Fernandes explodes away, and they are back to their feet.
They paw with jabs. Takedown by Fernandes. Fernande stands up and kicks at Imanari's legsb before the ref stands them up. Imanari kicks Fernandes tot eh body, and tries to pull guard, but Fernandes shrugs him off. Low kick by Fernandes. Both are playing it very safe, sill feeling each other out.
Imanari again goes for a kick tohe body, Fernandes catches it and drives forward with a punch as he puts Imanari on his back. Leas out of the way of a leg lock, Fernandes kicks at Imanari's legs. Ref stands them up.
Imanari kicks, Fernandes punches, and Iamanri is to his back again. A pattern seems to be forming. Ref stands Imanari up. They feel each other out on the feet some more. Another kick, another takedown, and both are back on their feet. The referee restarts the fighters, scolding them for not engaging. Nevertheless, Imanari flops to his back and Fernandes fires leg kicks. Yellow cards to both fighters. Fernandes is skittish on the feet. Imanari with a flying knee that misses, and pulls Fernandes to the ground. Fernandes lands in side control, scores with knees to the head and body of Imanari. Fernandes holds the position as the round ends.

Round 2.
Round 2 starts with more of the same, kicks with Imanari landing on his back. Imanari actually takes a seat in the center of the ring. Back to his feet, he pulls guard, and Fernandes lands some punches before standing back up. Low kicks by Fernandes. Imanari feigns listlessness, keeping his hands at his sides. More low kicks by Fernandes, and he drives Imanari to the ground. Fernandes tries to pass. Imanari has a leg , but Fernandes explodes out. That may have been Iamanri's best chance at winning. Back on the feet Fernandes with a clubbing punch to the side of Imanari's head, who closes the distance into double under hooks. He flops to his back, and the ref stands them up, gives Fernandes a yellow card for some reason. They trade punches, end up briefly on the ground and then on the feet. With 20 seconds left, Imanari jumps for a leg lock once, twice. The round ends. Looks like Fernandes by decision.

Fernandes, decision, round 2

Norifumi "Kid" Yamamoto vs. Joe Warren

Round 1.
Kid tries to embrace Warren as the ref brings them to the center of the ring. The fight started, they trade kicks to the bod. Kid holds in the center of the ring, Warren shoots, Kid sprawls and they clinch. warren landing strikes well inside the clinch, knees and uppercuts. Kid shoots but Warren sprawls. Warren throws kid to his back. Warren working in Kid's guard with punches and knees to the back. Kid maintains a high guard and ties up Warren's hands. Warren slams out and puts some more ground and pound on Kid, but nothing significant. A cut on the bridge of Kid's nose gets checked. Ref issues yellow cards to both fighters. Restart on the feet.
Kid fires front kicks and ajab at Warren. Open palm strike slows Warren down. Clinch against the ropes, knees from Kid. Another strong right from Kid. Warren showing a good chin as he moves forward with clear eyes. Kid ties him up against the ropes and knees tot eh body. They trade body kicks, Warren shoots for a takedown but is shrugged off. Another hard short right by Kid, he's starting to find his stride. Warren shoots again, fails, clinches lands some decent knees. Some good punches, too.
Strong kicks to the leg and body from Kid. From good work from Warren in the clinch, a front kick. Warren puts Kid on his back, works ground and pound, and ends the round in Kid's guard. Impressive performance from Warren so far.

Round 2.
Warren muscles Kid around to start the second. Some kicks from Kid to the legs and body. Big left, and another to Warren's jaw. Fantastic chin, but Warren is looking suddenly tired. Clinches Kid against the ropes, puts him on his back. They restart in the center of the ring, Warren in Kid's guard. With three minutes left, Kid is losing this fight. Rolls for an arm bar, gives it up for some reason, back to guard. Ref stands them up. Kid clips Warren with a right, eliciting a grin from Warren. They trade punches and Warren again shoots, doesn't get it. Kid findhing his stride again, but maybe too late. A minute left, Warren clinches against the ropes, muscles Kid around. Knees tot ehbody. Another takedown, half guard. Ground and pound with 20 seconds left. Joe Warren is going to beat Norifumi Yamamoto. Kid rolls for a last minute arm bar, but loses it. The fight's over. Incredible performance by Joe Warren.

Warren, split decision, round 2
It's amazing that any judge could have seen it for Yamamoto at all.

Ronaldo "Jacare" Souza vs. Jason "Mayhem" Miller

A montage of Jacare and Mayhem's antics, both in and out of the ring, is playing. Dance moves abound. The producers have dubbed this fight "Crazy MMA 2."
Miller comes out accompanied by a cavalcade of dancing Japanese schoolgirls. "God bless you, Jason Miller," says announcer Michael Schiavello .
Jacare walks out, arms moving like a alligator's jaws, moseys his way to the ring, ignoring about a dozen screaming Japanese fans eager to drink his sweat. "God bless you, Ronaldo Souza," says I.
Mayhem puts on his serious face and tries to hold back a smirk as the national anthems play. Jacare takes out his mouthpiece for the Brazilian national anthem.

Round 1.
They trade jabs in the center of the ring. Miller is looking to strike, but Jacare takes him down. Miller works back to his feet. Miller puts the muay thai plum on Jacare, but lets it go. They bully eachother along the rope. Jacare lands a couple straight punches. Miller catches a kick and throws Jacare to the ground. Miller levels a soccer kick at Jacare. The move is illegal and the ref calls time. Jacare is cut on the crown of his head. Miller is given a yellow card. Great concern over the cut on Jacare's cut. Chants of "Mayhem" in the crowd. The fight will restart.
Jacare slams Miller to the ground, Miller maintains butterfly guard. Back to the feet, Jacare's cut is bleeding profusely. The fight is stopped to check the cut again. Miller says something to get Jacare's blood up (figuratively speaking) and the ref has to hold Jacare back.
The referree has stopped the fight. Asserting that the foul was unintentional, the fight is ruled a no-contest. Miller seems close to tears.

Miller/Jacare, no contest

"It Hits All By Itself"

UFC 97, Anderson Silva, and the Transformation of a Mixed Martial Artist

The Fight

Being 10 days removed from the night of the championship fight between Anderson Silva and challenger Thales Leites, the sting of initial disappointment and a $45.00 pay-per-view charge has likely worn off, allowing for a more objective look at the middleweight fight. With expectations adjusted, Silva's performance in particular may be reassessed with a lessened sense of outrage, and cooler heads might prevail.

Anderson Silva delivered a very good fight.

It wasn't perfect. As in all things, balance is integral to the art of fighting. Finesse and style, which Silva demonstrated in abundance, require aggression and power, violence, in near equal measure. And while Silva may have left something of the latter to be desired, he nevertheless delivered an intriguing performance, ripe with promise and implication.

Defensively, Silva fought a perfect fight. That he absorbed no appreciable damage is remarkable, more so than people give him credit for, considering that he was fighting a widely recognized top-10 middleweight in Leites, and, second, that there are, from standing strikes to takedowns to submission attempts, a myriad number of ways to come under fire.

Offensively, Silva may have failed to deliver the visceral, high-impact attack of his previous fights. Maybe the most frustrating and puzzling was the lengthy feeling-out process of the first round. However, looking over his other fights, one can see that Silva has always started slow, preferring to feel what his opponents' patterns and intended plans of attack were before mounting an offense himself. That Leites, perhaps noting this pattern, stubbornly refused to stake a claim with any meaningful strikes or takedown attempts drew out the exploratory process longer than usual. We can expect Silva to refine this process in order to guard against such a stalemate, similar to the way he is refining his arsenal of strikes and grappling.

Despite the difficult feeling-out period, Silva displayed an innovative, effective array of striking and grappling. Silva's sidekicks to the knees are, I believe, unprecedented on the larger stages of mixed martial arts, and will in several years time likely turn up more and more often, like the foot stomps that are now relatively common. Silva's punching skills, meanwhile, were in excellent form--as much as one might bemoan his lack of forward aggression, one must certainly appreciate that Silva delivered a great deal of punishment upon Leites' face with maximum efficiency.

Silva exhibited supreme tactical ability that night, though it wasn't thrilling. It also isn't the final stage in Silva's progression as a martial artist. What we have seen is a fighter in the midst of an evolution. Like any artist, Silva's perception and approach to his life and work is changing, and so his tools and the manner in which he utilizes them to express himself necessarily change. For us as an audience, such a period of transition can be difficult to understand and unsatisfying to watch. The artist, as a result, risks losing fans and supporters. Yet such a risk is a necessary step towards growth and greatness.

The Critics

Anderson Silva's tactical but reserved performance yielded no shortage of vitriol from fans and journalists alike. While their disappointment is to an extent understandable based simply on the fact that they didn't get what they expected, most of the indignation and criticism is hugely misplaced and overextended, and is indicative of double standards and a collective short memory that plague MMA.

Sherdog.com's play-by-play from that evening, their editorials following the fight, and their forums are emblematic of these problems.

"What may me remembered as the worst title fight in UFC history mercifully ends."

While the staff writing Sherdog's play-by-play may have remained doubtful on how history would view Silva vs. Leites, they made their own opinions abundantly clear as they related the action round by round.

Much of that evening's column was devoted to relating the anger of the arena crowd, which wouldn't be such a problem if it weren't for the fact that this preoccupation seemed to prevent the staff from fully describing the in-cage action. In particular, Silva's superior generalship of the cage and his brutally efficient flurry in the fifth round were barely mentioned, if at all. These were perhaps nuanced but nevertheless important facets of the match, and deserved greater attention from writers who, by writing for a major MMA media outlet, purport to have some greater understanding of the subject.

And to imply that this fight could be the worst title fight in history is, of course, totally unreasonable. Sylvia vs. Arlovski 3, and Sylvia vs. Monson are two ready examples of title fights that were for any number of reasons worse than Silva vs. Leites.

"Sport vs. Spectacle"

Sherdog.com's Jake Rossen's aforementioned article was rife with misconceptions and exaggerations.

He begins by claiming that Silva's satisfaction at remaining unscathed is akin to an Olympic diver's satisfaction at not getting wet. "So you didn't get wet. You also didn't get in the water," quips Rossen. Of course, what this crippled metaphor fails to recognize is that a martial artist can absolutely, realistically win a fight while remaining elusive and unmarked--being hurt is a likelihood but it is nowhere near as inevitable as getting wet is to winning a diving contest.

Such a glib statement might not warrant such attention were it not for the fact that it essentially provides the foundation for the whole essay. Rossen goes on to suggest that Silva was overly timid, and that he didn't show up to win so much as he showed up not to lose. I suppose it's a matter of opinion, but one born from poor powers of perception. Rather than timid or gun shy Silva appeared totally comfortable, with an interest in experimentation (the mixed results of which have already been noted above). When compared with Tim Sylvia and Andrei Arlovski in their stilted third title fight, a contest that exemplifies fighting-not-to-lose, the claim that Silva is similarly guilty becomes more ridiculous--both Sylvia and Arlovski were dumb struck at each other's punching power to the point of inaction, and were obviously tallying up judges' points in their minds with every jab landed.

But perhaps there's a simple rebuttal to the claims that Anderson Silva wasn't fighting that night. It was written all over Leites' bruised and bloody face.

"Anderson Silva is an asshole"

Such statements flared up on the Sherdog.com message boards in reaction to Silva's assault on Leites' knees during the fight. The kicks and punches were too brutal, fans claimed, as they too-severely threatened Leites' future career. Never mind the knee bar attempts that go unremarked, the tremendous damage that wrestling does to the knees, or the fact that those complaining probably have no medical credentials or physiological expertise to speak of--these complaints are indicative of a couple strange contradictions and double standards endemic to MMA fans.

Specifically, how can Anderson Silva be vilified for being too vicious in his attacks and at the same time reviled for passivity? And, if the attacks on Leites' knees made such an impression on the fans, why weren't they better noted by the journalists? There's a huge gap in logic here, the source of which is not easily identified, but whose solution lies in greater conscientiousness and knowledge, which must be fostered by industry commentators.

And speaking of contradictions, how is it that Anderson Silva's elusive quality is labeled passive and boring, while Silva's training partner Lyoto Machida is hailed as a tactical master for similar in-cage behavior? One would imagine that an informed audience might be more receptive to Silva's developing tactics especially because Machida is his training partner, but this fact seems to go unremarked, and Silva's strategy is mislabeled as an unwillingness to engage.

"...this will all be forgotten."

Wrapping up his aforementioned article, Rossen asserted that were Silva to deliver a sensational knockout in his next fight, his championship bouts with Leites and recent contender Patrick Cote would be forgotten. While this is probably true, it presents a rather disturbing fact: the short, selective memory of the MMA world.

Rossen complains of Silva's unconcerned attitude towards critics and poses the question "What is a sport if not played for the amusement of others?" What he ignores is the fact that Silva has delivered to the audience, in astounding and violent fashion, his first seven outings in the UFC, and in yet many other fights before his Stateside campaign. How is it, then, that Silva doesn't deserve greater benefit of the doubt, that he hasn't earned more credit with fans and, more importantly, professional, ostensibly knowledgeable critics? It's a sad state of affairs when the good that someone has done serves to only further discredit his current imperfect efforts. And while the masses might be excused as having always been fickle (hence Silva's lack of concern with the booing arena), those writing on the subject ought to be responsible for maintaining a greater sense of perspective.

There's one more great misstep represented by Jake Rossen's article. He views the question of MMA as a balance of sport and spectacle, when it's more a matter of sport and art. It's right there in the name. There is a deep well of spiritual and psychological content to a high-level mixed martial arts fight that often goes unnoticed by fans and writers. Silva is a true martial artist in that he wishes to remain effective while at the same time evolve his medium and his place within it. He has to balance the part of his life that he owes to the public (the sport) with the part of his life that he owes to himself as an individual (the art). And paying mind to his own needs as an individual is no small or selfish thing--if he never did this, Anderson Silva as we know him would not exist. After all, it's because of his own desires and personal drive that he persisted in mixed martial arts at all.

The Future

His fight with Leites done and gone, Anderson Silva is rumored to have four fights left until his self-imposed retirement. The most pressing question, then, is what four fighters could Silva realistically take on in order to make a lasting impression on mixed martial arts history?

Below are four (excellent) choices for fights that will ensure a legacy. Matchmaking is proposed with the assumption that Silva wins each of his bouts.

1. Forrest Griffin
This fight is already signed, and it's a good choice coming off the heels of Silva's last, relatively flat title defense. A move up in weight ought to motivate Silva and get his killer instinct up, though predictions that Griffin will brawl are greatly exaggerated--my understanding is that that particular Griffin ceased to exist following his knockout loss to Keith Jardine. Fireworks or not, though, as an established Top-10 light-heavyweight and former champion Griffin is a formidable opponent and would make an excellent mark on Silva's ledger.

2. Yushin Okami
Box-office poison, but a necessary fight at middleweight. While the UFC brass might like to ignore Okami as much as possible, his 7-1-0 mark makes him a burgeoning presence in the middleweight title picture. The fact that Okami is not just the only fighter to defeat Silva in the last year, but also the only one currently active or relevant in the middleweight division makes this fight a must.

3. Wanderlei Silva
Anderson Silva called his one-time training partner's decision to continue his career at middleweight "pretentious." Wanderlei called them fightin' words. A contest between these two former Chute Boxe members would serve as an explosive curative for the ever-imminent but likely reserved fight between A. Silva and Okami. The history that the two Silva's have with each other--Wanderlei was the light heavyweight standout at Chute Boxe, while Anderson recalls being brushed aside and black listed by the clannish muay thai camp--would add a terrific amount of drama to a kill-or-be-killed sort of fracas. This fight would be an exciting farewell to the middleweight division.

4. Shogun Rua
With the middleweight division effectively cleared out, a third climb to light heavyweight would provide the proper summit for Anderson Silva to finally plant his flag. Once again exacting his special brand of ultra-violence on the light heavyweight division, the rebuilt Shogun Rua is the right man to test Silva's mettle, once and for all. A former Chute Boxe standout, Rua's relentless aggression would cut an interesting contrast against Silva's emerging, tactical approach to MMA and, again, a shared history adds a great deal of drama and implication. The one-time heir apparent to Wanderlei Silva's PRIDE championship, Rua would not only make an exciting last opponent for Anderson Silva, but also a poignant one. With this fight Anderson is not just given a shot at adding one of the biggest names in MMA to his list of conquests. He's also given the chance to write the last word on his personal history in mixed martial arts, from a floundering castaway to a pound-for-pound terror; and he gets to do it all on the head and body of a Chute Boxe golden boy, someone who represents his first lasting grudges, early professional hardships, and the doubts and fears that Silva had to triumph over in order to earn himself a chapter in mixed martial arts history.

Evans to Jackson: "I'm gonna dig in dat ass."

"...I don't like to talk trash...I never liked to be in someone's face that close just talking."

These are Rashad Evans' words from a recent Sherdog.com interview with the current UFC light heavyweight champion. Accompanying this were statements of dismay and confusion at the apparent antipathy, even hatred, from fans in the crowd. A sympathetic lamentation on the cruel double standard between Evans and nemesis-of-the-month Quinton Jackson was to follow. Yet for anyone that has been attentive to the careers of Evans and Jackson, Evans' confusion, and the notion of some phantom double standard, ought to stick firmly in craw.

There is no double standard. A double standard suggests that a pair of identical actions are assessed differently, despite occurring within identical circumstances. Yet while both Evans and Jackson have their "antics," they have employed them, consistently, in different contexts.

Jackson, throughout his high-profile career, has been absolutely professional inside the cage. He has not yet show-boated, taunted his opponent, or spoke ill of his opponent following a fight. The only time he trash talks is before a fight, and even that is done with a professional bent--hyping a fight is good business, but using humor keeps things from getting too out of hand. Essentially, he recognizes that there is a time and place for everything; a fighter can cross those bounds and get carried away post-fight if they want (ala Tito Ortiz), but he or she must accept the likely, displeased fan reaction.

By contrast, Evans has consistently clowned around inside as well as outside the cage. And rather than the neutral show-boating exemplified by Anderson Silva's too-fancy footwork against Patrick Cote, Evans sees fit to tap his groin and blow a kiss at the affable Forrest Griffin. In a fight he was already winning on The Ultimate Fighter Season 2, Evans decided to punctuate his impending victory with a fit of dancing in front of Mike Whitehead. And while Evans can wax horrified at the face-off that occurred inside the cage following Jackson's win over Keith Jardine, anyone not born yesterday should be able to guess what happens when the champ enters the cage with the newly minted next-in-line. And even then, if Evans really cared about staying "as composed as possible," he could have pulled a BJ Penn--simply smile, shake, and walk away--but opted for threats of violence, instead. If the fans boo him, he only needs to check his in-cage persona to see why.

The fact is, at this rate, Evans and anyone buying his aw-shucks story are more poised to cement a double standard in place than Jackson and company. And while booing is never something I would condone, if you have to boo someone, it may as well be the guy implying some sort of bizarre, forcible act of oral sex on his opponent.

In the end, Evans is, within reason, free to behave how he wants in the cage--whatever gives him the confidence to win, whatever he thinks will put butts in seats. But he has yet to learn a lesson that one-time nemesis Tito Ortiz seemed to reckon a long time ago: that there is a sacrifice in acting the heel. You draw a crowd, but they only show up to see you lose.

Let the Insanity Begin

There are some days when, as a fan of mixed martial arts, you go to check a bit of news and suddenly don't know what the hell you're looking at. For example, the announced fight between Ken Shamrock and Bobby Lashley.

As part of an upcoming Roy Jones Jr.-promoted event, mixed martial artist turned pro-wrestler turned mixed martial artist Ken Shamrock will take on pro-wrestler turned mixed martial artist Bobby Lashley in a headlining, genre-bending, logic-stretching fight on March 21. Fortunately, they put Seth Petruzelli on the same card, so if Shamrock's face spontaneously explodes they will have a late-replacement on hand. Really, though, let's set all spontaneous explosions aside and speak seriously about this match-up for a moment.

This is a ridiculous match-up.

Having finally snapped a four-year, five-fight losing streak with his victory over Ross Clifton last February, Shamrock seemed ready to ease into the latter days of his career. Beginning with an imminent fight with Tank Abbott, it looked like fans could look forward to a series of fights that, while without any serious ranking-implications, would contain a lot of nostalgia and entertainment value. And, of course, they would be competitive. Because while Shamrock, before last February, may not have won a bout since mid-2005, he hasn't won a fight against a relevant opponent since 1996. Against up-and-comers, title contenders, and solid journeyman fighters, Shamrock has come up short every time since. This fact shouldn't color Shamrock as a poor mixed martial artist so much as it should speak to his seniority.

All sports eventually leave their athletes unable to compete at the elite level. Certainly this is true with mixed martial arts, especially if a fighter began their career in the bare-knuckle days of the early 90s, like Shamrock did. That lengthy career has taken its toll, as Shamrock himself has attested. His knees are bad, making takedowns and takedown defense difficult, and his joints don't work as smooth as they used to. He's been turned from a grappler to a brawler during a time in his life when his capacity for punishment is diminished and the competition is younger, stronger, and faster.

So what is a man like Ken Shamrock, who obviously eats, sleeps, and breathes fighting, supposed to do? Fight the Ross Cliftons of the world, maybe. But better yet, rematch Oleg Taktarov and Masakatsu Funaki and Maurice Smith. Fight Tank Abbott, Mark Kerr, Marco Ruas, and Mark Coleman. There's some five years worth of fights within the pool of the MMA old guard. Shamrock doesn't have to spend his last able years exiled from the sport, nor does he have to be cannon fodder for some talented new comer looking to add a name scalp to his belt. Which brings us to the question: whose bright idea was this?

Shamrock himself seemed ready to promote a fight with Tank Abbott. A victory over Abbott with, perhaps, a follow-up win over comparable competition would have likely spring-boarded Shamrock into a marketable fight with brother Frank Shamrock. A fight with Lashley never appeared on the radar. This leaves Lashley's management, and Jones Jr.'s Squared Ring Promotions.

Lashley's management ought to be looking to develop their fighter while at the same time increase his popularity, and so there's nothing particularly reprehensible about seeking out or accepting a fight with someone as notorious and brittle as Shamrock. Squared Ring Promotion is, however, another matter. While they have a duty to create a profitable event, they also have a responsibility to all their fighters equally, whether they care to admit it or not, and a responsibility to the sport of MMA generally.

Consider first that Lashley is a terrible match up for Shamrock. Shamrock has a weak chin, and his trouble with powerful wrestlers has only gotten worse over the years. At this stage in his career, he simply can't match the athleticism and brute force of the younger generation. It's not even clear if he can match the peers within his own generation--while he may have beaten Kimo Leopoldo, he lost to Dan Severn and Don Frye. Everyone except for Ken Shamrock's blinding rage should be able to see that Squared Ring Promotion is tossing Shamrock under the bus in order to build a name fighter in the explosive Bobby Lashley. One might argue that if Shamrock accepts the fight, then he accepts also the ramifications of such a fight. But is it really fair for a company to exploit a person's compulsive willingness and desire to compete? Contrary to brother Frank's claims, Ken Shamrock has, perhaps absurdly, stepped up to fight amidst horrible odds. He's no coward, and may lack the sense of self-preservation that other mixed martial artists may possess. We should appreciate him as a consummate competitor, not make him pay for it in blood and injury.

Consider also that bizarre mismatches and unnecessary thrashings are what caused MMA to falter in the first place. Savvy marketing and competitive matchmaking are what saved it. The Shamrock-Lashley fight represents a step back in the evolution of the sport and business of MMA--a short-sighted move often committed by those promoters just jumping on the bandwagon (EliteXC being the most recent, infamous example). It makes the sport look cheap and brutal.

Apparently insane as he may be, Ken Shamrock deserves the respect that he went nuts for and screamed about on national television during The Ultimate Fighter 3. The way to offer this to him isn't by letting the new generation use him as a stepladder. Promote him properly. Give him the fights that belong to his generation, let him recapture our imaginations as he reminds us of what and when made him great.

Only in the wild do the young maim and oust their elders--let's remember that there are human beings in the ring.

'99

It's been 10 years since Kazushi Sakuraba started earning his nickname, beginning with a technical submission of Royler Gracie...

A decade since Mark Kerr had a winning year in mixed martial arts...

And a decade for Enson Inoue...

10 years since Vitor Belfort's unsuccesful debut overseas at PRIDE 5...

10 years since Frank Shamrock ended his UFC career with a TKO of Tito Ortiz...

And a decade since the late Evan Tanner made his victorious debut in the UFC.

Superlist: UFC 94

1. Bye Bye Greasy
The controversy surrounding Georges St. Pierre's alleged greasing is beyond ridiculous. To even call it a controversy gives the whole matter too much consideration, as only a lunatic fringe could sincerely believe that St. Pierre's corner intentionally placed some vaseline on his back in between rounds, or that what dubious bit of it remained after the athletic commission official wiped it off made any difference in the outcome of the fight.

Consider: St. Pierre's tactic was to clinch Penn and drag him to the mat. Any extra slipperiness would have only made this more difficult for St. Pierre to accomplish. Furthermore, St. Pierre's corner was only approached by officials following a virtually perfect round from St. Pierre. Given the apparently dominant performance from St. Pierre, any motivation to cheat quickly disappears.

One might attempt to find a correlation between the alleged greasing and St. Pierre's surprising ability to pass Penn's guard, but a second look at the fight will provide a much more obvious explanation. In the second round, following a flurry of punches on the ground from St. Pierre, Penn was visibly hurt, dazed to the point where his preturnatural jiu-jitsu skills abandoned him.

Taking into account the strategy St. Pierre employed, and that strategy's early, flawless execution, any notion that St. Pierre and his corner would willingly cheat is absurd. That the athletic commission responded quickly--and frankly, that Penn offered no appreciable offense that might have been foiled by excess vaseline anyway--makes the possibility of inadvertent cheating almost as ridiculous.

Penn failed to deliver on his hyperbolic threats and promises leading up to the fight, which makes this defeat harder to swallow for fans, Penn's training camp, and Penn himself. These ill-founded accusations are only making things worse.

2. Heads out of Asses
Among other things, UFC 94 was notable for the fact that eight of the ten fights went to decision, and that of those eight, five were split decisions. This may speak to some brilliant match-making, where fighters were so closely matched and fought such dynamic, back-and-forth fights that judges were hard pressed to pick a winner. More likely, though, is that there is a pressing need for refined judging criteria.

For example, while the judges had a hard time deciding the victor for the card's first fight, three major MMA websites delivering play-by-plays unanimously awarded the fight to Dan Cramer over Matt Aroyo. Clay Guida and John Howard's respective victories were close calls but ultimately apparent to the journalists as well, and yet one judge for each fight was compelled to voice a dissenting opinion.

It is not that unusual for a reporting MMA site to clash with an official judge's call, but that a given official's verdict should differ so consistently with devotees of the sport ought to raise a small alarm, at least.

MMA needs judges that are students of mixed martial arts, rather than former judges of boxing, karate, or wrestling matches, and the sport needs more detailed criteria for victory.

3. Keep your Enemies Closer
Karo Parisyan kicked Dong Hyun Kim in the head in an attempt to defend a heel hook.
Jon Jones' spinning elbow dazed Stephen Bonnar, after landing to the back of his head.
These are facts that ought to be apparent to anyone watching the slow-motion replays of the respective fights, and yet Joe Rogan, in his incessant cheerleading and gushing over Jones and Parisyan (a pal of Rogan's, as stated by Mike Goldberg during the broadcast), failed to acknowledge either.

Rogan's enthusiastic and knowledgeable fight commentary has been a great boon for the UFC. While other broadcast teams devolve into an incoherent mush of promotional aggrandizement and hyperbole, Rogan, with Mike Goldberg in tow, has managed to deliver just about the most critical, perceptive cage-side discussion this side of Bas Rutten. Having said that, Rogan's intimate, personal relationship with the sport occasionally gets in the way of objective fight analysis.

The much-hyped Jones was impressive in his decision victory over light-heavyweight stalwart Stephen Bonnar, but the elbow strike that sent Bonnar to the canvas ought to be called for what it is: an inadvertant foul. Multiple replays showed the elbow clearly landing at the back of Bonnar's head, with no notice taken by Rogan whatsoever. Rather, Rogan continued to applaud the flashy technique throughout the replays.

Rogan's bias was also on full display in his incredulity following the referee's intervention in the Parisyan-Kim fight. Rogan was appalled that the referee stopped the fight for what he called a shove to the grounded Kim's face by Parisyan's foot. Yet replays showed that Parisyan's foot was first not in contact with Kim's head and then, with some considerable force, did make contact with Kim's face--about as clear a definition of a kick as you can get. And yes, there is a blurry line between a proper kick and a hard shove, but in a sport like mixed martial arts, officials ought to err on the side of the offended party.

Among high-profile fighter contracts and rumored network television deals, Joe Rogan has been a surprise asset to the UFC. I might be asking more of him than other broadcasters when I wish that he would tweak his self-editor just a bit (not too much so that he loses enthusiasm, but just enought to tone down preferences born from personal relationships). Then again, when you serve as a voice for "The Superbowl of MMA," you open yourself up to all kinds of criticism (even from pasty-skinned keyboard jockies).

4. Working Title
Two winners at UFC 94 may have ended up a little further from a title shot than they anticipated
last Saturday night.

On the short list of contenders since 2005, Parisyan's march toward the welterweight belt has been plagued by untimely defeats and canceled fights. His showing against the undefeated but largely untested Dong Hyun Kim may have served him just as poorly. His unrefined striking, lack of raw power, and poor endurance were defecits made all the more glaring when held up next to welterweight champion St. Pierre's stunning performance that same night. In a division continually swelling with talent (Carlos Condit has been confirmed for the UFC, and Jake Shields is a rumored import), Parisyan will have to reinvent himself in order to remain relevant.

In the light-heavyweight division, Lyoto Machida's first round knockout of Thiago Silva (which improved Machida's record to a sterling 14-0-0), seems to have not been enough to erase his four box-office-poison decision victories in the UFC.

According to Dana White, Machida's shot at the title is contingent on the result of Quinton Jackson versus Keith Jardine--should Jackson falter, Machida will become number one contender. Otherwise, Jackson gets the title shot while Machida has yet one more fight before he can challenge for the belt. This is a surprising choice considering the high number of converts Machida likely earned himself with his impressive showing on Saturday. I would have expected the UFC to strike while the iron was hot rather than risk another long-distance fight from Machida. Jackson as a title contender must really be too marketable to pass up.

5. Unlockable Character...


Afro Jon Fitch for UFC: Undisputed 2009, please.

Also: thinning-hair-ill-fitting-suit Dana White.


Dana White says a silent prayer for a day when everyday is Casual Friday and business men can scowl and flex as freely as the eagle soars.

No Team of Rivals: Thoughts on UFC 93

Beneath the veneer of Marcus Davis' tactful boxing over Chris Lytle, Mark Coleman's gutsy losing effort against Shogun Rua, and the dual Fight of the Night awards they engendered lies the fact that nothing resembling a valid contender emerged from UFC 93.

Shogun Rua, for one, was yet laden with the poor conditioning and muted ferocity that has haunted him since his fight with Forrest Griffin. Many irritated fans speculate that Shogun's new found restriction from performance enhancing drugs is to blame, but that remains merely speculation. What is certain is that a change in fight promotions, training camps, and a series of knee injuries and surgeries (combined, perhaps, with two consecutive opponents that are easily underestimated) have taken a severe toll. Coleman, for his part, showed immense heart and grit in nearly finishing Shogun in the third round, but also exhibited a still-limited skill set and continuously troubling endurance--deal-breakers when considering a match up with champion Rashad Evans, or apparent frontrunners Lyoto Machida and Rampage Jackson.

Rich Franklin, while a top performer, also showed critical flaws in his only-moderate wrestling ability and a distinct tentativeness that would serve him poorly against any of the aforementioned light-heavyweight contenders, let alone nightmare-matchup Anderson Silva back at middleweight. And while Dan Henderson came away with the victory, he didn't show any marked development that would end a second fight with Anderson Silva any differently, either. And its hard to imagine that his wrestling would be good enough to topple the explosive Evans or Jackson (who has already outwrestled Henderson once before) when he could only keep Franklin down in fits and spurts.

Marcus Davis, despite a fairly impressive record, has expressed no wish to become a welterweight champion, which is just as well considering the trouble he had with the tough but unheralded Chris Lytle. Rousimar Palhares, in being unable to finish Jeremy Horn (a feat that Nate Marquardt and recent UFC emigrant Dean Lister accomplished quite handily) showed that his skill set may not be as well-adapted to MMA as many hoped. Elsewhere in the middleweight division, the arrival of anticipated contender Denis Kang ended with a whimper. Kang showed his characteristic in-fight flakiness when he succumbed to a guillotine choke off of an attempted takedown, despite winning in the standup against Alan Belcher. Belcher, meanwhile, has shown some improvement, but suffers from inconsistent performances, which will likely keep him from contender status for at least a year.

Leading up to last Saturday my brother described this card as somehow melancholy, with all of the major players in search of direction or relevance, in some cases desperately. Yet now that the official results have been called, that feeling seems all the more pervasive, with troubled and indistinct performances characterizing much of the night. It could very well take a full year before any of that night's featured light-heavyweights or middleweights can make definitive steps towards a title threat. With uninspired performances from Henderson, Franklin, and Rua, look for Machida to finally cement his number one contender spot at the end of January, while Demian Maia can be expected to break out from the shuffle and grind of the middleweight division with a win over WEC champion Chael Sonnen in late February.