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.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
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
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
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
"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.
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.
Friday, March 13, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
'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.
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.
Monday, February 2, 2009
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.
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.
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