Saturday night UFC 123 lands in metro Detroit -- I stress the "metro" because as a guy who spent six months interning at the Detroit News I can tell you the only thing Auburn Hills has in common with Detroit is that people in both places claim they're from the D.
I loved that the UFC brought their pre-fight events to Detroit's MGM Grand Casino, and staged public workouts at the Detroit Athletic Club. A beautiful show of support to a city that can surely use a boost.
But instead of staging the main event in downtown Detroit, where steam gushes from manhole covers, the People Mover moves next to nobody and where there's a massive statue of Joe Louis' right arm and fist, Saturday's card moves about 20 miles north to Auburn Hills.
I'm here to talk about fights -- three of them in particular -- and invite you guys to join the discussion.
1. Quinton "Rampage" Jackson vs. Lyoto Machida
In 2006 or 2007 I would have chosen Jackson over any light heavyweight in the world but right now I don't know who wins this matchup of former 205-pound champs.
Nearly four years after strongarming his way to a UFC title Jackson's aura of menace still sells. More than just about any other fighter in the UFC Jackson looks the part of bad-ass street brawler, and still talks a great game.
But can he still back it up against top fighters?
Possibly.
You can attribute Jackson's lacklustre performance against Rashad Evans in May to the 40-plus pounds he gained while filming the A-team. Losing his gut essentially turned his training camp into a fat camp, so if he looked lost as Evans outworked him to win a dull decision it shouldn't surprise you.
But what if Jackson's problem is more fundamental than a few extra pounds?
Over Jackson's seven-fight run in the UFC we've seen him flatten every fighter who dared trade punches with him but struggle against fighters who refuse to meet force with force, losing to Forrest Griffin in July 2008 and again to Evans in May.
Machida's one-punch destruction of Evans proves he has the firepower to go toe-to-toe with the division's best, but he's far too tactical and technical to meet Jackson on Jackson's terms.
So how does the brawler turn Saturday's main event into a street fight? And if he can't do that how in the world does he win a decision.
I don't know if he can do either.
2. Matt Huges vs. B.J. Penn, Chapter III
These two are meeting for the welterweight championship of each other, I guess.
Otherwise, why fight?
To move closer to a title shot?
Does Hughes appear any closer to handling Georges St. Pierre now than he did three years ago, when GSP nearly wrenched Hughes' arm out of its socket in a submission win?
Like Hughes, Penn has a pair of losses to St. Pierre, each more decisive than the one before. And since dropping a second decision to GSP Penn has also lost twice to Frankie Edgar, placing him a long way from a title in two weight classes.
What can either man look forward to if he wins?
Another beating from GSP?
A late-career run as a welterweight gatekeeper?
Yet another rematch?
I understand that sometimes great matchups come in threes, and that a third bout should provide us with a winner for the Hughes-Penn series. But not all grudge matches need trilogies and this match holds about as much intrigue for me as Molitor-Ndlovu III.
So our planet has a new Baddest Man, and raise your hand if you were surprised at how thoroughly Cain Velasquez beat up on Brock Lesnar Saturday.
On one level it's never a shock when an MMA fighter loses, no matter how dominant he has been. Each trip to the octagon is fraught with variables, any one of which can lead to defeat for a seemingly indestructible fighter. That's why undefeated records and extended winning streaks are so rare in the sport, and why you'll never see an MMA version of Rocky Marciano.
Still, Lesnar was a heavy betting favourite heading into the fight and had scrambled up from the canvas to dispatch heavyweight powerhouse Shane Carwin in July, so to see him crumble so quickly against Velasquez was a mild surprise.
And Velsquez' win was significant. He didn't escape with a win via desperation submission the way Frank Mir did in Lesnar's MMA debut in 2008. He withstood Lesnar's bullrushes, survived a pair of takedowns and thrashed the biggest heavyweight in the UFC and the biggest name in the sport.
That's a huge deal.
But it's not historic.
Yes, I know Velasquez' victory makes him the first fighter of Mexican descent to claim the UFC's heavyweight crown, but that accolade alone doesn't make him a pioneer.
It's not like Mexican-American fighters are new to the sport or to the UFC, but as Velasquez prepared for last week's title shot the UFC for the first time appealed to a Mexican-American audience as part of its pre-fight hype.
The campaign also crossed the United States' norther border, and if you listened much to the FAN last week you probably heard the UFC radio spot emphasizing that Velasquez had a chance to become the first Mexican in the history of "fighting" to win a heavyweight title.
I won't argue with that.
The ad's use of the word "fighting" is meant to broaden the discussion beyond MMA, and indeed boxing has never had a heavyweight champ of Mexican descent. Former WBA heavyweight ruler John Ruiz has Puerto Rican roots, while Chris Arreola has Mexican blood and a big right hand, but a steadily expanding waistline and a knockout loss in his lone title shot.
So that leaves Velasquez.
His win on Saturday was entertaining as it was unpredictable, but I'm not the only one who can't quite co-sign on the attempt to package Velasquez as a barrier-breaker.
That he is the first person of Mexican descent to claim win a heavyweight title is a point of fact, but there's difference between the first to achieve a feat and a true pioneer,
It's called context.
The context here is that MMA as we know it has never had an explicit or implied colour or culture line.
Boxing geeks like me know George "Little Chocolate" Dixon as the Halifax native who became the first black fighter (and first Canadian) to win a world boxing title when he snatched the featherweight crown from Johnny Murphy in 1890.
A broader range of sports fans knows Jack Johnson as the first black heavyweight champion in history.
He's also a litmus test for the significance of Velasquez' win Saturday night.
The man Johnson defeated, Tommy Burns, was the first Canadian ever to win the world heavyweight title. That feat makes Burns a legendary figure in Canadian sport but lacks the broader importance of Johnson's win because Burns only ever had to face the man across the ring. Johnson, meanwhile, had to overcome rigid racial barriers and circumvent social norms just for the chance to challenge for the belt.
Crossing the heavyweight division's colour line made Johnson a pioneer while Burns was merely the first to achieve.
See the difference?
Now fast-forward a century and ask yourself (WITHOUT googling or otherwise researching) who was the first black fighter to win a UFC crown?
Who was the first latino?
Who was the first non-white or non-anglo period?
The correct answer is:
Who cares?
Few people that I know, mainly because it's tough to celebrate breaking a barrier that never really existed. It's not like the UFC ever had rules against non-white fighters, or even a Major League Baseball-style "Gentleman's Agreement."
Competition in the octagon has always been wide open.
This doesn't mean the UFC has never had to wrestle with racial issues.
Early in the buildup to the May 29 clash between Rashad Evans and Quinton "Rampage" Jackson, commercials hyping the bout featured Jackson's promise to commit an act of "black-on-black violence" against Evans in the Octagon.
As if race-baiting is a selling point.
As if race-baiting is any less despicable when it's intra-racial.
Justifiably, the UFC took some heat over the marketing tack they had taken and in turn narrowed the focus of the pre-fight trash talk they chose to highlight.
So yes, race pops up periodically in the UFC just as it does everywhere in (North) American life, but ethnicity has never defined or divided the sport the way it did boxing a century ago or baseball until 1947.
The UFC has only ever existed in an integrated age, with fighters of every ethnic background welcome to compete. And until UFC 12, when organizers wisely imposed weight classes, the UFC didn't even discriminate on the basis of a fighter's size. As long as officials thought you were qualified, anyone could fight anyone. Period.
This isn't to diminish Velasquez' achievement. Hats off to any man to flattens Brock Lesnar, and becoming the first heavyweight champ of Mexican descent is certainly noteworthy.
But a century after Jack Johnson it's just not historic.
If that news disappoints you, it's natural. Two decades after the Ben Johnson scandal in Seoul blew the cover off steroid use in high-level pro sports we'd like to think our athletes know better than to flout anti-doping, and each time we come across one who hasn't learned that lesson it stings a little.
But if you're surprised when an athlete in any contact/collision/combat sport test positive you're naive.
Period.
If steroids help in baseball, they damn sure help in football, hockey, boxing and MMA.
Yes I know technique is paramount and skills pay the bills, but supernatural strength and a heightened bloodlust can carry you a long way in the octagon.
A boost in testosterone fills both those needs nicely.
It's comforting to believe Sonnen is simply country strong and right-wing angry, but to learn that extra testosterone fueled his implacable rage and relentless ground-and-pound August 7 in San Jose makes perfect sense to me.
A great chin is one thing but Sonnen's absolute refusal to be hurt, or to slow down despite a busted nose that leaked like the Deepwater Horizon amazed me, and the doping revelation may help answer questions about how he pulled it off.
But it raises one more.
First, what does the UFC plan to do about drug cheats?
As for the first question, we know Sonnen faces a $2,500 fine 12-month suspension from the California State Athletic Commission but it's not clear whether the UFC plans to discipline him beyond that or to address the broader problem of doping in their sport.
Thanks to the UFC's incessant lobbying MMA is now legal and regulated in every major jurisdiction in North America besides New York State, but 17 years after the first UFC event the sport is working to dispel the notion that it's simply a human cockfight, still fighting to prove it deserves a place in the mainstream.
A soft stance on doping doesn't help that cause.
I reached out to UFC officials this morning and I'm still waiting to hear what they say, but looks to me like the current system is insufficient. Suspensions vary by commission, but a six or nine-month ban isn't much of a punishment for a fighter who only competes every four to six months anyway. It's more like a delay. You push back your next scheduled fight, serve your suspension, then move forward.
So I'm wondering if the UFC starts imposing doping penalties of its own, suspending fighters or even terminating contracts for flunking drug tests.
Earlier this week the UFC released lightweight Efrain Escudero, who earned a contract by winning Season eight of The Ultimate Fighter but who had lost two of his last three fights, and had failed to make weight for his most recent loss.
A harsh reaction, for sure, but understandable. The UFC paid Escudero to perform, and when he didn't they tossed him aside.
This is a business, after all.
And because it's a business the UFC just might leave Sonnen alone. His impromptu stand-up routines coupled with his near-conquest of Silva make him way more marketable and much less expendable than Escudero. But if the UFC wants to make another huge step toward mainstream legitimacy it'll drop any fighter who flunks a drug test. If being a boring fighter makes you unfit to stay on the organization's payroll, so should cheating.
Either way, I'm hardly the only guy who figured Couture would take down and overwhelm the 42-year-old Toney without much time or effort. It doesn't take a visionary to foresee a wrestling expert and MMA veteran choking out a guy who has never grappled before.
The result was about as predictable as a showdown between Toney's willpower and the buffet table.
And it was about as significant as it was competitive.
Yes, Saturday night marked the first time we saw a big-name boxer take on a top-flight mixed martial artist in a near no-holds-barred fight, but the bout was far from a final referendum on which group of athletes is superior.
Like Toney the Pirates have a glorious and well-documented past. Thirty-one years ago the Pirates claimed a World Series, giving the city of Pittsburgh six major pro titles (two World Series and four Super Bowls) in the decade of the seventies.
But like Toney they watch that glory fade a little every day, and while they still remain in the major leagues their performance, payroll and paid attendance slide steadily toward minor league levels.
Couture, meanwhile is like Pakistani cricket: not the same force as in the glory days (there's no replacing Inzimam Ul Haq), but they're still a world power, and way too strong for any minnow to challenge.
So expecting Toney to put in nine months of MMA training and give Couture anything resembling a tough fight is like asking Andrew McCutchen and crew to fly to Islamabad and go wicket-for-wicket with team Pakistan.
Wouldn't happen, and we know it because we realize that for all the similarities between baseball and cricket there's still a vast difference between the two.
Somehow we forget that when trying to compare boxing and MMA but as Couture demolished Toney Saturday night we all received an emphatic reminder.
If we really wanted to prove MMA fighters were superior to boxers in all aspects we'd have to arrange a rematch between Toney and Couture under the Queensberry Rules.
Of course, it's been discussed and of course, Couture is vowing never to enter a boxing ring with Toney.
After Saturday's fight he told reporters that if the two men ever boxed “James would probably knock me out in the first round.”
I don't know.
First round knockouts were never Toney's style (and yes, I feel comfortable discussing Toney's boxing career in the past tense). More likely he would pick Couture apart early and beat him down in the middle rounds. Either way, if Toney and Couture had met in a ring Saturday night Couture might still be on his back with the referee counting over him.
But they met in an octagon, which proves that Couture has learned a hard lesson about the fight game that still eludes Toney:
Never take a fight unless you know you can win it.
Wednesday afternoon I received a call at the office from a man with a wicked South African accent, asking if I could provide a contact number for "Mixed Martial Arts."
Knowing what he wanted but taking his question at face value, I told him that I could also furnish him with phone numbers for "Hockey" and "Auto Racing." I had to stop myself from laughing but our friend wasn't amused and wouldn't hang up without some type of contact info, so I reluctantly provided the email address of the person I figured he was seeking.
Just another day in my life ever since the provincial government announced last Saturday that it would move to legalize professional mixed martial arts in Ontario.
Just to clarify it for anyone still fuzzy on the issue, I don't work for the Ultimate Fighting Championship, the Athletic Commission or anyone else in the world of professional MMA. But like everyone else even remotely connected with the sport I've received several calls from people who had scarcely heard of the sport before last week, but whose interest was aroused by last Saturday's announcement.
Some of them have been opportunists, folks looking for a way to do business with a cash cow like the UFC.
But most are simple citizens, enraged that the government would sanction such a brutal bloodsport and looking for a place to vent their disgust.
A few lucky folks already had a platform to express their displeasure with the Liberal government's decision.
But at least gay marriage opponents fought against any official change in the definition of marriage from the beginning, opposing same-sex marriage legislation wherever it was proposed well before any laws were actually changed.
In contrast, MMA's adversaries in Toronto barely know what they're arguing against, and didn't decide they hated the sport until they realized it was legal. Otherwise they would have started speaking out against this move last week, last month or last year.
Or they would have at least spent some time reading up before speaking out. If you think the sport is called "THE mixed martial arts," or believe that MMA and UFC are synonyms, you need to do a little more research simply to qualify yourself to speak out against either one.
And if you're making a safety-based argument about why MMA is more dangerous than other combat/contact/collision sports, you should read up on the link between pro football and brain trauma. The info isn't hard to find, and no sense in avoiding it simply because it undermines your point. The truth is that football helmets make the sport more dangerous because they function not just as protective gear but as weapons.
And the bigger truth is that boxing, hockey, football and MMA can all, over time, traumatize your brain. To single out MMA as the most dangerous sport among them is beyond arbitrary. It's like selling vodka but banning tequila.
But the point here isn't to provide a tutorial on the relative danger of the various bloodsports we support.
It's to lend direction to a debate that has strayed far from what's important.
And what's important is how the pending changes to Ontario's Athletics Control Act will affect our lives.
Reality check.
It won't. Unless you're one of the handful of people who a) works for the Athletic Commission, b) hopes to promote a show or c) is brave (or crazy) enough to throw punches for money, your life will not change.
Seems to me this whole debate has some people's brains so rattled that they no longer recognize the difference between the "legal" and "mandatory."
Let me clear it up.
While sending your kids to school is required, promoting or attending an MMA show in Toronto is merely permitted.
Get it?
I'll put it another way.
If you believe same sex marriages are immoral and unnatural, don't engage in one.
And if you hate the idea of legal mixed martial arts in Ontario, don't go to the show. It really is your choice.
Last night I arrived in Boston, where MMA was legalized last year and where the UFC will debut on Aug 28, and half expected to see octagons erected in public parks, people grappling in the street, and Dana White and Deval Patrick standing side by side, strong-arming Bostonians into buying tickets for UFC 118.
But none of that happened. Somehow, despite the legalization of MMA last December, Boston is pretty much the same place I visited last September. People here still say "wikkid" when they mean "very," "jimmies" when they mean "sprinkles," and "Linder" when they mean "Linda."
And like people in Ontario, Bostonians will attend the UFC's first event here because they want to, and anyone who isn't interested is free to ignore it.
Because Massachusetts, like Ontario, is a democracy and nothing can change that.
Props to you if you saw this coming, because I sure didn't.
Yes, I understand that UFC middleweight contender Chael Sonnen was
sent into the ring with champion Anderson Silva precisely because he
was a different type of challenger, one who wouldn't indulge Silva's
cheap imitation of Satchel Paige's showmanship, and one who -- unlike
everybody since Forrest Griffin -- would actually force Silva to fight.
UFC president Dana White promised as much in the wake the five-round cure for insomnia
that passed for Silva's April title defence against fellow Brazilian
Demian Maia in April, and the prospect of an opponent who would force
Silva to put his marvelous array of skills on full display sounded
tantalyzing.
Problem was, we had heard it all before.
Travis Lutter and Dan Henderson were each supposed to provide that type of challenge, and each of them tapped out.
Griffin, a fearless brawler, was supposed to test Silva's chin
and survival skills at 205 pounds, but the Spider splattered him in less than
a round, flattening him for good with a perfectly placed left jab to
the jaw.
So I don't know about you guys, but Sonnen didn't seem any different to me.
Sure, he manhandled past Silva victim Nate Marquardt over three
rounds in February, but that result alone didn't put him in Silva's
class. And the 10 losses be brought into Saturday's bout suggested
there was more than one way to beat him.
As the bout approached and Sonnen's trash talk intensified he reminded me more and more of Peter McNeeley.
Remember him?
He's the guy Don King unearthed to serve as Mike Tyson's first post-incarceration opponent in August 1995, a world-class jaw jacker who promised to envelop the former heavyweight champ in "a cocoon of horror."
We all know how that turned out.
I knew Sonnen brought a lot more to the table than McNeeley did, but
I didn't foresee a much different result. As I told folks on Twitter
as the fighters walked to the ring, Sonnen seemed a lot like Griffin --
a fighter just brave enough to get hurt...badly.
Shows you what I know.
The day after Tyson Gay stunned the World's Fastest Man in
Stockholm, Sonnen nearly did the same to the Usain Bolt of MMA. And
even though he managed not to win the fight, in manhandling Silva for
four and a half rounds he proved that the most dominant fighter of the
past half decade is indeed human.
Who knew?
Sonnen did, apparently, and Saturday night he put Silva in more
jeopardy than we had seen him endure in his first 11UFC bouts
combined. He fought with a visceral anger rarely seen outside Tea
Party rallies, repeatedly dumping the middleweight champ on his back,
and winning round after round with his suffocating ground and pound.
Silva, we all know by now, survived and triumphed because true
champions find ways to win even when losing looks like the only option.
Of course, when a megastar like Silva struggles, questions arise.
When Bolt lost to Gay track insiders and casual fans alike posited that he
dropped the race intentionally, hoping to stoke interest among a sports public bored by his dominance.
Silva's near-loss prompted similar speculation.
Did he give away the early rounds on purpose?
I've heard that theory and the rationale behind it -- that he was
doing fans a favour, building drama by letting an overmatched opponent
whale away on him knowing he could end the fight whenever he felt like
it.
Not sure I buy it, though. This is a bloodsport, where a simple
miscalculation -- say walking into a punch you don't see -- could cost
you a title, and a grave mistake could put you on a stretcher.
Other folks think SIlva simply didn't prepare for this bout
properly, and that he underestimated Sonnen the same way many fans and
*ahem* experts did.
Perhaps, but I don't know if a fighter who so enjoys outclassing
opponents would take an opponent as intense as Sonnen so lightly.
From my seat at Hooters it simply appeared as though Silva simply
met a well trained, highly motivated opponent whose mauling, brawling
style gave him problems.
Did complacency play a role?
It's very possible.
For four rounds Silva looked like a man fighting to defend a title while Sonnen looked like a man fighting for his life.
Big difference.
We also can't forget that Silva's 35 years old. He's not ancient but
certainly not in any athletes prime years, either. Since arriving in
the UFC in 2006 no opponent could even make him sweat, but aside from
steroid fueled baseball players who delayed the aging process indefinitely
no athlete, no matter how gifted and skilled, spends more than three
years at the absolute top of his game. They might still dominate but
they still slide downhill after they peak.
So it's possible that after three untouchable years Silva has slowed down a bit.
But in the end it didn't matter on Saturday night. Skill and savvy conquered raw aggression. Silva
couldn't figure out how to stay off his back, so devised a way to win
from there, splitting Sonnen's brow with elbow strikes and locking in
an inescapable triangle choke when a tiring Sonnen left himself open to
it.
The result was a last-minute submission win and the most dramatic win of Silva's UFC career.
Whether it was the most impressive depends on who you ask.
Personally, I like to see how well an athlete performs when he's at
his best, regardless of the margin of victory. I never downgraded Roy
Jones Jr. for never having overcome adversity because the talent gap
between him and his opponents wasn't his fault.
On the track I'd rather see Bolt run 9.58 and win by two metres than
watch him gut out a 10-flat photo finish. Again, if the second-fastest
man on the planet is (on most days) a full stride slower, that's not
Bolt's problem.
So while Saturday night's win was the most riveting of Silva's
career, give me his one-punch destruction of renowned tough guy Forrest
Griffin as the strongest evidence of his greatness.
I don't mean to detract from the drama of Saturday's win -- it
stands alone as a signature victory for Silva and the sport, and is to
mixed martial arts what Joe Louis' Hail Mary 13th round knockout over
Billy Conn was to boxing.
But while a big win despite adversity certainly signals that a virtuoso like Silva also has a legend's heart, it also might signify that the rest of the world is closing the gap.
I haven't forgotten about UFC 113 in Montreal, with its hotly debated rematch between Lyoto Machida and Shogun Rua, and highly anticipated Canadian debut of the the man with the third-best beard in pro sports, Kimbo Slice.
On the contrary UFC 113 is very much on my mind, even as I spend the weekend in the Windy City, following the third-place Blue Jays' four-game series with the White Sox.
The good news for local MMA diehards is that the UFC folks inform me that Saturday night's event isn't yet sold out, and that if you possess the requisite money, time and initiative, you still have a chance to see the event in person at the Bell Centre.
Second...
And most importantly, we got Georges St-Pierre on the phone. The UFC's welterweight champ has been a busy man this week, stopping by Parliament Hill to lobby for the legalization of his sport in Ontario before return to his hometown to help hype the UFC's first Canadian event of 2010.
Nevertheless he found time to talk to Fighting Words and offered his insights on a number of subjects.
Three years after they annexed the rival promotion World Extreme Cagefighting, the guys who run the Ultimate Fighting Championship think the WEC is set for a surge in popularity, and this Saturday the promotion will stage its first pay-per-view event since the UFC takeover.
The bout promises fireworks and WEC is putting on a full-court press to promote it, recording a documentary style countdown show that will air this week on three U.S. networks (Versus, SPIKE and MTV2) as well as the Score here in Canada.
UFC president says the WEC event offers not only a great main event but impeccable timing, and hopes an explosive main event helps fans and media move past what has been a less than stellar month in mixed martial arts.
Then last week, in the afterglow of Jake Shields' upset win over Dan Henderson on Strikeforce event broadcast live on CBS, Jason "Mayhem' Miller crashed the party, helping touch off Bowe-Golota-esque post-fight melee. Nobody was seriously injured, but the public image of Strikeforce and the sport overall took another bruising.
Combined, Silva's indifferent effort and Miller's pro wrestling-style run-in dealt a double shot of bad news to anyone with an interest in pushing mixed martial arts a little further into the mainstream.
When top performers don't (or simply won't) perform fans lose interest, as the boxing industry learned the hard way in the lean years that preceded Mayweather-De La Hoya.
And while North American sports fans have a high tolerance, and even something of an appetite, for on-field thuggery, too much misbehaviour will turn them off.
And that's why White is so excited about this Saturday's event, a high-octane card whose main event White describes as a superfight.
"Faber's the most dominant featherweight ever and Jose Aldo hasn't lost a fight since 2005 and this kids last six fights have been wins by knockout," White said"I want to get this fight on as fast as we can and not even think about the last two weeks."
During a 15-minute phone interview White pointed out that it's a shame two straight weekends of misbehaviour should overshadow a bout as intriguing as Aldo-Faber. And he's right, but mainstream media attention doesn't always follow quality.
It follows profile, for better or for worse.
That's why a temper tantrum from Ron Artest will always pull more headlines than a 30-point outburst from Stephen Curry.
It's why Alex Rodriguez' love life received more ink than Roy Halladay's dominance.
And its why today a lot of folks can tell you who started the brawl (Miller), but not who won th lightweight showdown between Gilbert Melendez and Shinya Aoki (it was Melendez by decision).
The headache for White is that even though the brawl didn't take place during a UFC event, the responsibility falls to his organization to undo the damage to the sport's image.
"Strikeforce puts on this horrible event and that happens at the end and the mainstream doesn't know the difference between UFC and what CBS is putting on," he said. "They all think it's UFC so now I have to go out and fix this thing...We're not even sanctioned in Toronto and New York. We're trying to get all this stuff done and we've got stuff like this going on on CBS."
Personally, I don't think the brawl damaged the sport's reputation too deeply. True, White et al are working hard to dispel the stereotype that MMA fighters are knuckle-draggers who crack heads for fun, but can anyone here name a mainstream sport that doesn't witness at least one major, outside-the-rules physical confrontation every year?
And did either of those incidents drive either of those sports off the map?
Exactly.
So if sports fans, politicians and the media really feel like getting behind mixed martial arts they'll do it, brawl or no brawl.
Still, an all-action main event Saturday night would do a lot to boost the WEC's profile, and to put the focus back where it belongs -- in the octagon and between the bells.
Through the first two rounds of his title defence against Demian Maia Saturday night I was ready to label Anderson Silva the Satchel Paige of the Octagon.
And who is Satchel Paige?
Only the greatest pitcher who ever lived. A Negro League legend who didn't break into the majors until age 42 and who pitched professionally deep into his fifties. Like Silva is today, a virtuoso who often struggled to find opponents worthy of his once-in-a-lifetime level of skill.
It was a common problem for Paige who, like other big-time ballplayers of his era (or eras), kept the bills paid over the winter by barnstorming -- traveling town to town with a team of all-stars, defeating a team of local heroes, then passing the hat.
Pitting an all-time great pitcher against a decent semi-pro doesn't offer much intrigue. The outcome is pretty much guaranteed. Imagine, for example, Roy Halladay and friends showing up at Christie Pits to play the Intercounty Maple Leafs.
So to keep things interesting Paige had to stunt, calling in his outfielders and pitching with just an infield, or guaranteeing fans he would strike out the first nine batters.
Is that arrogant?
Yes.
Showboating?
For sure.
But but does that type of grandstanding add entertainment value to a confrontation so one-sided it would otherwise lack drama?
Absolutely. And that's why I had no problem with Silva's clowning in the early rounds -- the trash talk, the posturing, the capoeira sequence.
As long as he mixed his antics with action I could dig it, and Silva did drop Maia with a flying knee and tag him at will with type of laser-guided lefts and rights that put Forrest Griffin to sleep last August.
And as long as I had the feeling that Silva had a plan to meld flash with function and build up to a definitive ending, I would remain entertained.
But then Silva stopped fighting.
If the early round showboating was like Satchel pitching sans outfielders to ratched up drama before closing the show like the master he was, the second half of the fight was like a pitcher intentionally walking every other batter because....well, just because. Because he had a big lead and nothing to prove and no regard for the people who paid to see world-class competition.
Only Silva can explain why (and he didn't do a good job of it after the fight), but he spent the second half of the fight moving a lot, talking even more but throwing fewer and fewer punches and kicks. That he still managed to cruise to a unanimous decision speaks more to the yawning gap in ability between SIlva and Maia than to anything Silva did to win rounds.
If you didn't see the fight, you're lucky. I won't suggest you order a replay on pay-per-view or even try to hunt down a bootleg copy online. You'll sit there waiting for a knockout that never comes, and by the time Bruce Buffer announces the decision you'll have burnt 30 minutes you'll never get back. Better that I made that sacrifice for you.
Again, I don't mind verbal sparring as long as guys actually back up the trash talk with their fists (and feet and elbows, etc.). But nobody spent 50 bucks to watch these two debate, and if words are really that important, Silva can get a blog and say whatever he wants about Maia.
Either way, Silva coasted to a lopsided decision, keeping his UFC middleweight title but losing fans. Spectators that cheered Silva's early antics chanted Maia's name in the end, and I can't imagine the millions of viewers watching in homes and sports bars worldwide feeling any differently.
But Silva didn't seem to care. He didn't seem bothered by the boos, and post-fight didn't do much to explain or his startling change in tactics.
UFC president Dana White, meanwhile, is furious -- and he has a right to be. White knows better than anyone the mind-boggling ability Silva brings to the octagon, but as Sports Illustrated's Josh Gross points out Silva has embarrassed and enraged White twice before by mailing in wins over opponents he should have annihilated.
So after turning off both his fans and his boss, what's next for the Spider?
Tough to tell.
Even if he doesn't always bother to out-hustle or out-fight them, Silva has outclassed every opponent at both 205 and 185 pounds. And as disappointing as his decision win over Maia was, it did provide further evidence that Silva, more than anything, needs an opponent that will force him to use his dazzling array of skills.
One weight class south Montreal's Georges St. Pierre seeks the same, and as Silva entered the ring on Saturday the broadcast crew mentioned that a big win could set the two champions up for a showdown at 170 pounds. But after sleepwalking and trash-talking through the final two rounds against Maia, is White really inclined to reward Silva with a mega fight?
I doubt it, but maybe a mega fight is what he needs, not because he deserves it after dogging it against Maia, but because GSP is one of the few fighters in the world who can force Silva to do what we all tune in to see him do.
ARLINGTON, Texas -- Haven't been datelining my sporadic blog posts but I've been on the road for the last little while, immersed our southern neighbour's national pastime, and trying my best to stay connected to the world of professional pugilism.
** And honestly, daytime baseball doesn't lend itself to morning blogging but with regular season underway and a ton of night games coming expect a lot more action on this blog in the coming weeks**
Anyway thanks to the Magic of Twitter I managed to find out last week what you hardcore MMA fans surely already know: That the UFC and the City of Vancouver have settled whatever differences (reportedly liability insurance and security deposits) were delaying UFC 115. The show will go on as originally scheduled, June 15 at GM Place, and UFC president Dana White lit up his Twitter feed last week trumpeting the news.
Understandable. Given the choice, who among us wouldn't choose a weekend in Vancouver over a weekend in Cincinnati. No disrespect to the hometown of Rich Franklin, Aaron Pryor and one half of Reflection Eternal, but I'd take VanCity, and so would most of you.
So what effect, if any, will the confirmation of the Vancouver show have on MMA's legal status in Ontario?
If you're not an Insider, do the 20th century thing and pick up a copy of the magazine -- the one with Ichiro et al on the cover. If this story alone isn't worth your time and money I owe you....an apology.
OK, back to twitter and the UFC and the province that's Yours to Discover.
If you didn't click the link here's the Reader's Digest version:
If you're upset that MMA events are still illegal in Ontario then your beef is with Ken Hayashi, head of the Ontario Athletic commission and the person best positioned to start the legalization process. He continues to claim section 83 of the Criminal Code, which outlaws unsanctioned prizefights, also outlaws any MMA event, and that only a regime change or extreme attitude adjustment within the athletic commission can give MMA advocates what they're looking for.
In a lot of ways, Hooper's right.
I've been asking the same questions of Hayashi every few months for five years now, and getting the same answers about why MMA isn't legal in Ontario:
* The sport lacks a safety record at the amateur level, but the commission doesn't deal with amateur sports so direct further questions elsewhere.
* The sport violates section 83 of the Criminal Code, but the Ontario commission can't speak to what's happening in Quebec or Alberta, so direct further questions elsewhere.
* No, our stance on the sport hasn't changed in light of (insert development here), so please, direct further questions elsewhere.
Trust me, I'm familiar with the frustration Hooper feels dealing with the Ontario commission on this topic.
But the more I think and talk and write about it, the more my mind returns to the same question:
What if the keeping MMA out of Ontario really is the safest course of action -- for fighters, I mean.
Before we continue... yes, I'm aware of the stats. One hundred eleven UFC shows and counting, no life threatening injuries. And I've followed both sports long enough to know that while you're more likely to break a bone in a mixed martial arts match, it's a much safer sport than boxing, where 12 rounds of head shots can lead to a lifetime of cognitive impairment.
Now, nobody with the power to affect combat sports legislation would ever say this but my gut feeling is that if the UFC were the only mixed martial arts organization going changing the law wouldn't be a problem.
Hayashi makes clear his concerns about safety and the UFC would be able to satisfy them. That organization has the manpower to make sure that qualified referees, judges and doctors would work any show that took place in this province and maintain the safety record they've already established.
Problem is, the UFC isn't the only MMA promotion out there, and if you legalize the sport for Dana White you also legalize it for every small-time local hustler who can string together a three letter acronym and call himself an MMA promoter. These guys wouldn't have access to the judges, referees and doctors the UFC would bring, who do you think would have to provide officials for these smaller shows?
Exactly.
And if you don't think that presents concerns about the level of safety and quality of officiating then you haven't been to a pro boxing show in this province.
This is not to accuse the Athletic Commission of widespread corruption and incompetence, but folks who follow boxing locally know commission officials offer plenty to question.
Consider:
* Nov. 21, 2009, Undefeated filipino prospect Ciso "Kid Terrible" Morales rides into Casino Rama on Marvin Sonsona's coattails and meets Mexico's Miguel Angel Gonzales Piedras, who batters Morales for eight rounds. Everybody on press row saw the fight as a clear win for Piedras, and even the large Filipino cheering section fell silent after the final bell, awaiting the inevitable blemish on their guy's record.
They didn't need to worry. Two judges scored the fight for Morales and a third had it a draw. Morales escaped with his perfect record intact and the rest of us left the building if Piedras ever had a chance at winning a decision.
* Jan. 16, 2010, Another undefeated prospect, Victor Puiu, meets another rugged Mexican, Ulises Jimenez, and gets the worst of a sloppy eight-round slugfest. Again, the outcome seems clear -- a decision win for Jimenez, who took the fight on short notice and landed the cleaner and more numerous blows. And again the judges render a mysterious decision -- a draw. Puiu remains undefeated.
**I'm not suggesting anything crooked in either case. Just saying the decisions were dreadful.**
Jan. 16, 2010, On the Puiu-Jimenez undercard, amateur standout and two-time provincial champ Denton Daley made his pro debut against a guy named Irving Chestnut. Daley is quick, powerful and learning rapidly after a late start in the sport. Chestnut is old enough to have sparred with James Toney as an amateur (really...he actually did), but managed not to turn pro until facing Daley more than 20 years later.
Pre-fight pictures don't always tell the story, but look at this one and tell me how you think this fight unfolded.
No surprises when the opening bell rang. Daley moved, boxed and, most of all, potshotted Chestnut, whiplashing his head and dropping him more times than I can count. At any point after round one referee John Wylie could have stopped the fight, but he allowed Chestut to absorb percussive shots. My notebook from that night is spattered with droplets of Chestnut's blood.
When Chestnut went down in third Wylie should have ended it. He wobbled to his feet and barely beat the count, but his glassy eyes and quivering legs told everyone in the arena the fight was done.
Everyone except Wylie, who, incredibly, sent Chestnut back to centre ring so Daley could do this:
A spectacular knockout, for sure, but the product of poor matchmaking at best, negligent refereeing at worst. It's not a stretch to say Chestnut could have died that night, pushed back into a fight he had shown he couldn't win, wobbling on unsteady legs to face a young, hungry fighter with one-punch power. A dangerous situation, even by the standards of a bloodsport.
So what does that have to do with MMA in Ontario?
Everything.
I just laid out two bad decisions and a potentially tragic one, all unfolding within two months of each other and all made by athletic commission officials who have experience with boxing.
If commission officials bungle decisions in a sport with which they're familiar, imagine what would happen if you put the same folks in an MMA event. Or imagine charging this same group with recruiting and training the officials who would oversee non-UFC MMA shows in Ontario.
Would you feel confident the the guy who fights best would win the decision?
Could you say for sure that the referee would know when to step in and stop a fight?
Would you entrust your record, your career and your safety to rookie officials straight out of the Ontario commission's training program?
You probably wouldn't, and neither would I.
It frustrates a lot of fans that Ontario won't join every other major jurisdiction and legalize the fastest-growing sport in the world, but poor officiating adds a layer of risk to an already dangerous game. So until Ontario is willing to invest in quality officiating and limit poor decisions in all combat sports the safest course of action -- for now -- is to stay out of the Octagon.
From the ring to the octagon, from mixed martial arts to the sweet science, National Newspaper Award winner Morgan Campbell covers all angles of the fight game.
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