When a fighter discovers that special gift of toughness in both the fists and the chin, it’s celebrated. It’s also mined and depleted like a vein of gold in the ground.
Word gets out and the appetite grows. One good slugfest begets another, each one a little more drool-inducing—for all parties involved—than the last.
That’s where we are with this celebrated heavyweight named Junior dos Santos. About halfway through his five-round pier-sixer with Stipe Miocic Saturday at UFC on Fox 13, dos Santos’ face reached that now-familiar stage where it looks like a beached whale tossed ashore and set to burst open along the seams of its own bloating. We all took one look at that look after his last two title fights with Cain Velasquez, and we all had one thought: We must have it again.
Dos Santos persevered, came on strong down the stretch and ultimately took a narrow unanimous decision. But in taking that decision, he also took plenty of lumps: 89 significant strikes, to be exact, according to stats keeper FightMetric. Other than Miocic, who took 123, no one else on the card took anywhere near that quantity. Yes, it was the only five-round fight of the event, but punishment is still punishment, especially among heavyweights. And Santos did next to nothing to stave off the damage, unless you count occasionally dancing backward.
The superlatives on social and traditional media were as predictable as they were understandable. Toughness. Courage. WAR. Just as predictable were the calls for Dos Santos’ next opponent. Some wanted Alistair Overeem, the converted minotaur who flattened Stefan Struve earlier in the evening. Others asked for a rematch with Mark Hunt, the anthropomorphic boulder who nearly smashed his way to the interim title last month. These would surely be enthralling slugfests. Just plug Junior in and butter the popcorn.
Meanwhile, back at the arena, a series of post-fight images began to emerge. They were grotesque, and they were sad. Some showed Dos Santos at the news conference, looking like a bogeyman thanks to his wounds, bandages and shades. One showed ring announcer Bruce Buffer posing exuberantly with the victor, pointing toward the swollen champ, who doesn’t appear to share Buffer’s exuberance.
WHAT A WAR!!! junior_cigano is very happy after his Octagon war with @stipemiocicufc @ufc @ufcfightclub @FOXSports pic.twitter.com/INj8EiLkk7
— Bruce Buffer (@brucebuffer) December 14, 2014
Junior dos Santos is far from the first or last combat athlete to find himself in this position, or get rich and famous from it. And I’m not saying the heavyweight boxer should never fight again or take on another of his fellow knockout artists.
But as Chuck Liddell and other MMA Golden-Agers (not to mention boxers and even pro wrestlers) continue down a public path toward sludgy erraticism and concussion science flows ever faster into the mainstream, maybe it’s time to evolve.
Maybe we could just take it a little slower. Maybe we could take a pause before we blast the top off of another mountain and dig out every last usable resource. Maybe dos Santos and his camp should evolve his game to include things like keeping his hands up. Maybe the UFC should seek matchups and strategies that preserve one of the best and most likable heavyweights in the history of MMA. And maybe fans—myself very much included in this—should define dos Santos’ success and our enjoyment by things other than the volume of blood and brain he leaves inside the Octagon.
Because as awesome as Saturday’s fight was, none of what happened feels sustainable. Maybe it’s not a new message on the whole, but it’s still new for dos Santos. It’s hard to say how many more of these WARS the big guy has left in him, or how many more I have left in me.
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