In a division that is in need of new contenders, the name Ovince Saint Preux carries a little import. Not only has he won back-to-back fights by first round knockout, but he’s gone 6-1 since coming over to the UFC in the Strikeforce purchase. In fact, his only loss in the last three-and-a-half years came against Ryan Bader a year ago in Bangor, Maine.
And as he gets set to fight Glover Teixeira at UFC Fight Night 74 in Nashville, Tenn. on Aug. 8, he thinks that listless loss might have helped him in the long run.
On Monday Saint Preux was a guest on The MMA Hour, and he said that since that time he has figured some things out.
“It actually, the loss actually did me good because I ended up reinventing myself,” he told Ariel Helwani.
“I didn’t feel myself at all [for that fight]. I did not. My training wasn’t going like I wanted. I was BSing through my whole training and stuff. [Bader and I] fought on the same card in Vancouver. From that fight we literally flew into town Sunday, and Monday morning I’m getting a phone call saying that I’m fighting Bader in Bangor. Of course it’s a main event fight, so I’m going to take it.”
Saint Preux said that fight taught him some things about sticking with what works.
“That in itself was a big learning experience,” he said. “I stopped doing everything I was previously doing. I was doing a lot of new stuff for when I fought Bader. So I went back to the basics [afterwards]. I went back to the boxing gym, I got my timing back on and all of that showed when I fought Shogun, my timing was perfect. When I fought Cummins my timing was perfect.”
Saint Preux (18-6) knocked Mauricio Rua out in Brazil in what he says was the highlight of his career so far. He followed that up with a first-round knockout against Patrick Cummins at UFC on FOX 15 in New Jersey. Because every victory he’s had since debuting against Gian Villante at UFC 159 has been a finish, his name was being bandied about a little bit as a title contender.
With new 205-pound champion Daniel Cormier drawing Alexander Gustafsson next, and with Bader riding a four-fight winning streak waiting in the wings, OSP says he still has some work to do to get his shot. But, then again he says you never know.
“You know, the 205-pound division right now is wide open,” he said. “The beauty about the UFC is you don’t have to be in the top…you don’t have to be in the No. 1 contender’s spot to fight for the title. It’s primarily like Dana [White] says, whatever fight the fans want to see, that’s the fight you’re going to get. Even with the fight against Cormier a lot of people were throwing my name out there, and I was like, if the opportunity would have presented itself, I would have took the fight. But at the same time, fans want to see good knockouts, and apparently I’m one of the favorites for knocking people out.”
The 32-year-old former University of Tennessee football player went through a lot of ups and downs early in his MMA career, but some of the downs were because he was taking fights willy-nilly. He began his career with a couple of losses, and he fought three times in three weeks in 2009, a stretch where he went 1-2.
Since that time he has gone 15-2 with against an escalating scale of competition through Strikeforce and eventually the UFC. In fact, he made his Strikeforce debut on a Challengers card in Nashville against Chris Hawk in April 2010 – the card that erupted in a brawl later between Jake Shields’ camp and Jason Miller.
Fast forward five years,and Saint Preux is closing in on a title shot.
He says he thinks that a good showing against Teixeira could potentially catapult him right near the top. Yet even if that’s not the case, he’s in it for the long haul.
“It’s just one of those things where, I get this fight and I think I need one more fight and I should be good,” he said. “Depending how I finish this fight, it might be after this fight. I’m not hoping for anything, but at the same time I just got to go out there and, like I said, I don’t care how long it takes. It could be two years from now. It could be three months from now. I’m definitely working my way up. I’m climbing up that ladder and that’s what I’m going to continue doing.”
In a division that is in need of new contenders, the name Ovince Saint Preux carries a little import. Not only has he won back-to-back fights by first round knockout, but he’s gone 6-1 since coming over to the UFC in the Strikeforce purchase. In fact, his only loss in the last three-and-a-half years came against Ryan Bader a year ago in Bangor, Maine.
And as he gets set to fight Glover Teixeira at UFC Fight Night 74 in Nashville, Tenn. on Aug. 8, he thinks that listless loss might have helped him in the long run.
On Monday Saint Preux was a guest on The MMA Hour, and he said that since that time he has figured some things out.
“It actually, the loss actually did me good because I ended up reinventing myself,” he told Ariel Helwani.
“I didn’t feel myself at all [for that fight]. I did not. My training wasn’t going like I wanted. I was BSing through my whole training and stuff. [Bader and I] fought on the same card in Vancouver. From that fight we literally flew into town Sunday, and Monday morning I’m getting a phone call saying that I’m fighting Bader in Bangor. Of course it’s a main event fight, so I’m going to take it.”
Saint Preux said that fight taught him some things about sticking with what works.
“That in itself was a big learning experience,” he said. “I stopped doing everything I was previously doing. I was doing a lot of new stuff for when I fought Bader. So I went back to the basics [afterwards]. I went back to the boxing gym, I got my timing back on and all of that showed when I fought Shogun, my timing was perfect. When I fought Cummins my timing was perfect.”
Saint Preux (18-6) knocked Mauricio Rua out in Brazil in what he says was the highlight of his career so far. He followed that up with a first-round knockout against Patrick Cummins at UFC on FOX 15 in New Jersey. Because every victory he’s had since debuting against Gian Villante at UFC 159 has been a finish, his name was being bandied about a little bit as a title contender.
With new 205-pound champion Daniel Cormier drawing Alexander Gustafsson next, and with Bader riding a four-fight winning streak waiting in the wings, OSP says he still has some work to do to get his shot. But, then again he says you never know.
“You know, the 205-pound division right now is wide open,” he said. “The beauty about the UFC is you don’t have to be in the top…you don’t have to be in the No. 1 contender’s spot to fight for the title. It’s primarily like Dana [White] says, whatever fight the fans want to see, that’s the fight you’re going to get. Even with the fight against Cormier a lot of people were throwing my name out there, and I was like, if the opportunity would have presented itself, I would have took the fight. But at the same time, fans want to see good knockouts, and apparently I’m one of the favorites for knocking people out.”
The 32-year-old former University of Tennessee football player went through a lot of ups and downs early in his MMA career, but some of the downs were because he was taking fights willy-nilly. He began his career with a couple of losses, and he fought three times in three weeks in 2009, a stretch where he went 1-2.
Since that time he has gone 15-2 with against an escalating scale of competition through Strikeforce and eventually the UFC. In fact, he made his Strikeforce debut on a Challengers card in Nashville against Chris Hawk in April 2010 – the card that erupted in a brawl later between Jake Shields’ camp and Jason Miller.
Fast forward five years,and Saint Preux is closing in on a title shot.
He says he thinks that a good showing against Teixeira could potentially catapult him right near the top. Yet even if that’s not the case, he’s in it for the long haul.
“It’s just one of those things where, I get this fight and I think I need one more fight and I should be good,” he said. “Depending how I finish this fight, it might be after this fight. I’m not hoping for anything, but at the same time I just got to go out there and, like I said, I don’t care how long it takes. It could be two years from now. It could be three months from now. I’m definitely working my way up. I’m climbing up that ladder and that’s what I’m going to continue doing.”
After UFC Fight Night 68 last weekend in New Orleans, which featured 10 finishes in a dozen fights, UFC 188 had a lot to live up to. And judging from the crowd’s reaction to some of the bouts in Mexico City on Saturday night at the Arena Ciu…
After UFC Fight Night 68 last weekend in New Orleans, which featured 10 finishes in a dozen fights, UFC 188 had a lot to live up to. And judging from the crowd’s reaction to some of the bouts in Mexico City on Saturday night at the Arena Ciudad de Mexico, it didn’t come close.
In the post-fight press conference, a media member asked UFC president Dana White what he thought of one of the tougher crowds in recent memory.
“No, no you’re wrong,” he said. “It was an educated crowd. You know how happy that makes me to be in Mexico City, Mexico, and when a guy steps over and gets side control, they cheer? And when they were booing, they deserved to boo. I didn’t disagree with one f—ing boo that happened tonight. When they were booing, [the fighters] deserved to be booed.
“It was a very educated crowd, and a huge moment for us — huge moment for me because I’ve been waiting for so long to get into Mexico. And then when the main event started, there was not one…when this thing sold out, when you talk about a sell out, there’s a lot of times we’ll sell out an arena and there’ll be some single seats left. There wasn’t one single seat left in this arena. Completely sold out. And in the main event, I don’t know if any of you looked around, packed to the rafters and everybody had their lights on. It was awesome, man. It wasn’t a tough crowd, it was an educated crowd. Amazing.”
White reiterated, too, that Mexico has traditionally been a country of boxing fans.
UFC 188 had an announced crowd of more than 20,000 people, many of whom fell silent when Fabricio Werdum upset Cain Velasquez in the main event to become the UFC’s undisputed heavyweight champion.
On a night where the UFC’s title was unified before a packed house in Mexico City, it was the Brazilian Fabricio Werdum that stole the show.
The heavyweight interim champion not only became the first man to submit Cain Velasquez, he got paid…
On a night where the UFC’s title was unified before a packed house in Mexico City, it was the Brazilian Fabricio Werdum that stole the show.
The heavyweight interim champion not only became the first man to submit Cain Velasquez, he got paid an extra $50,000 for his performance in the main event at UFC 188 at the Arena Ciudad de Mexico. Werdum matched Velasquez’s intensity on the feet early, and took him apart late en-route to a third-round guillotine choke.
The 37-year old Werdum received one of two Performance of the Night bonuses handed out in UFC 188’s aftermath. The other went to Patrick Williams, who made quick work of Alejandro Perez during the prelims. Williams landed a big uppercut, and then snatched Perez’s neck in one relentless sequence, ending the fight just 23 seconds in.
The Fight of the Night went to Charles Rosa and Yair Rodriguez, who went three eye-popping back-and-forth rounds on the main card. Rodriguez ended up taking the split decision victory (29-28, 28-29, 29-28), but his showing boosted his stock in the UFC. Showing off his striking and his ability to scramble, Rodriguez upset Florida’s Rosa, who himself went out swinging.
The 22-year old Rodriguez and Rosa each took home $50,000 apiece.
This is the UFC 188 undercard blog for the UFC 188 event at the Arena Ciudad de Mexico in Mexico City on Saturday night.There will be six fights on the UFC 188 undercard. Chico Camus vs. Henry Cejudo, Efrain Escudero vs. Drew Dober, Alejandr…
This is the UFC 188 undercard blog for the UFC 188 event at the Arena Ciudad de Mexico in Mexico City on Saturday night.
Gabriel Benitez vs. Clay Collard Round 1: Mario Yamasaki is your referee for the first fight of UFC 188. Tijuana’s Benitez got a huge pop when he came out. Southpaw Benitz catches Collard right off the bat and drops him! But Collard is tough, he recovers. Low kick from Benitez again brings Collard down. But he bounces back up and swings again. Great start for the Mexican. Some redness on Collard’s chest and around his ribs already. Nice one-two combo followed up by leg kick from Collard. Benitez returns a leg kick right after he changed his stance. Good kick to the body from Benitez, as he continues to lay waste to Collard’s rib cage; now Collard fires a big flurry and blasts Benitez on the cage. Dirty boxing, and oops — big groin shot halts action. Collard came in low, and Benitez is walking it off. BAck at it. Nice counter from Benitez, and he does an inside leg kick on the break. Now Benitez snatches a standing guillotine, and it’s close! But Collard slips out, and now he’s got Benitez’s back. Whoa. Now Collard is going for a rear naked choke of his own, while Benitez (perhaps tired from the adrenaline on that attempt) is fending. Benitez just crawled out, but Collard hanging on. Benitez lands a big elbow to Collard’s face. Now Benitez stands up, and Collard snatches him on the fence, and they toil there. Huge suplex from Collard, and Benitez whiplashes off canvas. Now Benitez gets up, and shoves Collard to the fence. Whoa. They clinch on fence, and exchange knees in close. Round ends. MMA Fighting scores R1 for Benitez, 10-9. Round 2: Crazy first round. Collard to middle, and he dances. Now he circles, as Benitez waves a high kick by his chin. Collard comes in and Benitez lands a nice counter. Inside leg kick again buckles Collard momentarily. Collard having all kinds of trouble timing out his punches. Benitez is the faster fighter so far. Leg kick now from Collard lands, and Benitez rolls out. Body shot from Collard. Big overhand right misses from Benitez, and now he buckles Collard yet again with an inside leg kick. As Collard comes rushing in, Benitez slams another inside kick home. Great game plan by the underdog. He tries the inside leg kick again, but Collard shoots in and takes Benitez down. Knee to the body on the fence, and Benitez gets right back up. Collard with his hands pretty low. Kick to the body hurts Collard, and as Benitez comes in to finish he gets taken down. Collard is on top, but he’s hurt. They get back to their feet. Left hand from Collard lands, and then he eats a low kick. Collard throwing up top, but it’s Benitez who’s the aggressor. Solid left from the pocket from Collard. Tough kid. Overhand left from Collard, and now some blood over Collard’s eye. Leg kicks from Benitez. Looks like the altitude is play hell on Collard’s cardio here. He’s huffing. Might have a rib injury. Round ends. MMA Fighting scores R2 for Benitez, 10-9 (20-18 overall)
There are still plenty of people who call themselves natural born fighters, but usually — particularly in the fight game — that’s just an easy way of justifying an existence in the cage. Not so for Matt Bessette, who brings out hundreds of fans every time he fights in New England. He is closer to literal on the notion than most. He is more than a local attraction. He is a born fighter.
Bessette, who will face Khama Worthy at CES MMA XXIX on Friday night in Lincoln, Rhode Island live on AXS TV, took his first blow just before he turned three years old. He was diagnosed with leukemia. At the time he didn’t realize it was a blow. He just remembers the adults — his family, doctors, strangers conferring in somber voices — processing the severity of what was happening while casting the grayest of hues.
“There was one instance where I had a temperature of around 105 or something like that, and they gave the thermometer,” Bessette says. “And I bit down on it, because I didn’t really understand where I was until after the fact. I remember it clear as day. I started chewing it, breaking the glass, and the doctors were reaching in my mouth to open it so I didn’t swallow the glass and mercury and stuff. It was rough. That was around three years old.”
Bessette’s first memories of this life were of fighting something. By the time he was five, he’d already defeated his first opponent. And by age 12, on a sunny day while walking around the Big Y grocery store in his hometown of Stafford Springs, Connecticut, he was casually informed by his mother that they had hit upon the seven-year anniversary of the feat. It had been seven years since his last blood work came back showing he was free of leukemia. Seven years is typically the magic number when survivors steer clear of the threat of remission.
(Matt Bessette on the right, courtesy of Bessette family)
“I remember she looked at me and said, ‘you’re cured,’” he says. “I was like, that’s awesome.”
These days, a quarter of a century later, he’s fighting easy-to-see grown men as a prizefighter, men who have definitive shapes and sizes, known weaknesses, comprehensible intentions. He loves it. He loves to stand in the pocket and trade, which makes him a fan favorite. He knows he can take what is coming at him, just as he’s got a gut feeling that the other guy can’t.
And all the early turmoil he experienced went into who he’s become.
“It sounds cliché, but everything does,” he says. “A little kid with leukemia who had pins and needles in me all day, with spinal taps and just pain and dealing with the pain and agony. It sucks. But that’s how I started my life off. And I had an older brother, too, who would punch me in the arm, kick me in the leg, and I would deal with it. You’re going to get hit by your older brother. So it was constantly taking punishment throughout my childhood.”
Perhaps all of this plays into the sadistic side of the fighter of today. Bessette, who fought six times in Bellator and participated in the Season 10 featherweight tournament, actually enjoys being punched. He’s of that ilk. He likes the idea of pain. And he gets a little giddy when talking about it. He’s the kind of person who smiles when he takes a good punch because it reminds him that, above all else, he’s alive.
“That’s why I like fighting,” he says. “I like it. Not that I like being hurt…but being hurt isn’t too bad if you compare it to anything else that can happen in your life. If you get hit, who gives a sh*t? So that’s how I’ve always thought about it. Growing up, I had a few best friends who for some reason always thought it was a good idea to punch me in the face. I would take a punch, and they would throw it as hard as they could. It became a kind of game.”
In school, Bessette’s dukes were always up and ready. By the time he got to Stafford High School, he had had dozens of fights on his unofficial record. Not the pick-em kind, but stick-up-for-somebody-being-bullied variety, where he ended up dishing out an intervening version of justice.
His base wasn’t in jiu-jitsu or wrestling, but “toughness,” he says.
“I really loved it,” he says. “The first fight I can remember I was probably in first grade. This kid at summer camp, who was my age, was being picked on by a kid who was a few years older. And I said, stop picking on him. The bigger kid pushed me, so I punched him in the face. And my mom got a call later that day, saying I was punching people in the face, and she said…alright, don’t go punching people in the face. That’s the first time. I’ve been in that situation, situations where I was stopping fights, and the person who was the d—head about it always wanted to fight me. I’ve been in that situation so many times.”
(Bellator)
These days Bessette trains at Underdog Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu in Hartford for his grappling and cage work. That’s been his home gym for half a decade. But his bread and butter is striking. He hones the craft at the Fighting Arts Academy in Springfield, Massachusetts with Nick Newell and Leon Davis. He absorbs every nuance of the striking element, and — though he had no formal training growing up — is mesmerized by the game’s most majestic artists.
“I learn something every time I watch Anderson Silva or Conor McGregor or Jose Aldo,” he says. “Because they’re so dynamic and they bring something to the table that a lot of fighters don’t — and that is their movement. Just phenomenal. It’s not just moving in and moving out, but they change their tempo. They change the pace of the fight. They don’t come at you 100 miles per hour; they come at you 100, then at 30, then at 50, then back to 100. And that [screws] with people.
“The whole time they’re changing levels, they’re changing angles, they’re circling…they’re constantly making the other guy think. Over the last couple of years I’ve incorporated that into my striking, and my striking has gone from pretty decent to what I think is great. Nobody gets the better of me anymore, because I’m constantly making the other guy think. I’m constantly in their head.”
He and Newell — who as a one-armed fighter has had to overcome every stigma and obstacle, as well — have been teammates for five years now. Newell says that the intensity of the sparring with Bessette made him a believer from the early days.
“Matt and I started training together when we were both getting started,” Newell says. “He was a new pro and I was still amateur. I could tell he wanted it back then and hard work pays off. He’s been through a lot in his life and didn’t let it stop him from chasing a dream. Honestly, he inspires me and we enjoy beating the crap out of each other so it works out on many levels.”
In 20 professional fights – including victories over UFC vet Diego Nunes and Jose Aldo’s interpreter Saul Almeida — Bessette has never been knocked out. It’s a literal stat, one that can be found on his Wikipedia page. But it’s also a metaphor for a born fighter who could take a punch going back to his earliest memories.
“My chin is pretty evil,” he says. “I’ve always been good at rolling with punches, as well. Those things combined got me to where I am. Even if somebody throws at 100 percent, I don’t really feel like it at 100 percent. It’s a good combination to have.”
There are still plenty of people who call themselves natural born fighters, but usually — particularly in the fight game — that’s just an easy way of justifying an existence in the cage. Not so for Matt Bessette, who brings out hundreds of fans every time he fights in New England. He is closer to literal on the notion than most. He is more than a local attraction. He is a born fighter.
Bessette, who will face Khama Worthy at CES MMA XXIX on Friday night in Lincoln, Rhode Island live on AXS TV, took his first blow just before he turned three years old. He was diagnosed with leukemia. At the time he didn’t realize it was a blow. He just remembers the adults — his family, doctors, strangers conferring in somber voices — processing the severity of what was happening while casting the grayest of hues.
“There was one instance where I had a temperature of around 105 or something like that, and they gave the thermometer,” Bessette says. “And I bit down on it, because I didn’t really understand where I was until after the fact. I remember it clear as day. I started chewing it, breaking the glass, and the doctors were reaching in my mouth to open it so I didn’t swallow the glass and mercury and stuff. It was rough. That was around three years old.”
Bessette’s first memories of this life were of fighting something. By the time he was five, he’d already defeated his first opponent. And by age 12, on a sunny day while walking around the Big Y grocery store in his hometown of Stafford Springs, Connecticut, he was casually informed by his mother that they had hit upon the seven-year anniversary of the feat. It had been seven years since his last blood work came back showing he was free of leukemia. Seven years is typically the magic number when survivors steer clear of the threat of remission.
(Matt Bessette on the right, courtesy of Bessette family)
“I remember she looked at me and said, ‘you’re cured,’” he says. “I was like, that’s awesome.”
These days, a quarter of a century later, he’s fighting easy-to-see grown men as a prizefighter, men who have definitive shapes and sizes, known weaknesses, comprehensible intentions. He loves it. He loves to stand in the pocket and trade, which makes him a fan favorite. He knows he can take what is coming at him, just as he’s got a gut feeling that the other guy can’t.
And all the early turmoil he experienced went into who he’s become.
“It sounds cliché, but everything does,” he says. “A little kid with leukemia who had pins and needles in me all day, with spinal taps and just pain and dealing with the pain and agony. It sucks. But that’s how I started my life off. And I had an older brother, too, who would punch me in the arm, kick me in the leg, and I would deal with it. You’re going to get hit by your older brother. So it was constantly taking punishment throughout my childhood.”
Perhaps all of this plays into the sadistic side of the fighter of today. Bessette, who fought six times in Bellator and participated in the Season 10 featherweight tournament, actually enjoys being punched. He’s of that ilk. He likes the idea of pain. And he gets a little giddy when talking about it. He’s the kind of person who smiles when he takes a good punch because it reminds him that, above all else, he’s alive.
“That’s why I like fighting,” he says. “I like it. Not that I like being hurt…but being hurt isn’t too bad if you compare it to anything else that can happen in your life. If you get hit, who gives a sh*t? So that’s how I’ve always thought about it. Growing up, I had a few best friends who for some reason always thought it was a good idea to punch me in the face. I would take a punch, and they would throw it as hard as they could. It became a kind of game.”
In school, Bessette’s dukes were always up and ready. By the time he got to Stafford High School, he had had dozens of fights on his unofficial record. Not the pick-em kind, but stick-up-for-somebody-being-bullied variety, where he ended up dishing out an intervening version of justice.
His base wasn’t in jiu-jitsu or wrestling, but “toughness,” he says.
“I really loved it,” he says. “The first fight I can remember I was probably in first grade. This kid at summer camp, who was my age, was being picked on by a kid who was a few years older. And I said, stop picking on him. The bigger kid pushed me, so I punched him in the face. And my mom got a call later that day, saying I was punching people in the face, and she said…alright, don’t go punching people in the face. That’s the first time. I’ve been in that situation, situations where I was stopping fights, and the person who was the d—head about it always wanted to fight me. I’ve been in that situation so many times.”
(Bellator)
These days Bessette trains at Underdog Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu in Hartford for his grappling and cage work. That’s been his home gym for half a decade. But his bread and butter is striking. He hones the craft at the Fighting Arts Academy in Springfield, Massachusetts with Nick Newell and Leon Davis. He absorbs every nuance of the striking element, and — though he had no formal training growing up — is mesmerized by the game’s most majestic artists.
“I learn something every time I watch Anderson Silva or Conor McGregor or Jose Aldo,” he says. “Because they’re so dynamic and they bring something to the table that a lot of fighters don’t — and that is their movement. Just phenomenal. It’s not just moving in and moving out, but they change their tempo. They change the pace of the fight. They don’t come at you 100 miles per hour; they come at you 100, then at 30, then at 50, then back to 100. And that [screws] with people.
“The whole time they’re changing levels, they’re changing angles, they’re circling…they’re constantly making the other guy think. Over the last couple of years I’ve incorporated that into my striking, and my striking has gone from pretty decent to what I think is great. Nobody gets the better of me anymore, because I’m constantly making the other guy think. I’m constantly in their head.”
He and Newell — who as a one-armed fighter has had to overcome every stigma and obstacle, as well — have been teammates for five years now. Newell says that the intensity of the sparring with Bessette made him a believer from the early days.
“Matt and I started training together when we were both getting started,” Newell says. “He was a new pro and I was still amateur. I could tell he wanted it back then and hard work pays off. He’s been through a lot in his life and didn’t let it stop him from chasing a dream. Honestly, he inspires me and we enjoy beating the crap out of each other so it works out on many levels.”
In 20 professional fights – including victories over UFC vet Diego Nunes and Jose Aldo’s interpreter Saul Almeida — Bessette has never been knocked out. It’s a literal stat, one that can be found on his Wikipedia page. But it’s also a metaphor for a born fighter who could take a punch going back to his earliest memories.
“My chin is pretty evil,” he says. “I’ve always been good at rolling with punches, as well. Those things combined got me to where I am. Even if somebody throws at 100 percent, I don’t really feel like it at 100 percent. It’s a good combination to have.”
In the original Red Dawn, a John Milius film about a hostile Russian takeover of American soil that came out in 1984, the father figure, played by Harry Dean Stanton, makes a plea to his sons (and his son’s friend) while held in Soviet captivity.
“Boys!,” he yells from the inside of a commandeered drive-in movie theater-turned-concentration camp. “Avenge me! Avenge me!” He is then escorted back to whatever untold torture awaits him, while the boys arm themselves and form the “Wolverines,” a guerilla collective that goes about foiling the Soviet interlopers via real-time war instincts and teenage cunning. Against what might be considered insurmountable odds, they avenge the old man.
At the time it was all very believable. The father-son bond, the story told us, was stronger than the reddest army.
What’s happening at the Androscoggin Bank Colisée at “NEF XVIII: Made in America” this weekend in Maine is interconnected, although in a roundabout way. Only, this time it’s non-fiction and slightly less dramatic — instead of the boys avenging the father, it’s the other way around. It’s the father who is avenging his son. Forget about the coincidental fact that it was Milius who invented the original Octagon in the early-1990s, Steve Bang Sr. watched his 22-year-old son Steve Bang Jr. lose to a 50-year old man named Pat Kelly via TKO in just such a cage last November at New England Fights XV.
That sort of thing stings. It stung Bang Sr. into action.
On Saturday, Bang Sr., 45, will try to set things right against Kelly in Lewiston, Maine — at the same venue that Muhammad Ali beat Sonny Liston via the “Phantom Punch” in 1965 when Kelly was in his first year of life. It will go down as an amateur mixed martial arts fight, which in essence stands for “an exhibition.” But they will throw real punches, with real intent, at ages that defy common sense. They will meet at an agreed upon weight of 160 pounds. Bang Sr. is doing what he has to do for Bang Jr.
Pat Kelly lands a punch against Steven Bang Jr. in November.(LMP Photo)
As a proactive father, he is avenging his son’s loss.
“I had been chomping at the bit, waiting for the right time for everything to line up,” says Dr. Bang, who in his daytime gig works as a bariatric surgeon. “All of a sudden I was watching that fight and I realized that right now is the right time, there won’t be any better time than now. I thought, what better than to enter the ring against the man who just beat my son? So as I was watching that fight I was thinking that. A couple of days later I contacted the promoter, Matt Peterson, and I said how about this — father seeks to avenge son’s loss in the ring?”
And so here we are, with a fun little narrative about a father, a son and a man traipsing through their generational gap.
Dr. Bang, who turns 46 the Monday after his fight, has one amateur bout to his name. He won it, and it gave him a taste for more. He has four sons in various stages of their own MMA careers — Steven Bang Jr. (whom he is avenging), Sheldon Bang (2-2), Shawn Bang (1-1), and Skylar Bang (the baby Bang who is about to get started). He is an endurance athlete on the side, who competes in the Ironman triathlon.
He’s not so much a middle-aged adventure seeker as he is a guy who is going back to his roots. Dr. Bang wrestled at Palm Springs High School back in the 1980s. He then walked on with the Brigham Young University wrestling team and enjoyed a fine run on the mats under the direction of Mark Schultz, who was an assistant coach at the time. After suffering a broken ankle, he left on a two-year mission.
Back in those days, wrestling was a dead-end sport. So he gave over to his studies, and ended up a respected surgeon in Lewiston, where every year at Christmas he turns his house into a psychedelic winter wonderland that draws thousands of spectators (and the ire of his neighbors).
“I often say on the night of the fight I put my Hippocratic Oath away,” he says. “I just kind of file it away. Can’t have an oath to do no harm — on fight night I’m looking to do some harm. At the same time, I don’t find it too much of a contrast. It’s all part of life, and it’s how I view life in general. And even getting into the ring and putting myself out there with the background I have and the education that I have and what I do for a living, it’s high risk. I don’t take that lightly. I am acutely aware of the stakes getting into the cage. I well past my years of perceived invincibility that usually accompanies youth.”
What Dr. Bang will encounter on Saturday night is another former collegiate wrestler in Pat Kelly, a spry quinquagenarian whom Dr. Bang refers to as a “Goliath.” Kelly wrestled at the University of Maine at Orono back when it had a Division 1 program. He’s a biology teacher these days at Camden Hills Regional High School in Rockport, Maine, where he’s also acted as the wrestling coach for the last two decades. It was Kelly who coached UFC veteran Tim Boetsch to four state championships at the school when it was known as Camden Rockport High School.
You wouldn’t know that Kelly was responsible for so much cauliflower ear to hear him talk, especially when he gets to remembering how asinine it actually is to fight in a locked cage at any age, much less the one attached to him.
“Sometimes I go, geez, I was locked in a cage with a guy who wanted to kick the crap out of me and it didn’t happen,” Kelly says. “At my age I’m not worried about anybody. I’m just an amateur. It didn’t matter if it was against Dr. Bang or otherwise. I’m not one of the younger guys who wants to build an ammy record and then go pro. I just want to be an advocate for this sport and for the lifestyle behind it, and the focus within it, and the outcome of it. That’s my message. You can start wherever you’re at and start getting in shape.”
Dr. Bang looks to avenge his son.(LMP Photo)
Both Dr. Bang and Kelly are in fantastic shape. Both are smart, well-respected men in their chosen fields. Yet for whatever reason the call of the cage became too strong for them to ignore. When most people feel like reclining into life’s soft middle, they felt like slugging it out in front of a paying audience.
“The way I look at it is…we’re two older guys trying to hang on with one hand, and let go with the other,” Kelly says. “We can’t quite let go, we can’t quite hang on as far as the competitive aspect.”
Kelly trains at Young’s MMA, which is an hour-and-a-half commute each way for him in Bangor. Dr. Bang trains at Central Maine Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (CMBJJ). Kelly says MMA drives him “to the edge of his personality.” Dr. Bang says fighting represents “the pinnacle of putting yourself out there.” Kelly imparts wisdom (“Train smarter not harder at 51”), while Dr. Bang throws out parables (“The idea is to push the pace and wear him down; fatigue makes cowards of all men”).
The trash talk between the two waffles between indifference and outright veneration.
The odd man out in the scenario is Bang Jr., who — on the surface, anyway — has the dubious distinction of having to have his father come in and settle a score for him. A loss to 50-year-old man is one hell of a thing to build hype around. But Dr. Bang raised his kids to be humble competitors. Bang Jr. doesn’t mind the set-up.
“I’m definitely down for it,” says the junior Bang. “Obviously the ‘avenge my loss’ thing publicizes the loss. But I have a level head, and I know people embellish a bit. I know what happened in that fight, and I did lose. I don’t take it personally, and I think it’s awesome that dad wanted to step in with a guy with a similar background as him, and an older guy. I think it’s a perfect fight for him.”
Kelly, who is anything but braggadocio, says he thinks Bang Jr. might have taken too much for granted heading into their big showcase fight in November, and that he doesn’t mind facing back-to-back Bangs.
“I love it,” he says. “Why wouldn’t he want to avenge his son’s loss? I’m a father of four, I can imagine sitting ringside and being a dad and watching my little boy wrestle and lose. You’ve got to find a motivation…if I didn’t beat his son, I’m just another old guy. To be honest, his son probably came in a little underestimating me, a little soft. I don’t look at this as if I win I’m better. I look at this is, thank you for the opportunity.”
There’s a lot of mutual respect heading into “NEF XVIII: Made in America” by the principals in play. Ninety-seven years of back-story go into a fight that won’t count on anybody’s record. It’s a family thing. It’s a pride thing. It’s an act of defiance by two guys who still have something in them to prove.
“It wasn’t like, ‘that guy’s beating my son, I’m going to kill him!’” Dr. Bang insists. “It wasn’t that by any means. More so it was I could see what Steven needed to do to beat him and I think that he should have.
“Another way that I’m looking at this whole thing, we have very strong family bonds, and I’m looking at this as I already have a loss against Pat. So I’m looking to take that back. I am looking to avenge that.”
In the original Red Dawn, a John Milius film about a hostile Russian takeover of American soil that came out in 1984, the father figure, played by Harry Dean Stanton, makes a plea to his sons (and his son’s friend) while held in Soviet captivity.
“Boys!,” he yells from the inside of a commandeered drive-in movie theater-turned-concentration camp. “Avenge me! Avenge me!” He is then escorted back to whatever untold torture awaits him, while the boys arm themselves and form the “Wolverines,” a guerilla collective that goes about foiling the Soviet interlopers via real-time war instincts and teenage cunning. Against what might be considered insurmountable odds, they avenge the old man.
At the time it was all very believable. The father-son bond, the story told us, was stronger than the reddest army.
What’s happening at the Androscoggin Bank Colisée at “NEF XVIII: Made in America” this weekend in Maine is interconnected, although in a roundabout way. Only, this time it’s non-fiction and slightly less dramatic — instead of the boys avenging the father, it’s the other way around. It’s the father who is avenging his son. Forget about the coincidental fact that it was Milius who invented the original Octagon in the early-1990s, Steve Bang Sr. watched his 22-year-old son Steve Bang Jr. lose to a 50-year old man named Pat Kelly via TKO in just such a cage last November at New England Fights XV.
That sort of thing stings. It stung Bang Sr. into action.
On Saturday, Bang Sr., 45, will try to set things right against Kelly in Lewiston, Maine — at the same venue that Muhammad Ali beat Sonny Liston via the “Phantom Punch” in 1965 when Kelly was in his first year of life. It will go down as an amateur mixed martial arts fight, which in essence stands for “an exhibition.” But they will throw real punches, with real intent, at ages that defy common sense. They will meet at an agreed upon weight of 160 pounds. Bang Sr. is doing what he has to do for Bang Jr.
Pat Kelly lands a punch against Steven Bang Jr. in November.(LMP Photo)
As a proactive father, he is avenging his son’s loss.
“I had been chomping at the bit, waiting for the right time for everything to line up,” says Dr. Bang, who in his daytime gig works as a bariatric surgeon. “All of a sudden I was watching that fight and I realized that right now is the right time, there won’t be any better time than now. I thought, what better than to enter the ring against the man who just beat my son? So as I was watching that fight I was thinking that. A couple of days later I contacted the promoter, Matt Peterson, and I said how about this — father seeks to avenge son’s loss in the ring?”
And so here we are, with a fun little narrative about a father, a son and a man traipsing through their generational gap.
Dr. Bang, who turns 46 the Monday after his fight, has one amateur bout to his name. He won it, and it gave him a taste for more. He has four sons in various stages of their own MMA careers — Steven Bang Jr. (whom he is avenging), Sheldon Bang (2-2), Shawn Bang (1-1), and Skylar Bang (the baby Bang who is about to get started). He is an endurance athlete on the side, who competes in the Ironman triathlon.
He’s not so much a middle-aged adventure seeker as he is a guy who is going back to his roots. Dr. Bang wrestled at Palm Springs High School back in the 1980s. He then walked on with the Brigham Young University wrestling team and enjoyed a fine run on the mats under the direction of Mark Schultz, who was an assistant coach at the time. After suffering a broken ankle, he left on a two-year mission.
Back in those days, wrestling was a dead-end sport. So he gave over to his studies, and ended up a respected surgeon in Lewiston, where every year at Christmas he turns his house into a psychedelic winter wonderland that draws thousands of spectators (and the ire of his neighbors).
“I often say on the night of the fight I put my Hippocratic Oath away,” he says. “I just kind of file it away. Can’t have an oath to do no harm — on fight night I’m looking to do some harm. At the same time, I don’t find it too much of a contrast. It’s all part of life, and it’s how I view life in general. And even getting into the ring and putting myself out there with the background I have and the education that I have and what I do for a living, it’s high risk. I don’t take that lightly. I am acutely aware of the stakes getting into the cage. I well past my years of perceived invincibility that usually accompanies youth.”
What Dr. Bang will encounter on Saturday night is another former collegiate wrestler in Pat Kelly, a spry quinquagenarian whom Dr. Bang refers to as a “Goliath.” Kelly wrestled at the University of Maine at Orono back when it had a Division 1 program. He’s a biology teacher these days at Camden Hills Regional High School in Rockport, Maine, where he’s also acted as the wrestling coach for the last two decades. It was Kelly who coached UFC veteran Tim Boetsch to four state championships at the school when it was known as Camden Rockport High School.
You wouldn’t know that Kelly was responsible for so much cauliflower ear to hear him talk, especially when he gets to remembering how asinine it actually is to fight in a locked cage at any age, much less the one attached to him.
“Sometimes I go, geez, I was locked in a cage with a guy who wanted to kick the crap out of me and it didn’t happen,” Kelly says. “At my age I’m not worried about anybody. I’m just an amateur. It didn’t matter if it was against Dr. Bang or otherwise. I’m not one of the younger guys who wants to build an ammy record and then go pro. I just want to be an advocate for this sport and for the lifestyle behind it, and the focus within it, and the outcome of it. That’s my message. You can start wherever you’re at and start getting in shape.”
Dr. Bang looks to avenge his son.(LMP Photo)
Both Dr. Bang and Kelly are in fantastic shape. Both are smart, well-respected men in their chosen fields. Yet for whatever reason the call of the cage became too strong for them to ignore. When most people feel like reclining into life’s soft middle, they felt like slugging it out in front of a paying audience.
“The way I look at it is…we’re two older guys trying to hang on with one hand, and let go with the other,” Kelly says. “We can’t quite let go, we can’t quite hang on as far as the competitive aspect.”
Kelly trains at Young’s MMA, which is an hour-and-a-half commute each way for him in Bangor. Dr. Bang trains at Central Maine Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (CMBJJ). Kelly says MMA drives him “to the edge of his personality.” Dr. Bang says fighting represents “the pinnacle of putting yourself out there.” Kelly imparts wisdom (“Train smarter not harder at 51”), while Dr. Bang throws out parables (“The idea is to push the pace and wear him down; fatigue makes cowards of all men”).
The trash talk between the two waffles between indifference and outright veneration.
The odd man out in the scenario is Bang Jr., who — on the surface, anyway — has the dubious distinction of having to have his father come in and settle a score for him. A loss to 50-year-old man is one hell of a thing to build hype around. But Dr. Bang raised his kids to be humble competitors. Bang Jr. doesn’t mind the set-up.
“I’m definitely down for it,” says the junior Bang. “Obviously the ‘avenge my loss’ thing publicizes the loss. But I have a level head, and I know people embellish a bit. I know what happened in that fight, and I did lose. I don’t take it personally, and I think it’s awesome that dad wanted to step in with a guy with a similar background as him, and an older guy. I think it’s a perfect fight for him.”
Kelly, who is anything but braggadocio, says he thinks Bang Jr. might have taken too much for granted heading into their big showcase fight in November, and that he doesn’t mind facing back-to-back Bangs.
“I love it,” he says. “Why wouldn’t he want to avenge his son’s loss? I’m a father of four, I can imagine sitting ringside and being a dad and watching my little boy wrestle and lose. You’ve got to find a motivation…if I didn’t beat his son, I’m just another old guy. To be honest, his son probably came in a little underestimating me, a little soft. I don’t look at this as if I win I’m better. I look at this is, thank you for the opportunity.”
There’s a lot of mutual respect heading into “NEF XVIII: Made in America” by the principals in play. Ninety-seven years of back-story go into a fight that won’t count on anybody’s record. It’s a family thing. It’s a pride thing. It’s an act of defiance by two guys who still have something in them to prove.
“It wasn’t like, ‘that guy’s beating my son, I’m going to kill him!’” Dr. Bang insists. “It wasn’t that by any means. More so it was I could see what Steven needed to do to beat him and I think that he should have.
“Another way that I’m looking at this whole thing, we have very strong family bonds, and I’m looking at this as I already have a loss against Pat. So I’m looking to take that back. I am looking to avenge that.”
