Michael “The Count” Bisping vs. Brian “The All American” Stann has all the makings of an absolutely electric encounter. Even if the Brit’s reasons for doing so were guided by ego more than anything else, you can almost und…
Michael “The Count” Bisping vs. Brian “The All American” Stann has all the makings of an absolutely electric encounter.
Even if the Brit’s reasons for doing so were guided by ego more than anything else, you can almost understand his claim that this is the true co-main event—that oh so prestigious spot on the main card.
With that in mind, here are five reasons why you missing this fight would be ill-advised.
Rare is the champion who can hold onto the UFC’s light heavyweight title for an extended period of time. Indeed, most have fallen at the opening hurdle. However, Jon “Bones” Jones has fended off challengers with all the difficulty of …
Rare is the champion who can hold onto the UFC’s light heavyweight title for an extended period of time. Indeed, most have fallen at the opening hurdle. However, Jon “Bones” Jones has fended off challengers with all the difficulty of a man swatting some mildly irritating flies.
Given his serene progress to date, one wonders exactly how long the divisive 25-year-old will be able to hold onto the 205-pound strap. On current evidence, the answer would appear to be: “For as long as he feels like it.”
His biggest test to date came against LyotoMachida, who managed to—wait for it—land a couple of solid counters and arguably take the opening round. Unfortunately for the urine-loving Brazilian, Jones woke up, figuratively speaking, in the second round and put Machida to sleep, quite literally.
It is fair to say that Jones has not really been tested since, bizarrely, Stephan Bonnar trudged forward for three rounds—in between being ragdolled—and took everything the former JUCO national champion wrestler could throw at him.
Realistically, who is left for Jones to beat up at light heavyweight—I mean, besides VitorBelfort? Well, “Shogun” eventually wants another crack at the kid who beat him up, gave him a wedgie and stuffed him in a figurative school locker.
But if you have been listening to Dana White’s frequent diatribes over the past few months, you may have noticed that he isn’t too keen on “Shogun” right now. Indeed, he’s just below Jones on the UFC President’s, ahem, hitlist ever since he turned down a fight with Glover Teixeira.
Speaking of Teixeira, he could be a legitimate threat to “Bones” in the future, assuming he ever gets to fight someone on the UFC roster who boasts some sort of profile. Similarly, Alexander Gustafsson could present problems down the line, given his height and athleticism.
Unfortunately, both would appear to be some way down the pecking order—a bit of a mystery in Gustafsson’s case.
The only real obstacle to Jon Jones’ potentially indefinite reign as 205-pound king would be a bout with Daniel Cormier, who has expressed some interest in dropping down in weight if Cain Velasquez is able to redeem himself against Junior dos Santos.
Now, that would be an intriguing bout. An Olympic-caliber wrestler with quite outstanding MMA boxing is bound to be a threat to anyone in either of the UFC’s heaviest divisions. That includes the seemingly unflappable Jones, who has only ever had his back on the mat voluntarily.
As already stated, though, there is still some doubt as to whether this fight will even take place. Heck, Jones may decide to just move up to heavyweight if/when he breaks Tito Ortiz’s title defence record and allow the also-rans to fight over the 205-pound belt.
One thing is for sure, if challengers continue to be dismissed with comical ease, fight venues may need to widen the entrances just so Jones’ head can fight through the door.
Ronda Rousey is a potential crossover star—of that there is no doubt. She is attractive, athletic, fights like a T-X Terminator and has a fetish for severed arms. However, when a fighter reaches a certain level of notoriety, there is always the d…
Ronda Rousey is a potential crossover star—of that there is no doubt. She is attractive, athletic, fights like a T-X Terminator and has a fetish for severed arms. However, when a fighter reaches a certain level of notoriety, there is always the danger of them buying into their own hype.
On a recent episode of the MMA Hour, the former Olympic bronze medalist provided a few quotes that would have delighted her most vocal detractors. On a potential bout with Cristiane “Cyborg” Santos, she had the following to say:
I think if it was done right and it was done correctly, you could have people watching that fight that have never seen a single MMA fight before. Lots of them. I think it could be the biggest MMA fight of all-time.
Perhaps sensing that her assertion hadn’t been taken seriously, the Strikeforce bantamweight champ gritted her teeth and doubled down on her claim:
I’m serious. Think about it. Every MMA fan will watch, and a whole bunch of other people that aren’t even the least bit interested in MMA would watch. That’s the kind of demographic that fight could reach to that none of the men can right now.
That’s a bold statement. In fact, there are several bold statements contained within her hubristic rant on Ariel Helwani’s show.
Rousey may draw viewers, but she must realise that she operates within the world of women’s MMA, which is still in its infancy in the developmental sense. One need only look at the ratings in order to gain a sense of perspective.
Obviously the latter boasted the two biggest stars in WMMA at the time and a fight between Rousey and Santos would likely surpass those numbers. But it wouldn’t be by much and it certainly wouldn’t be on the same scale as, say, UFC 100 or UFC 148.
In order for Rousey to legitimately become the biggest thing in MMA since Brock Lesnar, she needs a lot more high level competition. As compelling as a bout with “Cyborg” is, Ronda exists in a talent starved section of the sport.
MMA fans demand stakes if they are going to invest their time in your product. That means that they want to tune into fights with implications that go beyond what happens on that particular night. Where does Rousey go after (if) she takes “Cyborg’s” arm home and puts it on her mantelpiece?
Options are limited for the women’s 135-pound queen. There is the potential of a fight with Sara McMann, which is mouth-watering for the hardcore fans: two Olympic medalists going head to head. Unfortunately, McMann has no profile and the fight is unlikely to draw the kind of numbers it deserves to.
With such slim pickings at the top of WMMA, Rousey would be well advised to use Jon Jones as a cautionary tale and tone down some of her rhetoric. If there is one thing MMA fans do not like, it is a fighter who gets too full of themselves too fast.
History tells us that the fanbase will not hesitate to smack a fighter back down to reality. And Ronda Rousey is currently walking that particular tightrope.
With all of the UFC’s current issues with injuries and withdrawals, one wonders whether it might be worth adding an unsafe act clause to future fighter contracts. As I pointed out yesterday, fighters are already gambling with their health by enga…
With all of the UFC’s current issues with injuries and withdrawals, one wonders whether it might be worth adding an unsafe act clause to future fighter contracts.
As I pointed out yesterday, fighters are already gambling with their health by engaging in unsafe training practices. Do we really need to worry about whether they are speeding down the motorway on a death machine—more commonly known as a motorcycle?
People have occasionally joked about the sheer silliness of the UFC’s decision to hand out motorbikes as a prize to its fighters, but Jose Aldo turned that particular punchline on its head recently.
While riding his motorcycle in Brazil two weeks ago, the featherweight king was hit by a car. Fortunately, he escaped with relatively minor injuries—though perhaps not as minor as we first thought.
The news coming out of his camp in the days that followed the accident was positive. The main concern was a swollen foot, but by all accounts it was healing fast. Not too long afterwards, however, news filtered through that Aldo’s injured foot would prevent him from taking on Frankie Edgar.
Wasn’t Frank Mir’s horrific motorcycle accident sufficiently harrowing? It almost cost the then heavyweight champion his career, while simultaneously sending his personal life into a tailspin.
Naturally, fighters must accept some personal responsibility for their actions. They are the ones who make the decisions, after all.
With that said, Dana White and Co. would be wise to take care of their assets. I am not normally one who speaks out against personal autonomy, but the athletes do have a responsibility to their employers.
If they cannot meet those responsibilities, one could argue that they should be stripped of certain dangerous privileges. How exactly this would be implemented is another question entirely.
Harley Davidson wouldn’t be thrilled about any decision by the UFC to ban its fighters from riding motorcycles. For one thing, it would make a mockery of the oft-heard “only motorcycles worthy of being in the Octagon” line.
However, the UFC may need to follow the lead of other sporting bodies that have not only banned certain extracurricular activities, but taken a hard-line stance against other seemingly benign hobbies.
Indeed, many of the more valuable soccer players in the English Premier League have been banned from engaging in sporting activities while off the clock.
The UFC needn’t go that far, but if its fighters won’t make responsible decisions of their own volition while training for a fight, maybe they need to be contractually obligated to use some common sense.
At the risk of taking back everything I have just said, we must recognize that this issue isn’t pervasive. I mean, we’re not talking about the cast of TheFast and the Furious here. There is no motorcycle epidemic, thankfully.
A more pressing issue is the unsafe training methods employed by many fighters on the UFC roster. Addressing that particularly virulent problem should be the UFC’s top priority.
Maybe once the fighters have learned to train with some degree of caution, we can then focus on dangerous methods of transportation.
Much has been made of the UFC’s “injury epidemic” over the past several months, but it has occurred to me that their plight could more accurately be described as a “withdrawal epidemic”. This distinction goes beyond mere s…
Much has been made of the UFC’s “injury epidemic” over the past several months, but it has occurred to me that their plight could more accurately be described as a “withdrawal epidemic”.
This distinction goes beyond mere semantics. The former suggests that the injury rate has risen substantially, which is a reasonable assumption to make. Unfortunately, this overlooks the role played by the UFC’s fighter insurance policy, a perspective that so many find unpalatable.
The level of discourse on this particular topic has been substandard, to say the least. Indeed, one gets the impression that the majority of MMA journalists are in principle opposed to the notion that fighter insurance could in any sense be the reason why so many fighters are pulling the figurative ripcord.
They seem to think that an acknowledgement of the argument’s legitimacy would, by implication, mean that calls would soon be made to strip the athletes of their right to some sort of health coverage. Again, this is a conflation of two distinct issues: injuries and withdrawals.
Injuries, not withdrawals, are the problem the UFC is faced with. The implementation of fighter insurance simply offers athletes the financial freedom to fight at their physical peak, rather than pressuring them to compete while under the burden of impending healthcare costs.
Those amongst you with a little philosophical training will doubtless be screaming, “Occam’s razor, homie. Why you gotta go and complicate the issue?”
At the risk of strawmanning you folks, this is about the level of debate I am often faced with when I present the fighter insurance argument. It is either dismissed out of hand with extreme prejudice or I am offered a profoundly unsophisticated rebuttal that amounts to little more than a non sequitur.
The stock reply goes something like this:
“If fighters don’t compete, then they don’t get paid; ergo, there is no benefit to withdrawing from a fight due to injury.”
“The thing about the fighter insurance is that it’s not some golden ticket. It’s not like you get paid your show and win money for sitting on the couch with an ice pack on your knee. It’s not as if these guys are going in for elective surgery.”
This kind of response misses the point. Consider, if you will, the climate that existed prior to the UFC’s decision to insure their fighters. Most of their athletes did not have the luxury—a term I hesitate to use in this context—of being able to pull out of a fight.
If a fighter was carrying an injury, he oftentimes needed that paycheque in order to cover the costs of his surgery or his rehab. As a shank-wielding Jon Jones stood over the bloody corpse of UFC 151 (R.I.P.), we all witnessed the undercard fighters expressing the extent to which they rely on their show money to simply get by.
Imagine those same fighters having to fork over their savings to pay for surgery. Am I the only one who thinks that many of them competed injured in order to alleviate that kind of financial burden?
The simplistic rebuttal, outlined above, also seems to disregard the long term goals of your average UFC fighter. There is more to consider than earning a single paycheque, particularly when you don’t have to worry about picking up the tab when you visit the hospital.
Sure, you don’t get paid unless you fight. However, you are also risking your spot on the roster every time you compete far below your physical potential. You are putting your long term employment on the line all in an effort to pocket a few thousand dollars, and maybe some bonus money if you luck out.
To disregard these factors is to fail to reason honestly about the broader benefits of fighter insurance. Conceding that the UFC’s athletes may be more willing to withdraw from a scheduled bout is not akin to identifying fighter insurance as a problem.
On the contrary, it is very much a good thing that the UFC has unburdened its roster, and not just because healthcare should be a right rather than a privilege. It has also exposed the fundamentally flawed nature of modern MMA training and its bafflinglycounterintuitive “train as you mean to fight” philosophy.
If the case I have made is not sufficiently compelling, simply ask yourself why Bellator are not dealing with a withdrawal epidemic. Answers on a postcard, please.
UFC 153 has undergone a figurative facelift over the past 48 hours. Indeed, one could say that it has also been subjected to a tummy tuck, rhinoplasty and a bit of liposuction for good measure. And what do you know? The MMA fan base sure ain’t ha…
UFC 153 has undergone a figurative faceliftover the past 48 hours. Indeed, one could say that it has also been subjected to a tummy tuck, rhinoplasty and a bit of liposuction for good measure. And what do you know? The MMA fan base sure ain’t happy about it.
MMA fans rarely find themselves without cause to complain. The UFC cancels a card? Mewl incessantly about it—perhaps with some justification in the aforementioned case. The UFC attempts to scrape together a main card in lieu of scrapping an entire event? Whine about the quality of the substitute show.
Much of the fans’ ire has been directed at UFC 153’s new main event, pitting P4P king Anderson Silva against perennial mid-carder Stephan Bonnar.
One can understand their point to some extent, but only until one realises that the UFC’s options were limited. More importantly, however, careful contemplation of the main event and what it offers is sufficient to catalyse a degree of intrigue.
As I argued some time ago, Stephan Bonnar is possibly the most robust fighter on the UFC roster. He has never been so much as rocked in a fight, let alone knocked out or forced into the dreaded “turtle” position.
Anderson Silva, on the other hand, is frequently hailed for his innumerable talents inside the cage, but rarely do we focus on the kind of bone-breaking power he so routinely exhibits. He may very well be the most explosive puncher, pound-for-pound, in MMA.
The drama in this fight will not centre on who comes out with the win—expect to see pigs flying over Rio if Bonnar somehow prevails. No, the main storyline here is of a fan-favourite, with legendary durability, attempting to go the distance with the champ.
It’s as though Joe Silva stepped aside and allowed Sylvester Stallone to put together the main event. Indeed, not since Rocky and Raging Bull has so much intrigue rested on whether a fighter can somehow manage to stay on his feet and/or go the distance.
This contest may not be competitive, but come on, folks—we all love an underdog story. And is there a more durable, lovable underdog than Stephan Bonnar?