In mixed martial arts we have a bad tendency to write our narratives in stone, preferring pen even in the early stages of a fighter’s career when a pencil would probably be a better choice. Oft-injured UFC champion Cain Velasquez is the perfect example…
In mixed martial arts we have a bad tendency to write our narratives in stone, preferring pen even in the early stages of a fighter’s career when a pencil would probably be a better choice. Oft-injured UFC champion Cain Velasquez is the perfect example.
It seemed likely that Velasquez would become the best heavyweight fighter of all time. He ran through living legend Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira like an out-of-control bus, finished champion Brock Lesnar with a flurry of punches and put the kind of sustained hurting on poor Junior dos Santos that you might only see once in a lifetime.
Every tool was there—work ethic, athleticism, will and a multitude of skill. It felt right to proclaim him the greatest of all time. So, collectively, many did, leapfrogging Nogueira, Randy Couture and even the great FedorEmelianenko in a rush to glory.
But a funny thing happened on the way to the Hall of Fame. First, Cain’s rotator cuff gave out on him, not once, but twice. His knee, seemingly, has followed suit, forcing him to withdraw from his UFC 180 defense against Fabricio Werdum on November 15 in Mexico City.
In eight years as a professional, his body has held up long enough to get through just 14 prizefights. It’s a minor tragedy.
Velasquez, when history is written, might end up being a “what might have been story,” a fighter with the potential, but not the longevity, for immortality, Gale Sayers rather than Walter Payton.
Conversely, just as we’re too quick to crown kings, we’re too fast on the trigger when it’s time to proclaim a fighter’s career has run its course. MMA is a sport of instant hot takes. No one simply loses. They are exposed. A fighter doesn’t get knocked out. His glass jaw is revealed. We build them, sometimes it seems, simply to knock them back to Earth.
Here the example is Mark Hunt, the man who will step into Velasquez’s shoes and fight Werdum for the interim championship. The former K-1 kickboxing champion was such a non-entity when Zuffa bought the Pride Fighting Championships that the UFC brass wanted to buy him out of his contract rather than fly him in to fight.
“I told him, ‘Look man, we’ll pay you what we owe you for the rest of the contract and go ahead and do your thing,'” UFC President Dana White told Yahoo’s Kevin Iole. “But he got so mad when I said that. ‘[Expletive] you! [Expletive] you! I’m not doing that. I’m fighting.'” And look at him. It turns out that in the long run, he was right and we were wrong. He’s earned 10 times what he’d have made if we’d just paid him off and here he is fighting for the title.”
And, here’s the thing—who could blame White for not wanting anything to do with him? Already 36 years old, Hunt was coming off five consecutive losses, including defeats at the hands of middleweights Melvin Manhoef and GegardMousasi. These weren’t just any losses either. For the most part, even against men he massively outweighed, he never even looked competitive.
For Hunt, MMA was a work in progress when Zuffa came calling. His kickboxing reputation made him an attractive target for MMA promoters who didn‘t exactly provide him a sensible progression or an opportunity to get his feet wet in the new sport, matching him first with Olympic gold medalist HidehikoYoshida and following the judoka with a series of the sport’s very best.
“I was offered $250,000 for my first fight with PRIDE. I didn’t know what the sport was, I just wanted a different challenge,” Hunt told New Zealand’s 2on4 Sports. “I said these ground fighters are mud, they’re idiots. Like girls rolling around. But I got taught a big, big lesson.”
Despite his lackluster resume, Hunt talked his way into the UFC. Triumph, unfortunately, was not immediate. The road to championship glory started with another speed bump. His first UFC fight, too, was typical Hunt. Scheduled in an untelevised prelim, the legendary striker was forced to jerk the curtain at UFC 119 in an embarrassing loss to Sean McCorkle, a better internet troll than he was a fighter.
Hunt was forced to submit to a straight armbar, the kind of submission hold that isn’t supposed to work in professional mixed martial arts. Against Hunt, however, it was all too effective, ending his night in just over a minute.
Something happened, however, on the path to oblivion. In his next fight, the last guaranteed on the contract the UFC inherited, he knocked out Brock Lesnar‘s training partner, Chris Tuchscherer, earning himself a reprieve. A decision over Ben Rothwell and a knockout of Cheick Kongo followed and then a shot for the ages—a walk-away knockout win over Stefan Struve.
After the fight everyone was amused, but not everyone was sold. Bloody Elbow’s T.P. Grant applauded Hunt, but said the big man should stay far away from a top contender:
Mark Hunt and Stefan Struve put on one of the best bad fights of all time. From Hunt pulling mount to Struve going for an armbar without the arm, it was a giggle-fest on top of being a fun, back and forth fight. Hunt deserves a chance against a real contender, but it won’t end well for him. I’d rather see him continue to have entertaining scraps with mid-level heavyweights.
No one, however, is laughing now. An epic battle with former title challenger Antonio Silva assured that, the kind of back-and-forth display that reminds you just how perilous stepping into the cage can truly be. That fight, a draw, made Hunt a serious contender for the first time. A knockout of Roy Nelson affirmed it.
And now, without warning, the unthinkable is here. Hunt, just 5-6 when he forced his way into the UFC, has gone 5-2-1 in the world’s greatest fight promotion. And, though he accepted an offer from Dana White earlier this week at over 300 pounds, though he hasn’t trained in weeks, though the fight will take place far from home and thousands of feet above sea level, Hunt is ready to write a final chapter in his modern fairy tale.
“There’s not enough time to have a camp, but there’s no way I’m going to turn down an opportunity like this,” he told ESPN’s Brett Okamoto. “I wasn’t even meant to be here anyways. I’m not supposed to be here, you know what I mean? But in my mind I’m supposed to be here and here I am.
“This is what I’m supposed to do and I believe the hard work has paid off. Of course, I want to go in the first round and try to knock his face off. Hopefully, I can knock him out before the second round. We’ll see what happens.”
A conversation with Emanuel Newton, Bellator’s light heavyweight champion, is unlike a conversation with anyone else in mixed martial arts. If pushed, he can take you to some very strange places. But pushing him is not strictly necessary for the journe…
A conversation with Emanuel Newton, Bellator’s light heavyweight champion, is unlike a conversation with anyone else in mixed martial arts. If pushed, he can take you to some very strange places. But pushing him is not strictly necessary for the journey.
Pick any question, even the standard ones about techniques, training partners and longtime goals—just don’t expect a standard answer in return. At one point during our 23-minute talk in advance of his Bellator 130 title defense Friday against Linton Vassell on Spike TV, Newton talked for nearly four consecutive minutes, straight monologuing about the meaning of life.
You may know him as the master of the spinning backfist, a move he says he’s mastered with coaches Arnold Chon and Robert Drimel. He’s more. So much more. The man, simply put, is a little bit weird. Delightfully so.
“How we make our decisions is off of our deja vus. Our coincidences. Our dreams. Our omens. The energy that comes from a person’s heart can turn that thought into works. We all have auras. We all have chakras in our body. And when you do that stuff, you can bless yourself,” Newton said. “…The same atom that dwells in our DNA is the same atom that makes up our sun. There’s no difference. We’re made from stardust. You know?”
Newton punctuated many of his deep thoughts with that phrase.
“You know?”
Frankly, I did not know. I did not know at all. But I am hardly one to be out-weirded, even by a master like Matt Horwich, MMA‘s reigning lovable goofball. I was tempted to jump right into the mix, to bring up Descartes’ theory about the pineal gland being the primary seat of the soul or the influence of circadian rhythms on human performance.
Newton inspires that kind of madcap energy. He’s a walking digression.
Instead, in a rare display of discipline, I asked him about his first recorded fight, a tale featuring Tito Ortiz, a drive to Monterey, Mexico, and an opponent, Brian Ebersole, who had 33 pro fights under his belt.
“They said, ‘Hey, do you want to fight?’ I said, ‘Let’s do it.’ I was a kid at the time. Nineteen years old,” Newton said. “I wasn’t even supposed to fight Ebersole. His guy didn’t end up showing up. I showed up. This was back in the day. 2003. MMA was just starting to catapult into the big time. Everything was still underground. That was how the scene was. Going to Mexico to fight some guy and having no idea who he is or what his record was just kind of the norm.”
The loss was typical of his early career. He was just a kid having fun, making a little money, completely unconcerned about his professional record. Which was probably a good thing, as it stood at just 2-3, hardly the marker of a major prospect.
But a stint wrestling at Cerritos College, a junior college powerhouse in California, convinced Newton that this fighting gig could be for real. By 2005 he was looking at things in a different way. He started training with Antonio McKee and sparred with the likes of Dan Henderson and Quinton “Rampage” Jackson.
On May 19, 2007, he won his sixth fight in a row, dispatching Jeff Quinlan at an IFL event in Chicago. Things were going his way. As a present to himself, he bought a motorcycle. It was a decision that didn’t end well.
The Honda CBR600 is a fast bike—perfect for Newton, a man who takes life at full speed. One fateful night on his way home from his regular gig as a bouncer in a Neptune, California, bar, full speed was quantifiable—152 mph. That was as fast as he could make the bike go. He estimates he had slowed to 140 before losing control.
“I had ridden bigger bikes before without any problems. I was just trying to top it out and got too fast. Racing cars and being a fool and ended up crashing,” Newton said. “I had so many surgeries because they had to take metal out of my arm. Antibiotics don’t do anything to combat that kind of foreign object in your body. At one point I had an external fixator coming out of my arm. I wore that for about six weeks to stabilize my arm. I looked like a cyborg. Like Robocop.”
A badly broken arm, it turns out, was the least of his worries. The series of surgeries led to a staph infection. The infection, in turn, nearly led to the unthinkable.
“I was three days out from them taking my arm off because the infection was getting so bad,” Newton said. “But I was meant to do greater things. I was able to keep my arm, but not just that. I was able to function well enough to get back in the ring and be a champion.”
The accident, more than seven years later, is still with him every day—if not mentally, then in the gym, where he isn’t the man he used to be. Once notable for his powerful slams, Newton’s grappling is now decidedly less high-octane.
“I only have about 60 percent rotation in my right arm. I don’t have the strength on my right side to always hold guys the way I want to. I still get it done. I have definitely adapted,” Newton said. “Is it the same? No. Would I change it and make it the way it was before? No. If I did that, then I wouldn’t be the Emanuel Newton that I am today. I’d keep the arm; I’d keep the scar. I wouldn’t change anything for the world.”
The accident was adversity—no doubt. But for Newton, who lost both parents before graduating high school, it was comparatively light work. He had already mastered pulling himself to his feet and moving forward. Always forward.
“If my parents hadn’t passed, I wouldn’t be the man I am today. I wouldn’t be the fighter I am. I wouldn’t know the people I know,” Newton said. “People always say, ‘Oh you’ve had a hard life.’ No. I went through what I was supposed to. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be someone who had a mom and dad and went through life with a silver spoon in their mouth? Maybe I was meant to go through this hardship to be the person that I am today.
“Everything happens for a reason. We make decisions for ourselves about how our lives will be, the energy that we’ll dwell in. It can either be good or bad. When it comes down to it, anything that happens to you in your life makes you stronger. A lot of people don’t understand that, so when they get knocked down they stay down. They keep getting knocked down over and over again, and before they know it they’re a heroin addict or a crackhead. I believe when things knock you down, it’s a way for the universe to say there are other plans for you.
“There’s always a bigger picture.”
Newton talks a lot about the universe. He cedes many things to it, including the responsibility for his actions. Before his last fight, a surprisingly hard-to-come-by win over Joey Beltran, Newton eschewed the normal post-weigh-in meal for a mere protein shake. It was unorthodox, certainly. But Newton stands by it.
“My connection to my body and the way I think is different than anybody else. I go off of knowing there’s a higher power; I go off of knowing I’m protons, neutrons and electrons. We’re carbon. Six protons. Six neutrons and six electrons. That’s what makes us flesh. The human mind is very strong. If you can take over your mind 100 percent, you can do anything,” Newton said.
“Me going into my last fight with just a protein shake was making my mind stronger. It was testing my connection to the universe. The thoughts that I have in my head are not my own. My actions are not my own. I want to be led by the universe.”
So what, I ask, is the universe telling him about this fight? Will it be another protein shake and wish for the best?
“It’s too early to say. In my last fight I was on an herbal cleanse. To clean out your system. Poop, pee, sweat, everything. I was on that really strong,” Newton said. “The day before the fight I pooped four times. That may be too much information. But I was losing nutrients out of my body. But that’s what the universe told me to do to keep myself clean.”
Equally clean is his record. Since a 2012 loss to Attila Vegh, since avenged, Newton has gone 6-0, including two upset wins over highly regarded wrestler “King” Mo Lawal. But as the promotion has signed a series of high-profile former UFC stars, including former Newton training partners Tito Ortiz and Jackson, the champion’s name has been conspicuously absent from any discussion of light heavyweight superfights.
Newton, on the surface at least, is blissfully unconcerned about when fame will find him. That’s not the same, however, as being unprepared.
“It’s not the time yet. It’s just not the time yet for them to fight me. I believe that something else controls us all. I surrender myself to the sun and the stars and the moon that dwell in the sky. I surrender myself to the higher power that is God,” Newton said. “They’ll want to fight me when the time is right to fight me. Nobody will have my name in their mouth until it’s right for them to have my name in their mouth.
“I could say, ‘Aw, all of them are scared of me.’ But I know the other guys in the organization. None of them are scared of anybody. It’s just not the time to think about me. When the time comes, they’ll think about me. They’ll run their mouths, and I’ll go in there and shut their mouths too.”
Last October, Josh Burkman, fresh off the biggest win of his career over former UFC contender Jon Fitch, lost a fight for the World Series of Fighting welterweight title to the relatively unknown underdog Steve Carl. A huge favorite, Burkman was caught…
Last October, Josh Burkman, fresh off the biggest win of his career over former UFC contender Jon Fitch, lost a fight for the World Series of Fighting welterweight title to the relatively unknown underdog Steve Carl. A huge favorite, Burkman was caught in a triangle choke in the fourth round and ended the night unconscious rather than victorious.
Burkman rallied with a win in a follow-up bout against Tyler Stinson and, with a 9-2 record since being released from the UFC in 2008, was invited back to the promotion to compete against Hector Lombard at UFC 182. It was a piece of matchmaking many in the MMA community found curious. Lombard is the sixth-ranked welterweight in the promotion and on the short list for a title shot.
Matching him with a promotional outsider, particularly one with a recent high-profile loss, seemed unusual for the normally meticulous UFC matchmaking team. Ben Askren, himself a welterweight star and a vocal UFC critic, went after the bout on Twitter, writing:
That was all par for the course. It was only when Burkman responded to the jibe, calling the Carl loss into question, that things took a strange turn. In a tweet since deleted (h/t Brent Brookhouse of Bloody Elbow), Burkman claimed he lost the fight on purpose in order to make a UFC return possible:
Evrybdyknws I lost that fight to get out of my contract. No 1 releases champions. Only one belt counts, that’s why ur bitter; )
On the surface, it may not make sense that losing a fight would open the doors to a premium organization like the UFC, but losing the World Series of Fighting (WSOF) title may have done just that. Like many promotions, including the UFC, sources tell Bleacher Report that WSOF had an option allowing them to extend the term of his contract for at least one additional fight if he was champion.
This means that beating Carl would have delayed Burkman‘s ability to make a UFC return up to a year as he finished out his contract and the extension. Many MMA promotions allow fighters an “out” to go to the UFC. WSOF, however, does not have a UFC “out” in its contract.
“I encourage you to review Josh’s subsequent comments to other members of the media,” UFC spokesman Dave Sholler told Bleacher Report. “He admitted it was an attempt at sarcasm.”
Though Burkman has indeed claimed his tweet to Askren was “sarcasm,” it could have major implications if others look into it. The Nevada State Athletic Commission takes a fighter’s integrity seriously. According to Nevada Code, knowingly throwing a fight would be grounds for disciplinary action:
The Commission may suspend or revoke the license of, otherwise discipline or take any combination of such actions against a licensee who has, in the judgment of the Commission:
1. Violated the laws of Nevada, except for minor traffic violations;
2. Violated any provision of this chapter;
3. Provided false or misleading information to the Commission or a representative of the Commission;
4. Failed or refused to comply with a valid order of a representative of the Commission;
5. Conducted himself or herself at any time or place in a manner which is deemed by the Commission to reflect discredit to unarmed combat;
6. Knowingly dealt or consorted with any person who:
(a) Has been convicted of a felony;
(b) Engages in illegal bookmaking;
(c) Engages in any illegal gambling activity;
(d) Is a reputed underworld character;
(e) Is under suspension from any other Commission; or
(f) Is engaged in any activity or practice that is detrimental to the best interests of unarmed combat; or
7. Had personal knowledge that an unarmed combatant suffered a serious injury during training for a contest or exhibition and failed or refused to inform the Commission about that serious injury.
Watching the fight over again is inconclusive. Personally, it looked like a standard fight to me. But with jaded eyes, some things certainly stand out. The fight, despite Burkman‘s status as a feared striker, occurred mostly on the mat. Even in real time, reporters at Sherdog noted some irregularities during their live blog of the event:
Burkman has Carl back on the canvas, but “The People’s Warrior” this time backs out and allows Carl to stand. Neither man seems willing to commit fully on their strikes early in the frame.
At Bloody Elbow, Nate Wilcox noted things didn’t look quite right, especially with Burkman in top position in the third round:
Burkman is on top in full mount and isn’t really doing anything. So Carl is able to explode to his feet. then he almost dives into the choke again. This is a weird fight.
At the very least, it’s another lesson to athletes that Twitter can be a dangerous game, especially when the message is subtle. Burkman maintains he was poking fun at Askren and not actually admitting to losing on purpose to Carl. He told Bleacher Report that fighters often use sarcasm “to disguise the heartache of a big loss” and puts the blame on social media’s inability to convey humor or emotion.
“I would phrase it a little different if I could,” Burkman said. “It seems most people got it and others are looking for a story.”
Officials from World Series of Fighting did not immediately respond to request for comment.
When Georges St-Pierre walked away from mixed martial arts, a casualty of injury, burnout and concerns about the UFC’s permissive performance-enhancing drugs culture, the sport lost more than a great fighter. It lost an icon, especially for fans in Can…
When Georges St-Pierre walked away from mixed martial arts, a casualty of injury, burnout and concerns about the UFC’s permissive performance-enhancing drugs culture, the sport lost more than a great fighter. It lost an icon, especially for fans in Canada who had embraced their hometown star with a gusto that made his every appearance a cash cow for promoters and athlete alike.
Even before St-Pierre’s departure, the search was well underway for his replacement. Athletic careers are short—but Canada’s potential as a market for MMA is endless.
The first man tapped as GSP 2.0 was his protege, Rory MacDonald, who main events UFC Fight Night 54 in Halifax, Nova Scotia Saturday on Fox Sports 1.
But while MacDonald is the obvious choice, the real GSP replacement may be lurking on the undercard in the form of The Ultimate Fighter Nations: Canada vs. Australia middleweight winner Elias Theodorou who fights Brazilian Bruno Santos in his first post-reality show appearance.
Where MacDonald is reticent, Theodorou is passionate. MacDonald isn’t even sure he wants to assume GSP‘s legacy. Theodorou? He’s happen to entertain the thought. He doesn’t just want to be GSP—he sees St-Pierre’s success as a mere jumping off place.
“I’m not sure about filling his shoes,” Theodorou said. “I’m kind of making my own way. He’s a great ambassador for the sport. But he’s a nice guy I’d say. That was important to establish the legitimacy of mixed martial arts as a sport instead of people looking at it as two barbarians going in there. I think what I have is a little bit more pizazz and flair. I’m just being myself. And, obviously I have to back it up. But so far, so good—never losing a round and never losing a fight.”
That likely sounds obscene to many Canadians, a humble people more comfortable with the quiet and self-effacing St-Pierre. Theodorou is a different kind of MMA superstar, the kind who pauses in mid-fight to say “Hi mom” before going back to dismantling a foe. But like baseball star Dizzy Dean once said “it ain’t bragging if you can back it up.”
MMA is filled with big egos. It’s that way by necessity. These are men who spot the biggest, baddest bloke on the block and never think once about crossing to the other side of the street. Instead, they’re willing to stand across a cage from him, not just risking a fight but demanding one.
You can’t be in the pain business with an almost comical level of self confidence. If you don’t believe in yourself unconditionally, you shouldn’t even consider stepping into the UFC Octagon.
But even in a sport where every fighter is the cock of the walk, Theodorou is an absurdity. If self-regard were measured in decibels, he’d be Century Link Field.
Genetically, he’s an aberration, a lottery winner in the looks department. Instead of cauliflower ears and a flattened nose, Theodorou sports the self-proclaimed best hair in MMA and helped pay the bills during his early career as a model who has been on the cover of several romance novels.
“I just wake up like this. I put in a little gel here and there, but mostly I’m blessed waking up as is…I’m Fabio 2.0,” Theodorou said. “They seemed to like my backside. For the majority of my shots, the focus is my butt and I’m just kind of looking back at the camera. A little pouty.”
He means well, you can tell. And he’s smart—smart enough to play along with the good-natured jibes about his pretty face.
“If looks can kill, they probably will,” he said. “Honestly, this is what I love to do. And it doesn’t matter what’s on the exterior. I’m doing what I love on the interior.
“It’s what has given me more attention, than most anyway. So I’m using it for all it’s worth. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about being punched in the face. That’s why I’ve only been punched three times in the face so far. I’ve been avoiding it. Doing what what I want to do—beat someone up.”
At 9-0, he’s on his way to giving Canada another star to embrace. But a pretty face and quiver of clever quips won’t be enough. To be GSP—or even Patrick Cote, his coach on The Ultimate Fighter and a regular training partner—Theodorou is going to face to prove himself in the cage. Charisma is just the sizzle. Fighting is the steak, and—continuing the metaphor—Theodorou might be a tasty morsel indeed.
“He’s a physically imposing middleweight with a bright future ahead of him,” Sherdog contributor Patrick Wyman said. “While he is a talented striker, Theodorou‘s best skill set is his punishing infighting ability. In the clinch, he whirls a constant stream of sharp, picture-perfect knees and elbows. He shows his strength with high-amplitude takedowns and a vicious top game, and he has the cardio to drag his opponents into deep waters.”
Bleacher Report’s own prospect watcher, The Beaten Path scribe Scott Harris, isn’t quite sold that Theodorou is anything particularly special:
I think it’s a little premature to anoint Theodorou as the successor to someone like GSP. He’s undoubtedly a talented athlete, and undoubtedly has several of the qualities valued by the modern marketing professional. He undoubtedly smells terrific. But I doubt him as a slam dunk.
He’s fun to watch and easy to admire. If he beats Santos, he’ll do it in a way that is very hype-enhancing. I’d just pump the brakes on crowning him The Next Big Thing From The Great White North until he earns it with compelling performances over proven guys.
Theodorou, for his part, understands that everything up to this point was just an audition. Here, in the sport’s promotion of record, is where he’ll stake his claim to fame. That doesn’t, he believes, mean changing an approach that’s working.
“What I’m really good at is just breaking the will of my opponent. I embrace the grind. But I embrace all aspects,” Theodorou said. “I’ve had kickboxing fights in Thailand and have a great coach, Sergio Cunha, who’s from Chute Boxe and has been developing my striking since the very beginning. I can do it all. I take the fight wherever I can win. On the show, it was wrestling. But, honestly, I’ll fight anywhere.”
He’s building those diverse skills across Canada, traveling regularly from Toronto, where he trains at Tapout Burlington and Grants MMA, to Montreal, where most of the country’s top talent coalesces around the world famous TriStar gym.
Life, of course, is about more than just MMA. Like many young celebrities, the nightlife calls to Theodorou, including a quest to bed every good-looking woman in Canada.
“It’s a work in progress is what I’m going to say,” he said with a laugh. “…I’ve been enjoying life. I’m a huge believer that the journey is the most important part. It’s been an awesome ride. I’ve been chosen a couple times and very lucky to be an ambassador for the UFC at different events and expos. It’s the beginning of becoming the face of UFC Canada. Honestly, I’m still coming to grips with having fans and people coming from hours away just to see me. It’s an amazing thing. I’m kind of pinching myself.”
It’s easy to get caught up in every thing that comes with fighting while losing track of what got you there in the first place. But when the call came from the UFC to make his debut proper, focus shifted exclusively to the gym.
“Martial arts is my passion. It’s what I want to do. Now I’m at the point where this is my 100 percent. Every fight is building from the last one,” Theodorou said. “Everything I’ve done, all the hard work, The Ultimate Fighter, the regional fights, it was all to get a place in the big leagues. Now I’m there. This is where it truly begins. It’s the same job, just a better office.”
Theodorou takes Bruno Santos Saturday night at the Scotiabank Centre in Halifax, Nova Scotia. The broadcast airs live on Fox Sports 1.
Jonathan Snowden is Bleacher Report’s lead combat sports writer. Unless otherwise noted, all quotes were acquired firsthand.
Answering a phone call when you aren’t sure who or what awaits on the other end can be a dicey proposition in the best of times. When you’re Chael Sonnen, and life is a constant roller coaster ride of your own devising, that’s especially true.
Bu…
Answering a phone call when you aren’t sure who or what awaits on the other end can be a dicey proposition in the best of times. When you’re ChaelSonnen, and life is a constant roller coaster ride of your own devising, that’s especially true.
But sometimes courage is rewarded. Sometimes you hit that green button and it’s WWE legend Jim Ross on the other end with an intriguing offer from BattleGroundsMMA, a chance to join him in the announce booth for their inaugural pay-per-view this Friday. Sometimes, you get a third chance to make things right with the sport you love.
“The only apprehension I had was who my partner was going to be. I didn’t want it to be somebody who would be uncomfortable with a ‘that rasslin guy’ coming into MMA as his partner. Who might resent me,” Ross told Bleacher Report in an exclusive interview. “I gave Chael a call. We’ve never met. But I loved his studio work on Fox. I thought he was one of the bright shining stars on the UFC coverage and he had a really compelling personality as that American Gangster guy. The guy has a little edge, he’s really bright and he talks in sound bites when he needs to. He understands the genre. He gets it. He reminded me a lot of Paul Heyman back in the day.
“Knowing that he had got into the situation he found himself in, losing his gig at UFC and losing his gig at Fox, I assumed he’d be available. But I didn’t know if he’d have an interest. Because it would be brand new to him, too. He’s a studio guy. There’s a big difference between being a studio guy and calling it live cageside as it unfolds.“
Sonnen, however, was quick to agree. After months on the sidelines, this was his opportunity to get back to living and breathing MMA. The idea that it should be a frightening proposition, he told Bleacher Report, never really occurred to him—especially with Ross at the helm. For him, it will be a return to the world that made him a star. But he’s not sure yet whether it will be a permanent one.
“As far as my participation in this sport, I don’t know. I got to operate in a lot of roles. As a competitor, as a coach and behind the scenes in the office as well. I had a lot of fun and I cherish those memories. But my time is done,” Sonnen said. “I get calls for interviews and asked to weigh in on different things. But I don’t think it’s appropriate. I think you’ve got to give the guys that are out there fighting, you’ve got to give them their time. The guys who are fighting should be the ones getting the headlines.”
The opportunity to call the action, however, was too big to pass up.
“It’s different. I worked with Jon Anik and he told me that in the broadcasting world live sports is the pinnacle. That’s what you want to do,” he said. “I had never thought about it in those terms. When he told me that it became reality. Anik says live sports is the biggest thing and that’s what I want to do. This will be a chance to do it.”
It’s the first part of Sonnen‘s third act, a chance for redemption. For Ross, too, it’s another chance to get some skin back in the game.
After decades as the voice of wrestling for Vince McMahon’s WWE, doubling up at times as the company’s vice president for talent relations, Ross found himself adrift last year, put out to pasture, a victim of a promotional youth movement. It turns out that an old man in a cowboy hat and Southern accent at odds with a very New York business wasn’t considered the ideal spokesman for a television program aimed at an audience in diapers when Ross unleashed his epic and unforgettable call of Mankind’s perilous plummet from atop the Hell in the Cell.
But, for two generations worth of fans, when you think about professional wrestling, those reminisces have a soundtrack provided by Ross. The lines live in legend:
If you doubt Ross’s influence on the popular culture, the Internet should disabuse you of any notion that his voice reached only the few and disenfranchised, the stereotypical wrestling fan. Ross resonated. More than a million people follow him on Twitter and his Ross Report is a podcast sensation.
Even today, his iconic voice is used to provide the excitement, passion and hyperbole so often missing from the carefully coiffed professionals who so often populate mainstream sports broadcasts. If you ever require the antidote to the Jim Nantz’s of the world, check out a clip where some enterprising young hooligan has replaced the tired and staid commentary of a sports highlight with relevant Ross commentary.
Subtle? Not always. But effective? Unquestionably.
“That was 16 years ago, the Hell in the Cell stuff,” Ross said. “And I still get people walking up to me quoting those lines. ‘Hey J.R., this game is going to be a slobberknocker!’ ‘Yeah, it sure will be.’ I want to bring the same level of enthusiasm I’ve always brought to events I’ve worked on and try to make my inflection and my tone fit the moment. That’s the deal. It has to fit the moment. It can’t be forced. Because then it would sound like a pro wrestling deal. It would sound disingenuous and I’m not looking to do that.”
The Ross on display will be the one from early in his career, when he called the action for Mid-South Wrestling. Headed by the legendary Bill Watts, it was old-school wrestling with an emphasis on sport, not shenanigans. Ross treated it seriously, discussing the wrestlers’ real-life athletic backgrounds and the story of the match as it transpired.
“He’ll definitely be the captain of the ship. I’ll take my cues from him,” Sonnen said. “Jim asked me ‘Chael, when you grew up did you think wrestling was real?’ And I said, ‘Yeah.’ And he said, ‘Well, who made you think that?’ And I said, ‘Well, you did.’ If he can make you think a fake product is real, how do you think he’s going to do with something so real in a competitive environment?”
But even at his most serious, Ross is still a showman. He knows that fans are expecting some classic Ross-isms—but only if they work in context.
“If they fit, there’s probably a good shot that some of those colloquialisms will be heard,” Ross said. “But I’m not going to force the proverbial square peg into a round hole. Am I going to have all my cliches on a sheet of paper and mark them off as we go? No. A lot of that stuff is just instinctual. You just feel it and you do it. But I’m going to have so much on my mind I won’t have time to think, ‘Don’t forget to get your stuff in. Make sure you say slobberknocker at least once an hour.'”
Ross and Sonnen were both a little lost, drifting, waiting for an opportunity like this to find them. BattleGrounds MMA is not UFC and it’s not WWE. It’s a bit “indy,” an unheralded offering from a fledgling promoter, a bet that MMA is ready for a nostalgia act, an eight-man one-night tournament that harks back to the sport’s earliest days.
“I can count the number of eight-man tournament winners on one hand. It’s a very, very rare thing. They don’t even exist anymore. Everyone who’s ever won one has a very meaningful place in MMA history. If you beat three men in one night, it’s a big deal,” Sonnen said. “I’m impressed that guys have raised their hands and volunteered to do this. You don’t have to walk out there. We are a volunteer army in this sport. It’s a very daunting task. Which is largely why the tournament went away.”
The names aren’t big ones. Ross and Sonnen will dwarf any competitor in relative fame and Q rating. The prestige signings are two UFC castoffs, J.T. Taylor and Cody McKenzie, who are both plenty respectable fighters. But the names, with due respect, don’t matter. The roster has changed multiple times during BattleGround’s wild journey. Ultimately it’s the concept, not the individual fighters, that matters most.
“I did an eight-man tournament. And I didn’t win,” Sonnen continued. “It was won by a man named Babalu. I’ve never looked at Babalu the same since that night. He could have lost every other fight he had in his career—I look at him differently. Just because it’s so hard. It’s going to be a big deal. You’re going to get the money and everything that comes along with it, but they’re also going to be able to write their own ticket. They’ll be able to go anywhere they want and they’ll deserve it all.”
For a beginner, promoter Bryan O’Rourke seems to be making all the right moves. Locally he’s leveraging the influence of Oklahoma wrestling legend Kenny Monday, making the Olympic gold medalist the face of the promotion for a fanbase that remember his exploits clearly. Nationally, he’s enlisted the aid of Doug Jacobs and his team at Integrated Sports, the leading independent distributor of sports PPV in the world. The result is a show available on essentially every cable and satellite system in the country.
“I don’t mean to sound obnoxious, but if I put my stamp of approval on something, most of the time they take it,” Jacobs said. “…I think there are opportunities in MMA. And going back to the one-night tournament was an idea (cable companies) liked. If you just have a card full of former UFC and Bellator guys, how does that differentiate you from a UFC or Bellator event, whether free or on pay-per-view?
“When I first started distributing soccer in the mid-’90s, it was pre-Fox Soccer channel, pre-Goal TV. People who were hard-core fans were desperate to see soccer, so you could put almost anything on and people would buy it. I think at one point there was a similar situation with MMA. The only place you could see it was on PPV. Now, with so much MMA available on free television, for something to be successful on pay-per-view it needs a uniqueness to it.
“I think people are excited to see something different. It’s that unique, throwback twist, allowed us to get fully distributed. It’s the same distribution as a Manny Pacquiao fight or a UFC event—every cable company, every Telco, in the U.S. and Canada.”
For all Jacobs’ considerable influence, the broadcast team wasn’t his idea. He gives the credit to O’Rourke, who deflects it back to Ross. Sonnen was his call, literally, a partner he went out and pursued on his own before bringing the idea back to BattleGrounds.
You can see where Ross is coming from, of course. Sonnen is a magnetic television presence. He helped reinvent fight promotion in the UFC, giving rise to a new breed of self-promoting fighter like ConorMcGregor. But it’s not a choice without risk.
“I just have a gut feeling we’re going to have chemistry,” Ross said. “And I don’t have anything to base that on, except for my instincts. We’ll obviously find out on Oct. 3. But I think he’s going to be outstanding. And, as Rock would say, I know my role. My role isn’t to pretend I’m an MMA expert. I’m a storyteller. I’ve done an awful lot of live television. Mechanically, I have the skill set. I can help him with that. The technique and the mechanics of fighting? He can help me with that. I don’t need to be the expert. ChaelSonnen is the expert.”
Sonnen, for all his talents on the microphone, has never called a live-action fight. There’s room for stale script in a studio television appearance and bluster can carry you through a wrestling style interview. Talking nonstop for more than three hours requires a different kind of skill set, one that Sonnen will be forced to hone on the fly.
“I talked to Jim about it and the one thing he doesn’t like in his experience is scripts. He doesn’t like to rehearse it or have a plan,” Sonnen said. “I know the sport really well. Jim knows the sport. We both like talking about it. Neither one of us gets tired or runs out of energy. I think we’re going to have a lot of fun. When you go in with those kinds of expectations, when the goal is having fun and sharing that enthusiasm with the viewer, I think it’s a good sign you’ll have a good evening.”
Veterans of the industry have seen all kinds of disasters, especially when a first-time announcer steps into the booth. They can talk too much, distracting from the action. They can talk too little, not doing nearly enough to give the bouts context or depth. Sometimes they can even accidentally talk to the audience at home instead of producers in the truck.
This thing could easily devolve into a complete train wreck, something everyone involved is keenly aware of. But the show’s executive producer, former WWE television chief Nelson Sweglar, believes Ross, a veteran of thousands of hours of live TV, can help Sonnen find his way the same way he’s helped dozens of other novice broadcasters in his day.
“As my old friend Vince McMahon used to say, ‘If it goes bad, we always meant it to be that way.’ I never really was sure what Vince meant by that,” Sweglar said with a laugh. “…But Jim comes with all kinds of experience. The ability to improvise within a given structure, a skill you learn in wrestling to advance the story, doesn’t go to waste in professional sports like MMA.
“It takes awhile for a new person to get a sense of when to talk. And not to step on each other’s lines. It’s an interesting talent, to read the speech patterns of the guy sitting next to you. Jim is very good at knowing how to read the person sitting next to him and keeping folks in rhythm.”
While Ross is holding Sonnen‘s hand, the same thing is true vice versa. For all his experience in the broadcast booth, Ross has never called an MMA fight, though he did dabble with a bit of boxing earlier this year. Sonnen, a veteran of 44 career fights, will fill in the blanks when it comes to technical nuance. Ross, in turn, will concentrate on the narrative.
“The fights are what it’s all about. That’s where the rubber meets the road. But there are some displaced wrestling fans who will probably want to hear good old J.R. on commentary again,” Ross admits. “Am I going to stink the joint out or am I going to come through with flying colors? And how will Chael do sitting at cageside? There are fans who will want to see how he transitions too. There is curiosity about the broadcast. There’s a lot of traffic.
“Hopefully fans will give us a try and not condemn the show and the broadcast until they see how things are going to go. I’m really excited about the opportunity and think it’s going to be fun. That’s the main thing for me at this stage of the game. I want to earn my stripes. For the MMA fans who are purists, I want them to know I have great respect for the genre. I’m a big fan just like they are.”
BattleGrounds MMA ‘O.N.E.’ will be broadcast live from the BOK Center in Tulsa, Oklahoma, this Friday beginning at 10 p.m. EST/7 p.m. PST at a price point of $19.95. In addition, the event will be available online as an iPPV on Go Fight Live.
Jonathan Snowden is Bleacher Report’s lead combat sports writer. Unless otherwise noted, all quotes were acquired firsthand.
Conor McGregor, the loquacious 26-year-old Irishman with a silver tongue, golden fists and cash-green dreams, had less than two minutes to style on poor Dustin Poirier at UFC 178.
Then it was all over, a left hand just missing Poirier’s head but the at…
ConorMcGregor, the loquacious 26-year-old Irishman with a silver tongue, golden fists and cash-green dreams, had less than two minutes to style on poor Dustin Poirier at UFC 178.
Then it was all over, a left hand just missing Poirier‘s head but the attached elbow doing no such thing, leaving the No. 5 featherweight in the world dazed, confused and dumbfounded.
It was a brutal finish to a brutal build—one punctuated by taunts, shoves and enough ugly looks to make one wonder if McGregor is a lost Diaz brother.
So dismissive on the road to the cage, McGregorwas suddenly magnanimous. All of seven months his senior, McGregor called Poirier a “good kid” and dismissed any talk of hatred—at least on his end.
“I cannot hate the man who has the same dreams as me. I have no emotion toward them at the end of the day. I am on my journey,” McGregor said at the post-fight press conference on UFC Fight Pass. “I have nothing but respect for these competitors. Make no mistake: I am cocky in prediction, I am confident in preparation, but I am always humble in victory or defeat.”
The fighting, built to in a whirlwind month of trash talk and mean mugging, was done early. The styling and profiling? It was just beginning.
They say you should dress for the job you want, not the job you have. If that’s true, McGregor is auditioning for the role of multimillionaire—and he may be on his way.
Resplendent in a gorgeous custom-tailored ivory suit by David August, McGregor held court at the post- fight press conference. If there was any doubt as to whom the night belonged to before the bouts began, there was none after. The UFC is now McGregor‘s world. Everyone else is just a bit player.
“This is all fun and games for me. I love it. I love my job,” he told the press. “I whoop people for truckloads of cash. How could I hate this life? I love it so much.”
Before the bout, there was significant doubt about whether McGregor could live up to the not-insignificant hype. The combat sports world is littered with the broken dreams of fighters who were beloved by promoters and television executives but couldn’t deliver when flying words turned to flying fists.
But McGregor appears transformed every time he steps into the cage.
In a world where most are in a steady process of decay—their bodies, spirit and will power constantly on that perilous path toward empty—McGregor is an exception. He’s growing better, stronger and smarter every time out.
“That’s what it’s about. This game is about growth,” he pontificated. “I find a lot of mixed martial artists, a lot of athletes period, get to this stage where they are happy with their ability. And then it’s about maintenance. It’s about showing up at the gym. It’s about getting hard round in. It’s about getting miles on the road in. But, really, their skill level is not growing.”
With skills and hype both growing at an astronomical rate, discussion of the past gives way to dreams of the future. What’s next for McGregor? In his mind, it’s a title shot against longtime champion Jose Aldo.
“Don’t try and tell me that gold belt sitting up there on this table would not look great to go alongside this ivory elephant trunk suit that I’ve got on me right now,” McGregor said, his voice rising an octave. “I know Dana [White] wants to see it. I know Lorenzo [Fertitta] wants to see it. Shout out to Uncle Frank [Fertitta], I know he wants to see it. It’s what the fans want. It’s what I want.”
Bleacher Report’s Jeremy Botter agrees that the time for McGregor is now:
Imagine, if you will, that McGregor gets his wish and fights for the championship belt in a soccer stadium in Ireland? The place will be packed. Ireland, already MMA-crazed, will become even more so. They’ll pack Dublin and create a monstrous source of revenue for the UFC, and it is a source of revenue that could expand and help them cement their presence in other European markets.
It’s a compelling case. Certainly, McGregor is becoming a folk hero in Ireland and could no doubt bring a rabid fanbase to any arena or stadium in the country.
But at the end of the day, as McGregor likes to say, Ireland isn’t where the real money is. It’s a country with a population of fewer than 5 million people.
There’s a reason even the biggest British boxing stars, men like Ricky Hatton and Lennox Lewis, contested all of their major bouts in America—it’s where you get rich. The same will be true of McGregor. Packing a stadium in Ireland is nice. Selling 1 million pay-per-views is better.
As exciting as he’s been, both in the cage and out, McGregor has been playing mostly to the hardcores.
His standout performance against Diego Brandao in July was on UFC’s Fight Pass, an online streaming service by definition geared only for the most devoted fans. His win over Poirier was on a card headlined by Demetrious Johnson, the UFC’s least popular champion. It was likely viewed by an average, at best, audience.
The UFC will get one chance to pit its top featherweight against its rising star. It’s important to do it right. If it runs that fight next, it will be a big deal to obsessive UFC fans and a disappointment on pay-per-view.
Instead, the promotion should give McGregor one more bout, against a veteran with a name but little more, and put it on the Fox Network in front of millions of fans.
Then, when McGregor finally walks into a soccer stadium in his native land, more than just Irish diehards will be primed to see him take on Aldo. Then, the world will be watching.
In mixed martial arts we have a bad tendency to write our narratives in stone, preferring pen even in the early stages of a fighter’s career when a pencil would probably be a better choice. Oft-injured UFC champion Cain Velasquez is the perfect example.