According to MMAJUnkie.com, Mark Munoz and Michael Bisping have both verbally agreed to fight each other on October 26th in Manchester, England. The bout will serve as the main event of an upcoming UFC on Fox Sports 1 card, although no other fights have been announced for the card.
Well, [Weidman is] on a roll but I don’t think a win over a fat Mark Munoz makes you a contender. Especially when Munoz has bounced into the Octagon like he’s at a Take That concert and with a haircut that looks like Belcher’s tattooist has switched careers. Did that distract him? It distracted me. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. What was it supposed to be, do you know?
According to MMAJUnkie.com, Mark Munoz and Michael Bisping have both verbally agreed to fight each other on October 26th in Manchester, England. The bout will serve as the main event of an upcoming UFC on Fox Sports 1 card, although no other fights have been announced for the card.
Well, [Weidman is] on a roll but I don’t think a win over a fat Mark Munoz makes you a contender. Especially when Munoz has bounced into the Octagon like he’s at a Take That concert and with a haircut that looks like Belcher’s tattooist has switched careers. Did that distract him? It distracted me. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. What was it supposed to be, do you know?
Considering that Munoz would go on to battle obesity and depression, Bisping’s insults now seem particularly cold. But for real, Mark, that hair do deserved it’s own Usher Raymond condescending/inspirational post-fight lecture.
In any case, Munoz will certainly be the guy coming into this bout with more hype considering his manhandling of Tim Boetsch compared to Bisping’s technical decision win over Alan Belcher last April. Bisping often does his best when he’s written off, however.
Who do you think will walk away with a win, here, taters? Will Munoz’ power and wrestling take the day or will Bisping’s patient, tactical and well-rounded style prevail? In either case, the fight is a great opportunity for both men to take a big step up the middleweight ladder.
(Photo by Ben Watts for ESPN The Magazine. Click image for full-size version)
With the newest issue of the “ESPN Body Issue” set to hit shelves today – featuring none other than UFC contender (by convenience) Miesha Tate – we decided to take look back at memorable publicity stunts from other MMA fighters. Some were one-time incidents, some were entire careers, and one actually managed to be both. Read on for our picks, and please continue to send your ideas for future Roundtable topics to [email protected].
There was a time when Kimbo Slice was the most popular MMA fighter in the world. That’s not hyperbole. There are actual numbers to back this up.
After Kevin Ferguson — Kimbo’s real name, in case you’ve forgotten — became an Internet legend fighting in backyards, boatyards, and basements, the bare-knuckle brawler decided to go legit and fight in steel cages instead. Kimbo’s first MMA exhibition in June 2007 was a classic freak show against boxer Ray Mercer, which Slice won by guillotine choke in just over a minute. After that, it was a career-defining 12 months in Gary Shaw’s utterly shameless EliteXC outfit, where Kimbo picked up three consecutive wins against Bo Cantrell (who put up no resistance whatsoever), Tank Abbott (a old-school relic just there to pay off his bar tabs), and James Thompson (who was slapped with a standing-TKO loss only because his ear was about to fall off).
(Photo by Ben Watts for ESPN The Magazine. Click image for full-size version)
With the newest issue of the “ESPN Body Issue” set to hit shelves today – featuring none other than UFC contender (by convenience) Miesha Tate – we decided to take look back at memorable publicity stunts from other MMA fighters. Some were one-time incidents, some were entire careers, and one actually managed to be both. Read on for our picks, and please continue to send your ideas for future Roundtable topics to [email protected].
There was a time when Kimbo Slice was the most popular MMA fighter in the world. That’s not hyperbole. There are actual numbers to back this up.
After Kevin Ferguson — Kimbo’s real name, in case you’ve forgotten — became an Internet legend fighting in backyards, boatyards, and basements, the bare-knuckle brawler decided to go legit and fight in steel cages instead. Kimbo’s first MMA exhibition in June 2007 was a classic freak show against boxer Ray Mercer, which Slice won by guillotine choke in just over a minute. After that, it was a career-defining 12 months in Gary Shaw’s utterly shameless EliteXC outfit, where Kimbo picked up three consecutive wins against Bo Cantrell (who put up no resistance whatsoever), Tank Abbott (a old-school relic just there to pay off his bar tabs), and James Thompson (who was slapped with a standing-TKO loss only because his ear was about to fall off).
The fight against Thompson smashed American viewership records for MMA. Kimbo was an organic phenomenon who touched multiple groups of fight fans — from the YouTube noobs who were genuinely convinced that Slice was the baddest man in the world, to the skeptical MMA fans who were just waiting for the Miami Pound Machine to be humbled by an opponent who could actually fight. No matter what you thought of Kimbo, you watched those fights. Admit it, you did.
So it came as a bit of a shock when Kimbo Slice was signed to the UFC in June 2009, as part of the all-heavyweight cast of The Ultimate Fighter’s 10th season. What made the signing particularly unexpected was that UFC president Dana White had publicly trashed Kimbo as a street-fighter who would get murdered in the UFC. Of course, that was back when Kimbo was making money for another promoter. As soon as Slice became a Zuffa-controlled asset, White did his best to spin the narrative, and suddenly, Kimbo was a real fighter who White respects, and maybe he’ll surprise everybody by winning the whole thing?
Wisely, the UFC did away with elimination fights for The Ultimate Fighter: Heavyweights, guaranteeing that Kimbo would be living in the house for the entire 11-episode run. But if viewers expected entertainment-value from Slice, they would soon be given a harsh reality check. To get a sense of how over-hyped Kimbo’s stint on TUF 10 was, just watch this “TUF’s Top Ten Kimbo Moments” highlight reel:
Seriously, that’s the best footage they could find. #8 is Kimbo dodging out of the way as Rampage Jackson pretends to be a bull. #7 is Kimbo turning down a fight. The only action he actually saw was a lopsided defeat at the hands of Roy Nelson — a fight that confirmed our expectations about how far Kimbo could actually go in this sport — and a dull decision win over Houston Alexander at the TUF 10 Finale. (Kimbo would be booted from the UFC after a follow-up TKO loss to Matt Mitrione.)
But as transparent and absurd as this publicity stunt was, it was an unqualified success. TUF 10’s debut episode took in over 4 million viewers, while episode three, featuring Kimbo’s fight against Nelson, hit a series high of 5.3 million; that number ballooned to 7.25 million when DVR viewing was accounted for. Every episode drew 2.4 million viewers or higher.
Maybe that’s an unfair comparison, and not just because Kimbo Slice’s TUF season was broadcast on Spike, while Team Jones vs. Team Sonnen had the misfortune of being on FX. The history of The Ultimate Fighter has proven that superstar coaches don’t really move the needle. But having a compelling fighter on the show gives viewers a real reason to tune in, and for reasons that are still baffling to some, Kimbo Slice was massively compelling to fight fans for a brief moment in history. The numbers speak for themselves.
And some nights, if the wind is up and the moon is full, you can still hear his voice echoing across the bungalows of Miami, the triumphant bellow of a man who came, cashed in, and left, a voice as hard and shining as a fist dipped in gold:
In the interests of full disclosure:I’m a real asshole to Tim Sylvia. But just like the emotionally abusive boyfriend who reminds his baby love of those five extra pounds, I’m only doing it because I love him (the big lard-o).
And Tim Sylvia makes it so, so hard to love him. There is no one – NO ONE – who will go to the lengths that Timmeh has to embarrass themselves.Other fighters may have tried a publicity stunt for a bump in attention, the Maine-iac could write a book:Staying In the Public Eye (And Giving It Conjunctivitis).
It’s important to remember that Sylvia started his career with 16 straight wins and a UFC belt, with his first loss coming via Herb Dean freakout – an invalid result that shouldn’t even count, but whatever.Was Tim proud?Brother, this guy never took his belt off.But even when he was the UFC’s official Baddest Man on the Planet ™, his publicity was hilariously incongruent with his dayjob’s badassery.When Dana thought that having a few fighters appear on reality dating show Blind Date would be a good publicity stunt, Timmy was happy to play along.Unfortunately, his 22 year old date prospect quickly found Sylvia’s weakness: a tolerance for alcohol that falls somewhere between Taylor Swift and Mr Miyagi. Whoopsie? ( In case you haven’t seen it, click here [you’re welcome]).
But hey, mistakes happen, right?Of course they do.But Sylvia would pinball from one embarrassing story to the next.As if hearing that Tim kept his belt on during sex didn’t do enough for the world’s stock of Brain Bleach, there’s also the story about him picking up Andrei Arlovski’s sloppy seconds. And hey, playa, do you, get some, whatever, but Arlovski sent Sylvia to the burn unit with his immortal quote about tasting Andrei’s big pee pee, and it still smells like burnt hair and pork marinated in Old Spice in here.
And when the wheels fell off for Tim, they rolled in four separate directions, as if mocking Sylvia’s lack of agility and speed. After losing his Precious to Randy Couture at UFC 68 and an interim shot against Big Nog at UFC 81, Sylvia faced off with Fedor under the Affliction banner (Affliction itself being the publicity stunt, in this case, just not necessarily Tim’s publicity stunt). Sylvia got man-handled, losing the stand-up fight, the grappling exchange, and the whole shebang in just 36 seconds. (I mean damn, son – the Browns hold it together longer than that.)
Tim drowned his sorrows in meditation and determined training in the mountains of Tibet.LOL J/K I MEANT HAAGEN-DASZ .Tim showed up for his next publicity stunt fight at 310 pounds for a fight with 48-year old retired boxer Ray Mercer.Funny thing: taking a former world champ/Olympic gold medalist lightly will get your lights turned out, because Sylvia got merc’ed in just nine (9) seconds. For perspective, it takes longer to say “Tim Sylvia got knocked out by Ray Mercer and I was embarrassed watching it” than it actually took to watch it happen, which is why no one talks about that fight, ever. Ray Mercer promptly retired (again), and probably still laughs his balls off everytime he sees that match in GIF form.
Tim has struggled with his weight ever since, even though he’s tried (and tried, and tried some more) to get back down to his old fighting shape, which, for the record, was pear.He’s still working, though, and keeping that dream alive of making it back to fight for the UFC again. But despite all his work and support on Twitter (I’m so sorry, Tim), the UFC continues to not blow up his cell phone.It’s almost like his publicity is working against him.
Josh Hutchinson
There are far better and worse examples of fighters attempting to use publicity to their advantage, but as history will prove, none more memorable than the career of Brock Lesnar. I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve been known to shit on Lesnar over the years, possibly a tad unjustly. The fact is that numbers don’t lie, and Lesnar did apparently put asses in seats. Which begs the question, why?
From 2000 till 2007 Lesnar made his living in the esteemed profession of professional wrestling. At some point during 2007 the genetically gifted athlete decided to try his hand at MMA, and what followed can only be described as…interesting (Note: I’ve decided to try and not be such an asshole, so bear with me on my choice in wording). Professional Wrestling fans jumped at this chance to prove once and for all that there is a lot more to their beloved sport than just acting. On the other hand MMA fans saw this as an opportunity to show the world that there is no place for pro wrestlers in real, sanctioned fights. While both sides were busy arguing for their respective sport, the head honchos at Zuffa were trying their best to conceal a raging money boner. At least until it was time to promote Brock.
Everyone was jumping on the Brock bandwagon in one form or another. Hell, we here at Cage Potato ran 10 separate articles on the guy before his first UFC fight. Let me put that in perspective. One MMA site runs ten articles on a 1-0 fighter that’s making his UFC debut. Multiply that by how many other MMA news outlets ran stories (10 times something…carry the one…shit, I don’t math good) and you get an idea of how much energy Zuffa was putting into promoting the unstoppable beast that is Lesnar.
Fast forward to today and you can clearly see the results of said promotion. There is still talk of a “superfight” between Lesnar and Fedor. Randy Coutre, among many others, think Brock deserves a spot in the hall of fame. And if you ask Google Brock is clearly the baddest man on the planet. Now would be the point where I remind you that this is a retired 5-3 professional wrestler we are talking about.
So say what you will about Brock Lesnar *cough* way fucking overrated *cough*, but the evidence is all there. Brock Lesnar is, was, and god willing will always be the most memorable publicity stunt in MMA history.
While one could at least make the case that the boxing career of Eric “Butterbean” Esch contained the slightest semblance of merit – to this day, his record stands at 77-9-4 (and you don’t need to look any further into it than that) and he was the one time WBA Super Heavyweight champion – to claim that Butterbean’s MMA career was anything more than a sad, albeit memorable running gag would be a crime punishable by Scaphism. In fact, until Steven Seagal reemerged from his particular realm of B-movie hell to become Anderson Silva’s Sensei, it’s safe to say that Butterbean was perhaps the biggest in-joke in the sport’s short history – a 400+ pound, tortoise of a man who has tapped to strikes on nearly as many occasions as Bob Sapp, who he was coincidentally trounced by in a sumo match.
Look, everyone from Peter McNeeley to Johnny Knoxville will tell you that Butterbean possesses some solid boxing skills and hits like a Mac Truck to boot. But as was the case with James “Kele Calamari Express” Toney, a good boxer does not a good MMA fighter make. The fact that Butterbean’s first foray into the world of mixed martial arts was against the 155-pound Genki Sudo, whom he lost to by second round cankle hook, should have told us all we needed to know about where his career was headed. The man literally lacks the ability to get to his feet once placed on his back, and you allow him to compete in a sport that is 50% ground fighting? Yeah, I’m really looking forward to Kyle Maynard’s upcoming run on the PGA tour as well. Hear he’s got a great short game.
Does anyone honestly think it was a coincidence that Butterbean fought Zuluzinho at what would be PRIDE’s final event? You ignorant sluts. Butterbean was the kind of freak show publicity stunt that finally backfired on the Japanese, resulting in the death of one of the greatest MMA promotions to ever exist. Butterbean would have a similar effect on the woefully misguided YAMMA pit fighting promotion almost a year to the day later, when he fought Patrick Smith in what would go down in the history books as an American tragedy on par with the USS Indianapolis.
Of all the embarrassing, not to mention brutal knockouts in the MMA career of James Thompson, I imagine that his loss to Butterbean at Cage Rage 20 is the first thing he thinks of every morning and is the sole reason he cries himself to sleep every night. Minowaman *dropkicked* Butterbean’s fat ass and armbarred him within a round, yet Thompson is forced to attend hypnosis classes every single day to try and erase the memory of the time he was KO’d by Portly McT-RexArms. That is some kind of hell I don’t even want to imagine.
Butterbean’s last MMA fight (for now) took place in October of 2011, with Esch tapping to strikes in under a minute, go figure. Worse than that? He lost to a guy named Sandy. Sandy. There is no recovering from that.
For those uninitiated, Sobriety Fighter is my own side-project. I’ve dedicated 2013 to being a year-long experiment where I spend one year as a full-time fighter while also attempting to stay clean and sober. I can’t promise that I’ll be the next Elias Cepeda or that I’ll never relapse, but I can promise that I’ll do my absolute best for everyone. Most of the stuff I post isn’t particularly MMA-related, but this is. Enjoy. – [SethFalvo]
(SF) How do you feel that the lifestyle of a professional fighter has enabled your addiction?
(DF) I started fighting during the first broadcast of the Ultimate Fighter and remember seeing Chris Leben getting drunk and being stupid and then going in and training balls the next day hung over. I glorified that. Being able to fight hard and party hard. Train hard even when drunk and hung over appealed to my vikingesque nature. Pretty soon I developed a name in the sport for being a bad ass drunk who could fight.
I could fight and drink and even though it was very taxing I could pull it off and loved the type of image it gave me. I thought it was so cool. I used to associate airports and flying with drinking and pretty soon I couldn’t fly if I wasn’t tore up from the floor up. I don’t even understand how I would manage to make it from Point A to Point B, but I remember many flights missing my plane and ending up back at the airport pub for another Guinness or shot of Jack. I can really relate to Josh Hamilton’s story because of our obvious similarities.
For those uninitiated, Sobriety Fighter is my own side-project. I’ve dedicated 2013 to being a year-long experiment where I spend one year as a full-time fighter while also attempting to stay clean and sober. I can’t promise that I’ll be the next Elias Cepeda or that I’ll never relapse, but I can promise that I’ll do my absolute best for everyone. Most of the stuff I post isn’t particularly MMA-related, but this is. Enjoy. – [SethFalvo]
(SF) How do you feel that the lifestyle of a professional fighter has enabled your addiction?
(DF) I started fighting during the first broadcast of the Ultimate Fighter and remember seeing Chris Leben getting drunk and being stupid and then going in and training balls the next day hung over. I glorified that. Being able to fight hard and party hard. Train hard even when drunk and hung over appealed to my vikingesque nature. Pretty soon I developed a name in the sport for being a bad ass drunk who could fight.
I could fight and drink and even though it was very taxing I could pull it off and loved the type of image it gave me. I thought it was so cool. I used to associate airports and flying with drinking and pretty soon I couldn’t fly if I wasn’t tore up from the floor up. I don’t even understand how I would manage to make it from Point A to Point B, but I remember many flights missing my plane and ending up back at the airport pub for another Guinness or shot of Jack. I can really relate to Josh Hamilton’s story because of our obvious similarities.
What went through your mind when Dana White cut you from the UFC over your behavior outside the cage? Did you try to get sober after that experience?
I thought, “Man, I need a drink.”
I felt pretty upset that were singling me out after an incident that was simply getting kicked out of a bar for not having a collared shirt. I felt like a victim ’cause guys like Junie Brownie and Jesse Taylor were given several chances to clean up their act – even commended for their actions which brought great ratings to the show – but you know it really just comes to taking responsibility for my actions and realizing life isn’t fair. And the more powerful and influential you become, the more unfair it’s gonna seem, and the more people are gonna try to tear you from your perch.
Would you consider the Ritch fight your “Rock Bottom,” or was there a different incident that comes to mind?
Absolutely not. That was a rough weekend.
What comes to mind: Checking out of the psyche ward for a suicide attempt just to go into a bender in an apartment where I was partying for four days straight with a schizophrenic Vietnam vet who suffers from severe PTSD. I woke up laying in my own shit, vomit and piss. My hand was terribly cut open and my blood was everywhere. The smell was so unbearable that my bum friend Sergeant Steen couldn’t even stick around. I had to be admitted into the hospital because I had a severe Mersa infection in my hand where the doctors talked to me about possible amputation.
Step Nine involves making amends with those you have hurt because of your addiction. Have you ever gotten to make amends to everyone in the MMA industry? Do you feel that there are some people in this business who you don’t owe an apology to?
The first people that I made amends to were my very close friends and family. I’m sure there still remain people that are upset at me for one thing or another. It’s very likely that there are things that I’ve done that I can’t even remember, so if you are listening to this and you still hold resentment towards me, I am truly sorry. Blessings be upon you and I pray that Jesus Christ should enter your life and take all of your disdain and contempt, turning you into a loving grateful individual.
Check out the rest of Seth’s fantastic interview with Fickett over at SobrietyFighter.
Surreal. That’s a pretty apt description of most Anderson Silva fights, for better or worse. Dodging Forrest Griffin’s strikes like he was in the Matrix, standing on the cage against Stephan Bonnar, front-kicking Vitor Belfort in the face? Surreal. Dancing around Thales Leites and shouting “where’s your jiu-jitsu now, playboy?” at Demian Maia? Surreal.
But those pale in comparison to what happened last night. What happened last night, when Silva lost for the first time in seventeen fights because he pushed the envelope too far, was the definition of surreal. For the sake of trying to comprehend what happened, let’s recapitulate for a moment. The first round saw Chris Weidman, the new middleweight kingpin of the UFC, take Silva down. Faced with the area in which he was most vulnerable, Silva deftly rolled with what ground and pound Weidman offered and defended any submission attempts before getting back to his feet. The rest of the round was spent taunting Weidman and stuffing any attempts at taking the fight to the ground. At the end of the round, Silva inexplicably hugged Weidman before returning to his corner.
When the second round began, Silva was in complete control, mocking Weidman’s attempts to hurt him. It was a performance unlike any other. But Silva strayed too far to the edge; caught with his chin up in the middle of a Weidman combination, he was felled by a left hook. His eyes rolled back; he was out before he hit the ground, where Weidman followed with a salvo of ground and pound that was merely a formality. Somehow, Silva had lost his title even more than Weidman had won it.
Surreal. That’s a pretty apt description of most Anderson Silva fights, for better or worse. Dodging Forrest Griffin’s strikes like he was in the Matrix, standing on the cage against Stephan Bonnar, front-kicking Vitor Belfort in the face? Surreal. Dancing around Thales Leites and shouting “where’s your jiu-jitsu now, playboy?” at Demian Maia? Surreal.
But those pale in comparison to what happened last night. What happened last night, when Silva lost for the first time in seventeen fights because he pushed the envelope too far, was the definition of surreal. For the sake of trying to comprehend what happened, let’s recapitulate for a moment. The first round saw Chris Weidman, the new middleweight kingpin of the UFC, take Silva down. Faced with the area in which he was most vulnerable, Silva deftly rolled with what ground and pound Weidman offered and defended any submission attempts before getting back to his feet. The rest of the round was spent taunting Weidman and stuffing any attempts at taking the fight to the ground. At the end of the round, Silva inexplicably hugged Weidman before returning to his corner.
When the second round began, Silva was in complete control, mocking Weidman’s attempts to hurt him. It was a performance unlike any other. But Silva strayed too far to the edge; caught with his chin up in the middle of a Weidman combination, he was felled by a left hook. His eyes rolled back; he was out before he hit the ground, where Weidman followed with a salvo of ground and pound that was merely a formality. Somehow, Silva had lost his title even more than Weidman had won it.
Looking at it like that, as a sequence of events, it seems like what happened last night can be condensed into something that resembles a traditional narrative. Anderson Silva was clowning when he shouldn’t have been and paid the price. He shouldn’t have done it in the first place, and that’s why he lost. I’m not so sure it’s that simple. What made Silva great wasn’t just his win streak, it was how he won. How he transcended the bounds of what we thought was possible in combat sports, how his greatest challenge wasn’t the person standing across from him but the shadows of the performances he had to live up to and surpass. Like Icarus, he flew a little too high, strove to be something that no one could be. It turns out that Anderson Silva is not some deity of violence descended from the heavens, that he is prone to the same physical limits and temptations of hubris and grandeur that plague us lesser mortals. But that willingness to push those boundaries, to tempt fate and escape its consequences again and again, is what made Anderson Silva the best fighter in the history of the sport.
As for Weidman, the man has earned his time in the sun. His home was destroyed in Hurricane Sandy, he endured shoulder surgery and went an entire year without fighting. He deserves the money, the $50,000 Knockout of the Night bonus, the fame and the accolades that come with dethroning a legend. Regardless of how much Silva’s approach to the fight impacted the result, Weidman capitalized on an opportunity that no else managed to. There’s something to be said for that. With that said, if there will be an immediate rematch, I wouldn’t favor him. But then again, I was wrong about him last night.
Oh, there were some other fights too. Frankie Edgar and Charles Oliviera put together an entertaining, technical scrap tht shared Fight of the Night honors with Swanson vs. Siver. While there were momentum shifts, Edgar won all three rounds and finally got back on the right side of the win-loss column. Tim Kennedy managed to control Roger Gracie in an uneventful decision win and Mark Muñoz made a triumphant return to the Octagon in thrashing Tim Boetsch over three rounds. And to begin the night, Cub Swanson came back from a first round deficit to knock out Dennis Siver in the third in a contender for fight of the year.
But the story of the night was Silva. It always is when he fights, when he clowns, when he wins. But that’s not how last night unfolded. Anderson Silva was dethroned. It’s funny; when pressed to ask who he wished to fight, Silva would often respond “my clone.” Silva didn’t fight his clone last night, but he still managed to beat himself. I suppose that’s inexorable when you compete against your past accomplishments; sooner or later, you can’t go any higher. Last night, Anderson Silva flew too close to the sun and we were still shocked that he fell. With Silva, the rules seemed like they never applied. When they finally did, that was more surreal than anything else.
By the time that this is published, the ceremony that will make Stephan Bonnar an official member of the UFC Hall of Fame will be underway. Bonnar’s resume includes an 8-7 UFC record, a flawless 0-0 record in UFC title fights, two failed drug tests and the significance of his TUF Finale bout against Forrest Griffin – a fight so important to UFC history that it has its own Wikipedia page. Bonnar also is on good terms with Dana White, which is arguably the most important criterion for induction into what is supposedly the UFC’s highest honor.
Regardless of how you feel about Bonnar’s induction, that last sentence should make you feel uncomfortable. A company that already has trouble convincing non-fans that it isn’t glorified professional wrestling selects people into its hall of fame the same way that the WWE does – by allowing one person to dictate who is worthy of the honor. Both halls have some debatableinductions. Both halls have some notableomissions. Neither hall is taken seriously by most fans of either sport.
While many articles have been written about how Bonnar’s induction highlights everything that’s wrong with the UFC Hall of Fame selection process, pretty much none of them offered any solutions. Below you’ll find a few suggestions to fix the hall, as well as reasons that they may not work. Let’s start off with the most obvious fix…
(Well? Photo courtesy of Getty Images.)
By the time that this is published, the ceremony that will make Stephan Bonnar an official member of the UFC Hall of Fame will be underway. Bonnar’s resume includes an 8-7 UFC record, a flawless 0-0 record in UFC title fights, two failed drug tests and the significance of his TUF Finale bout against Forrest Griffin – a fight so important to UFC history that it has its own Wikipedia page. Bonnar also is on good terms with Dana White, which is arguably the most important criterion for induction into what is supposedly the UFC’s highest honor.
Regardless of how you feel about Bonnar’s induction, that last sentence should make you feel uncomfortable. A company that already has trouble convincing non-fans that it isn’t glorified professional wrestling selects people into its hall of fame the same way that the WWE does – by allowing one person to dictate who is worthy of the honor. Both halls have some debatableinductions. Both halls have some notableomissions. Neither hall is taken seriously by most fans of either sport.
While many articles have been written about how Bonnar’s induction highlights everything that’s wrong with the UFC Hall of Fame selection process, pretty much none of them offered any solutions. Below you’ll find a few suggestions to fix the hall, as well as reasons that they may not work. Let’s start off with the most obvious fix…
Let the Journalists Vote
Why it would work – Because that’s pretty much what every legitimate Hall of Fame does. It may not make too much of a difference as to who gets inducted (more on that in a second), but at least then we’ll be able to take the hall seriously.
Why it wouldn’t work – Or will we? If the only journalists who are allowed to vote are those who are on good terms with the UFC – and unwilling to do anything to jeopardize this – the results will inevitably be just as biased as those adorable “official UFC rankings.”
Let the Fans Vote
Why it would work – Because halls of fame are for the fans in the first place, so why not let them decide who they want in them? Also, current UFC Hall of Famer Tito Ortiz seems to believe it would work. Via MMA Junkie:
“I think [the Hall of Fame selection process] should be a fan vote,” Ortiz said. “That’s what it should really come down to. The fans should consider how much they’ve known the person, how much they’ve watched them fight and so forth and just how much the fighter had significance in the sport in general. I think that’s the answer.”
Why it wouldn’t work – How’s this for irony: Ortiz doesn’t think that Bonnar deserves to be in the hall of fame, but thinks that allowing the fans to induct their favorite the most worthy fighters is the solution. If you’re even slightly familiar with the voting process for the NBA All Star Game, then this requires zero explanation. If you aren’t familiar with it – and were too lazy to click the two links in this section – then let’s just say that guys like Bonnar would only be more likely to be inducted into the hall if the fans were allowed to vote.
Mark Cuban’s Weighted Fan Vote
Why it would work – The problem with letting the people vote on the Internet is that anyone with an unhealthy obsession with an athlete and too much free time can significantly affect the outcome, regardless of how often they even watch the sport. In an attempt to fix this, Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban offered a solution – count votes cast in arenas during events twice as much as Internet votes. This not only rewards fans who are loyal enough to buy tickets to events, but also helps ensure that votes from educated fans aren’t immediately cancelled out by votes from people looking to troll the election. Win/win.
Why it wouldn’t work – At best, counting arena votes twice as much as Internet votes is like putting a Band-Aid on a gaping wound; if you’re trolling an election online, you aren’t just voting once. At worst, keep in mind that it’s estimated that as much as 60% of a sporting event’s live gate comes from casual fans, which means that the Affliction clad oaf who thinks Brock Lesnar is the best fighter on the planet would now havetwice as much influence on the outcome as the hardcore MMA fans watching the event from home.
Use Statistics
Why it would work – If the current problem facing the UFC Hall of Fame is human bias, then adding even more humans to the mix isn’t going to fix anything. Let’s just take a look at the stats – Win/loss record, takedown percentage, strikes landed; etc. – and let the numbers determine who really belongs in the hall of fame.
Why it wouldn’t work – The fighter who has landed the second-most strikes in UFC history, the third-most takedowns and left the organization with a 14-3-1 UFC record isn’t a member of the UFC Hall of Fame. Is this proof that we need to use statistics to determine who should be in the hall?
With surprisingly little reaction from the MMA blogosphere, martial arts pioneer Jim Kelly passed away over the weekend at the age of sixty-seven years old. Odds are pretty good that you recognize Kelly as Williams from Enter The Dragon, but his legacy is far greater than just that one role. Armed with his signature afro, one-liners and arsenal of kicks, Kelly broke the color-barrier for black actors in martial arts films at a time when the genre was almost exclusively reserved for Asian martial artists.
Aside from being one of the most instantly recognizable martial artists on the planet, Kelly also found the time to become a professional tennis player, an enthusiastic MMA fan, and a popular draw at conventions such as San Diego Comic-Con International. So in memory of Kelly, we’ve compiled videos of some of his greatest fights, interviews, and even some footage of him playing tennis. Enjoy.
Kelly and Lee working on fight scenes for Enter the Dragon.
With surprisingly little reaction from the MMA blogosphere, martial arts pioneer Jim Kelly passed away over the weekend at the age of sixty-seven years old. Odds are pretty good that you recognize Kelly as Williams from Enter The Dragon, but his legacy is far greater than just that one role. Armed with his signature afro, one-liners and arsenal of kicks, Kelly broke the color-barrier for black actors in martial arts films at a time when the genre was almost exclusively reserved for Asian martial artists.
Aside from being one of the most instantly recognizable martial artists on the planet, Kelly also found the time to become a professional tennis player, an enthusiastic MMA fan, and a popular draw at conventions such as San Diego Comic-Con International. So in memory of Kelly, we’ve compiled videos of some of his greatest fights, interviews, and even some footage of him playing tennis. Enjoy.
Kelly and Lee working on fight scenes for Enter the Dragon.
“Please understand, if I missed anyone, it’s been a big day. I’m a little tired.”
Arguably the most famous line of his career. Don’t even dream about pulling this line off as effortlessly as Kelly.
Highlights from Black Belt Jones, a blaxploitation staple.
Since we’re still on Black Belt Jones, we might as well include this scene.
If we ever do a “Greatest Fight Scene” Roundtable, this gem from Three the Hard Way already has my vote locked up.
The Tattoo Connection, in its entirety.
Same thing for One Down, Two To Go.
Included for scenes and facts about his tennis career.
Kelly makes a special contribution to a Lebron James Nike commercial in 2004.
Kelly on Fedor and Strikeforce back in 2010. For more of Kelly talking about the Gracies and the UFC in 2010, check out this and this.