For Jon Jones and Daniel Cormier, no hyperbole needed

Now that the thing is (finally) close at hand, Daniel Cormier and Jon Jones have grown professionally tolerant of one another. When they appeared on a 30-minute media call on Monday to kick off Fight Week, neither was talking about spitting in the other’s face, or killing anybody, or falsely putting on airs (or telling the other that he was falsely putting on airs). It was just two guys pretty respectfully peeling their fingers back one-by-one in countdown to the day they can swing freely under sanctioned rules.

And at last, that day is near. Saturday night at UFC 182 in Las Vegas either Jones will solidify his spot atop the worldly charts, or Cormier will gleam like kryptonite as he tries his new belt on. In any case, this is the best, most anticipated fight in a long, long time. Three days into 2015 we will have an event that 2014 could never produce. Cormier, the condensed heavyweight who’s never been challenged, against Jones, the freakish athlete with the shadow climbing up the wall.

Fights like this rarely come together. As guest narrator Anthony Bourdain said in the “Bad Blood” lead-up show, “They’re now celestial bodies on a collision course, where extreme violence is the only absolute.” I would call it a superfight if I didn’t think that such abstractions might take away from how super it actually is. However, I will say this, because brother it’s been a long journey to get here: It’s okay to be excited.

People who don’t care for barefoot fighting at all care in moments such as these. People who follow the sport religiously find themselves downplaying the fight as a way to curb wild expectation. That kind of superstitious counter-jinxing comes with the psychology of big fights.

It’s okay to do that, too.

Back in summer, the idea of Jones and Cormier getting locked up together in a caged environment sort of felt too good to be true. As soon as UFC CEO Lorenzo Fertitta told ESPN that Jones’ next title defense would be a rematch with Alexander Gustafsson, Cormier — a Contender 1B who has been “consumed” by Jones since a disrespectful encounter many moons ago — appeared ready for the operating table to fix his knee. Jones was in a contract dispute of sorts, and was leveraging by/through demanding Cormier — which was bold, because Cormier, in the minds of many, was the one guy Jones wasn’t a slam-dunk to win against.

When Gustafsson got hurt, Cormier was in. His knee felt better instantly. Figuratively speaking, the partition came down for a big-time momentum clash between a Great Champion and a challenger capable of stealing both the adjective and the noun.

Then the partition came down literally in August when the two squared off for the radar press conference to mark the calendars for UFC 178.

By now you know what happened. Jones with the forehead, Cormier with the shove, and the UFC’s vice president of public relations Dave Sholler through the backdrop like a paper football through the uprights. Then came the chaos, the flying shoe and Jones’ atavistic howl…the pleasantries on SportsCenter…the hot mic with the death threats that fortuitously leaked…Jones injury and postponement to UFC 182…Nevada court hearings, disciplinary action, community service…Jon Jones emerging as real through the artificial wilderness…Daniel Cormier as hell-bent through the lessons of bullydom…contrition! (but not really!)…cameras, lights, anticipation.

It’s no wonder that as we hit Fight Week there’s a resigned civility to the proceedings; Jones and Cormier have already been through one glorious stretch of hell together. They have endured the long, twisting path to each other.

“The rivalry is still there, but Jon and I haven’t fought,” Cormier said during Monday’s press call. “We haven’t fought before. When I think of rivalries I think of fights or sporting events where you have people going back and forth. I think of the Lakers and Celtics, I think great trilogy fights, I think football teams that are rivals that are pretty equal. We haven’t fought.

“But in terms of the heat between us, I don’t think that’s going anywhere. I think that now you see two guys who are only six days away from fighting. What’s the point of us yelling and screaming at each other anymore? That’s done. Before it was all we could do to get to each other because we were so far away from the fight. The fight’s only [a few days away] now, there’s no point to that anymore. All that arguing, all the yelling, all the name-calling, it motivated me through my training, but it serves no more purpose.”

He’s right, too. The arguing, the yelling, the name-calling, the feud, the brawl, the leaked footage — all of that belongs to the past. The great thing about the build-up in this sport is that it leads to a fight, the most satisfactory resolution yet invented for those with extreme and literal tastes. Everything that went into building Daniel Cormier and everything that went into building Jon Jones will come out this weekend. Saturday night in Vegas is the definitive place and time to resolve things.

And for that, hey, it’s okay to be excited.

Now that the thing is (finally) close at hand, Daniel Cormier and Jon Jones have grown professionally tolerant of one another. When they appeared on a 30-minute media call on Monday to kick off Fight Week, neither was talking about spitting in the other’s face, or killing anybody, or falsely putting on airs (or telling the other that he was falsely putting on airs). It was just two guys pretty respectfully peeling their fingers back one-by-one in countdown to the day they can swing freely under sanctioned rules.

And at last, that day is near. Saturday night at UFC 182 in Las Vegas either Jones will solidify his spot atop the worldly charts, or Cormier will gleam like kryptonite as he tries his new belt on. In any case, this is the best, most anticipated fight in a long, long time. Three days into 2015 we will have an event that 2014 could never produce. Cormier, the condensed heavyweight who’s never been challenged, against Jones, the freakish athlete with the shadow climbing up the wall.

Fights like this rarely come together. As guest narrator Anthony Bourdain said in the “Bad Blood” lead-up show, “They’re now celestial bodies on a collision course, where extreme violence is the only absolute.” I would call it a superfight if I didn’t think that such abstractions might take away from how super it actually is. However, I will say this, because brother it’s been a long journey to get here: It’s okay to be excited.

People who don’t care for barefoot fighting at all care in moments such as these. People who follow the sport religiously find themselves downplaying the fight as a way to curb wild expectation. That kind of superstitious counter-jinxing comes with the psychology of big fights.

It’s okay to do that, too.

Back in summer, the idea of Jones and Cormier getting locked up together in a caged environment sort of felt too good to be true. As soon as UFC CEO Lorenzo Fertitta told ESPN that Jones’ next title defense would be a rematch with Alexander Gustafsson, Cormier — a Contender 1B who has been “consumed” by Jones since a disrespectful encounter many moons ago — appeared ready for the operating table to fix his knee. Jones was in a contract dispute of sorts, and was leveraging by/through demanding Cormier — which was bold, because Cormier, in the minds of many, was the one guy Jones wasn’t a slam-dunk to win against.

When Gustafsson got hurt, Cormier was in. His knee felt better instantly. Figuratively speaking, the partition came down for a big-time momentum clash between a Great Champion and a challenger capable of stealing both the adjective and the noun.

Then the partition came down literally in August when the two squared off for the radar press conference to mark the calendars for UFC 178.

By now you know what happened. Jones with the forehead, Cormier with the shove, and the UFC’s vice president of public relations Dave Sholler through the backdrop like a paper football through the uprights. Then came the chaos, the flying shoe and Jones’ atavistic howl…the pleasantries on SportsCenter…the hot mic with the death threats that fortuitously leaked…Jones injury and postponement to UFC 182…Nevada court hearings, disciplinary action, community service…Jon Jones emerging as real through the artificial wilderness…Daniel Cormier as hell-bent through the lessons of bullydom…contrition! (but not really!)…cameras, lights, anticipation.

It’s no wonder that as we hit Fight Week there’s a resigned civility to the proceedings; Jones and Cormier have already been through one glorious stretch of hell together. They have endured the long, twisting path to each other.

“The rivalry is still there, but Jon and I haven’t fought,” Cormier said during Monday’s press call. “We haven’t fought before. When I think of rivalries I think of fights or sporting events where you have people going back and forth. I think of the Lakers and Celtics, I think great trilogy fights, I think football teams that are rivals that are pretty equal. We haven’t fought.

“But in terms of the heat between us, I don’t think that’s going anywhere. I think that now you see two guys who are only six days away from fighting. What’s the point of us yelling and screaming at each other anymore? That’s done. Before it was all we could do to get to each other because we were so far away from the fight. The fight’s only [a few days away] now, there’s no point to that anymore. All that arguing, all the yelling, all the name-calling, it motivated me through my training, but it serves no more purpose.”

He’s right, too. The arguing, the yelling, the name-calling, the feud, the brawl, the leaked footage — all of that belongs to the past. The great thing about the build-up in this sport is that it leads to a fight, the most satisfactory resolution yet invented for those with extreme and literal tastes. Everything that went into building Daniel Cormier and everything that went into building Jon Jones will come out this weekend. Saturday night in Vegas is the definitive place and time to resolve things.

And for that, hey, it’s okay to be excited.