There’s something about Tokyo, Japan, that’s larger than life. Maybe it’s the bright lights, neon-stripped pathways to whatever pleasures you can imagine and some you’d never dream of in a million years.
Maybe it’s the people. Thousands of them. Millions. Teeming is the word most commonly used for a city that seems full to bursting. It’s a culture that rewards big things—ideas, personalities, athletes. Perhaps, that’s why Tito Ortiz was such a natural fit?
“They love characters. They love anyone who is what they want to be…I think I’m kind of bigger than life there. Think about a guy with bleached blond hair who’s a lot physically bigger than anyone else,” Ortiz told Bleacher Report in an exclusive interview. “In Japan there’s a place called the ‘four corners of the world.’ When the lights change, at one time there can be 2,500 people crossing the street. All you could see were 5’5″ heads of black hair as far as the eye could see. I’m 6’3″ and I’m standing above everyone and the fans are like ‘Wow, Tito, Tito.’ The fans there are crazy.”
Ortiz won the world championship there, beating the “Axe Murderer” Wanderlei Silva in five decisive rounds to replace the departed Frank Shamrock as what the UFC then referred to as the Middleweight Champion.
An earlier loss to Shamrock had opened Ortiz’s eyes. He rededicated himself to training and continued to grow as an athlete. Shamrock’s were big shoes. Ortiz, perhaps instinctively understanding the audience’s mindset, knew that in order to earn respect from the UFC’s fans he would have to do something monumental in scope.
In Abu Dhabi, home of the world submission fighting championships, he told UFC matchmaker Joe Silva that he wanted to fight the best. Silva came back with a name that drove fear into the hearts of most fighters. But not Tito Ortiz. To Ortiz, Wanderlei Silva was less a problem, more an opportunity.
“I think I slept with my belt for the first three weeks. It never left my bedside…It was a dream come true. An American dream. I was just a kid and a lot of people didn’t believe in me,” Ortiz said. “But I believed in myself. I was a kid that came from nothing and all of the sudden I was the champion of the world with hard work and dedication.“
Change is in the Air
The middleweight title that Ortiz wore around his waist in Japan is now called the light heavyweight title. That’s just a tiny difference, but it’s emblematic of a seismic change in the sport in the decade plus since the UFC last traveled to Japan. To say the MMA landscape has changed in that time is an understatement of the most epic proportions.
In 2000, the promotion was traveling into the heart of enemy territory, trying to take on the thriving Pride Fighting Championship on their own turf. The UFC, as hard as this is to imagine, was the underdog, a struggling business that was on the verge of total and permanent failure.
“I remember riding with my opponent the month before, driving down to our medicals,” UFC Hall of Famer Chuck Liddell, who fought on the undercard of that event said. In those days, the UFC didn’t send a car for each team. There just wasn’t the money for anything but the basics. “It was me and Jeff Monson and about an hour drive. We were sitting in the back, almost the trunk space, of an SUV. Our legs almost touching, staring at each other for an hour while we drove to get our medicals done.”
In the early days, Semaphore Entertainment Group was in a fight just to survive. Struggling to make payroll, sometimes even the legends of the sport were forced to travel by bus to backwoods venues in Alabama and Mississippi.
If the SEG’s UFC was an ill-fitting sweatsuit with a Full Contact Fighter logo airbrushed on slightly askew, the UFC under Frank and Lorenzo Fertitta was a custom-fitted designer suit. In the case of champion Tito Ortiz, that difference was more than a metaphor.
“Lorenzo got me a suit. He said ‘Tito, you’ve got to change your image. You’ve got to start dressing nicer.’ I’ve worn suits ever since,” Ortiz said. “Now you look around and see all the main guys wearing suits. I kind of started that whole trend. My first suit was an Armani. I remember him buying it for me for like $1500. I remember being so stoked. I couldn’t thank him enough. My first Armani suit. I looked sharp.”
Tito’s first defense was also in Tokyo, taking on local favorite Yuki Kondo. It was the last event of SEG’s seven-year stint as owners of the UFC. In a month, the Fertitta brothers would be taking over, and the UFC would implement a five-year plan that would make everyone rich.
“I’m thankful to Lorenzo Fertitta for giving me this opportunity. As a fighter, a father, as a man,” Ortiz said. “I’ve been able to do all the things I’ve always wanted to do with my life.”
The Ice(man) Age Starts in Japan
On the undercard, before they officially took over the promotion, the brothers were already making their presence known. Liddell’s sponsor that evening was the Fertitta’s Station Casinos.
“(Current UFC President) Dana (White) was my manager at the time, so I knew Frank and Lorenzo through him,” Liddell remembers. Although they kept their impending purchase of the UFC a secret, the changes that the brothers brought to the sport were huge. Lorenzo Fertitta had been a Nevada State Athletic Commission official, and believed strongly in things being done the right way. Stuff that used to fly under SEG, especially in a place like Japan, weren’t going to happen under the Fertitta’s watch.
“In Japan they used a scale with a circle in the center. Like a bathroom scale,” Liddell said, still not quite believing it. “Someone had broken it, and they couldn’t get another scale in there. You could lean one way or the other and change your weight five kilos, which is about ten pounds. I figured I could stop (weight) cutting. You could just lean one way and lose 10 pounds. Now, something like that would never happen. We have commissions and certified scales. It’s more fair for the fighters.”
Pride Before the Fall
Chuck dispatched with Monson by unanimous decision that night, but Liddell’s Japanese experience was far from over. He was hand selected by White to lead an invasion of Pride. The idea was simple—Liddell would fight for the competitor in a light heavyweight tournament, smash all of their fighters and come back to the UFC as a conquering hero. Reality, as usual, wasn’t quite ready to allow a fairy tale to come to life. Enter Quinton “Rampage” Jackson.
Jackson knocked Liddell out in the second round of the tournament, ending White’s dream of declaring dominance. Liddell believes his team made a tactical mistake in training. Instead of his regular routine, White brought in an All-Star team including then-welterweight champion Matt Hughes to help Chuck prepare. Liddell thinks he’d have been better off at the Pit with his normal sparring partners and coach John Hackleman.
“That was a mistake,” Liddell said. “Looking back, making a big change right before such a big fight is not always such a great thing. Dana’s intentions were good, and I think he tried to do the right things, but it was too much change, too fast.”
Saturday’s Showdown
Despite ending on a sour note at the hands of Jackson, Liddell enjoyed his time in Japan.
“I liked it a lot actually. I’d done Japanese martial arts since I was 12, so I was really interested in the culture and going and checking things out. It was really cool.”
Ortiz, too, remembers his time in Japan fondly. He feels positive that the UFC can help reignite the fading Japanese MMA scene with a great show this weekend.
“This is an exciting UFC. Ben Henderson and Frankie Edgar for the lightweight championship of the world. “Rampage” Jackson against Ryan Bader—I think Rampage is going to crush Bader, and it’ll be an exciting fight to watch. I can’t wait for Saturday night,” Ortiz said. “I think the UFC has really worked hand in hand with all of the Japanese businesses there. So I think this is the start. They’ll be back more times in the future.”
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