UFC 187: What We Learned, Loved and Hated

UFC 187 is now in the books, and our summer of UFC overload is just beginning. But in a sea of what should be mostly memorable UFC events seemingly every weekend for the next four months, UFC 187 will no doubt stand out in our memories, because it was …

UFC 187 is now in the books, and our summer of UFC overload is just beginning. But in a sea of what should be mostly memorable UFC events seemingly every weekend for the next four months, UFC 187 will no doubt stand out in our memories, because it was awesome. That’s the only real way to put it. 

Let’s take a look at what we loved, learned and hated from one of the better UFC main cards in recent memory. 

 

LEARNED: Chris Weidman is now a legitimate UFC superstar…or he should be, anyway

Last week, I spent time with Chris Weidman and his camp while reporting for the profile of the middleweight champion published Friday afternoon. If there is one surprising thing I learned about the UFC’s middleweight champion and those who surround him, it’s that they didn’t quite understand why the American public at large hasn’t latched on and turned him into a next-level UFC superstar.

He is young. He is good-looking. He is quite good at fighting. He has beaten Anderson Silva two times; that alone should have been enough to vault him into superstardom. But it didn’t, and Weidman went into his title defense against Vitor Belfort feeling a little disrespected and a little angry.

Maybe it’s the New York thing. Those of us in the parts of the country that are not New York are trained to chafe at the sound of the New Yawk accent, and maybe that feeling of “New York against the World” works against Weidman. But after Saturday, when he left Belfort lying in a pool of his own blood (and perhaps putting an emphatic end to the era of performance-enhancing drugs in the UFC in the process), Weidman implored the rest of the world to join his team, and noted that he’s not going to ask again.

If Weidman’s career arc so far isn’t enough to convince you that he’s worthy of your time, your dollars and your respect, well, I don’t know what to tell you. In short order, he has ascended the list of greatest UFC champions. This is not to say he is approaching the list of the best pound-for-pound fighters ever, or even that he’s the top fighter currently in the sport.

But he’s up there, and he’s marketable, and he is a breathtaking fighter. And if you’re staying off the team or claiming Weidman is anything but one of the best fighters currently in the sport, well, I don’t know how to help you.

 

LOVED: Andrei Arlovski, Travis Browne combine for the best one-round fight ever

It was Thursday afternoon when a friend here in Vegas, one who is well-connected to various camps in the fight industry, mentioned that Andrei Arlovski had injured his calf on Wednesday morning and nearly pulled out of his fight with Travis Browne. And I thought to myself, well, perhaps that is for the best if he does pull out, because Browne is probably going to hurt this old man badly. Maybe sitting in his hotel room or watching from Hooters across the street wasn’t the worst idea for Mr. Arlovski.

Instead of surrounding himself with chicken wings, cigarette smoke and a lack of self-respect (all three things are in abundance at Hooters), Arlovski chose to fight. Thank the violence gods he made this decision, because what he ended up participating in was one of the best single-round fights in the history of the UFC.

Certainly, it was a bout that will be remembered at the end of the year when various phantom awards are handed out across the world. It had everything: an aging underdog and former champion somehow hurting the young, manly bearded super-prospect and sending the crowd in attendance into raptures. Arlovski continued hurting Browne, even making him do this little wobbly legged jig that made me laugh out loud right there, in the middle of all that violence and shouting.

And then Browne, perhaps sensing his own impending doom, fought back like an animal, swinging his fists blindly and hoping he’d hit something, anything. He did, and what he hit was Arlovski’s face, and the former heavyweight champion went down in a heap. But then Arlovski got back up and regained something resembling his senses and stopped Browne, finally, mercifully, to continue one of the more unlikely career rebound stories I can remember.

After the fight, and before Bruce Buffer read the official decision, Arlovski apologized to Browne. Specifically for what, I do not know, though I can only imagine it had something to do with shaving a few years off Browne’s career by beating the crap out of him and preventing him from reaching the heavyweight division’s championship tier just yet.

“Don’t you ever apologize,” Browne said.

I agree. Don’t you ever apologize, Andrei. Not when you deliver heart-stopping performances like this one.

 

HATED: Antics are now a substitute for actual performances

I am a longtime fan of professional wrestling. My writing career began in high school, when I started “covering” pro wrestling on newsgroups (raise your hand if you remember newsgroups) and on AOL chat rooms and message boards. That was a long time ago, of course, though I still watch wrestling (mostly the WWE’s developmental program, NXT) to this day.

The point is that I understand promotion and how to promote fights. I have always been a huge proponent of fighters taking their careers into their own hands, and I shudder when Joe Rogan or Jon Anik, during a post-fight interview, ask them who they want to fight and they mutter something about the matchmakers and how it’s not their job to call other fighters out when yes, it is absolutely their job to call other fighters out.

But what I’m not a fan of is fighters bypassing hard work because they believe they can just act like a fool and earn big fights and title shots. They believe this because it’s true, of course, and never has this been more evident than when Ryan Bader rushed the stage during the post-fight press conference and set up a moment with Daniel Cormier that teetered between embarrassing and sad.

It was sad not because of Cormier, who is a longtime pro wrestling fan and is perhaps one of the absolute best in the sport at selling himself, his opponents and the moment through his work on the microphone.

The sad part was watching people—including media members who’d previously scoffed at the notion of Bader deserving a title shot—suddenly change their tune and froth at the mouth over the idea of Cormier and Bader facing off.

Bader hasn’t faced top competition and doesn’t deserve a title shot. Wait, they screamed at each other and made us laugh during a press conference? They sent mean tweets to each other? Oh my sweet Jesus, I can’t wait to see them fight.

That’s where the sport stands in 2015. Bader hasn’t beaten anyone of note; his best career win was a split decision over Phil Davis, and that should tell you all you need to know about his standing in the division. And yet he’ll probably get the chance to be destroyed by Cormier, all because he sent a bunch of tweets directed at the new champion and then acted like an idiot at a press conference.

If you weren’t certain before, you should be now: We’re all a bunch of marks.

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