The injury bug has made an impact yet again at UFC 155. This time, middleweight Karlos Vemola has withdrawn from his fight with Chris Leben due to injury.Stepping in for Vemola to fight Leben is Derek Brunson, a Strikeforce veteran with a record of 9-2…
The injury bug has made an impact yet again at UFC 155. This time, middleweight KarlosVemola has withdrawn from his fight with Chris Leben due to injury.
Stepping in for Vemola to fight Leben is Derek Brunson, a Strikeforce veteran with a record of 9-2. This news was broken via mmajunkie.com.
The fight between Leben and Brunson will take place on the main card, which comes to viewers via pay-per-view.
Leben will be returning from a year-long suspension, as he failed a drug test last year. That drug test came after his loss to Mark Munoz, which was adding insult to injury.
Prior to the suspension and loss, Leben had won four of his last five, including knockouts of Wanderlei Silva and Aaron Simpson, as well as a triangle choke win over YoshihiroAkiyama.
His only loss in that span came to Brian Stann, who knocked him out at UFC 125.
As for Brunson, the four-time Strikeforce veteran started off his career with nine straight wins, which included seven first-round finishes. He has defeated notables Nate James and Lumumba Sayers in Strikeforce.
He enters the UFC on a two-fight skid. He lost a close, controversial split decision to Kendall Grove in the regional circuit and then suffered a quick knockout loss to Ronaldo Souza.
That was followed up by a bid to make it on The Ultimate Fighter 17. He was accepted onto the show’s cast, but that would be blocked by Showtime, the distributor of Strikeforce.
It looks like Brunson will make out alright, as he will make it directly to the UFC instead of going through the TUFhouse. However, he has a tough road ahead of him, as Leben is a heavy hitter.
Saturday’s featured middleweight bout between Tom Lawlor and Francis Carmont was supposed to serve as a thrilling affair that would likely push Carmont into the upper echelon of the promotion’s division. It ended up being a snoozefest that …
Saturday’s featured middleweight bout between Tom Lawlor and Francis Carmont was supposed to serve as a thrilling affair that would likely push Carmont into the upper echelon of the promotion’s division. It ended up being a snoozefest that consisted of a whole lot of wall and stall.
Don’t get me wrong, I was strangely entertained by the fight, and that was probably a result of the intrigue surrounding this specific collision. Could Carmont put away a rugged, dangerous guy like Lawlor? Would Lawlor finally snag a major victory for the promotion?
The answer in both cases was no.
Carmont turned in a somewhat timid performance, and while he was able to exit the cage victorious, the fight probably didn’t do too much to gain him many new fans. Lawlor, meanwhile, came up just short of derailing the highly touted prospect.
Carmont’s takedown defense and reach kept him out of serious danger, and Lawlor’s ability to close the distance without sustaining too much damage kept him alive in the fight.
What ensued was a spicy wrestling match that took place, for the most part, from the upright position.
It wasn’t particularly exciting, and it failed to produce the answers so many sought heading into the fight.
We’re still completely unsure of how Francis will perform against a top-tier middleweight, and we’re still uncertain of just how far Lawlor can go in the division. In the grand scheme of things, one could actually label last night’s meeting as irrelevant.
We learned absolutely nothing from watching these two men fight. Carmont is still unbeaten inside the Octagon, but Lawlor certainly isn’t, and if he wants to remain employed by the largest MMA promotion in the world, he’s going to need to pick up a few big wins.
Bushido is the way of the warrior—the way of Samurai life. Forged in feudal Japan, Bushido demands bravery and honor unto death. It’s interwoven with the fabric of martial arts. I’ve noticed that fans are quick to label MMA fighters as “war…
Bushido is the way of the warrior—the way of Samurai life. Forged in feudal Japan, Bushido demands bravery and honor unto death. It’s interwoven with the fabric of martial arts.
I’ve noticed that fans are quick to label MMA fighters as “warriors,” a delusion that fighters themselves believe. A fighter who fancies himself a “warrior” adheres to Bushido’s ancient code: Never surrender. A Samurai’s pride is swollen; he’ll never acknowledge defeat until he’s cold and limp. Neither will many mixed martial artists.
Many fighters brandish a Samurai’s spirit every time they’re locked in the Octagon. Bravery billows off of these “warriors” like smoke. They are revered as heroes, but that reverence can come at a price. Is Bushido archaic and reckless, or should we honor fighters who refuse to tap?
Guys like EnsonInoue, Chris Leben, Cheick Kongo and Urijah Faber among others have embodied Bushido. Inoue fell victim to monstrous beatdowns throughout his career, but he never submitted. Leben and Kongo have refused to tap, while Faber continued to fight Mike Brown at WEC 41 despite breaking his right hand in the middle of the fight.
Conversely, Georges St-Pierre and Mauricio Rua have each tapped to strikes, thereby shielding their health and future. Despite “giving up,” their accolades are exalted and their legacies are grand. You’ll find few objectors to the fact that Georges and “Shogun” are gushing with pride.
LyotoMachida is perhaps MMA’s most hyperbolic “warrior.” That’s partially due to his extensive training in Japanese martial arts. Inheritor of Samurai blood, Machida would “rather die than tap,” as he stated during his post-fight interview at UFC 84.
Machida supported that claim by refusing to give up after Tito Ortiz wrapped him in a triangle choke, and again when Jon Jones dropped him to the blood-soaked canvas with a guillotine choke at UFC 140.
I admire Lyoto Machida. I think his stubbornness is visceral and charming. Lyoto’s charm, however, doesn’t cloak his dangerous choices. In fact, there are severe consequences that come with refusing to tap.
Martialarts.com expounds the dangers of not tapping: blood chokes cut off cerebral blood flow (CBF). When CBF is blocked, brain tissue can be damaged or even die. Moreover, windpipe chokes compress the trachea, which can cause permanent tissue damage among a slew of other health issues. The outcome of allowing joint manipulation is obvious: Bones will shatter.
A broken bone demands time to heal. Time is a precious commodity for fighters. By discarding months of time that could be spent training and fighting, a sidelined fighter limits his career prospects and his earnings.
If a “warrior” submits to an armbar instead of permitting his arm to be snapped, he’s saving himself needless pain and months of inactivity. Alas, I’m afraid doing the sensible thing (tapping) comes at the expense of looking like a pansy.
By esteeming themselves as too honorable to submit, guys like Machida risk their careers, health and lives. Lyoto would be unable to purvey a warrior’s spirit if he was brain-dead or crippled. Grave injury is a possibility that crawls closer to reality every time MMA “warriors” refuse to submit.
Machida and his fellow Octagon “warriors” would be wise to shed the gruesome aspects of Bushido from their lives.
The life of a professional fighter is filled with uncertainty; their successes and failures play out in the public eye for all to see. When the cage door closes and the battle of wills begin, it becomes a matter of opportunity. One walks away victoriou…
The life of a professional fighter is filled with uncertainty; their successes and failures play out in the public eye for all to see.
When the cage door closes and the battle of wills begin, it becomes a matter of opportunity. One walks away victorious, the other defeated, the outcome sometimes determined by only the slightest of margins.
What happens under the bright lights is what the fans are left to debate, but rarely are they given a glimpse into what it takes to make the walk to the cage in the first place.
This is what the climb looks like.
This is the fighting life.
The places we come from and the circumstances that surround us often play tremendous roles in the people we become. Those variables shape and bend us in various directions, but it is up to the people themselves to ultimately submit to those circumstances or rise above them.
Chris Leben has been fighting battles his entire life.
Whether those clashes play out at close distance, where violence is a fast-twitch muscle reaction away or out of the spotlight where the battle is waged in the darkness of solitude, the fight always continues.
The greater problem lies in the fact Leben has always known he is durable. Through the hard knocks of his upbringing to the wars that have made him famous inside of a cage, Leben is a survivor. The engine turns over, the sparks fly, and for better or worse, he will trudge forward through the storm.
But what happens when the rain doesn’t subside? For Leben, the choice was simple: he was either going to drown or fight harder than he ever had.
Long before he was known to the fighting world as “The Crippler,” the now 32-year-old fighter was simply a kid looking for an outlet, and one phone call change his life forever.
“I was a big fan of the UFC as a kid,” Leben told Bleacher Report in an exclusive interview. “I remember watching the very first UFC fights. One of my old friends always reminds me that when I was in sixth grade I was telling him I was going to be a UFC fighter.
“I wrestled in high school. After high school, if you don’t go onto college, that is the end of competition for most people. For me, about two years after high school it turns out my brother calls me and he’s selling cars out of this car lot U.S.A. Auto Wholesale. He calls me and says, ‘Hey…Matt Lindland and Randy Couture are in the back of this building beating the s*** out of each other.’ I flew down there to see for myself, and that was at the very beginning of Team Quest.
“I liked the camaraderie, seeing the same people everyday, and it was fun. But the switch kind of turned after my very first fight. I invited everyone I knew and I was super-nervous. I ended up winning and that was it, man. There was nothing else in the world that existed after winning that first fight and having that feeling. I was hooked.”
Under the tutelage of future legends and spurred on by the angst of youth, Leben hit the regional scene like a hurricane. He tore his way up and down the west coast, leaving a path of victims in his wake. On the strength of his performances, Leben began to build a name as he won 10 out of his first 11 outings.
Everything appeared to be building up to something larger. When the UFC cast Leben on the inaugural season of its new reality show The Ultimate Fighter, his childhood dream became a reality.
What came to pass on the first season made reality show history. A volatile Leben mixed with the antagonism of Josh Koscheck made the series something fans couldn’t miss on a weekly basis. It was an experience that would forever change the lives of all involved, and it’s something Leben reflects upon fondly.
“Being on the show was pretty much one of those life-changing times in my life,” Leben said. “We were filming the show and none of us knew whether or not that season was going to air or not. At that age, I certainly didn’t understand. Hell, I don’t know if any of us understood the impact that regular TV like that has.
“For my personal life, it was huge. It definitely marked that shift. People were recognizing me wherever I went in the world. As far as the UFC goes, that was my entire goal. Throughout my life, even before the show, my one goal was to make it to the UFC.”
Leben emerged from the show with a fan following and his performances right out of the gate only elevated his status. The UFC pitted him against a host of seasoned veterans to test his mettle, and with grit and determination, Leben found victory. Despite not winning the six-figure contract awarded to the show’s winner, Leben quickly proved he deserved to be on the sport’s biggest stage.
“The way they started me out was good because they put me on the Fight Nights, which were smaller shows,” Leben said. “That was good for me as opposed to throwing me into a big MGM type of pay-per-view type of event. There were only a couple thousand people there and while it was still a bit overwhelming, I think it was good for me.
“In the early part of my UFC career, I was a pretty confident individual. I think it had to do with my age more than anything. But if there was any moment when I really had that feeling that I really deserved to be here it was the victory over Patrick Cote.
“Dana came in the Octagon to shake my hand and he said, ‘Hey buddy, your stock just went up.’ Just having Dana say that to me, and having beat Cote, who we saw give Tito a run for his money. When we were on the show in the house, we watched that fight. For me to actually fight someone I’ve watched on TV, fighting on a big stage, I think that was really the moment when I realized I was where I needed to be.”
The hype behind Leben was at an all-time high, and it was a perfect match for his confidence. With brick hands and an iron chin, he was smashing through everyone the UFC put in his path.
Leben‘s streak of five consecutive victories placed him within reach of a title shot, but before he would be able to step up to the No. 1 contender slot, he would have to face a fresh face in the UFC named Anderson Silva.
“The Spider” was well known in the mixed martial arts world for the skills he displayed in the Pride organization in Japan. Silva was by all means a monster, but it wasn’t enough to dissuade Leben from taking the fight.
Stepping back just isn’t in his genetic make up, and he stepped into the Octagon ready to welcome Silva to the UFC is punishing fashion. Unfortunately for Leben, things went south quickly and ferociously.
“We knew Silva was going to be tough,” Leben said. “My head coach at the time was Matt Hume, who was the head judge for Pride, so obviously he was familiar with Anderson Silva. We knew he was going to be tough going into the fight, but at that time I kind of felt it was a big opportunity for me regardless.
“That is the only fight Matt Hume ever recommended to me not to take. But at the time, I assumed I would win. I figured I would be able to catch him at some point, and obviously that just didn’t happen. I was on such a roll. To be honest, going into that fight I really felt invincible.”
Following the loss to Silva, Leben hit a rough patch. He would find victory in only one of his next three fights and appeared to be well on his way to losing three in a row before a scoring dramatic knockout over fellow slugger Terry Martin late in the final round of their fight.
The victory seemed to reinvigorate Leben, and he punctuated the fact by earning a TKO over AlessioSakara in the first round of their meeting at UFC 82.
With two solid wins under his belt, the UFC matched him up with Season 3 TUF winner Michael Bisping. “The Count” had recently been pinned as the poster boy for the UFC’s “British Invasion,” and with their scrap at UFC 89 taking place in Birmingham, England, Leben knew he would have to do his best work behind enemy lines.
While he would ultimately come out on the losing end of a unanimous decision, the loss was not the worst thing to happen that night.
Shortly after the loss to Bisping, the news became public that Leben had tested positive for stanozolol, a banned performance-enhancing drug. For the failed test, Leben was issued a nine-month suspension and forced to forfeit a third of his fight purse.
The dark clouds began to gather above Leben‘s head. The suspension, coupled with a DUI from a year prior, began to paint an ominous picture that Leben was adrift in dangerous waters.
Leben remained out of the public eye for the duration of the suspension. He worked hard on refocusing his life and preparing for his return to the cage.
As the end of his sentence neared, the UFC announced the heavy-handed fan-favorite would face then undefeated middleweight Aaron Simpson. Leben knew he had something to prove to the world, but a personal grudge between the two fighters had Leben fired up and ready to go.
“In this sport you are constantly trying to re-invent and prove yourself,” Leben said. “At that time I felt I needed to go out and show the world I deserved to be there. I had to prove it was where I was supposed to be.
“When I went to fight Simpson he was undefeated at the time, and was also responsible for tearing out Ed Herman’s knee, who is my best friend. I was definitely motivated for the fight and when I go back and watch it, I would say it is one of my best, if not the best performance I’ve had in my career.”
Before Leben could relish the grudge match victory over Simpson, he agreed to step in to replace an injured Wanderlei Silva opposite YoshihiroAkiyama. With only two weeks to prepare for another opponent, Leben dove back into the gym. There wasn’t much time to put together a game plan, but Leben knew if it came down to who wanted it more, he was going to win that fight every time.
When the fight got underway, Akiyama immediately set about picking Leben apart. It was a high-paced affair and despite the beating he was taking, Leben managed to remain competitive. Going into the final frame and down two rounds on the judge’s cards, Leben needed a finish to earn the victory.
As the fight entered the final minute, it appeared as if all hope was lost, but with 20 seconds left, Leben sunk in a fight-ending triangle choke and secured the victory. In doing so, the Ultimate Fighter alum had done the unthinkable—defeating two high-caliber opponents less than three weeks apart.
“I felt great,” Leben admitted. “The entire thing was honestly such a whirlwind. Going into the fight with Akiyama, I didn’t have much time to think. It was almost like deja-vu. All of a sudden I was right back in camp just two weeks after my last fight.
“I suppose after the wins I could recognize it as one of the crowning moments of my career. I was pretty happy and I probably celebrated and enjoyed myself a little too much. But it was definitely good for me, my bank account, and everything else in my life.
“The one thing I will say about the Akiyama fight is that my preparation for the Aaron Simpson fight was a huge factor. I kind of feel like since the two fights were so close together, everybody always focuses on the Akiyama fight. Granted, it was an exciting fight, but honestly, I don’t feel I performed as well.
“I think part of that is due to the fact you really can’t peak twice in that short of a time period. It’s also hard to develop and execute a game plan in two weeks after you have just spent a few months training for a completely different style of fighter.
“Don’t get me wrong, the Akiyama fight was absolutely amazing. One thing I do remember is walking back to my corner and asking my coach if that submission came about halfway through the second round. He replied, ‘No Chris, that was at the very end of the third round’ and I honestly had no idea.
“Obviously it was a great fight, but performance-wise I didn’t fight as clean as I would have liked. I think honestly I could have made shorter work out of Akiyama if I would have had a full camp to prepare for him.”
Pulling off the amazing feat put Leben front and center in the spotlight. He was the man of the moment and once again seemed poised to climb the divisional ladder.
This, of course, didn’t slow Leben‘s love for the fast lane down as he was once against arrested, this time for suspicion of driving under the influence following an incident were he crashed his truck. Leben was released after posting bail and returned to his regular regiment.
With the spotlight burning hotter, his status still on the rise, and Leben still firmly positioned in the fast lane, he was quick to accept his next fight against the heavy-handed Brian Stann.
With the entire buzz surrounding Leben‘s amazing back-to-back victories over Simpson and Akiyama, the fans wanted more of the unique brand of violence Leben had to offer. It was something he fully intended to deliver, but the circling storm that had been closing in for years was finally catching up to him.
Rather than the clench-toothed, fired-up Leben the crowd was used to seeing, a drawn out and sluggish fighter entered the cage instead.
In his typical fashion, Leben attempted to go toe-to-toe with the decorated Marine, but quickly found himself crumpled on the canvas at the end of a Stann flurry. It was a humbling moment for a fighter who had spent a career depending on a cast iron chin that suddenly wasn’t there.
“My hat’s off to Brian Stann; he’s an amazing competitor,” Leben said. “I hate even talking about this. Prior to the fight I was backstage and they called my name for me to be on deck and I was in the bathroom on the toilet having diarrhea and puking between my legs. I was trying to warm up and couldn’t get a sweat going. I had the cold chills and when I went out there, things just weren’t the same.
“The punches didn’t feel right and I’m not sure if it was because of the dehydration or not, but there were a lot of other things going on leading up to that fight which came together to get me sick. That ultimately reflected in my performance.”
The loss to Stann put Leben down, but not out. His spirits were low, but when Joe Silva called to offer a bout with his long-time hero Wanderlei Silva, the fire was reignited inside. He once again hit the gym with new-found determination, and come hell or high water, he was going out there to give his idol everything he had.
Leben did just that, leveling one of the most dangerous fighters in the history of the sport in just 27 seconds.
“When I got the call from Joe Silva and found out I was going to be able to fight Wanderlei Silva, I literally broke down in tears,” Leben said.
“When I found out I was slated to fight Wanderlei Silva, that to me was one of those moments in my life where it all came together. I grew up watching this guy, idolizing him, and that fight hit me like wow, I’m really here and this is real.
“Knowing these things gave me the drive to prepare. That and the fear of a coma gave me the motivation to train harder than I’ve ever had before. I went out there, got the job done and it felt amazing.”
The impressive victory over Silva once again put Leben back into the mix in the middleweight division. He was open to all comers and the UFC paired him with Mark Munoz in the main event of UFC 138.
This appeared to be another step in Leben‘s run to the top, but when the bout got under way, it became painfully clear the unhealthy version of “The Crippler” had shown up to fight. After suffering a cut in the second round, the fight was waived off, and Leben was handed the eighth loss of his career.
Several weeks after the loss to Munoz, Zuffa released information that Leben had failed his post-fight drug test due to a mixture of prescription painkillers. The news once again cast Leben into the darkness, and the one-year suspension he was handed placed him in purgatory. But rather than wallow in self-pity, Leben used the situation as the catalyst he needed to seek help.
“When the news of my failed drug test went public, it was probably the best thing that could have ever happened to me,” Leben said. “It’s no secret I’ve had a lot of battles in my personal life and with basically fighting for over 10 years without ever taking a break off, I developed a pretty strong habit for pain medicine.
“Not only did it help with the pain, but I was also self-medicating for anxiety. I had a lot of issues and it’s kind of hard when you grow up the way I grew up and the next thing you know you are thrown in the public eye.
“I had some personal relationships that hit me and damaged me pretty hard. Because of that, over the past few years I really developed a habit for pain medicine. In hindsight, looking back it was all self-medicating because I was having a difficult time living in my own skin.
“What happened happened, and my performances in my fights showed I wasn’t healthy, physically or mentally. Dana White, the Fertittas, and Joe Silva were all so awesome. Obviously I got suspended for a year and it has been hard trying to balance everything financially, but the UFC helped get me into a rehab. Me taking that time to get away from everything, go to rehab and counseling, and now it’s gone full circle.
“Now I go to a youth correctional facility every week. Every Tuesday I’m up there for a couple of hours working with the kids, and I’m working very hard to speak out against prescription medicine abuse and drug abuse in general; overcoming some of the issues I’ve dealt with in my life and what are the right and wrong ways to handle those things.
“Where I’m at now, the person I am now, I can actually look in the mirror and be comfortable. Had my issue not come out and been public, who knows what would have happened? I certainly know my career would have been cut a lot shorter and my life would have only gotten worse.
“Now my life is 100% sober and things are better for me than they’ve ever been regardless of the fact I’m broke and I’ve had to deal with a lot of people saying less than nice things about me. Honestly, being able to take care of this issue has meant everything. The UFC recognizing I have a problem and I’m not a bad person, helping me take care of that issue is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
Following the announcement of his second positive test, parts of the UFC fanbase voiced their opinions on how the organization chose to handle the situation. Where other fighters seemed to have been released on far lesser charges, Leben was seemingly getting opportunity after opportunity.
It is a situation Leben certainly isn’t blind to, but rather than dwell in the negative, he chooses to be thankful for the organization giving him the opportunity to get sober and return to being the type of fighter fans want to see.
“The UFC has every ground to cut me or kick me out,” Leben said. “They’ve been the best organization and stood behind me and for that I’m grateful. To be honest, I’ve asked myself that same question and the only thing I can say is thank God there are people behind me. It just shows me not everybody in this world is out to get you. There are people who have my best interest at heart and they are out to just be good people. It’s an amazing feeling truly and honestly.
“It is hard when you live a life where every move is dissected. Nowadays I don’t get on the Internet. I don’t read interviews. When my students come in the gym and try to tell me about what someone has been saying about me, I tell them I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care because that’s not part of my life.
“What you think about me is none of my business. That is the standpoint I’ve had to take on things of that nature. After rehab and counseling and self-work, I’ve really realized what is important to me and what’s not important. My wife manages my Facebook and my Twitter for the fans, but if you don’t have my number and you don’t know where my gym is, I probably don’t need to talk to you.”
In the time away, Leben invested heavily into digging deep into his soul to find out what was at the root of his problems. In the case of most addicts, drugs are a way of covering up a greater problem and this is certainly true in Leben‘s case. He knows there is still so much work to be done, but he has a foothold on the path that will continue to lead him towards peace of mind.
With the darkened skies beginning to clear, a ray of hope broke through when the UFC announced Leben would be returning to action later this year at UFC 155 against KarlosVemola. It was the perfect reward and came at the perfect time for a man who has dug down deep to battle his demons, and is once again standing tall.
“It’s so exciting to be coming back,” Leben said joyously. “I think I’m already driving my coaches nuts. I want nothing more than to just be training every minute of everyday. When I run into people I haven’t seen in a while, they always tell me that I look one or two weeks out from a fight. They say I don’t look like that out-of-shape, unhealthy-looking Chris Leben we are used to seeing three months out from a fight.
“Hearing that, finally having a date, and after everything I’ve been through this past year, it’s awesome. I’ve had so much time to look back and reflect to realize just how much I love this sport. To realize just how much a part of my life it really is. Now I have a date and I’m going to be able to get back in there to compete and showcase my skills. For me, where I’m at, I couldn’t be happier. I’m so excited.
“The best is absolutely yet to come. Where I’m at right now I’m pretty much crushing everybody. In the nicest way possible, everybody who used to give me a hard run for my money, I’m crushing them. Normally it would be a few weeks out from my fight when my coach has to bring in extra people to alternate rounds but we are already doing that.
“I feel the time off and change of lifestyle, instead of taking a pill and training through the pain; I’ve really been working hard. My strength and conditioning coach has me working on my flexibility and range of motion. I’ve been working on my body mechanics getting massages and acupuncture. I honestly feel 10 years younger. I just can’t wait to get in there and see what my performance is going to be like.”
Over the course of 19 fights inside the octagon, Leben has given fans around the world a reason to love the sport. He is a fighter who comes to meet his opposition in the middle of the cage. In a flurry of fists and heart, he is willing to find out who is the better man and who wants it more.
Leben knows that warrior is still inside of him and if the circumstances arise, the instincts that made him a fan favorite will once again arise.
“I would like to tell people they are going to see a leaner, more in shape, more technical, more mature fighter but if this guy whacks me really hard we’ll see if I don’t just revert to the old style where I’m standing in the pocket and throwing heavy.
“I wouldn’t exactly say I’m comfortable standing in the pocket and at close range. But it is just something that is in me. Everyone reacts a certain way when they get hit but for me, that fight or flight mode is different. Something clicks when I get whacked where I just start swinging and I hope they fall own before I do.
“As far as fighting goes, I really draw from my corner and my camp. The people that are around me and are in my life are very special to me. When I get in there to fight, I always remind myself, even though I’m the one in the cage and everyone is watching me, it’s just not as simple as me versus my opponent.
“There are a lot of people who had to make a lot of sacrifices and had to put a lot of effort into helping me out. When I fight, I’m scared to let them down. I know how hard they worked and I want more than anything to get a victory for the people who stand behind me.”
Through the shadows and back to fight another day, Chris Leben is a man who no longer fears the road ahead. Now, he simply looks to enjoy every moment, every step of the way.
The 16th season of The Ultimate Fighter kicks off tonight on FX, and while we wouldn’t exactly say we’re looking forward to it, the premiere of a new season always puts us in a reflective mood. In this week’s installment of the CagePotato Roundtable, we’ll be paying tribute to our favorite cast-members in TUF history, and joining us today is a very, very special guest — Luke O’Brien, an award-winning journalist whose work has appeared in Rolling Stone, The New York Times, The Atlantic, Fortune, and many other outlets that are much more respectable than the one you’re reading right now. (I first discovered Luke through his excellent MMA reporting for Deadspin.)
Shoot us your own favorite TUF guys in the comments section, and if you have a topic for a future Roundtable column, e-mail us at [email protected]
Luke O’Brien
Has there been a more unlikely TUF champion than Amir Sadollah? In 2008, the Persian-Irish surgical technologist came out of nowhere — or in his case, Richmond — to win the seventh season of the show by beating All-American wrestler C.B. Dollaway. Sadollah armbarred Dollaway not once, but twice. Before that, he triangled Matt Brown, who oozed tough. And before that, he TKOd Gerald Harris, who certainly looked tough. At the time, Sadollah had never had a pro fight. Not one. I liked him immediately. Not because he was an upstart, a little doughy around the middle and a bit of a lumberer. There were purer reasons that drew me to a fighter who walks out to Iranian techno music.
For one, he had a mullet. This wasn’t the unaware bumpkin coiffure found in many stretches of this country. Rather, it was a curated flange of keratin that complemented the smirk often playing on Sadollah’s face. It was a mullet that, like its owner, didn’t take itself too seriously. A mullet that grasped irony. And irony has always been in short supply on TUF. The premise of the show — quarantine 16 fighters for a month in a house stocked with unlimited amounts of booze and see what happens — is absurd, although I guess you could say the same about all reality television. As much as I enjoy TUF, the only way I can fully appreciate it is at a sardonic remove. Sadollah allowed me to do that.
The 16th season of The Ultimate Fighter kicks off tonight on FX, and while we wouldn’t exactly say we’re looking forward to it, the premiere of a new season always puts us in a reflective mood. In this week’s installment of the CagePotato Roundtable, we’ll be paying tribute to our favorite cast-members in TUF history, and joining us today is a very, very special guest — Luke O’Brien, an award-winning journalist whose work has appeared in Rolling Stone, The New York Times, The Atlantic, Fortune, and many other outlets that are much more respectable than the one you’re reading right now. (I first discovered Luke through his excellent MMA reporting for Deadspin.)
Shoot us your own favorite TUF guys in the comments section, and if you have a topic for a future Roundtable column, e-mail us at [email protected]
Luke O’Brien
Has there been a more unlikely TUF champion than Amir Sadollah? In 2008, the Persian-Irish surgical technologist came out of nowhere — or in his case, Richmond — to win the seventh season of the show by beating All-American wrestler C.B. Dollaway. Sadollah armbarred Dollaway not once, but twice. Before that, he triangled Matt Brown, who oozed tough. And before that, he TKOd Gerald Harris, who certainly looked tough. At the time, Sadollah had never had a pro fight. Not one. I liked him immediately. Not because he was an upstart, a little doughy around the middle and a bit of a lumberer. There were purer reasons that drew me to a fighter who walks out to Iranian techno music.
For one, he had a mullet. This wasn’t the unaware bumpkin coiffure found in many stretches of this country. Rather, it was a curated flange of keratin that complemented the smirk often playing on Sadollah’s face. It was a mullet that, like its owner, didn’t take itself too seriously. A mullet that grasped irony. And irony has always been in short supply on TUF. The premise of the show — quarantine 16 fighters for a month in a house stocked with unlimited amounts of booze and see what happens — is absurd, although I guess you could say the same about all reality television. As much as I enjoy TUF, the only way I can fully appreciate it is at a sardonic remove. Sadollah allowed me to do that.
Most of the fighters on the show not only fail to get the joke, however, they fail to grasp that they’re even part of it. The character tropes that emerge, whether unbidden or teased out by producers, tend to be obliviously earnest. There is the shit-talking asshole, the ugly drunk, the prankster who ejaculates on sushi, the lovesick prat who worries photos of his bastard spawn, the zen master who strokes chi in the backyard, the anti-social, the dolt, the hard-knock kid and so on.
To me, at least, this collection of “types” has always called out for a more self-aware presence, someone able to appreciate the weird meta-comedy of the situation while still engaging it, like a wiseass anthropologist conducting ethnography on a strange tribe (and occasionally winking to his audience). Sadollah was that. He was wry and introspective and funny as hell, in the vein of Forrest Griffin, minus the ever-encroaching darkness. He didn’t pound his chest. When he won, he seemed surprised. His default state was general bemusement and he went through the show with a shrug. He was, essentially, the kind of person I didn’t mind watching fight but I really wanted to watch on TV. Mainly because he reminded me that the hour of my week I’d given over to Spike, and soon FX, was forever gone. And what a silly, pointless hour it was. And why not?
Ben Goldstein
I feel like Matt Serra is the greatest TUF competitor by pretty much any criteria you could name, and I’m not just saying that because I have fond personalmemories of the man. He won the show, won a world title in the biggest title fight upset in UFC history — becoming the first and so far only fighter to TKO Georges St. Pierre — then came back to build an entertaining rivalry with Matt Hughes as a coach on season six. He was also one of the funniest dudes to ever pass through the TUF house, and through it all, he carried himself with integrity and class. Matt Serra made an impression, and he didn’t need to put his head through a wall like a fucking idiot in order to do it.
Even before he officially joined the “Comeback” season of The Ultimate Fighter, it was clear that Serra was destined for stardom. Just check out this audition footage, where the Terror puts his Long Island style of jovial ball-busting on full display, trading barbs with his boss and the show’s producers. He was entirely comfortable in his own skin. And that accent? Instant branding.
Serra’s run on the show saw him smash Pete Spratt, score a redemptive decision victory over Shonie Carter — who had knocked Serra out via fluke backfist with nine seconds left in their meeting at UFC 31 — and out-point Chris Lytle in a razor-thin decision at the finale. But it was Serra’s dressing-down of Marc Laimon that truly put him over, and remains the show’s most memorable verbal devastation not involving Dana White.
Season 4 was a far-fetched gimmick to begin with. (“Let’s take a bunch of near-washouts and award the winners an immediate title shot”?) The glass trophies that Serra and middleweight Travis Lutter won only seemed like tickets to a guaranteed ass-kicking. All Serra could do at UFC 69 was throw his hands and believe in himself. Three-and-a-half minutes later, GSP was staring at the lights, and Serra was a world champion. Following that win, Serra was brought on as a coach for TUF 6, and fans got to see a different side of him — the caring trainer and cornerman who was always reminding his guys to “BREATHE!”
Serra lost his title in a rematch with GSP, and only won one more fight in the Octagon, a knockout of Frank Trigg at UFC 109. These days, he’s settled into an elder statesmen role, sheperding along prospects like Chris Weidman and Al Iaquinta, always showing up in his fighters’ corners looking very well fed. But during his relatively brief time as a UFC star, the world got to know a true gentleman. While other TUF contestants have tried to create personas, Matt Serra was one of the few guys who passed through that house with genuine character. He was the scrappy underdog with brains and heart, who earned a second chance in the sport and made the most of it, achieving much, much more than anybody could have expected him to.
Before I begin, I am going to let the CP readers peek behind the curtain for just a brief moment. When a Roundtable topic is chosen, our fearless leader Ben Goldstein sends out a mass email asking each writer who or what they will be choosing as their nominee. It gives all the staff members/contributors a basic outline of what direction we are headed in, and it eliminates two people picking the same subject matter. Then, once all the topics are written and submitted, the workhorse that is BG crafts the posts with all the pictures and hyperlinks. I know, it is pretty complex and I am sure all of you thought we just used a couple of soup cans connected with some string to communicate (or in Danga’s case, sending bong-made smoke signals for correspondence).
With that being said, I had a general idea of who was being included and the usual suspects were covered. Considering this is the 16th season (17 if you count TUF Brazil) there is a virtual cornucopia of competitors to pick from. The freaks like Junie Browning and War Machine are both batshit crazy, but I could not call them my favorite. Then there are Forrest Griffin, Stephan Bonnar, and Chris Lytle who have/had great UFC careers while being fan favorites, but none of them (literally or figuratively) tickled my pecker either. I have already covered every single season of TUF in a previous CP post and there is only one man that makes me have undeniable feelings. Granted, those feelings are categorical hatred, but at least he makes me care one way or the other.
Josh Koscheck has been the notorious heel ever since he first appeared during the inaugural season of TUF. He teamed up with Bobby Southworth to give us one of the best moments to ever come out of the series when they instigated Chris Leben to go Bruce Banner’s alter ego on a few doors. Kos went on to beat the tortured soul of Leben and sent him packing with more insults as he adjusted his invisible “black hat.” That has been the Kos that we’ve all loved to hate for the better part of a decade and nothing will change.
There have been so many participants throughout TUF series and the feeling of indifference is overwhelming for damn near all of them. It is hard to get people to cheer you and it is even harder to get the masses to despise you. Much like Koscheck’s in-cage abilities, he has worked extremely hard to paint himself as the bad guy, and as his MMA skills improved, so did his propensity to infuriate the fans. Like my father always said, “Find something you are good at and stick with it.” I have stuck to extreme unicycling while singing “Weird” Al tunes and Koscheck has stuck to kicking ass while pissing people off.
Josh Koscheck epitomizes every character William Zabka portrayed from the 1980’s. Kos is the prototypical bully jock that walks around dolling out wedgies and swirlies while spewing insults to anybody that crosses his path. The problem with that, other than the obvious, is that he is a pretty damn good fighter. Sure he is a notorious eye gouger and has never won a title but love him (doubtful) or hate him (probably), at least you have an opinion of him. He gives you somebody to root against. With a UFC record of 15-6 and wins over guys like Diego Sanchez, Anthony Johnson, Paul Daley, and Matt Hughes, nobody can argue that Kos sucks. And while he may in fact be a complete asshole, at least he makes us give a shit. That is why my favorite cast member from TUF series is without a doubt — Josh Koscheck. Oh, and he has his own god damn plane that he flies himself too. Screw that!
Josh Hutchinson
You guys know those assholes out there that slow down at every car wreck, root for every horror movie villain, and just seem to find delight in the pain and suffering of others? Well, I’m one of those assholes, and Corey Hill was the busty blond to my Jason Voorhees. But for my money train wrecks just aren’t as good if you don’t get to watch said train pick up speed. Luckily we had all of season 5 for Corey to gain some momentum.
I will say for starters that I’ve got nothing against Corey. Throughout the course of the show he came across as a pretty down to earth and likable guy (Note: although that’s pretty easy any time you’re sharing screen time with one of the Diaz boys). Add in the underdog factor, and I was sort of rooting for Corey. Between managing to calm the shit storm that was Nate Diaz and Manvel Gamburyan, and helping to build his teammates confidence and skill with no complaints, he was an all around nice guy. There, now that the reality show bullshit is out of the way, let’s talk fights.
Coming on to the show Corey claimed to have a perfect 4-0 record. While he did have a perfect record, the reality was that he was 2-0, and both of those fights had been amateur bouts. None the less the coaches and the other fighters alike saw a lot of potential in the untested fighter. It went so far as guest coach Jeremy Horn claiming Hill to have the most potential to become a force in the UFC. Keep in mind that this was a season with guys like Gray Maynard, Nate Diaz, Joe Lauzon, and Cole Miller — so in retrospect, quite a bold statement. If Hill hadn’t lost to Nate Diaz in the quarter finals, it could have been one of the best Cinderella stories in TUF history.
So with season 5 coming to a close, the Corey Hill hype train was off to a good start. He immediately picked up a TKO win over Joe Veres before falling short against Justin Buchholz. Then this happened, and for me it was like Christmas, New Years, and my birthday all rolled into one gruesomely wrapped present. Since then, Corey has gone 4-2 in the cage, which really is impressive since every time I see the above picture I refuse to even kick my dog for at least a week.
Rashad Evans has accomplished a lot in his career. His knockout of Sean Salmon has a permanent spot on UFC highlight reels. He forced Michael Bisping out of the light heavyweight division and into the middleweight division, inadvertently enabling Bisping’s knockout at the hands of Dan Henderson at UFC 100. He brutally knocked out Chuck Liddell, went Donkey Kong on Forrest Griffin to claim the light heavyweight title, and is the only fighter in UFC history to go five rounds with Jon Jones or perform the stanky leg in the middle of a fight. (OK, so he did this at the precise moment he lost consciousness, but that actually makes it more impressive.)
But these accolades are not the real reasons I’m picking Rashad Evans as the best member of TUF. It’s because of how much he was able to piss off Matt Hughes. (And his subsequent Uncle Bernie anecdote.) Sorry, but I have a soft spot for people who piss off self-absorbed socially conservative assholes. Particularly ones who have some type of bizarre notion about “unwritten rules” in combat sports. Look, sportsmanship is nice and all, but there’s nothing wrong with showboating. In fact, it can make fights better — Anderson Silva vs. Forrest Griffin, for instance. Just don’t hit a guy when you go to touch gloves. That shit’s off limits.
Rashad is also responsible for absolutely demolishing Quinton Jackson in trash-talking during TUF 10, and exposed Rampage’s own smack-talking ability. Which, as it turned out, was limited to either calling someone “titties,” or simply taking one or two phrases and repeating them ad nauseum. (“Treat me like a bitch. Treat me like a bitch. Treat me like a bitch.” Etc.) When Rampage was unable to win the war of words — or, you know, have his fighters actually win a match since he was a terrible, terrible coach — he took his frustrations out on the only opponent he could actually beat; the poor, cheap cardboard door.
So whether you’re talking career accomplishments or TUF antics that aren’t borderline homoerotic or psychological breakdowns (hello Junie Browning!), Rashad Evans stands at the top of the heap. He accomplished all he could in his weight class, defeated legends in the sport, pissed off Country Breakfast, and mentally broke Quinton Jackson. Which isn’t necessarily hard to do or anything, he could have just thrown energy drinks and copies of “The Secret” at him, but it’s still very amusing.
As impossible as this sounds, I’m about to write something for this week’s entry that’s even more uninspired than what I usually publish. I’ll accomplish this by not only playing the “I got to meet so-and-so” card, but also by exploiting every keyboard warrior’s favorite angle, the infamous “I trane UFC.” If you were expecting more from me, do you mind if I ask why?
I know I’m pretty biased in saying this, but as a Lafayette, Louisiana resident who trains at Gladiator’s Academy, my favorite Ultimate Fighter alumnus is TUF 7‘s own “Crazy” Tim Credeur (For what it’s worth, I don’t cover fights from any of the gym’s fighters due to the obvious conflict of interest). For starters, Tim isn’t known for his zany antics on the show, a goofy, fluorescent mohawk or any of the other TUF cliches you’re sick of; definitely a plus. The fact that the only decision on his record is a Fight of the Night earning loss to Nate Quarry helps, too. But if I’m being honest, Tim Creuder is my favorite TUF alumnus simply because he’s cool enough to allow a hack journalist like me to come within fifty miles of his gym, let alone actually train there.
But let’s just say that if you’re looking to see how good of a coach he is, you should definitely check out Fightville instead of watching me practice. The other day, Tim watched me channel my inner Cro Cop by attempting a head kick during a Muay Thai practice. His reaction reminded me of the look on my father’s face when I tried out for the local Pee-Wee football squad. As a punter. Who broke his foot during the warm-ups. And cried for at least ten minutes afterwards.
Pissing on a pillow, sleeping outside, destroying a door, getting called a “fatherless bastard,” and oh yeah, drinking a TON of alcohol. On the inaugural season of The Ultimate Fighter, as Stone Cold Steve Austin would say, Chris Leben arrived, raised hell, and left. Love him or hate him, The Crippler’s antics made for some of the best TV in TUF history. His in-house rivalry with Josh Koscheck got so heated that even the Baldfather decided to just let em settle it in the octagon. Though Leben succumbed to Koscheck’s superior wrasslin’ skills in their fight, the Crippler forever cemented himself as arguably the greatest hellraiser in TUF history.
So why is Chris Leben my favorite TUF cast member of all-time? Along with the entertaining personal antics, the man does what a lot of fighters these dayswon’t do, he FIGHTS. Only two weeks removed from beating Aaron Simpson at the TUF 11 finale, Leben stepped in for Wanderlei Silva to fight Yoshihiro Akiyama at UFC 116, and after an all-out war, pulled off a miraculous triangle choke victory with seconds left in the 3rd round. Though he can never seem to get that big win to put him in title contention, Leben remains a favorite of the UFC brass as well because he is a very aggressive fighter who never shies away from a brawl in the Octagon. So here’s to hoping The Crippler can get back on track at UFC 155, and remember, if you’re gonna piss on somebody’s pillow on the Ultimate Fighter, just make sure you kick their ass at the finale.
Ladies and gentlemen of our esteemed jury, I ask you to turn your attention to Exhibit A: The single greatest moment in the history of The Ultimate Fighter. It literally contains everything that any fan of the show, the UFC, or the sport in general can appreciate: An upset victory, a brutal, lightning-quick submission, Dana White dropping the f-bomb, Steve Mazzagatti making a correct call for once, Arianny Celeste (for the gentlemen), Georges St. Pierre (for the ladies and gentlemen), and Josh Koscheck getting served a nice warm glass of shut the hell up. It’s the video clip equivalent of, as Seth would say, getting a blowjob while drinking a Mr. Pibb, but above all else, it features the coolest mofo to ever stroll through the TUF house: Cody McKenzie.
Now, I could simply rest my case right there and call it a day, but I suppose there are still a stubborn few of you out there who still aren’t picking up what I’m putting down, so allow me to continue.
We’ve talked a lot about the supposed fakeness that plagues certain MMA fighters over the past couple weeks, referring mainly of course, to Jon Jones. We’ve (and by we’ve, I mean you’ve) used such terms as “pussy”, “punk bitch”, “fake-ass trick”, “mark-ass trick”, “trick-ass mark”, “hoe,” “heffer”, “hee-ha”, and “hooley-hoo punk-ass jabroni” to describe Jones and his fakeness, and declared that if Jones would just remove the “businessman-like” façade and be real with us for a second, maybe we’d actually come around to the idea of embracing him as a champion. Maybe.
Well, if it’s realness you’re looking for in an MMA fighter, look no further than the tobacco-chewing, McKenzietining, TUF 12 Alaskan native. While 90 percent of his counterparts spent their time on the show picking fights in between their actual fights and acting like general assholes (a trend that seems to be increasing exponentially), McKenzie was content to simply chill in a hammock, sip a beer, and appreciate the opportunity he was given. He was/is a down to earth, honest guy who you would just as easily find next to you at the bar as you would in the gym. Essentially, he’s the very definition of the “common man’s” fighter.
In the moments leading up to his fight with Marc Stevens, McKenzie was more than willing to admit to Nam Phan (Stevens’ teammate) that Marc was, and I’m loosely quoting here, “a better wrestler, a better striker, and probably a better talent, who was faster, stronger, better looking, and probably better at the hard sciences that I am. But I’m going to win.” That’s realness, ladies and gentlemen, and 16 seconds into their fight, McKenzie accomplished what he set out to do using only the power of trickery and a pair of God-given vice-grips that would make Clamps clamp himself to death in shame.
You see, a lot of McKenzie’s appeal lies in the limited attributes he possesses as a fighter. The dude is the definition of a one-trick pony, and from the moment the bell rings, you know that McKenzie is going to look for your neck, that choke, and the nearest exit. Yet he is still managing to pull it off on the occasional fool, and God damn is it fun to watch. He’s like Ronda Rousey minus the off-putting amount of cockiness, which is made all the more respectable when you realize that McKenzie was actually born with one. A cock, that is.
And do you want to discuss the “take on all comers mentality” that seems to have disintegrated in the sport over time? Not in Cody fucking McKenzie it hasn’t. The “AK Kid” managed to get under Koscheck’s skin so much during his run on TUF 12 that Fraggle challenged him to a fight if he ever made it to the UFC. Without even batting an eye, McKenzie accepted a fight against the future title challenger of a division he didn’t even compete in, as was the case when he offered to fight former title challenger Chad Mendes in his own featherweight debut and former lightweight champ Frankie Edgar in his. Is McKenzie reckless, delusional, and borderline masochistic? Possibly, but that’s the kind of attitude I’d like to see more of in the age where athletes like to fancy themselves CEO’s.
And do I even have to mention that McKenzie is responsible for this?
That fact that Leben is immediately returning to action after his suspension — and against a beatable rebound opponent — suggests that the UFC still has a fondness for him. But considering that this wasn’t Leben’s first time-out for unapproved substances, it might be his last chance to straighten up and fly right. Good luck, Cat Smasher.
That fact that Leben is immediately returning to action after his suspension — and against a beatable rebound opponent — suggests that the UFC still has a fondness for him. But considering that this wasn’t Leben’s first time-out for unapproved substances, it might be his last chance to straighten up and fly right. Good luck, Cat Smasher.
Bushido is the way of the warrior—the way of Samurai life. Forged in feudal Japan, Bushido demands bravery and honor unto death. It’s interwoven with the fabric of martial arts.
