As loyal readers of CagePotato through thick and thin, you know what kind of respect we have for UFC Hall of Famer Dan Severn. We’ve sung his praises from the highest mountain tops. We’ve named our future children after them (at least, BG has). Hell, we’ve even been luckily enough to be graced with his presence in the form of a brief but glorious mailbag column back in the day. Simply put, “The Beast” is the ultimate man’s man, a legend, and the kind of guy that could turn Ron Swanson into a prepubescent-voiced, salad-eating socialist if he so desired.
But like many fighters before him, Severn hasn’t exactly settled into retirement easily since collecting his 101st win back in 2013, especially when it comes to his former rivals Ken Shamrock and Royce Gracie. Back in 2011, Severn tried to draw the Brazilian out of retirement for a match a UFC Rio that, for better or worse, never came to fruition. So from the moment it was announced that Gracie and Shamrock would be doing the damn thing one more time at Bellator 149, you just knew that Severn would have something to say about it.
As loyal readers of CagePotato through thick and thin, you know what kind of respect we have for UFC Hall of Famer Dan Severn. We’ve sung his praises from the highest mountain tops. We’ve named our future children after them (at least, BG has). Hell, we’ve even been luckily enough to be graced with his presence in the form of a brief but glorious mailbag column back in the day. Simply put, “The Beast” is the ultimate man’s man, a legend, and the kind of guy that could turn Ron Swanson into a prepubescent-voiced, salad-eating socialist if he so desired.
But like many fighters before him, Severn hasn’t exactly settled into retirement easily since collecting his 101st win back in 2013, especially when it comes to his former rivals Ken Shamrock and Royce Gracie. Back in 2011, Severn tried to draw the Brazilian out of retirement for a match a UFC Rio that, for better or worse, never came to fruition. So from the moment it was announced that Gracie and Shamrock would be doing the damn thing one more time at Bellator 149, you just knew that Severn would have something to say about it.
Now 57 years old, Severn is still ready to strap on the wrestling boots and manties at the drop of a hat, it would seem. Speaking with MMAJunkie, Severn not only preemptively put the Shamrock-Gracie winner on blast, but called for a “Masters Division” to give the Mark Colemans and Randy Coutures of the sport a place to keep throwing down.
“Well, they were on my to-do list in the first place,” said Severn. “So sure, I’d do it.”
“I think there is an appetite for, I don’t know, call it a masters division, like they have in other sports. And as long as it’s done right and those masters compete against other masters, I think it’s something people want to see. You just can’t put the 50-year-old guy against a 25- or 30-year-old guy, because the reality is that no matter how good your skills are, they are diminishing.”
In all honesty…this isn’t the worst idea we’ve ever-HEAR US OUT.
Look, guys like Severn, Gracie, Shamrock, and so on; they live to compete no matter how bad it affects their health. Us high-minded, all-seeing Internet writers can’t try and act like we understand the mindset of these guys all we want, but the truth is that we have no clue and never will until we step into the cage ourselves. The desire to test oneself at the ultimate level of any sport isn’t something that can simply be shut off, not by the worries of their training partners, life coaches, doctors, or even their damn families. So if soulless promotions like Rizin are content to sit idly by and continue giving guys like Kazushi Sakuraba fights until they literally beaten to death in the ring — which, they are — then shouldn’t we at least try to level the scales by having these old dudes compete against each other? We’re not being cruel, we’re simply softening the blow!
I dunno, I’m just saying that if these grizzled SOB’s still have some fight left in them, we let them fight. Not to mention, we’re sure that Royce could use the extra cash.
(It’s not a UFC fight, but you can’t talk awful title fights without at least referencing Sonnen vs. Filho II. Photo courtesy of Sherdog.)
Today we’re talking about bad UFC title fights – fights that fizzled out after weeks of hype, bored even the most die-hard fans among us, and left us baffled that the winner was considered the best in his weight class. Since we’redealing strictly with UFC title fights, notable clunkers like Ruiz vs. Southworth II (Strikeforce), Wiuff vs. Tuchscherer (YAMMA), and Sonnen vs. Filho II (WEC) are ineligible for inclusion. Also, we promise that the only appearance of the name “Ben Askren” in this column lies in this incredibly forced sentence. Read on for our picks, and please, pretty please, send your ideas for future Roundtable topics to [email protected].
Detroit is known by many names – Motown, Motor City, and Hockey Town to name a few. None of which lend to the idea that the birthplace of the assembly line was also a mecca of mixed martial arts or a place to catch great fights on Saturday. Unfortunately, UFC didn’t care; they took the show to the Great Lakes State in 1996 for UFC 9: Clash of the Titans 2 nonetheless. Ken Shamrock and Michigan native Dan Severn were set to face off for the first world title outside of Japan, the UFC Superfight championship. However, thanks to Senator John McCain, instead seeing an exciting rematch that was sure to cover the canvas in bad blood, fans in attendance and at home watching on PPV were treated to what became known as “The Detroit Dance.” And to this day, it is regarded as one of the worst fights in the history of the sport.
(It’s not a UFC fight, but you can’t talk awful title fights without at least referencing Sonnen vs. Filho II. Photo courtesy of Sherdog.)
Today we’re talking about bad UFC title fights – fights that fizzled out after weeks of hype, bored even the most die-hard fans among us, and left us baffled that the winner was considered the best in his weight class. Since we’redealing strictly with UFC title fights, notable clunkers like Ruiz vs. Southworth II (Strikeforce), Wiuff vs. Tuchscherer (YAMMA), and Sonnen vs. Filho II (WEC) are ineligible for inclusion. Also, we promise that the only appearance of the name “Ben Askren” in this column lies in this incredibly forced sentence. Read on for our picks, and please, pretty please, send your ideas for future Roundtable topics to [email protected].
Detroit is known by many names – Motown, Motor City, and Hockey Town to name a few. None of which lend to the idea that the birthplace of the assembly line was also a mecca of mixed martial arts or a place to catch great fights on Saturday. Unfortunately, UFC didn’t care; they took the show to the Great Lakes State in 1996 for UFC 9: Clash of the Titans 2 nonetheless. Ken Shamrock and Michigan native Dan Severn were set to face off for the first world title outside of Japan, the UFC Superfight championship. However, thanks to Senator John McCain, instead seeing an exciting rematch that was sure to cover the canvas in bad blood, fans in attendance and at home watching on PPV were treated to what became known as “The Detroit Dance.” And to this day, it is regarded as one of the worst fights in the history of the sport.
What did McCain have to do with any of this, you ask? The politician was fierce in his letter writing campaign against a sport he knew nothing about. He essentially scared or bullied local government agencies to ban the sport. You know, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Several key components in the UFC machine were tied up in the Detroit courts until 4:30pm the day of the event getting permission to hold an event that was already being set up. The hacks behind the desk said, and I’m paraphrasing here, “You can proceed with your barbaric and uncivilized fisticuffs spectacle as long as no one actually throws a closed fist to his opponents head nor will any butting of the heads be allowed. Anyone seen doing such things will be arrested.”
For the better part of twenty minutes, Shamrock and Severn circled each other with little to no contact. During the last ten minutes of the fight (if you can even call it that) the two played pat-a-cake until Severn decided to throw the special rules right out of Cobo Arena. Despite stalling for two thirds of the fight and head butting his opponent, Dan Severn won the fight and the championship belt. The Michiganders in attendance could be heard throughout the area booing and chanting, “Let’s go Red Wings!” There has never been a more pathetic example of a championship quality fight. The men in the cage deserved to be there, sure, but when you start adding special rules and stipulations, you’re watering down your product. So much so, that Detroit is now in two sport’s Hall of Shame.
It’s kind of ironic that Anderson Silva, who owns the most impressive championship reign in UFC history, also happens to have the distinction of participating in three of the worst championship fights in the company’s history as well. But ironic or not, it’s no less true. Picking the worst of the three is like deciding which segment you want to be in the human centipede, but I suppose it must be done. To that end, I nominate Silva’s bout with Demian Maia at UFC 112 as the worst of the worst.
I remember watching UFC 112 on an internet str- err, on pay-per-view. To say it was an underwhelming card is probably a little more generous than what it deserves, and that was before the main event. Matt Hughes fought Renzo Gracie – who didn’t know how to check leg kicks – for no conceivable reason. Frankie Edgar upset BJ Penn in the most unspectacular way imaginable, via a debatable decision with virtually no emphatic moments throughout the entire fight. But all of this would surely be a footnote when Anderson Silva, fresh off his humiliation of Forrest Griffin, would unveil some hitherto unknown debilitating maneuver that would drop all of our jaws to the floor while our feeble brains attempted to process what we just witnessed.
Instead, Silva spent the vast majority of five rounds dancing, taunting, and throwing the occasional oblique kick. To say it was frustrating doesn’t do it justice. It was maddening, made even more so by the lone flying knee Silva threw out of nowhere in the fight. It knocked Maia down, broke his nose and served as a reminder of just what Silva was capable of… and how he refused to bother indulging the audience with his capability that night. Maia, to his credit, never gave up. At one point in the final round, Maia – with one eye swollen shut – fell in front of Silva and kept swinging wildly from his knees. It was desperate and ineffective, but it exemplified heart and determination in contrast with Silva’s utter lack of such. Silva won the fight, Maia retained his pride, but the audience was left with the worst championship fight you could imagine. The UFC has not bothered returning to Abu Dhabi since.
It’s easy to feel a little sympathy for Tito Ortiz these days. He’s been going through some personal shit – the variety of which we are banned from getting too specific on. But hey, thems the breaks when you shack up with a porn queen. Well-adjusted females with run-of-the-mill daddy issues don’t generally get into fuck films. They just latch onto some poor bastard and systematically suck every ounce of pride and manhood out of him until he’s an obedient slob with a semi-manageable speed habit and a secret fetish for snuff porn. That’s life. The ones that go for the porn queens, well, all I’m saying is disregard the lessons of Little Bill at your own peril.
That sympathy, however, can cause us to forget that there was a time when Tito was a wildly popular UFC champion; not just some dude with a quick mouth and a gigantic head who only tasted victory once during the last six years of his career. It’s hard to deny Tito his accolades. Circa 2002 he was the most successful UFC champion there was. He won the belt and defended it five times. That’s more title defenses than Randy, and even one more than his arch-nemesis, Chuck had. Granted, both of those guys would eventually clown Tito en route to victories (x 2 for Chuck), and of course there was that whole saga of Tito allegedly ducking Chuck, but we’re talking numbers here, bitch. Context is irrelevant when trying to make an absurd point.
Hindsight being 20/20 ‘n shit makes Tito’s title defenses seem mildly comical by modern standards, considering the competition: Yuki Kondo, Evan Tanner, Elvis Sinosic, Vladimir Matyushenko, and Ken Shamrock. But you gotta remember this was pre-TUF, pre-FOX, and pre-UFC monopoly when the glory days of Pride were in full effect. UFC title challengers were often contemptible back then. Incidentally, Dave Menne won the UFC’s inaugural middleweight belt that same night, and well shit I’ll go as far as agree with Danga, Dave Menne – for real???
It’s easy to mock a couple of Tito’s title defenses on grounds of legitimacy. But interestingly enough, perhaps the most legit challenger – Vlady – provided for the worst fight. This was UFC 33, an event which Dana White still to this day describes as, “The worst show we’ve ever had.” It was so bad we could just as easily be talking about the co-main event of the evening – Jens Pulver vs Dennis “Balls” Hallman, but that wasn’t the main event, and the pay per view broadcast didn’t black out in the middle of it – two very important factors that help to solidify Tito Ortiz vs.Vladimir Matyushenko as the worst ever.
According to one analysis, the Tito/Vlady fight produced only 40 “significant strikes.” To further expound on that lamentable figure, in a 25 minute fight that means that a decent strike was landed only once every 37.5 seconds. Might not seem like a long stretch while you’re on YouPorn stroking yourself to some early Jenna, but during an actual fight that’s an eternity of visual pain. Contrast that extreme with a Cain Velasquez, who lands over six significant strikes per minute – or one every ten seconds, and the standard deviation model gets blown all to shit.
Basically, the fight was about as horrific as you’d expect of two wrestlers with rudimentary striking skills. Don’t forget, this was before Tito’s “improved boxing” that Joe Rogan liked to talk about almost as much as his “underrated jiu jitsu.” The bottom line is there have been many terrible title fights in the UFC, but not one of them headlined the worst show ever, and not one of them blacked out on pay per view before the fans could fully experience the horror of just how anally violated they got. So there.
Josh Hutchinson
In deciding the worst UFC title fight I chose to look at a number of criteria. Do I choose one that was boring (GSP/Fitch)? How about one that’s meaningless or undeserved (Jones/Sonnen)? What about one that shames the sport of MMA as whole (Arlovski/Buentello)? Luckily I didn’t have to look far to find a shit sandwich that’s comprised entirely of those three ingredients.
Sean Sherk vs. Hermes Franca at UFC 73 was a complete failure in every sense of the word. A highly forgettable fight, which was put on only to build anticipation for the return of BJ Penn, resulted in a glorified 25 minute sparring session. Someone managed to wake the judges up long enough to decide that Sherk had won, and everyone could start getting damp in their trousers at the thought of Penn fighting for the lightweight title again. Mission accomplished, right? Not quite.
The aftermath of UFC 73 is really what landed this fight as my top pick. It’s a special kind of person that tests positive for anything following a title fight. Honestly, at the highest levels of competition you’d have to be as blind as Anne Frank not to see a drug test coming. It makes it all the more amusing that both Sherk and Franca tested positive for steroids following the fight. I would give up anything in my life to have been able to be a fly on the wall when Dana White heard this news. Something tells me his reaction was a little more than a simple facepalm. As usual, neither fighter was at fault for their positive tests, as Franca was forced by the UFC to roid up, and the CSAC botched Sherk’s results. Hey, these things happen in MMA.
So there you have it folks, a boring ass fight that ended up with both participants being suspended and the champ being stripped of his title. All parties involved, fans especially, would have been better off had these gladiators met under the XARM banner, but alas, it now goes down as the worst title fight in UFC history.
Apparently, now, the CagePotato Roundtable only happens when The Boss is on vacation (which means the inmates run the asylum for a day or two with Mr. Goldtsein’s unbelievable wealth, a seventeen-day luxurious private cruise to the Bahamas – don’t forget my obligatory touristy t-shirt BG) and that means it brings out the “fringe” contributors who enjoy throwing spitballs while generally making a ruckus in the back of the room in order to mess with the substitute instructors.
The topic of the “Worst UFC Title Fight” is a bit of a conundrum for me because, personally, Georges St. Pierre vs. Matt Serra 1 was one of the worst moments of my life because of my inner bro-mance with GSP and my buddies’ propensity for reminding me that my affinity is unnatural. But, I digress. Since I hosted all of the UFC parties (and got ALL the PPV bills) there is still one in particular that pains me.
It was a highly anticipated bout that pitted LHW Champion Randy Couture vs. Vitor Belfort at UFC 46 and if you look at the fight card now, you’d call me a poseur for complaining about this. No shit – the three prelim fights that didn’t air that night had Matt Serra vs. Pat Curran, Josh Thomson vs. Hermes Franca and Georges St. Pierre vs. Karo Parisyan. The PPV featured (in)famous names like Lee Murray, Jorge Rivera, Carlos Newton, Wes Sims, Frank Mir, Matt Hughes and B.J. Penn. The World Series of Fighting would double-barrel jerk-off Mr_Misanthropy AND crappiefloper while Fried Taco watched, if the promoters could get a collection of talent like that [Ed. Note: Wow.].
Needless to say, this main event fight should’ve been awesome but 45 seconds later . . . . . . It was OVER. That’s right! I lasted longer on Prom Night – she’ll tell you too, not by much . . . . but still – than the LHW Championship bout at UFC 46 and I screamed (on both occasions), “WHAT THE FUCK?!”
Then I realized that Couture’s eyeball was literally about to fall completely out of his head – Hostile style. Vitor’s glove grazed his outer eyelid and it caused a HORRIFIC paper cut-esque slice. Yeah, a paper cut that could actually make your eye-ball drop out of your head. It was gross and it was an absolutely warranted stoppage by the hot red-headed doctor (that I still dream of). Yet, 45 seconds later and the championship fight was over without a single punch landing cleanly.
Look, I get that every sport has to start somewhere. I GET THIS. But even by the incredibly low standards of the UFC circa 1997, Frank Shamrock’s light heavyweight title defenses against Igor Zinoviev and John Lober were laughably misguided at best and staged public executions at worst. While the promotion’s heavyweight division featured such names as Mark Coleman, Maurice Smith, and Randy Couture battling it out for the title, down at 205, they were booking Shamrock in freak show matches that even the Japanese wouldn’t touch with a ten foot gunto. The Japanese, you guys.
Where shall we begin?
Ah yes, that’s Franky boy slamming Igor through the mat in under 30 seconds at UFC 16. What a contest.
How a man coming off a pair of draws can be fast-tracked to a title shot in his promotional debut is anyone’s guess. Maybe the UFC honestly thought that this Igor character was the next Randy Couture, or perhaps he just possessed some otherworldly trash-talking skills. In any case, we were left with a pathetic mismatch, one completely shattered collarbone, and a ringside medical crew questioning whether or not a spatula was an appropriate tool to lift a fighter onto a stretcher with by the time all was said and done. Oh yeah, and Igor never fought again. He always knows when it’s about to rain, though, so perhaps it was for the best.
And if you think that’s bad, just try finding a video of Shamrock’s third title defense — a rematch against John Lober at UFC Ultimate Brazil. You won’t be able to, because the UFC most likely destroyed all evidence of the fight for legal reasons. We’ve all heard the story before: Lober managed to score a controversial technical split decision victory over Shamrock at a SuperBrawl event in Hawaii in ’97, so one year later, the UFC decided, “Hey, why not have these two settle the score now that ShamWow is the champ?”
“Sure, Lober has gone 0-5-1 in the time since they first squared off,” they said whilst diving nose first into a mountain of cocaine the likes of which you have never seen, “But it will sell because GRUDGE MATCH.” It’s a strategy that the UFC utilizes to this day, but never did it appear more transparent than during the 7-and-a-half-minute beat down that Shamaroo dished out on Lober before forcing him to tap to strikes.
Lober would go on to score two wins in his next seven contests, and Shamrock would defend the light heavyweight title against his only true test in Tito Ortiz before leaving the UFC citing “a lack of competition.” No shit.
Wow, you guys certainly left me with some options, huh? Let’s see…I guess I should point out that Ben Goldstein, if he was available to contribute, would have picked Anderson Silva vs. Thales Leites, which is the only reason why I won’t be covering that turd on a plate. I could go old-school, “how the hell is one of those guys fighting for a title in the first place?” and tackle Pat Miletich vs. Andre Pederneiras or Maurice Smith vs. Randy Couture, but considering how weak the talent pool in general was back then, it really wouldn’t be fair to include them. So instead I’ll do something even broader, lazier, yet somehow twice as deserving as the rest of the fights we’ve omitted combined, and nominate all of Tim Sylvia’s title defenses as my selection.
Boring title fights from guys like Anderson Silva and Georges St. Pierre – while infuriating for fans to watch – are at least forgivable on the basis that they’re boring because the champion is simply that much more talented than the guy across the cage from him. I may not get too excited about watching GSP jab for five rounds, but I’ll be damned if I don’t acknowledge him as the greatest welterweight in the history of our sport. With Tim Sylvia, this was most definitely not the case.
Sylvia was a champion when the heavyweight division was weak enough for the “Cabbage” Correiras of the world to pick up victories inside the Octagon. During his reign over the heavyweight division, the “strikers” either lacked anything resembling technique (Exhibit A: Gan McGee) or lacked a tough enough chin to actually exchange punches with the big man (Exhibit B: Sylvia/Arlovski III), and the grapplers lacked the striking chops necessary to penetrate The Maine-iac’s awkward jabs (Exhibit C: Jeff Monson). In a sport defined by the diverse skills and athleticism of its athletes, Sylvia managed to defend the UFC heavyweight title that Cain Velasquez proudly wears by simply taking up space and staying on his feet; a “Great White Stiff” with unlimited upward mobility, ”the poster child for over-achievement.”
Fortunately for the fans who tried to stay awake during his title defenses, he was eventually matched up against Randy Couture, and that fight was incredibly memorable thanks to A.) how badass The Natural is and B.) a moment early in the first round, when Couture took Sylvia’s back and (not quite) Fatty Boom-Boom (yet) stalled in an effort to get a completely unnecessary stand-up, which inspired one of Joe Rogan’s greatest rants (“You’re on your back, tough! Figure out a way to get up! If that’s boring, baseball’s about a million times more boring!” Classic.). Ever since that fight, Sylvia began his transformation into the amorphous blob of his former self who loses to guys you’ve never heard of on the “Where are they now?” circuit that we know today. He’s still holding out hope for the possibility of a UFC comeback, but after watching him defend the once-meaningless UFC heavyweight championship…it’s probably for the best that he never even gets close to fighting for it again.
Did we repress all memories of your least-favorite UFC title fight? Then have the honor of ruining our weekends by bringing it up in the comments section.
(Insert whatever version of a “Ground-n-Pound” sex joke you see fit here.)
When UFC Hall of Famer Mark Coleman stormed onto the mixed martial arts scene in 1996 following a storied college wrestling career and top 10 placing in the 1992 Summer Olympics, he brought with him an economic, workman style of fighting that would lead him to championship glory on his first night out. The event was the aptly-named UFC 10: The Tournament, and after beating the rights to the nickname “The Hammer” out of Moti Horenstein in his very first fight (an agreement that Moti never honored), Coleman would take out veteran Gary Goodridge and UFC 8 tournament winner Don Frye in back-to-back fights to claim the tournament championship. Coleman would repeat this feat in even more dominant fashion at UFC 11 and would unify the Heavyweight and Superfight Championships at UFC 12 the following year by choking out fellow scary wrestler Dan Severn. With the victory, Coleman’s legacy as one of the sport’s pioneers was all but written in the history books.
But Coleman didn’t stop there. Over the next 14 years, Coleman would not only popularize but would be dubbed “The Godfather” of the wrestling-based, “ground-n-pound” attack that would lead him to a PRIDE openweight championship in 2000 and a list of victories over the likes of Mauricio Rua, Stephan Bonnar, and Igor Vovchanchyn to name a few. But as all good things must come to an end, so must the legendary career of the now 48 year-old Coleman. Although he hasn’t fought since his 2010 submission loss to Randy Couture — a bout that would mark the first Hall of Famer vs. Hall of Famer fight in UFC history — Coleman has decided to officially announce his retirement from the sport as of yesterday. “The Hammer,” who is scheduled to undergo hip surgery next week (because that’s what old people do, amiright? *self-fives*), posted the following on his Facebook:
Total Hip replacement next Monday. Ouch.
The hammer is done fighting. I know been done. Just looking for some prayers.
i thank everyone who will help me get through this. Have to pay to play sometimes. Only regret is could have worked harder.
Love you all live your dream.
After the jump: A look back at some of Coleman’s greatest moments, as well as one of his worst.
(Insert whatever version of a “Ground-n-Pound” sex joke you see fit here.)
When UFC Hall of Famer Mark Coleman stormed onto the mixed martial arts scene in 1996 following a storied college wrestling career and top 10 placing in the 1992 Summer Olympics, he brought with him an economic, workman style of fighting that would lead him to championship glory on his first night out. The event was the aptly-named UFC 10: The Tournament, and after beating the rights to the nickname “The Hammer” out of Moti Horenstein in his very first fight (an agreement that Moti never honored), Coleman would take out veteran Gary Goodridge and UFC 8 tournament winner Don Frye in back-to-back fights to claim the tournament championship. Coleman would repeat this feat in even more dominant fashion at UFC 11 and would unify the Heavyweight and Superfight Championships at UFC 12 the following year by choking out fellow scary wrestler Dan Severn. With the victory, Coleman’s legacy as one of the sport’s pioneers was all but written in the history books.
But Coleman didn’t stop there. Over the next 14 years, Coleman would not only popularize but would be dubbed “The Godfather” of the wrestling-based, “ground-n-pound” attack that would lead him to a PRIDE openweight championship in 2000 and a list of victories over the likes of Mauricio Rua, Stephan Bonnar, and Igor Vovchanchyn to name a few. But as all good things must come to an end, so must the legendary career of the now 48 year-old Coleman. Although he hasn’t fought since his 2010 submission loss to Randy Couture — a bout that would mark the first Hall of Famer vs. Hall of Famer fight in UFC history — Coleman has decided to officially announce his retirement from the sport as of yesterday. “The Hammer,” who is scheduled to undergo hip surgery next week (because that’s what old people do, amiright? *self-fives*), posted the following on his Facebook:
Total Hip replacement next Monday. Ouch.
The hammer is done fighting. I know been done. Just looking for some prayers.
i thank everyone who will help me get through this. Have to pay to play sometimes. Only regret is could have worked harder.
Love you all live your dream.
After the jump: A look back at some of Coleman’s greatest moments, as well as one of his worst.
Coleman vs. Vovchanchyn (Pride FC 2000 Openweight Grand Prix Finals)
(some of) Coleman vs. Frye (UFC 10: The Tournament Finals)
Meet Alan “45 of these across the sneeze” Kahn, a self-described “frustrated drummer trying to get a work out” who is here to transport you back to the cocaine-filled fairy tale that was 1985 via the power of DeBarge’s “Rhythm of the Night,” which Alan will be rhythmically accompanying on his trusty 8×5 speed bag with a beat that will get you laid yesterday.
You see, our buddy Alan here is kind of a guru when it comes to the long lost art of rhythmic-speed-bag-punch-drumming. He has released an instructional DVD on the concept, boldly and somewhat blasphemously titled “The Speed Bag Bible,” which you can purchase on Amazon for the low, low price of $19.77 (Free Shipping!). He also runs the website Speed Bag Central, a Texas-based you are already clicking the link, aren’t you? I don’t blame you; I’ve already ordered five copies of “The Speed Bag Bible” and plan on handing them out as Christmas gifts this year to the ones I hold dearest.
The speed bag is to Alan Kahn what a secretive mix of 11 herbs and spices was to Colonel Sanders, and his Youtube hits need to start reflecting how truly innovative this man is. If a 17 second clip of a sneezing baby Panda can attain over 150 million views, then this clip of Alan punch-drumming the Mortal Kombat theme should easily be able to reach into the hundreds of billions. So head over to the official speed bag Youtube page and check out all of Alan’s videos, which include covers of everything from Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust” to The Who’s “Pinball Wizard.”
After the jump: Meet the rest of the punch-drumming gang through an And1-style mixtape that will instantly make you want to burn all of your old And1 mixtapes. Advanced warning.
(Major props to Stan Horaczek for the find.)
Meet Alan “45 of these across the sneeze” Kahn, a self-described “frustrated drummer trying to get a work out” who is here to transport you back to the cocaine-filled fairy tale that was 1985 via the power of DeBarge’s “Rhythm of the Night,” which Alan will be rhythmically accompanying on his trusty 8×5 speed bag with a beat that will get you laid yesterday.
You see, our buddy Alan here is kind of a guru when it comes to the long lost art of rhythmic-speed-bag-punch-drumming. He has released an instructional DVD on the concept, boldly and somewhat blasphemously titled “The Speed Bag Bible,” which you can purchase on Amazon for the low, low price of $19.77 (Free Shipping!). He also runs the website Speed Bag Central, a Texas-based you are already clicking the link, aren’t you? I don’t blame you; I’ve already ordered five copies of “The Speed Bag Bible” and plan on handing them out as Christmas gifts this year to the ones I hold dearest.
The speed bag is to Alan Kahn what a secretive mix of 11 herbs and spices was to Colonel Sanders, and his Youtube hits need to start reflecting how truly innovative this man is. If a 17 second clip of a sneezing baby Panda can attain over 150 million views, then this clip of Alan punch-drumming the Mortal Kombat theme should easily be able to reach into the hundreds of billions. So head over to the official speed bag Youtube page and check out all of Alan’s videos, which include covers of everything from Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust” to The Who’s “Pinball Wizard.”
After the jump: Meet the rest of the punch-drumming gang through an And1-style mixtape that will instantly make you want to burn all of your old And1 mixtapes. Advanced warning.
If the stare that comes at the 46 second mark does not cast a chill down your spine, chances are you’re already paralyzed from the neck down, in which case we apologize for bringing such a sensitive issue to light.
…
So can we bring Dan Severn out of retirement to fight this dude? It would look like the final scene in The One, only with twice the grit, twice the mustaches, and a shitload more racial slurs rabbit punches.
As Strikeforce prepares to close their doors forever and the UFC continues to march forward in their quest for global domination, I can’t help but wonder what impact an organization like Pride FC could have on the sport if they could come back no…
As Strikeforce prepares to close their doors forever and the UFC continues to march forward in their quest for global domination, I can’t help but wonder what impact an organization like Pride FC could have on the sport if they could come back now, in 2013.
At their peak, Pride was the premier organization for MMA, second to none.
Much talk has been made about how the UFC will never co-promote, but during the Pride Middleweight Tournament in 2003, the UFC sent Chuck Liddell into the Pride ring, and make no mistake about that, they were co-promoting with Pride.
To be plain, I have always believed that competition is good in the combative sports.
I think when one show rules the road, fighters begin to slip through the cracks, suffering due to not enough chances to fight and worse, their performances and hard work are taken for granted.
After all, where else are they going to go?
Granted, there is Bellator, and I love that show. There is something about it that is serious enough to speak to a passion for the sport, professional enough to make you forget that nearly all of those fighters would bolt for the UFC if Joe Silva called, and there is a kind of integrity the organization possesses, simply because they are doing it their own way, Dana White be damned.
But in all honesty, if there is a problem with the sport right now, it is not the near stranglehold the UFC has, and it sure isn’t Dana White.
It’s a flaw intrinsic to the system itself, nothing more and nothing less.
Even if the UFC were to nearly double in size overnight, they could only increase their output of shows by about 20 percent, and that would probably be too much, given how they have basically saturated the PPV market.
There are still so many untapped countries that the other combative sports have shown have a deep well of talent, and no matter how big the UFC grows, they can’t employ them all and they can’t give them all the exposure they need.
Mexico, Russia and Japan are just a few examples of this. Yes, the UFC is attempting to get back into the Far East markets, but it is going to be a long time before they really get a solid enough footing to draw deep from that well.
And they haven’t even attempted to start making inroads to Mexico and Russia, at least not to any extent that is noteworthy.
When pondering the question further, I then remember that Pride FC started with fighters who came from the UFC.
Yes, Pride had a lot of money and managed to get a small number of bigger name fighters to defect, but the first Pride shows were built upon the names of UFC fighters who had been all but forgotten.
Dan Severn, Kimo Leopoldo, Gary Goodridge and OlegTaktarov were really the biggest names on the first Pride card, save for Rickson Gracie and NobuhikoTakada, and they pulled around 47,000 fans out of their homes and into the arena to watch.
From there, they began to mix their cards with bigger name UFC castoffs and defectors and newer talent, and they turned into the biggest promotion of their time.
As impressive as the UFC stable is now, there are still quite a few big names not pledging allegiance to their banner, and those men and women love to fight.
Josh Barnett could probably be lured into the fold, along with GegardMousasi, Ben Askren, Michael Chandler, BibianoFernandes, Marlon Sandro, Andrei Arlovski, Tim Sylvia, Quinton “Rampage” Jackson (once his contract is up), Pedro Rizzo, Matt Lindland, Sergei Kharitonov, Jeff Monson, and so on.
None of these men are the best in their divisions, but a few of them are in the top 10, and if such a new company really wanted to get attention, they would need only call upon some of their national heroes, such as KazushiSakuraba and ShinyaAoki, along with new fighters itching to make a splash, and suddenly you have all the makings for an entertaining night of fights.
Notice I said “entertaining,” not meaningful. Really none of the fights on a new promotion’s first few fight cards are going to have any real divisional ramifications, but they could entertain the crowd and viewers, and that is how such things begin.
Once such a promotion got their feet under them and began walking (not running), they could attract a lot of attention, both from fans and other fighters either tired of dealing with the UFC (or waiting on them) or just eager to get noticed on a bigger stage.
In the end, as long as said promotion paid well and kept to their books with an eye toward serious fiscal responsibility, they could start talking in a language all fighters understand: money.
When the first incarnation of Pride fell, the sport was not nearly as big as it is now. Thanks to the growth of the UFC and the exposure the sport has enjoyed as a byproduct, a new Japanese promotion might be able to get partners to invest in them, and god knows how big a promotion could get if a company like Sony took an interest and was willing to put their money in the pot.
Of course, all of this is nothing more the speculation and assumption, and proceeding from those assumptions, but it is possible.
However, the real question becomes: “Is it probable?”
Right now, in 2013, I think not. Japan is still in the process of recovery from many woes, and that takes time, and if a promotion was started now, I think they would falter and fall.
In April 2011, Dan Severn became just the second fighter in MMA history to earn his 100th professional victory, following workaholic journeyman Travis Fulton. The simple fact that Severn was still an active cage-fighter 17 years after his UFC debut was surprising enough — let alone that he was still competing at least four times a year while in his 50s, and regularly whooping dudes half his age.
Joining the “100 Club” turned out to be the last great achievement in Severn’s marathon combat sports career, which is marked by a pair of All-American honors as a wrestler at Arizona State University, an induction into ASU’s wrestling Hall of Fame, two eight-man tournament sweeps in the UFC (at UFC 5 and Ultimate Ultimate 1995), a UFC Superfight Championship title, and an induction into the UFC Hall of Fame. On Monday, Dan “The Beast” Severn announced his official retirement from MMA at the age of 54, leaving an astounding career record of 101-19-7. Here’s his statement, taken from dansevern.com:
“Another Chapter, Comes to a Close”
The number one goal that I set for myself in 2012 was to be finished with my Mix Martial Arts Competition career. I was attempting to do my own self-directed retirement tour in the last couple of years reaching out to only three people…Mark Coleman, Ken Shamrock, and Royce Gracie. I spoke to two of them directly (Mark, and Ken), and through representative (MGR) for Royce. It seems as though these matches will not take place for whatever reasons and my life now goes on to the next chapter.
In April 2011, Dan Severn became just the second fighter in MMA history to earn his 100th professional victory, following workaholic journeyman Travis Fulton. The simple fact that Severn was still an active cage-fighter 17 years after his UFC debut was surprising enough — let alone that he was still competing at least four times a year while in his 50s, and regularly whooping dudes half his age.
Joining the “100 Club” turned out to be the last great achievement in Severn’s marathon combat sports career, which is marked by a pair of All-American honors as a wrestler at Arizona State University, an induction into ASU’s wrestling Hall of Fame, two eight-man tournament sweeps in the UFC (at UFC 5 and Ultimate Ultimate 1995), a UFC Superfight Championship title, and an induction into the UFC Hall of Fame. On Monday, Dan “The Beast” Severn announced his official retirement from MMA at the age of 54, leaving an astounding career record of 101-19-7. Here’s his statement, taken from dansevern.com:
“Another Chapter, Comes to a Close”
The number one goal that I set for myself in 2012 was to be finished with my Mix Martial Arts Competition career. I was attempting to do my own self-directed retirement tour in the last couple of years reaching out to only three people…Mark Coleman, Ken Shamrock, and Royce Gracie. I spoke to two of them directly (Mark, and Ken), and through representative (MGR) for Royce. It seems as though these matches will not take place for whatever reasons and my life now goes on to the next chapter.
I will still be involved with MMA working with various companies to support the industry, and help to take it on to the next level in roles such as: Play by play color commentator, Commissioner, Goodwill Ambassador, doing appearances, etc, etc., just no longer the competitor. The MMA workshops and seminars will continue. I have a lot of fun with them and enjoy the interaction with the young competitors as they are just commencing their careers especially when they learn a new technique, or a competition tactic, and seeing the excitement in their eyes, and hearing it in their voice.
2013 will be my final year in Professional Wrestling as a performer. So Promoters be warned. If you have been thinking about utilizing my skills as a performer, contact me and we’ll make it happen in this upcoming year. I will continue just like in MMA to be involved in it, teaching it, running shows, doing appearances and such, just no longer the entertainer.
Severn added that he’ll also be spending more time on combat training seminars and public speaking, and plans to write a memoir filled with stories from his life. He concludes:
“I have had a life with much success but not without its cost. That cost was family time. The past couple of years I have tried to spend more time with family, and will continue to do so. It has been difficult to juggle so many different parts of my career, but that is when opportunity presented itself…such as my MMA career beginning at the age of 37, and now ending at age 54. Father time is telling me, it is time to let go. I have learned over time that the only constant factor is change. It will happen, and there is nothing we can do to stop it, so smile, hold on, and embrace it for all that it has to offer and hopefully you too will have the ride of your life!!!! Happy New Year!!!!!”
“Standing 6’2”, weighing a stout 250 pounds, and sporting a ferocious mustache, Dan Severn was the UFC’s original big scary wrestler — the forefather of all the Brock Lesnars and Ryan Baders of the world. [Ed. note: Man, 2009 was a different time, huh.] Though his first attempt to win a UFC tournament got derailed by a Royce Gracie triangle choke at UFC 4, the two-time All-American wrestler returned four months later to sweep the eight-man bracket at UFC 5. Severn went on to win the Ultimate Ultimate 1995 tourney, avenged an earlier loss to Ken Shamrock at UFC 9, and fought 100 more times after that...
The Beast proved that you didn’t need to be a jiu-jitsu master to own people on the ground. His gameplan was simple but effective: 1) Take your opponent down. 2) Wrap your arm around his neck. 3) Get your hand raised by Big John. Strikers were immediately taken out of their element, and other grapplers were simply unable to deal with his size and power. Finally, America had its own Ultimate Fighting hero.
Severn’s success in the UFC paved the way for other hulking heavyweight wrestlers like Mark Kerr and Mark Coleman — who defeated Severn during his final Octagon appearance at UFC 12 — to enter the UFC and have their own dominant runs, rudely interrupting the early dominance of Gracie jiu-jitsu.
Though Severn’s time at the top of the heap was over by 1997, he never stopped competing. But unlike other MMA pioneers who continued fighting after their prime, Severn never embarrassed himself in the process. He wasn’t a punch-drunk shell of his former self, taking beatings just to pay the rent. He traveled the world winning far more often than he lost, scoring victories over notable names like Paul Buentello, the aforementioned Travis Fulton (three times!), Wes Sims, Forrest Griffin, Justin Eilers, and Colin Robinson.
Following his 100th victory, Severn suffered a pair of knockout losses to Ryan Fortin and Lee Beane. It was the first time that Severn had been KO’d in back-to-back fights, and signaled that the end was growing near for his competitive career. (This was another unfortunate red flag.) As he explained to us in his first Ask Dan column last November, training had become less of a priority due to family obligations:
“I can’t regret taking the [Beane] fight but it didn’t happen at the best time in my career. What the fans see is one aspect but they don’t have a clue as to what I endured for 3 ½ to 4 months before the fight in terms of taking care of my father. Prior to my last fight, my siblings and I were providing home hospice-type care for my father and since I have the most flexible schedule, I was the primary caregiver during the normal working day times. On weekends I would leave late Friday and would be back late Sunday to resume my duties. And I would not change that for the world.”
If you never knew him personally, it’s easy to think of Severn in terms of caricature — the roaring, black-shorted bear-man from Coldwater, Michigan. For me, those Ask Dan columns revealed so much about Dan’s personality and character, and I recommend perusing them if you never got a chance to do so. They show Dan as a thoughtful historian of the sport with a sharp sense of humor and a genuine regard for humanity. Unlike so many other athletes who get into MMA, Severn’s goal was to inflict as little damage as possible in his fights; he had a hard time bringing himself to throw strikes in his early career, as he didn’t want to cause his opponents any unnecessary pain.
That’s the kind of man he was. Despite Eddie Goldman’s claim to the title, Dan Severn was the true “conscience of MMA.” Say goodbye to one of the good guys.
