Don Frye told us that he’d be back after his UFC 168 installment of “Predator’s Predictions”, and since the only lie he ever told was that he’d call your mother the next day, “The Predator” has returned with UFC 169 in his crosshairs this time around.
What’s that, you say? There’s actually a different UFC event going down this weekend on Fox? THE PREDATOR HAS NOT THE TIME FOR YOUR MIDDLING CABLE TV CARDS. And if you don’t like how he does business, he’s sure there’s a Designing Women marathon with your name on it playing somewhere, bud.
After opening up this edition of “Predator’s Predictions” by alienating his dissenters as pathetic girlie-men and thanking Seth Macfarlane for bringing back Brian on Family Guy, Frye launches right into his usual mix of whiskey-soaked predictions and occasionally misogynistic insights. A few highlights:
–On Dominick Cruz’s latest injury: “I didn’t know Cruz had a groin.”
–On Ali Bagautinov: “Ali…Boobanov. He’s like the Tazmanian Devil on crack.”
–On Ricardo Lamas: “I remember Lorenzo from the hit TV show Renegade 17 years ago.”
–-On Ricardo Lamas, again: “You say that your favorite technique is ‘whatever wins me the fight.’ In your fight against Jose Aldo, I might recommend a baseball bat or a gun.”
–-On Renan Barao: “He looks like Veeter Belfort’s mini-me.”
If your voice doesn’t drop three octaves after watching this video, you’re either a eunuch or already dead.
Don Frye told us that he’d be back after his UFC 168 installment of “Predator’s Predictions”, and since the only lie he ever told was that he’d call your mother the next day, “The Predator” has returned with UFC 169 in his crosshairs this time around.
What’s that, you say? There’s actually a different UFC event going down this weekend on Fox? THE PREDATOR HAS NOT THE TIME FOR YOUR MIDDLING CABLE TV CARDS. And if you don’t like how he does business, he’s sure there’s a Designing Women marathon with your name on it playing somewhere, bud.
After opening up this edition of “Predator’s Predictions” by alienating his dissenters as pathetic girlie-men and thanking Seth Macfarlane for bringing back Brian on Family Guy, Frye launches right into his usual mix of whiskey-soaked predictions and occasionally misogynistic insights. A few highlights:
–On Dominick Cruz’s latest injury: “I didn’t know Cruz had a groin.”
–On Ali Bagautinov: “Ali…Boobanov. He’s like the Tazmanian Devil on crack.”
–On Ricardo Lamas: “I remember Lorenzo from the hit TV show Renegade 17 years ago.”
–-On Ricardo Lamas, again: ”You say that your favorite technique is ‘whatever wins me the fight.’ In your fight against Jose Aldo, I might recommend a baseball bat or a gun.”
–-On Renan Barao: “He looks like Veeter Belfort’s mini-me.”
If your voice doesn’t drop three octaves after watching this video, you’re either a eunuch or already dead.
On the off chance you didn’t get everything you wanted for Christmas this year, here’s a video of everything you could ever want for Christmas any year: Don Frye, Don Frye’s mustache, whiskey, a hot chick, and UFC 168 predictions. My chest hair grew three sizes just watching this video.
I can think of no greater gift to bestow upon you Taters this year, so merry (belated) Christmas, you sons a bitches.
On the off chance you didn’t get everything you wanted for Christmas this year, here’s a video of everything you could ever want for Christmas any year: Don Frye, Don Frye’s mustache, whiskey, a hot chick, and UFC 168 predictions. My chest hair grew three sizes just watching this video.
I can think of no greater gift to bestow upon you Taters this year, so merry (belated) Christmas, you sons a bitches.
For some MMA fighters, professional wrestling was just a one-time cash grab. For others, it became a second career. Inspired by yet another week of TNA Impact Wrestling’s efforts to get anyone to care about the professional wrestling experiments of two broken-down MMA legends, we’ll be examining fighters who took up professional wrestling after they made their names in MMA in our newest installment of The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly.
Bear in mind that this article is focusing on mixed martial artists who transitioned to professional wrestling careers, and not fighters who started off as professional wrestlers. So that means fighters like Brock Lesnar, Ken Shamrock, Bobby Lashley, Giant Silva, Bob Sapp, Dos Caras Jr. (aka Alberto Del Rio), Dan Severn (Google it) and Sakuraba will not be covered here — although a few of these men will make appearances in this article. Let’s start off on a positive note…
The Good
The Professional Wrestling Career of Josh Barnett.
When you’re thinking of good instances of an MMA fighter turning to professional wrestling as a second career choice, Josh Barnett should immediately come to mind. There have been other fighters who dabbled in professional wrestling, but Barnett is one of the only ones to be just as popular and successful in it as he was in MMA.
Before his transition, Barnett became the youngest heavyweight champion in UFC history by defeating Randy Couture at UFC 36. After being stripped of his title due to a positive drug test, Barnett set his sights on the Japanese professional wrestling scene, where the fans value legitimacy and toughness from their wrestlers more than mic skills and charisma (although Barnett has both in spades). He immediately challenged for the IWGP Heavyweight Championship, and although he came up short, he went on to enjoy the most relevant crossover career of any fighter on this list before his return to the UFC earlier this year put a halt to the wrasslin’ for the time being.
For some MMA fighters, professional wrestling was just a one-time cash grab. For others, it became a second career. Inspired by yet another week of TNA Impact Wrestling’s efforts to get anyone to care about the professional wrestling experiments of two broken-down MMA legends, we’ll be examining fighters who took up professional wrestling after they made their names in MMA in our newest installment of The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly.
Bear in mind that this article is focusing on mixed martial artists who transitioned to professional wrestling careers, and not fighters who started off as professional wrestlers. So that means fighters like Brock Lesnar, Ken Shamrock, Bobby Lashley, Giant Silva, Bob Sapp, Dos Caras Jr. (aka Alberto Del Rio), Dan Severn (Google it) and Sakuraba will not be covered here — although a few of these men will make appearances in this article. Let’s start off on a positive note…
The Good
The Professional Wrestling Career of Josh Barnett.
When you’re thinking of good instances of an MMA fighter turning to professional wrestling as a second career choice, Josh Barnett should immediately come to mind. There have been other fighters who dabbled in professional wrestling, but Barnett is one of the only ones to be just as popular and successful in it as he was in MMA.
Before his transition, Barnett became the youngest heavyweight champion in UFC history by defeating Randy Couture at UFC 36. After being stripped of his title due to a positive drug test, Barnett set his sights on the Japanese professional wrestling scene, where the fans value legitimacy and toughness from their wrestlers more than mic skills and charisma (although Barnett has both in spades). He immediately challenged for the IWGP Heavyweight Championship, and although he came up short, he went on to enjoy the most relevant crossover career of any fighter on this list before his return to the UFC earlier this year put a halt to the wrasslin’ for the time being.
With Frye’s “rematch” against Yoshihiro Takayama being one of the few exceptions, the professional wrestling careers of Don Frye and Bas Rutten have been exactly what you’d expect them to be. If I need to explain why that’s a good thing, you’reobviouslynewhere.
The Polar Bear Fights Taz at ECW Hardcore Heaven.
(Enjoy the video while it lasts. Seriously, WWE’s lawyers will probably have it taken down soon.)
By 1996, a stocky, Brooklyn-born judoka by the name of Peter Senercia — better known as Taz — was one of the most talented, respected wrestlers on the independent circuit. Dubbed “The Human Suplex Machine,” Taz brawled his way through most of the ECW roster and was looking to take on some credible new opponents. This led to a problem for ECW owner Paul Heyman: Despite its success among hardcore wrestling fans, ECW was still very much an independent promotion that couldn’t afford to bring in established wrestlers just to job to one of their top stars. Always one to embrace new ideas, Heyman solved this dilemma by bringing Paul “The Polar Bear” Varelans in from the upstart Ultimate Fighting Championship to challenge Taz to a “real” fight at Hardcore Heaven.
At 6’8” tall and tipping the scales at 300 pounds, Varelans was the perfect fighter for Heyman to utilize. He was big enough to be seen as a formidable opponent, but his MMA record wasn’t too impressive for anyone to buy that Taz could actually beat him. The strong-style nature of the match hid The Polar Bear’s lack of professional wrestling training, yet also wasn’t out of place in ECW — especially not while Taz was in the ring. And while Taz obviously won the fight, he relied on outside interference. Having heels bend the rules in order to defeat larger, more skilled opponents is not only a common way to generate heat, but it also makes the ending more realistic in the eyes of the ECW fans who were familiar with those early UFC events. Well, at least as realistic as a fight that ends by Tazmission after an outsider dropkicks one of the fighters can look, I guess (work with me, people). Basically, everyone involved benefited from the situation and the fans actually cared about the angle — something that rarely happens when MMA fighters infiltrate the world of professional wrestling.
Bonus: According to wrestling legend, it was Taz who brought tapping out to professional wrestling. Taz was a huge Royce Gracie fan, and thought it would be more authentic if wrestlers tapped out at the end of their matches instead of just verbally submitting. If you think wrestling looks fake now, just imagine what it looked like when wrestlers verbally submitted to choke holds.
Brian Johnson Reinvents Himself in Japan
I’m willing to bet that, like most MMA fans, you’ve all but forgotten about Brian Johnson — the man who punched out a hapless Reza Nasri in under 30 seconds at UFC 11 before being emphatically tackled by Big John McCarthy. In terms of his real fighting career, you didn’t miss much — Johnson retired barely one year after he started fighting and lost to everyone he’s fought that you’ve heard of. However, with few other career options available for hulking spandex-clad athletes, Johnson turned to fake fighting and quickly excelled at it. He enjoyed success as a tag-team wrestler, pairing up with guys like Don Frye and Kazuyuki Fujita in the Japanese professional wrestling circuit.
Unfortunately, Johnson’s professional wrestling career would eventually serve as a brutal reminder that even though the fights are fake, the injuries that plague wrestlers are all too real. A series of concussions led him to retire in early 2001, and later that year, at only thirty-two years old, he would suffer a severe stroke. Though Johnson is alive and well today, he has wisely stayed away from the squared circle.
Hit that “next page” link for god awful gimmicks, the career that should have been, and the partnership that never should have…
Jade Bryce was our favorite MMA ring girl even before she agreed to do this video with us. Now, she’s officially reached CagePotato Hall of Fame status.
Follow Jade on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram, and keep an eye out for her new website, coming soon. And if you want to see a sequel to “MMA Impressions With Jade Bryce,” please throw some impression-suggestions into the comments section…
Jade Bryce was our favorite MMA ring girl even before she agreed to do this video with us. Now, she’s officially reached CagePotato Hall of Fame status.
Follow Jade on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram, and keep an eye out for her new website, coming soon. And if you want to see a sequel to “MMA Impressions With Jade Bryce,” please throw some impression-suggestions into the comments section…
I’ll get this out of the way up front: I’m not exactly a fan of remakes. Attempting to improve something that most people think is fine as-is usually results in the creation of something indefensibly stupid (like that 2002 remake of Rollerball) that will make everyone feel terrible about themselves (like how anyone who paid to watch that 2002 remake of Rollerball felt). This is especially true when the people remaking something completely miss the point of what they’re remaking, and decide to take out all the parts with social commentary and replace them with explosions and sideboob (You get the point).
So I guess it goes without saying that when All Japan Pro Wrestling attempted to recreate Don Frye and Yoshihiro Takayama’s PRIDE 21 encounter during a professional wrestling match last Sunday, I wasn’t exactly a fan. The fact that it happened during a tag team match also featuring Masayuki Kono and Keiji Mutoh didn’t exactly help things for me. Two things before we go any further – yes, fellow wrestling nerds, Keiji Mutoh used to be The Great Muta and no, I didn’t know he was still alive, either.
I’ll get this out of the way up front: I’m not exactly a fan of remakes. Attempting to improve something that most people think is fine as-is usually results in the creation of something indefensibly stupid (like that 2002 remake of Rollerball) that will make everyone feel terrible about themselves (like how anyone who paid to watch that 2002 remake of Rollerball felt). This is especially true when the people remaking something completely miss the point of what they’re remaking, and decide to take out all the parts with social commentary and replace them with explosions and sideboob (You get the point).
So I guess it goes without saying that when All Japan Pro Wrestling attempted to recreate Don Frye and Yoshihiro Takayama’s PRIDE 21 encounter during a professional wrestling match last Sunday, I wasn’t exactly a fan. The fact that it happened during a tag team match also featuring Masayuki Kono and Keiji Mutoh didn’t exactly help things for me. Two things before we go any further – yes, fellow wrestling nerds, Keiji Mutoh used to be The Great Muta and no, I didn’t know he was still alive, either.
Things start off fine, as Don Frye cuts a totally insane promo for the bout (obviously) and then everyone makes their way to the ring. And then the actual match starts, and everything completely goes to shit. Masayuki Kono and Keiji Mutoh demonstrate how an MMA fight would look if one of the participants could barely move after spending nearly thirty years as a professional wrestler and the other participant tried to slow down enough to make his partner look agile. Seriously, you may just want to skip to the 8:16 mark of the video.
Frye and Takayama give the crowd an extended hug, some light shoulder punches and sloppy suplexes that vaguely resembled their PRIDE encounter the same way that Celine Deon’s cover of “You Shook Me All Night Long” vaguely resembles something a person with a soul and a personality would enjoy. Their original encounter was so incredibly dramatic and awesome because it was all very real, despite looking like something straight out of professional wrestling. Their kayfabe recreation, where even the dimmest fans in the audience knew that it was fake, never had a chance at being more than a rest period for Kono and Mutoh.
This wasn’t exactly twenty minutes of lucha libre, but you wouldn’t know it by how badly all four men gassed out by the end. But at least we were given Don Frye stomping on Masayuki Kono until he let go of what sort-of resembled an armbar, so, you know, there’s that.
(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)
