Twitter: The Pros and Cons of the UFC’s Open Social Media Policy

The prominence of social media requires absolutely no discussion. There is not a person reading this article that needs to be told how important Facebook and Twitter are to sports, marketing and business in general. Twitter’s appeal, in large part, is …

The prominence of social media requires absolutely no discussion. There is not a person reading this article that needs to be told how important Facebook and Twitter are to sports, marketing and business in general.

Twitter’s appeal, in large part, is in celebrities opening a window into their life for fans to peep through. Unlike Facebook or MySpace or anything else, Twitter allows the larger-than-life folks to communicate with (as they would say) the commoners, without having to deal with that riffraff talking back.

While other sports generally discourage tweeting with Internet supporters and detractors, the UFC takes a polar opposite stance. Though the NFL hangs on what can go wrong, MMA promoters realize that the one-on-one interaction that Twitter offers is valuable at every level of the company from executives reminding consumers about events to fighters connecting with fans.

The thing is, all those executives and all those fighters are still human. Humans, by and large, are not perfect and therefore, make mistakes. As Hayley Williams, Gilbert Gottfried and Rashard Mendenhall can all attest to, one poorly thought out post on Twitter can quickly change the public’s perception of anyone.

Regardless, the UFC is always looking for publicity. A strong presence on Twitter offers them the chance for bonus headlines

Ultimately, the results have been somewhat mixed, leading many to weigh the pros and cons of the UFC’s tweeting enthusiasm. Figuring out whether or not this is a net gain for the UFC is difficult, but something worth pondering. So what, then, are the pros and cons of all this?

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Keith Jardine and 10 Tough Guys That Should Retire

Mixed martial arts fans tend to find an emotional connection towards their favorite fighters. It’s the nasty pit in our stomach that feels like we swallowed a hot ball of lead any time our hero eats a vicious knockout at the hands of his foe.Fans and i…

Mixed martial arts fans tend to find an emotional connection towards their favorite fighters. It’s the nasty pit in our stomach that feels like we swallowed a hot ball of lead any time our hero eats a vicious knockout at the hands of his foe.

Fans and industry personnel alike had begged Chuck Liddell to consider hanging up his gloves after his loss to Shogun Rua, as it was the third tremendous lights-out moment suffered in a five-fight span.

Thankfully, Liddell would take the advance of Dana White and call it a day, but there are still many stars competing who should think about making their way to the door.

One fighter who comes to mind immediately is Keith Jardine. His losses greatly outnumber his wins in recent years, and he has received some hellacious knockouts that will live on highlight reels forever.

Here is a look at 10 fighters, historically known as tough guys, who should call it a day and ride off into the sunset.

Author’s Note: I want to address comments that I know are coming before they arrive. 

You probably expect to see Wanderlei Silva on this list, but you won’t. The former PRIDE champion has looked solid in his last performances and has shown us that he can still take a punch and dole out tremendous punishment.

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TUF or WTF?: A Season-by-Season Retrospective of The Ultimate Fighter


(Thanks to tufentertainment.net for the fitting logo.)

By Nathan Smith

With the recent announcement that Roy Nelson and Shane Carwin have been named as the coaches for the next installment of The Ultimate Fighter series, the MMA universe immediately launched into a full-blow orgasmic ticker-tape parade complete with tons of flying confetti and a marching band belting out death metal tunes. Once I heard the news, it was as if my life instantaneously turned into a beer commercial and the entire Potato Nation was invited. There was a rad pool-party, barbeque, a plethora of hotties, endless alcohol, and an overall quest for fun.

Well . . . . . actually, none of that happened. In fact, when word spread that Nelson and Carwin would helm the next season of TUF, it was officially filed under “WTF?” Judging from the comment section, most of the CP brethren didn’t care for the choices either. TUF is coming off a season that saw the ratings dip lower than they ever had, which could partially be blamed on the move to FX and the dreaded Friday night time slot. Regardless of the variables for the ratings drop, something drastic needs to be done, but is anybody really convinced that Carwin and Nelson are the answer to TUF’s slow and painful demise? Let’s start from the beginning and take a look back to see if this runaway train can be coaxed back onto the main rail.

The Season That Started it All 

The inaugural season of TUF featured future Hall of Famers Chuck Liddell and Randy Couture as the competing coaches who would go mano y mano at the PPV after the season finale. For fans of the UFC, that was good enough for most to initially tune in for the Fertitta-funded experiment. It still remains the best crop of young talent and personalities to ever grace the show; future stars like Forrest Griffin, Stephan Bonnar, Josh Koscheck, Chris Leben, Diego Sanchez, Mike Swick, Kenny Florian, and Nate Quarry were all complete unknowns vying for stardom in a fledgling sport. You mix in the whole “fatherless bastard” angle and the show was off and running even before the awe-inspiring climax between (pre TRT) FoGrif and The American Psycho. Even before that, we were treated to the greatest speech of all time that has since been condensed into a few words. “Do you wanna be a fighter?” Though there were other memorable moments from the seasons that followed, Zuffa should have quit while they were ahead because it would never be this good again. The unrefined personification of immature talent, undeniable aspirations and gonzo-sized balls oozed from the boob tube during every episode.


(Thanks to tufentertainment.net for the fitting logo.)

By Nathan Smith

With the recent announcement that Roy Nelson and Shane Carwin have been named as the coaches for the next installment of The Ultimate Fighter series, the MMA universe immediately launched into a full-blow orgasmic ticker-tape parade complete with tons of flying confetti and a marching band belting out death metal tunes. Once I heard the news, it was as if my life instantaneously turned into a beer commercial and the entire Potato Nation was invited. There was a rad pool-party, barbeque, a plethora of hotties, endless alcohol, and an overall quest for fun.

Well . . . . . actually, none of that happened. In fact, when word spread that Nelson and Carwin would helm the next season of TUF, it was officially filed under “WTF?” Judging from the comment section, most of the CP brethren didn’t care for the choices either. TUF is coming off a season that saw the ratings dip lower than they ever had, which could partially be blamed on the move to FX and the dreaded Friday night time slot. Regardless of the variables for the ratings drop, something drastic needs to be done, but is anybody really convinced that Carwin and Nelson are the answer to TUF’s slow and painful demise? Let’s start from the beginning and take a look back to see if this runaway train can be coaxed back onto the main rail.

The Season That Started it All 

The inaugural season of TUF featured future Hall of Famers Chuck Liddell and Randy Couture as the competing coaches who would go mano y mano at the PPV after the season finale. For fans of the UFC, that was good enough for most to initially tune in for the Fertitta-funded experiment. It still remains the best crop of young talent and personalities to ever grace the show; future stars like Forrest Griffin, Stephan Bonnar, Josh Koscheck, Chris Leben, Diego Sanchez, Mike Swick, Kenny Florian, and Nate Quarry were all complete unknowns vying for stardom in a fledgling sport. You mix in the whole “fatherless bastard” angle and the show was off and running even before the awe-inspiring climax between (pre TRT) FoGrif and The American Psycho. Even before that, we were treated to the greatest speech of all time that has since been condensed into a few words. “Do you wanna be a fighter?” Though there were other memorable moments from the seasons that followed, Zuffa should have quit while they were ahead because it would never be this good again. The unrefined personification of immature talent, undeniable aspirations and gonzo-sized balls oozed from the boob tube during every episode.

Season 2 

Season 2 saw Rich Franklin coach opposite Matt Hughes, and since both men competed at different weight classes, they were obviously not going to fight at the conclusion of the season. This was a prime example of the UFC throwing shit against the wall to see if it would stick by parading two somewhat charismatic champions in front of the camera with hopes of gathering ratings/fans for the upcoming UFC 56 PPV. Although it was undoubtedly a less thrilling season than that of its predecessor, it did introduce to another future light heavyweight champion in Rashad Evans, who won the contract competing as a heavyweight, as well as such names as Joe Stevenson, Melvin Guillard, and future pound-for-pound punching bag GOAT Keith Jardine. And if not for Jardine, the worldmay have never learned that “The Dean of Mean” would make no sense if his last name was Johnson, a valuable take home indeed.

Season 3 

Season 3 is one of my personal favorites because of the preconceived notions about coaches: Tito Ortiz and Ken Shamrock. Tito was working the crap out of “The Huntington Beach Bad Boy” gimmick and wore the black hat pretty damn well even though he desperately wanted to be accepted by everyone. On the other hand, Shamrock was the MMA legend who competed in the very first UFC tournament and was the founder of his own training facility – The Lion’s Den. Shamrock was supposed to be the more seasoned coach, but chose to bring in weight lifting specialists and opted to rewatch videos of his UFC fights instead of training during an infamous episode, among other baffling decisions. Tito, conversely, came across as a guy that was genuinely committed to making his team better fighters through technique (believe it or not) and some crazy conditioning drills involving piggyback rides and vacant floors of Las Vegas hotels. In the end, Tito TKO’d Ken in just over a minute and Michael Bisping began his quest to piss off everybody around the world en route to winning the LHW contract.

Season 4 – The Comeback

Season 4 came upon us with the familiar sound of a giant turd smacking against a cinder block divider. Luckily for the UFC, a Ram-Manesque New Yorker with a perfectly timed overhand right came along and the dookie kind of stuck. I am not exactly sure who came up with the idea of bringing back washed up fighters mixed with a few coulda-shoulda guys coupled with a blend of has-beens and never-weres, but I am certain it must have sounded phenomenal during the pitch meeting.  This was the only other season that featured an abundance of talent (albeit fleeting talent) like the first season. Shonie Carter, Patrick Côté, Matt Serra, Travis Lutter, Jorge Rivera, Pete Sell, *cough convicted rapist *cough* Jeremy Jackson, Scott Smith, Din Thomas, Mikey Burnett, and (everybody’s favorite) Chris Lytle. All of these guys were waaaaaay professional for any of the usual drama to become too much of an issue, aside from Shonie’s batshit craziness, that is. There were no head coaches but instead guest coaches, and all the fighters shared instructors Mark DellaGrotte as their striking guru and Marc Laimon as the perceived submission specialist. Season highlights include a goggled Burnett self-concussing himself while running through some sheet rock (forgetting that code requires studs every 16 inches), Serra calling Laimon a pussy for never stepping into the real world of fighting and of course . . . . . this.  After the season there would be a fundamental plummet to mediocrity.

Season 5, or, the Aforementioned Plummet to Mediocrity

Season 5 was back to a basic grudge match between BJ Penn and Jens Pulver.  The session would have been pretty tense if Pulver actually won his “welcome back to the UFC” fight months prior. Instead, Jens got KTFO by a wild-eyed nobody (at the time) named Joe Lauzon. How do you remedy this issue? Make Lauzon a participant during the season and have BJ make the guys raise their hands if they did NOT want to be on Pulver’s team. We were also introduced to the unrefined, yet potent, skills of Nate Diaz (along with his brotherly inspired “Fuck You” demeanor towards Karo Parisyan) and some Ping-Pong skills that would make Forrest Gump puke. So, basically the entire thing resembled a trash can fire without the Doo Wop.

On the next page: Disgusting pranks, trans-Atlantic rivalry, and a pugilist named Slice. 

Nate Marquardt: TRT or Not TRT That Is the Question

Apparently Testosterone Replacement Therapy (TRT) is not the wonder-PED we all believed it to be. At least, that seems to be the story we are being fed in certain corners of the MMA universe, in the aftermath of Nate Marquardt’s vintage performan…

Apparently Testosterone Replacement Therapy (TRT) is not the wonder-PED we all believed it to be. At least, that seems to be the story we are being fed in certain corners of the MMA universe, in the aftermath of Nate Marquardt’s vintage performance on Saturday night.

Over at MMAFighting.com, Mike Chiappetta has suggested that TRT may not be all it’s cracked up to be:

“On Saturday night, Nate Marquardt fought off of TRT. He looked powerful, explosive and seemed to carry his cardio deep into his fourth-round knockout of Tyron Woodley. And Marquardt wasn’t the only person over the last week to do so. At UFC 148, Shane Roller put TRT in his rearview mirror and still beat John Alessio.”

At the risk of appearing combative, the above reasoning is almost comically incoherent. Sure, TRT may not be equivalent to a radioactive spider bite, or exposure to gamma rays, but one needn’t transform into Spiderman or The Hulk in order to gain a competitive edge.

Mike Chiappetta is setting up a false dichotomy, as though the efficacy of TRT can only be assessed by recourse to two extremes: human or superhuman. That is not how PEDs work, nor should anyone judge the impact of PED use based on a sample of one—or two if we include Shane Roller.

Ben Fowlkes, speaking on the Co-Main Event podcast, was similarly unimpressed with the argument against the efficacy of TRT:

“Just because you are doing something that is performance-enhancing and you don’t absolutely demolish the dude, that doesn’t mean that we should just let everyone do it.”

Fowlkes goes on to discuss Debbie Dunn, the US sprinter who was recently popped for high levels of testosterone. Dunn qualified for the US Olympic team by finishing fourth in the 400m at the Olympic trials.

However, does her failure to break the world record, or even place in a medal position, render her steady diet of testosterone irrelevant? Absolutely not. We do not judge the legitimacy of a performance based on whether or not the athlete in question acquires super powers.

On the flip side of this issue, when a fighter comes off of testosterone, cold turkey, and subsequently looks better than ever, it is worth asking whether they ever really needed it in the first place.

This is particularly true in the case of TRT, given that one is expected to be on it indefinitely once the therapy begins.

One gets the feeling that some journalists want to simply move past the issue of TRT, making the case that it is perhaps not as performance-enhancing as we once thought. For the sake of the sport’s legitimacy, we cannot allow it become acceptable just because it is so pervasive.

Every time a fighter admits to being on TRT, it should be like hearing nails on a chalkboard. Its ubiquity does not justify our indifference.

Read more MMA news on BleacherReport.com

‘Rampage’ Jackson on Chael Sonnen: ‘He Sucks… I Can’t Stand That Boy’

Quinton “Rampage” Jackson is one of the most colorful characters in MMA history. Never one to shy away from saying how he feels, Jackson is a walking quote machine. Jackson has attacked the UFC  over the past few months, but took a moment to share…

Quinton “Rampage” Jackson is one of the most colorful characters in MMA history. Never one to shy away from saying how he feels, Jackson is a walking quote machine. Jackson has attacked the UFC  over the past few months, but took a moment to share his thoughts on Chael Sonnen and to a lesser extent, Forrest Griffin.

Griffin and Jackson are no stranger to each other as the two men were opposing coaches on The Ultimate Fighter and fought each other in the main event of UFC 86. Griffin took the title from Jackson via a controversial decision, so it’s no secret that Jackson isn’t a big fan of Griffin.

When speaking of his former adversary Griffin, Jackson believes Tito Ortiz won the fight and called Griffin a “crybaby” for leaving the cage.

“Tito won. Even Forrest knew he won; that’s why he ran out the cage like a little crybaby like he always do,” he said.

Jackson’s verbal barrage wasn’t as short and to the point when discussing former middleweight title challenger Sonnen.

“He sucks,” Jackson said.

The former light heavyweight champion also went on to suggest that Sonnen go “somewhere that people want to hear his interviews” and keep his word from the initial challenge Sonnen made to Silva. The original challenge as we all recall occurred following Sonnen’s UFC 136 victory during his post-fight interview with Joe Rogan in which Sonnen stated he would leave the UFC if he lost to Silva.

Sonnen not only lost to Silva but lost “horribly bad,” according to Jackson.

“Ramapge” ended the video with a firm notion of just how he really feels about Sonnen.

“I can’t stand that boy. F*** Chael.”

Read more MMA news on BleacherReport.com

Forrest Griffin and TRT: Why It Is Not OK for Media to Embrace the Trend

A lot has been written about Testosterone Replacement Therapy (TRT) in the past year, and this particular soap opera does not appear likely to run out of steam any time soon. If one were to go to Las Vegas and throw a rock in any direction, there&rsquo…

A lot has been written about Testosterone Replacement Therapy (TRT) in the past year, and this particular soap opera does not appear likely to run out of steam any time soon.

If one were to go to Las Vegas and throw a rock in any direction, there’s roughly a 50 percent chance that it would hit a fighter who is on TRT. OK, so that’s only a rough approximation. It’s probably more like 48 percent, or at least that’s the impression the fans are starting to get.

The media coverage of the issue could be characterised as the production of a moral panic. But as each new Therapeutic Use Exemption (TUE) for TRT comes to light, one realises that the number of column inches dedicated to the subject is not at all disproportionate.

The recent revelation that Forrest Griffin is now artificially boosting his testosterone levels has only added to the hysteria. This is a man who, at least from this writer’s perspective, does not take the sport of MMA as seriously as he once did. Despite his relative indifference, he has potentially tarnished his near spotless reputation by adding his name to the list of much-maligned fighters who have added testosterone to their diet.

A recent article on B/R defended Griffin’s decision to hop on the TRT bandwagon, arguing that fighters should be looking to extend their careers through any legal means available to them. That in and of itself is a respectable perspective, but the content of the argument rather missed the point.

The author makes the claim that, “If monitored properly… TRT can be used fairly.”

That is not strictly true. The issue with TRT has never been about the fighters’ levels on fight night—although the comically lax allowance of a 6:1 testosterone to epitestosterone ratio is worth addressing. The controversy has always surrounded the potential for fighters to boost their levels to Hulk-like proportions during training camps.

“But they aren’t competing against anyone when they train!” I hear many of you mewl.

Again, that is not the point. The problem is that boosting one’s testosterone levels allows one to train harder, for longer, and recover faster. In a nutshell, one fighter may be training like a regular human being, while the other is training like Superman.

If you are still having trouble grasping the issue, visualise the training montage from Rocky IV. Now think of Rocky as being like the Randy Coutures of the MMA world, and think of Ivan Drago as being like the Alistair Overeems of the business. That is what we are dealing with, and by any definition it constitutes an unfair competitive advantage.

Some may say that these fighters in their mid-30s are simply trying to restore parity, since younger athletes will have naturally higher testosterone levels. Here is my answer to that particularly naive objection. Once we develop a substance that, upon being injected, gives an athlete 10-15 years of MMA experience, then we can talk about fighters in the twilight of their career artificially turning back their biological clock.

That is not how competitive sport works. You do not get to step into a figurative time-machine and continue on indefinitely. More importantly, you do not get to choose a select few individuals who get access to that time-machine, while excluding others. It creates an uneven playing field, and that only hurts the sport in the long run.

Read more MMA news on BleacherReport.com