(Don’t try this at home, kids. / Props: Peezy P via Deadspin)
Among pro-wrestling moves, aerial techniques are about as high-risk/high-reward as they come. Brock Lesnar nearly ended his career fucking up a shooting-star press at Wrestlemania XIX, and at a Beyond Wrestling show in Rhode Island on September 30th, Atlanta-based wrestler Charade botched one even worse, under-rotating during a moonsault and landing directly on the top of his head. The horrific impact fractured Charade’s skull, and immediately silenced the meager crowd. But Charade — working off of pure muscle memory — remained conscious and actually kicked out his opponent’s first attempt at a pin before letting the match come to a merciful conclusion.
(Don’t try this at home, kids. / Props: Peezy P via Deadspin)
Among pro-wrestling moves, aerial techniques are about as high-risk/high-reward as they come. Brock Lesnar nearly ended his career fucking up a shooting-star press at Wrestlemania XIX, and at a Beyond Wrestling show in Rhode Island on September 30th, Atlanta-based wrestler Charade botched one even worse, under-rotating during a moonsault and landing directly on the top of his head. The horrific impact fractured Charade’s skull, and immediately silenced the meager crowd. But Charade — working off of pure muscle memory — remained conscious and actually kicked out his opponent’s first attempt at a pin before letting the match come to a merciful conclusion.
Confidence is like nature’s bath salts. Using a combination of trickery, implied reasoning, and outright tomfoolery, confidence basically transports us back to the ignorant serenity of youth. It surpasses logic, the physical limitations of the human body, and the laws of nature to convince its host that anything is achievable through the pure power of will. And just like bath salts, confidence can have devastating effects on the body it occupies. Just ask Melvin Guillard. Or Tom Brady. Or Hitler. I’m not saying that Tom Brady is Hitler reincarnated, I’m just saying.
So rather than take pot shots at the wellspring of confidence you will meet in the video above, I would rather like to commend him for it, as misplaced as it may have been. Because I can assure you that none of us — not one — has ever been as confident in our ourselves as this man, if even for the briefest second. Nick Diaz may have perfected the “Come at me, bro” pose in the octagon, but the motherfucker was never crazy enough to let one of his opponents tee off on him until he crumbled to the ground in a heap. This gentleman was so confident in his abilities that he knew he could get knocked the fuck out and still beat his opponent. Sure, the second half of his gameplan kind of fell apart, but still, respect. You’re move, Anderson.
(Props to Rodeo and bOredjOrd for the tip.)
Confidence is like nature’s bath salts. Using a combination of trickery, implied reasoning, and outright tomfoolery, confidence basically transports us back to the ignorant serenity of youth. It surpasses logic, the physical limitations of the human body, and the laws of nature to convince its host that anything is achievable through the pure power of will. And just like bath salts, confidence can have devastating effects on the body it occupies. Just ask Melvin Guillard. Or Tom Brady. Or Hitler. I’m not saying that Tom Brady is Hitler reincarnated, I’m just saying.
So rather than take pot shots at the wellspring of confidence you will meet in the video above, I would rather like to commend him for it, as misplaced as it may have been. Because I can assure you that none of us — not one — has ever been as confident in our ourselves as this man, if even for the briefest second. Nick Diaz may have perfected the “Come at me, bro” pose in the octagon, but the motherfucker was never crazy enough to let one of his opponents tee off on him until he crumbled to the ground in a heap. This gentleman was so confident in his abilities that he knew he could get knocked the fuck out and still beat his opponent. Sure, the second half of his gameplan kind of fell apart, but still, respect. You’re move, Anderson.
But perhaps even more impressive than our fallen comrade’s confidence is the entrance of the shirtless superhero at the 45 second mark, who descends from the rafters just moments shy of stopping the hilarious atrocity that has been committed. It was a noble effort, but Spiderman would’ve made it on time, bro.
(Can professional Droog-style gang-fighting be far behind?)
For almost as long as MMA has existed, there have been scheming fight promoters trying to one-up normal cage-fighting with increasingly bizarre variations. We’ve seen three-man MMA, better known as “two guys beating the shit out of another guy.” We’ve seen tag-team MMA, which makes even less sense from a logistical perspective. We’ve seen Montana-style Motocross MMA, and the abomination known as XARM, and we’ve gleefully mocked their stupidity. If two men fighting each other isn’t exciting enough for you, you probably just need better cocaine.
The latest entry in this dignified line of MMA offshoots is two-on-two MMA, which will be part of the next Desert Rage Full Contact Fighting show, October 20th at the Paradise Casino in Yuma, Arizona. As fighter-turned-promoter Chance Farrar explained to MMAJunkie, “We started trying it in the gym, and it’s been successful. It’s nothing short of controlled chaos, but exciting. You can’t predict what’s going to happen…This fight does not last. That’s why I’m bringing it to Desert Rage. I think the fans want to see it.”
Here’s how it works: Weight classes are determined by a team’s collective weight. (Lightweight is 350 pounds and below; middleweight is 425 pounds and below; and heavyweight is 500 pounds and below.) Rounds will be five minutes each, with a one-minute rest period between each round, but there will be no limit to how many rounds a fight can go. No elbows or knees will be allowed.
Two referees will do their best to control the action. When a fighter is stopped by knockout, submission, or referee stoppage, a one-minute rest is called to give officials time to remove the eliminated fighter, before the fight is re-started. If an eliminated fighter is unable to leave the cage within the one-minute period, the other team wins by forfeit. The match ends when one side loses both fighters.
(Can professional Droog-style gang-fighting be far behind?)
For almost as long as MMA has existed, there have been scheming fight promoters trying to one-up normal cage-fighting with increasingly bizarre variations. We’ve seen three-man MMA, better known as “two guys beating the shit out of another guy.” We’ve seen tag-team MMA, which makes even less sense from a logistical perspective. We’ve seen Montana-style Motocross MMA, and the abomination known as XARM, and we’ve gleefully mocked their stupidity. If two men fighting each other isn’t exciting enough for you, you probably just need better cocaine.
The latest entry in this dignified line of MMA offshoots is two-on-two MMA, which will be part of the next Desert Rage Full Contact Fighting show, October 20th at the Paradise Casino in Yuma, Arizona. As fighter-turned-promoter Chance Farrar explained to MMAJunkie, “We started trying it in the gym, and it’s been successful. It’s nothing short of controlled chaos, but exciting. You can’t predict what’s going to happen…This fight does not last. That’s why I’m bringing it to Desert Rage. I think the fans want to see it.”
Here’s how it works: Weight classes are determined by a team’s collective weight. (Lightweight is 350 pounds and below; middleweight is 425 pounds and below; and heavyweight is 500 pounds and below.) Rounds will be five minutes each, with a one-minute rest period between each round, but there will be no limit to how many rounds a fight can go. No elbows or knees will be allowed.
Two referees will do their best to control the action. When a fighter is stopped by knockout, submission, or referee stoppage, a one-minute rest is called to give officials time to remove the eliminated fighter, before the fight is re-started. If an eliminated fighter is unable to leave the cage within the one-minute period, the other team wins by forfeit. The match ends when one side loses both fighters.
Here’s Farrar defending his creation: “People are trying to pawn it off as some kind of gang fight. That’s not the case. The people fighting at this time are … the lower level guys that are crazy enough to attempt it. I’m a huge MMA fan and the last thing I want to do is bring anything less than pride to this sport. But I do believe that there’s a lot of merit, and it’s definitely not a tag-team. People want to paint it as a sideshow. That’s definitely not the case. This is a serious fight, and there’s a lot of team aspects that are added that are exciting.”
Does two-on-two MMA sound crazy? Sure. But it reflects reality in a way that those other MMA variations don’t. This is basically a controlled version of you and your buddy getting into it with a couple of knuckleheads at a bar. There are no weird tag-in rules. There’s no every-man-for-himself Battle Royale element. There are no motorcycles flying above your head. It’s a normal fight. The only difference is, you have a wingman by your side, which will compel the fighters to cooperate, or occasionally come to the defense of their teammate.
So yes, you MMA purists will have to forgive me, but I want to see this thing as soon as it hits YouTube. In fact, the only hypothetical MMA variation I want to see more is 3-on-3 MMA held under King of Fighters ’94 rules. Think about it. You have a Blackzilians team composed of Rashad Evans, Tyrone Spong, and Michael Johnson, facing a Blacktalians team composed of Chris Weidman, Constantinos Philippou, and a 215-pound Matt Serra. The leadoff men from each team fight one-on-one until somebody is KO’d or submitted, and then that defeated fighter is immediately replaced by the next person in line on his team. The fight continues until all three members of a team are eliminated. Why the hell not, right? The world has already gone insane…
(Let this be a lesson to all you up-and-coming fighters out there: Wearing a fake belt and talking trash on Twitter will do more for your career than legitimate wins ever will.)
What the fucking fuck, you guys.
Look, we know that we’ve been all over The Ultimate Fighter’s ass lately, citing such complaints as their tired formula, lackluster fighters/fights, and steadily declining viewership. We also remember that when Chael Sonnen stepped in to face Jon Jones on a week’s notice, we were all for it. But when Dana White announced to the LA Times some minutes ago that Chael Sonnen and Jon Jones had been booked as opposing coaches for the next season of The Ultimate Fighter, with a title fight set for April 27th, our reaction was that of horror and revulsion.
This is madness, pure and simple. Let’s look past the fact that Chael Sonnen has not fought at light heavyweight since his UFC debut way back at UFC 55, or the fact that he was supposed to fight Forrest Griffin at UFC 155, or that he is just coming off a loss to Anderson Silva, or that there is at least one legitimate contender in line before him, or that Dana White just got through telling us that the winner of Shogun/Gustafsson would likely receive the next title shot. Actually, we can’t look past any of that. In no alternate universe does this matchup make sense.
(Let this be a lesson to all you up-and-coming fighters out there: Wearing a fake belt and talking trash on Twitter will do more for your career than legitimate wins ever will.)
What the fucking fuck, you guys.
Look, we know that we’ve been all over The Ultimate Fighter’s ass lately, citing such complaints as their tired formula, lackluster fighters/fights, and steadily declining viewership. We also remember that when Chael Sonnen stepped in to face Jon Jones on a week’s notice, we were all for it. But when Dana White announced to the LA Times some minutes ago that Chael Sonnen and Jon Jones had been booked as opposing coaches for the next season of The Ultimate Fighter, with a title fight set for April 27th, our reaction was that of horror and revulsion.
This is madness, pure and simple. Let’s look past the fact that Chael Sonnen has not fought at light heavyweight since his UFC debut way back at UFC 55, or the fact that he was supposed to fight Forrest Griffin at UFC 155, or that he is just coming off a loss to Anderson Silva, or that there is at least one legitimate contender in line before him, or that Dana White just got through telling us that the winner of Shogun/Gustafsson would likely receive the next title shot. Actually, we can’t look past any of that. In no alternate universe does this matchup make sense.
In an effort to shut up us dumb media types and help boost ratings for a show that has long since passed its prime, Dana White and the UFC have apparently agreed to sacrifice the legitimacy of the light heavyweight title/division. Believe me when I say that I loathe making this comparison, but we are witnessing some WWE-type bullshit right here. Sonnen talks some trash to Jones on Twitter and all of a sudden he’s a contender? Without even winning a fight in the division? This is exactly what we were worried about. Stepping up on short notice is one thing, but putting the light heavyweight division on hold for yet another squash match simply because it will net the promotion a greater financial gain is, simply put, a shameful decision on the UFC’s part.
Will this break the ratings slide that TUF has been facing as of late? Undoubtedly. Will Sonnen make for one of the greatest TUF coaches of all time? You bet your bottom dollar he will. Is this a completely transparent and shallow move by the UFC? Abso-fucking-lutely. It really puts into perspective what motivates The Baldfather these days.
(Trust us, when this moment arrives you will be doing anything but laughing.)
When Jason “Mayhem” Miller was fired from the UFC, he was basically left with two career paths to follow. He could follow the path of guys like Joey Beltran or — to a lesser degree — Anthony Johnson, which is to say, recognizing his mistakes/flaws and trying to earn his way back into the promotion through hard work, a couple decent wins, and in his case, probably some begging. Or, he could take a page out of someone like Rampage Jackson’s book, which consists of complaining a lot, going on nonsensical Twitter rants, and acting like a delusional pyschopath at every possible turn.
It saddens us to inform you that Miller has apparently chosen the path of Charlie Sheen.
There are simply no words that aptly describe Miller’s recent appearance on The MMA Hour, but I’ll try to use a few: batshit, kerfuffle, delirium, wantwit, rudesby. Like sharting in a hot tub while on a blind date.
In a terribly misguided attempt to plug his upcoming film, Here Comes the Boom, Miller appeared on the radio show as his character from the movie, Lucky Patrick. But what began as a simple ruse quickly devolved into one of the most bizarre and outright sad things we have witnessed in the continually depressing downfall of “Mayhem” Miller. He referred to “Arius Heelwani” as a “Jew,” refused to break character or answer questions as to his current mental state (or perhaps answered them all, really), and vehemently stormed off the set 45 minutes short of its expected run time. As Helwani noted, Miller was clearly attempting to channel Andy Kaufman, but unfortunately came off looking a lot more like Crispin Glover.
Video after the jump.
(Trust us, when this moment arrives you will be doing anything but laughing.)
When Jason “Mayhem” Miller was fired from the UFC, he was basically left with two career paths to follow. He could follow the path of guys like Joey Beltran or — to a lesser degree — Anthony Johnson, which is to say, recognizing his mistakes/flaws and trying to earn his way back into the promotion through hard work, a couple decent wins, and in his case, probably some begging. Or, he could take a page out of someone like Rampage Jackson’s book, which consists of complaining a lot, going on nonsensical Twitter rants, and acting like a delusional pyschopath at every possible turn.
It saddens us to inform you that Miller has apparently chosen the path of Charlie Sheen.
There are simply no words that aptly describe Miller’s recent appearance on The MMA Hour, but I’ll try to use a few: batshit, kerfuffle, delirium, wantwit, rudesby. Like sharting in a hot tub while on a blind date.
In a terribly misguided attempt to plug his upcoming film, Here Comes the Boom, Miller appeared on the radio show as his character from the movie, Lucky Patrick. But what began as a simple ruse quickly devolved into one of the most bizarre and outright sad things we have witnessed in the continually depressing downfall of “Mayhem” Miller. He referred to “Arius Heelwani” as a “Jew,” refused to break character or answer questions as to his current mental state (or perhaps answered them all, really), and vehemently stormed off the set 45 minutes short of its expected run time. As Helwani noted, Miller was clearly attempting to channel Andy Kaufman, but unfortunately came off looking a lot more like Crispin Glover.
Ariel was willing to play along with Miller’s shtick at first, but when it began to wear thin roughly two minutes in, Helwani tried to steer the conversation in a somewhat comprehensible direction. It is at this point that Mayhem decided to go full retard. I should not have to warn you about why one should never go full retard.
Helwani’s reaction quickly changed from jovial to concerned as he continued to try and “talk to Mayhem.” Suddenly, it’s as if we are watching a doctor try and reach the traumatic center of a schizophrenic child, and the gravity of Mayhem’s plight begins to settle in. After a few minutes of pointless back-and-forth, Miller became enraged that Helwani kept referring to him as “Mayhem” and stormed off the set amidst a cloud of cuss words and childish banter.
Ariel took a few minutes to collect himself and gave the following response:
Now, we understand that this write-up is only keeping Miller’s name on all of our tongues like he set out to do, but we are legitimately concerned for Mayhem’s well-being at this point. The fact that he wouldn’t even talk straight with Ariel when the segment was over should be the only indication we need as to the direction he is heading. We don’t know about you, but while watching the fourteenth season of The Ultimate Fighter, we thought Mayhem came across as a generally likable and intelligent guy. The fact that he’s let himself disintegrate into this is utterly tragic, and we sincerely hope that it doesn’t end in Miller harming himself or those around him.
I’m not normally one to offer inspirational words of advice, but I would recommend Miller take some time and reflect upon those penned by Marilyn vos Savant:
Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent.
(When Bruno Carvalho told Marius Zaromskis about his secret foot fetish as a child, he never expected that it would be used against him some twenty years later.)
When you’ve followed MMA for as long as we have, you can’t help but often feel as if you’ve seen it all in terms of striking techniques in the ring. Sure, every now again some dude will nearly cartwheel kick some other dude’s face off, or springboard off the cage and almost kick some dude’s face off, but for the most part, it’s your standard display of roundhouse kicks, knees, and punches that do most of the damage come fight night (not that we’re complaining).
Until you come upon the somersault kick, that is, as demonstrated by Marius Zaromskis in the above video. You see, the somersault kick is a move so dangerous, so batshit insane, that you’d have to be high on bath salts to even consider attempting to pull it off. Hence why it was first popularized by Harold Howard and has been responsible for over 453 deaths worldwide since 1998.
So you’ll forgive us for acting a bit hysterical while delivering this news, but it appears as if someone out there was not only crazy enough to attempt this maneuver in competition on two separate occasions over the course of a month, but successfully landed the kick both times, knocking out both of his opponents in the process.
Those knockouts are after the jump.
(When Bruno Carvalho told Marius Zaromskis about his secret foot fetish as a child, he never expected that it would be used against him some twenty years later.)
When you’ve followed MMA for as long as we have, you can’t help but often feel as if you’ve seen it all in terms of striking techniques in the ring. Sure, every now again some dude will nearly cartwheel kick some other dude’s face off, or springboard off the cage and almost kick some dude’s face off, but for the most part, it’s your standard display of roundhouse kicks, knees, and punches that do most of the damage come fight night (not that we’re complaining).
Until you come upon the somersault kick, that is, as demonstrated by Marius Zaromskis in the above video. You see, the somersault kick is a move so dangerous, so batshit insane, that you’d have to be high on bath salts to even consider attempting to pull it off. Hence why it was first popularized by Harold Howard and has been responsible for over 453 deaths worldwide since 1998.
So you’ll forgive us for acting a bit hysterical while delivering this news, but it appears as if someone out there was not only crazy enough to attempt this maneuver in competition on two separate occasions over the course of a month, but successfully landed the kick both times, knocking out both of his opponents in the process.
See for yourself.
His name is Michael Balakirev. He’s Russian, obviously, because who else in their right mind would challenge death to a chess match twice?
This kick is the more gentle of the two — meaning it didn’t completely obliterate the victim’s face like Gallagher does a watermelon — and occurred at a Russian kickboxing/MMA event at the end of September. As you can see, although it is not a clean knockout, it still makes the victim go fetal before Balakirev can even land a follow up shot. It’s truly awe-inspiring, especially when you consider that just one month earlier, this 18 year old assassin pulled off an even better one…
Although you were likely caught up in the pure genius of the move (and trying to calm your half chub), rewind the video to the six second mark and pause it. Here you will see that not only did this kid attempt what we will now call “The Invincible Somersault Kick of Total Annihilation”, he was actually competent enough to grab his opponents ankle mid flip to ensure that he couldn’t back out of harm’s way. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. What was less than brilliant, however, was the ref’s insistence that the unconscious fighter walk it off before he actually could stand without assistance. Then again, the ref could have woke him up and told him to get ready for round 2.
