Insanity - Page 6

Basics of negotiation dictate that one starts with a high asking price. UFC middleweight champion Anderson Silva doesn’t need to be told that twice.

Fans want Silva to fight light heavyweight king Jon Jones, but neither he nor Jones really seem all that interested in tainting their legacies testing themselves against one another. Well, sorta, but not really. Nonetheless, UFC Prez Dana White has confidently declared on several occasions that he has the cashflow to change their minds completely.

“I think the Jon Jones fight is a big fight. I know my man says ‘No, no, no,’” White told reporters at the UFC 153 post-fight press conference, “but the amount of money that would be offered for that fight, I guarantee you I will make Anderson Silva say, ‘Yes, yes, yes.’”

“O RLY?”, Silva recently replied in an interview with Brazil’s Tatame Magazine, stating that his price tag to fight Jon Jones is a completely reasonable 50% of the UFC’s net worth. “Let’s ask him to see if [White] will give me 50% of the UFC,” Silva told Tatame.

White has publicly estimated that the UFC is worth $2.5 billion. Half of that is…well, we’re writers not mathematicians but we’re betting its a lot of money.

(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.

Beyond Wrestling is hosting a charity dinner/event this Sunday in Bridgewater, MA, to raise money for Charade’s medical expenses.

(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. Your move, Anderson.

(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.

(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.

(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. 

(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.

I’m a bit puzzled, Potato Nation.

You see, when I sat down at my computer after lunch, I was under the assumption that I was still participating in this thing we call Planet Earth. Little did I know that, while reheating the few scraps of ground beef that managed to survive Meatloaf Monday, I had apparently been thrust into some sort of magical UNICEF fantasy world in which everyone was twelve stories high and made of radiation and Cub Swanson can claim that he would kick Jose Aldo‘s ass 10 times out of 10.

Confused? Well just listen to what Cub told Sherdog’s “Beatdown” radio show and prepare to be even more bewildered:

I know that I could win that fight 10 out of 10 times if we did it again. It’s not even an issue to me anymore. I’d actually like my brother — would love for my brother — to fight him, who’s an up-and-comer, which I feel is more of a fair fight. I don’t really feel like [himself vs. Aldo] would be a fair fight at all.

Call me old fashioned, but when I make some contrived, ridiculous, he’s-got-to-be-joking statement, I’d like to think I did the math right when making said statement. This isn’t Vietnam, Cub, there are rules here. AND YOU CAN’T JUST START THE FIGHT COUNTER WHEREVER YOU WANT.

But since you’re a man of numbers, allow me to throw one at you. Eight. You lasted eight seconds with the dude the last time around. According to Michael Bisping, that is 14 minutes and 52 seconds less than a typical virgin lasts on prom night. And now you want your brother to be next in line at the slaughterhouse? It looks to me like somebody completely missed the point of The Hunger Games. 

We’re just hours away from UFC 152, where we will be treated to great fights between our sport’s top athletes. So, to get us in the mood for tonight’s action, let’s take a look at something completely different. Before establishing himself as the destroyer of Tater freakin’ Williams, top XARM heavyweight* Bond Laupua made his MMA debut against renowned crazy person Dan Quinn at Gladiator Challenge: First Strike in October 2009. And despite everything about pitting a future XARM athlete fighter competitor against a wild-eyed Stevia enthusiast seeming legitimate, the fight quickly turned into a bizarre freak show.

(“Tonight……you.”)

From a writer’s standpoint, there are a couple ways to approach a fight video as clownshit crazy as the one you are about to witness. The first is to provide a play-by-play breakdown of the action in a noble (but ultimately futile) attempt to try and make sense of the lunacy you just witnessed. The other method involves coming to the realization that your words are indeed ultimately futile and that the fight video should simply be digested as is.

It’s safe to say that when this happens before the fight even begins, you must follow the latter method.

Full video after the jump. Trust us, you *need* to see this.