(Jeff Lawson lives like he fights: Balls to the wall.)
Sorry for missing last week’s blog. I have been traveling a lot and haven’t had the chance to sit down and write much.
"Parce!" The name turns my stomach. Honestly, I can’t believe that I have to continuously see this wretch on TV and write about him. He certainly has received his fifteen minutes. And hopefully after this I don’t have to waste the oxygen in my lungs to speak about the cantankerous fellow, or the typing power in my fingers to peck away at my keyboard, giving him any more notoriety than he has already stolen from every other deserving member on the show.
"Parce" (that is "Pierce" said with a British accent) came from a day when all of the Americans were playing pool together except him. Yes, even Jason "I bang my head against the wall" Dent was kickin’ it with the team. I decided that even though there was much disdain toward the fellow, I would invite him to come down to join our dysfunctional group. I yelled to Pierce, who was upstairs at the time, to come down and play pool with us. I called and called, but was not answered. Then it hit me! I turned to the other guys and said, "Oh, he can’t understand me." Then I started yelling in a British accent (a poor one at that) "Parce! Come down here good chap. Parce!" Looking back at the guys I explained that he could only understand words if spoken like a Brit. So that’s how that whole thing got started.
The infection was pretty bad in his leg, there is no denying that. The thing with old man winters is, he was moping around when we first got into the house about some "broken blood vessels" in his foot. I thought he had actually broken a bone in his foot, or maybe aliens abducted him in the middle of the night and inserted grumpy old man symptoms and foot pain through his rectum, the way he was hobbling around on that peg. (Aliens do things like that. Anyone telling you otherwise is probably trying to sell you something.)
But, we were not in an ideal situation and things went wrong. I had brain surgery to correct an aneurysm in my head, got a concussion fighting the mini pony, and fought a week later. Do you think I wanted to jump in there that soon? Of course not. I’ve got one foot in the loony bin as it is and certainly wasn’t up to the task of fighting so soon, especially with the anxiety I felt about my head, but I did it. Did I look good? Not even close. However, to use an all too often cliche (like how I used a cliche to introduce my cliche?), "I would rather die on my feet than live on my knees". My stepping in and fighting is by no means any act of heroism, nor would I try and sell it as such, but there are some other performances coming up that are as close to it as it gets in my book. One of the fighters in the upcoming episodes goes through so much abuse and keeps fighting it’s unreal. To see one guy not even try to fight because of an infection and another fight through everything imaginable and keep getting up and coming back is so bizarre, especially, since the former would have probably won his fight against Faulkner.
That’s right! I said it. The mental anguish in stating that Brit wannabe Parce would have beaten Faulkner cripples me like getting gorged in the spine by an unhappy bull. Jason beat the most accomplished guy to get in to the house when he beat Steve Berger (Damn you Berger!!! Why couldn’t you have won so I wouldn’t have to waste time writing about Parce?!!!). And calling Faulkner the best Brit is a bit of a stretch. Self-proclaimed best Brit? Yes. Ken Shamrock has labeled himself "the world’s most dangerous man", but I don’t know anyone who’s buying that glass of steroid-flavored Kool-Aid. I know Faulkner was regarded as one of the better Brits on the show, but come on now, they were speaking about him as if he would be more appropriately dressed in a some sandals and a robe, had a long beard, and may or may not have been walking on water. Come to think of it, he prophecized his own messiah-cal fighting skills frequently, adding intermittent bits, of how he was beating up poor saps every third night as a bouncer working the clubs in the filfy streets of London.
Parce is a gullible fellow. He listened to Faulkner’s bedtime stories about how the "Great Dave Faulkner" conquered nations and slayed all comers with his bare hands, believing his fables to be in the real history books. Maybe some day when he grows up to be a big strong honorary member of the British Isles he will learn the difference between real and make believe.
We all wondered what happened behind the closed door with Dana, Parce, and Dan, but that will probably be shown a little more in the next episode. To see and hear Dana’s reaction to Parce was very satisfying to me as I am sure it is to the other Americans on the show.
Well, even though he bangs his head against the wall while looking at his watch immediately after counting down the days on his homemade calender, Dent wouldn’t back down from a fight like some others (well, singular: other). Dent probably would have fought the camera guy if allowed. Hell, he would have fought one of the female producers on the show if given the chance. That man just wanted to fight! Dent didn’t look great winning against Jeff, but I really think it’s just nerves. He has lost twice in the UFC before and doesn’t want to mess up his last shot. Dent could have finished Lawson much sooner, but just like he did against Junie Jr., he hesitated.
I have said that Jason is much better than he shows in his fights before and I am sticking with it. I think if he were just a little more reckless he could be a much better fighter. He is very durable and can put on a good show when someone else pushes the action. You will see a great fight with him and another semi-finalist. Dent does need to get over the mental shut-down thing he does though. If he was being coached during practice and couldn’t immediately do what was asked of him he would just stop everything. Mid grappling session he would lay flat, look at the coach and let his partner do whatever they wanted, even if that meant taking blows to the face. Like a stubborn dog refusing to go outside and take a beating to prove a point, Dent would prove a point: "He is uncoachable". When Dan verbalised that conclusion I almost spit out my drink. He’s as dry as the desert, but he has some great one liners if you can catch on to his humor.
I would like to add a little about Richie as I didn’t get a chance to write my blog for last week’s show.
Richie has Impetigo, a dirty little bacterial infection that infiltrates the skin at the most inopportune times. Unsightly to say the least. There’s nothing good that comes from Impetigo. Hell, I don’t think anything good even rhymes with the word. The bad thing about the oozy sapping sores for him is that 1) he is on national television with a bit of funk on his face, and 2) he is relegated to the non-contact portion of Team USA training. The bad thing about the sores for the rest of us, is that we had to live in fear of the creepy infection crawling on to us. Our fears came true. I think everyone but Demarques and Dent left that house with diseases they shouldn’t be subjected to even after a weekend with a kilo of illegal drugs and a Thai brothel.
Back to the Red Rocket. Richie got his funk early (you can tell when the interviews are early in filming by whether Richie resembles Sean White or a Ginger Beatle with a bowl cut…the former is earlier in the show) and could barely train. He tried to get as much training in as possible, but his options were rather limited. Running, riding the Aerodyne bike and bag work was all he could do. His timing was off and couldn’t really get his hands landing. He was on the constant defense from Ross who fought a great fight. Richie has been only training MMA for a very short period of time and has already done very well for himself. The Angry Tomato will have a long and fruitful career if he so decides to.