(They say a picture is worth a thousand words, yet the only one that comes to mind when looking at this one is ZOMGBARFLOLLERCOPTER. Via Getty Images.) 

Mixed martial arts is a cruel mistress, Potato Nation, and we’re not just talking about Fallon Fox. As the sport’s popularity has increased over the past decade, its participants have been forced to take on the added pressure of not only supporting their families with the oft paltry salaries they take home every few months (if they’re lucky), but winning fights and winning them impressively for the sake of their ever-increasing fanbases, who will turn on them at the drop of the hat should they fail to meet expectations. At the risk of sounding too cliche, MMA is a game that truly offers the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. It’s also a sport that Tim Sylvia once declared 90% half mental.

And to some degree, that semi-retarded Ogre was right; MMA is a sport that, aside from pushing one to their limit and often past it physically, can do ten times as much damage to a person mentally. A string of losses — a single, particularly devastating loss even — can leave a fighter questioning whether they ever truly belonged in the first place, or whether their prime has simply passed them by. And it just happens so damn fast; in the span of roughly a year, Chuck Liddell went from the unstoppable light heavyweight kingpin to a washed up brawler who was getting punch-drunk into an early grave. At least according to the “experts” who regularly peruse the UG and Sherdog forums, CagePotato comments sections, and Wikipedia.

No, it’s not every day that we see a Randy Couture or a Georges St. Pierre who can recover from a brutal loss or string of losses and use them as motivation to refocus or completely resurrect their career. And in light of Wanderlei Silva and Mark Hunt’s recent triumphs, we go to thinking: Who Had the Most Unexpected Career Turnaround of Them All? 

That’s right, Taters. The Roundtable is back.

(A good meal well prepared, and the company of your loving family — that’s what it’s all about, guys.)

Happy Thanksgiving, Potato Nation, and welcome to a short and sweet Turkey Day edition of the CagePotato Roundtable. Today we’re discussing things we’re thankful for in the world of MMA, so if you can spare a moment from shoving cranberry sauce down your filthy gullet, give it a look and tell us what *you’re* thankful for in the comments section…

Seth Falvo

There’s an argument to be made that the best quarterbacks in the history of the NFL have always been the most boring people on the planet. Throughout the league’s history, the most fascinating quarterbacks on the field have been about half as interesting as the instruction manual that came with your toaster off of it. Johnny Unitas was stoic enough to make Fedor look expressive in comparison, Joe Montana somehow didn’t have enough charisma to last on NBC, Brett Favre made people feel themselves get dumber whenever he opened his mouth, and Drew Brees wears Affliction shirts (seriously). While it’s not exactly a fact that having any type of personality will ruin your chances of becoming a famous NFL quarterback, I don’t see too many people wearing Christian Ponder or Ryan Fitzpatrick jerseys.

So why am I talking about football? For one, it just wouldn’t be Thanksgiving unless some oafish mouth-breather that no one in your family actually likes didn’t talk about football during your holiday dinner and/or roundtable discussion. But aside from that, it’s because, in many ways, this has carried over to MMA as well. As fans, it’s fun to cheer for an interesting fighter — especially when he’s actually good — but while the personalities of our fighters have led to the rapid growth and development of our sport, they have also brought on some downright ugly consequences as well.  You don’t need to be the most interesting guy in the room to be the best athlete in your sport, and as fans, we should be far more thankful for the boring guys who are great at fighting than we currently are.

Case in point, Quinton “Rampage” Jackson has outstayed his welcome in the UFC by about three years, putting on boring fights and complaining about the exceptional treatment he’s received as if he’s washing dishes at a Denny’s somewhere. Yet Rampage is still one of our sport’s most popular fighters — especially among mainstream media outlets — because of his reputation as a funnyman and an entertainer, despite being neither funny nor entertaining. Likewise, Dan Hardy has gone 2-4 in his last six, with Amir Sadollah being his most notable victory since 2009, yet his colorful hair and marketable image have kept him on ESPN as recently as last week.

(I was a big fan of James Thompson until he TKO’d my beloved Giant Silva. You broke my heart, James. You broke my heart. / Photo via Sherdog.)

We’d like to send out a CagePotato Fist-Bump to reader Joseph Cisneros, who submitted today’s topic on this Facebook thread: “Fighters that u hated, that now u are a fan of.” It’s a good question (despite its grammatical quirks), and so is the reverse of it — fighters who you were a fan of, but can’t stand anymore. We figured, why not cover both sides of the coin?

Joining us for this installment of the CagePotato Roundtable is a very special guest, and former Roundtable subject: veteran MMA heavyweight James “The Colossus” Thompson. It’s been a fruitful year for Thompson, who has scored wins over Bob Sapp and Bobby Lashley under the Super Fight League banner, and launched his own MMA media empire with a fantastic blog (ColossalConcerns.com) and a highly entertaining MMA podcast, which you should subscribe to on iTunes right here. Follow the Colossus on Twitter @JColossus, and quiet down children, because the man is about to speak…

James Thompson

When I was told the subject for this round table, I thought I’d have to pass on it, simply because on first reflection I couldn’t think of any fighters that I was a fan of, but then went off completely, or vice versa. But then I did something I try, as often as possible, not to do…I used my brain. After this painful but mercifully brief process was over, I remembered a couple of fighters hidden deep in my grey matter that did fit this description. So here’s what I dug up.

(Seriously? Not even *one* vote for Jason Guida?)

The 16th season of The Ultimate Fighter kicks off tonight on FX, and while we wouldn’t exactly say we’re looking forward to it, the premiere of a new season always puts us in a reflective mood. In this week’s installment of the CagePotato Roundtable, we’ll be paying tribute to our favorite cast-members in TUF history, and joining us today is a very, very special guest — Luke O’Brien, an award-winning journalist whose work has appeared in Rolling Stone, The New York Times, The Atlantic, Fortune, and many other outlets that are much more respectable than the one you’re reading right now. (I first discovered Luke through his excellent MMA reporting for Deadspin.)

Shoot us your own favorite TUF guys in the comments section, and if you have a topic for a future Roundtable column, e-mail us at tips@cagepotato.com

Luke O’Brien

Has there been a more unlikely TUF champion than Amir Sadollah? In 2008, the Persian-Irish surgical technologist came out of nowhere — or in his case, Richmond — to win the seventh season of the show by beating All-American wrestler C.B. Dollaway. Sadollah armbarred Dollaway not once, but twice. Before that, he triangled Matt Brown, who oozed tough. And before that, he TKOd Gerald Harris, who certainly looked tough. At the time, Sadollah had never had a pro fight. Not one. I liked him immediately. Not because he was an upstart, a little doughy around the middle and a bit of a lumberer. There were purer reasons that drew me to a fighter who walks out to Iranian techno music.

For one, he had a mullet. This wasn’t the unaware bumpkin coiffure found in many stretches of this country. Rather, it was a curated flange of keratin that complemented the smirk often playing on Sadollah’s face. It was a mullet that, like its owner, didn’t take itself too seriously. A mullet that grasped irony. And irony has always been in short supply on TUF. The premise of the show — quarantine 16 fighters for a month in a house stocked with unlimited amounts of booze and see what happens — is absurd, although I guess you could say the same about all reality television. As much as I enjoy TUF, the only way I can fully appreciate it is at a sardonic remove. Sadollah allowed me to do that.

(God damn it, Tim. We will never forgive you for this.)

We envisioned this week’s CagePotato Roundtable as a friendly take-down of everything from “Hello Japan!” to Tito Ortiz’s brief and terrifying career as a post-fight interviewer. But then a funny thing happened — the UFC canceled their first event of the Zuffa era due to a very unexpected decision by one of their champions, and the world exploded. The Jon Jones/UFC 151 fallout and much more will be covered in today’s column, so grab a beverage and get comfortable. And as always, if you have a topic idea for a future Roundtable, please send it to tips@cagepotato.com.

Seth Falvo

“World Combat League, bro. It already exists.”

In the perfect MMA Universe I envision whenever I eat enough Lotus Leaf, these words are uttered directly to MMA’s Vince Russo, Bob Meyrowitz, while he’s looking for investors for the mind-numbingly ridiculous YAMMA Pit Fighting. Upon hearing them, Bob decides to become a jaded boxing promoter, World Combat League is still the only promotion that uses a bowl as the fight surface and we are all spared the most stupid, embarrassing, gimmicky event since Heroes of Wrestling. Also in this universe: The Super Hulk division is recognized by the UFC as a real weight class, Paulo Filho never touches the GHB, Fedor knocks out Brock Lesnar and then retires as a UFC Heavyweight Champion and Chael Sonnen never attempts that freaking backfist. Who says us nerds don’t know how to party?

Of course, reality is a cruel mistress, and YAMMA Pit Fighting ended up happening despite the best efforts of an injury curse. Much like the aforementioned Heroes of Wrestling, Meyrowitz attempted to cash in on our love of nostalgia by booking a bunch of aging has-beens, never-weres, nobodies and ne’er-do-wells to compete in the promotion’s inaugural event. Never mind that half of the roster hasn’t been relevant in a decade (using “relevant” as loosely as possible in some cases), or that one of the fighters was best known for getting knocked out by a leg kick, or that another fighter was best known to casual fans for his stint on Celebrity Rehab; they’re going to brawl, you guys! Add on one of Brock Lesnar’s Team Deathclutch punching bags, the cheapest journeyman-for-hire you can find, an obese former Toughman Contest champion and some obscure Russians who dabble at sambo — because, you know, Fedor — and we’ll have all the tools for an exciting bankruptcy case after no one watches this. Tack on the incredibly cheesy, stuck-in-the-mid-90s “On the streets it’s against the law — in the pit it is the law” tagline, and laissez les bons temps rouler.

(If you were a guest on that gay Indian party bus and want to share your story, please e-mail tips@cagepotato.com.)

Thanks to everyone who submitted stories for today’s crowd-sourced edition of the CagePotato Roundtable. We’ve selected 12 tales from the pile — ranging from drama to comedy to horror — and we’ll begin with a story that comes to us from an actual pro fighter, involving one of MMA’s greatest out-of-the-cage rivalries…

Sal Woods
A few years ago I fought on the Strikeforce: Lawler vs. Shields card. While at weigh-ins I was obviously star-struck from being at Al Hrabosky’s with a room full of legends and badasses. The only guy I had the balls to say what’s up to was Nick Diaz. He was completely cool and super polite, he said hi and introduced himself to the entire table (my cornermen, shaking each one’s hand). We were just shooting the shit about how it was my first time on a big card and that I was fighting T-Wood. I was thinking this dude is nothing like the interviews I have watched.

All of a sudden he looks over and sees Joe Riggs and almost flips shit, starts telling his corner guys “there’s that little bitch right there!” Looks over a crowd of people and called Riggs a punk bitch. Then Gil and someone else walked him away/cooled him down. Proved that if Nick doesn’t like you and fights you he may fight you again in the hospital and almost again at completely different fight’s weigh-in!

Noah “Jewjifshoe” Ferreira

You guys all remember Dan Barrera from TUF 6, right? Well I met him during a math class in the Fall of 2011 and it was one of the weirdest experiences I’ve ever had.

(Photographer unknown. Level of badassery incalculable.)

For this installment of the CagePotato Roundtable, we invited a few of our photographer buddies over to discuss our all-time favorite MMA photos. Judging by our selections, shots of agony and defeat have a special attraction to them. I think it’s because they allow us to get close to an incredibly intense, transcendent moment, without having to experience the pain of it. And isn’t that why we love MMA in the first place? Our special guests for today are…

- Lee Whitehead, author of Blunt Force Trauma & The Mammoth Book of Mixed Martial Arts. You can see more of his work at www.leewhitehead.com, on Instagram, and on Twitter @leewhiteheadmma.

- Jon Sluder, who shot Bellator 34 for us back in October 2010. Check out his recent highlights at Sluder.net.

- Jason Wright, who shot UFC 119 for us back in September 2010; if you follow us on Facebook, you recently saw one of his highlights from that night. You can see more of J-Dog’s work at jasonwrightphotography.com.

Disclaimer: There’s a short list of MMA photographers who have asked us to stop posting their work on this site due to copyright issues, and a couple of contributors to this week’s column happened to select photos taken by those photographers. We’ve used stand-ins in those cases, with links to the actual photos. Also, we don’t know why BJ Penn is so heavily represented in this column. The guy always seems to be in the right place at the right time.

Lee Whitehead

(Click image for larger version.)

I have many favorite photos from all the years shooting MMA but this one has to rank amongst the very top purely because of all the flack and accusations of photoshop manipulation with the blood spurt; professionals can spot a ringer, and this ain’t one. The disappointing thing is that all negative comments detract from our main strength as MMA photographers — to understand the sport, spot smaller nuances, read the timing, and capture a key defining moment in a fight. To me, this brief slice of time from UFC 80 serves as the perfect reminder of how dominant BJ Penn was in his prime.

(Little known fact: The original version of America the Beautiful contained a fifth verse about Don Frye’s shorts.)

In honor of our country’s 236th birthday, we’ve got a special CagePotato Roundtable discussion for you guys: Who was the greatest American MMA fighter of all time? Because let’s face it, America is exceptional, and we produce the best goddamned fighters in the world. SORRY LIBERAL MEDIA, I SAID IT. Enjoy, and if you have an idea for a future Roundtable topic, please send it to tips@cagepotato.com. And hey, be careful with those bottle rockets, okay?

Ben Goldstein
 

What do MMA legends Chuck Liddell, Matt Hughes, Tito Ortiz, Kazushi Sakuraba, Wanderlei Silva, Randy Couture, and Mark Coleman have in common? They all started their careers within 11 months of Dan Henderson‘s professional debut in June 1997. And where are those guys now? Retired, pretty much retired, retiring this weekend, completely washed up, close to retirement, retired, and retired unless Herschel Walker picks up the phone. Meanwhile, Hendo is preparing for his next title fight in September. Does the TRT help? Sure, though I don’t think you can credit Henderson’s heart, balls, and H-bomb power to a little hormonal help. (You also have to give some props to the Jam Gym.)

I’d stack Dan’s accomplishments up against any other fighter in this roundtable discussion — the unprecedented two-division title reign in PRIDE, the five single-night tournament sweeps, the stunning knockouts of Wanderlei Silva, Michael Bisping, and Fedor Emelianenko — but what makes him America’s MMA G.O.A.T. is his incredible longevity. Dan Henderson has been a top-ten fighter longer than anybody else in the history of the sport. I can only think of two other MMA fighters who started their careers 15 years ago who are still considered viable stars, and neither of them are American: Vitor Belfort, whose career was plagued by long stretches of injury and inconsistency, and Anderson Silva, who’s a freakish exception to any rule.

(Whatever happened to Harold Howard anyway? The man was athletic and explosive.)

A few weeks ago, we ran down the crappiest fighters to ever be crowned “champion.” In this week’s installment of the CagePotato Roundtable, we’re sort of doing the opposite of that — discussing fighters who had all the talent in the world (and actually were champions in some cases), but screwed themselves out of glory thanks to their own poor decisions. So who was the biggest waste of potential in MMA history? Who made chicken shit out of chicken salad? Read on and we’ll tell you. As usual, if you have a topic suggestion for the Roundtable, please send it to tips@cagepotato.com.

Seth Falvo — as dictated from a hospital bed. Long story.

“Personal Demons.” It’s arguably the most annoying phrase in sports journalism. The phrase is nothing more than a cop-out; what we use to show that an athlete’s performance has been sub-par due to his life outside the sport, while concurrently admitting that we have no business going there. Rather than just say that someone’s career is in a rut due to a crippling addiction or reckless antisocial behavior, we say that they have “personal demons.” Because it’s trashy to say it, but it’s somehow professional to imply it.

Yet “personal demons” is the perfect phrase to describe our sport’s biggest waste of potential — and the only WEC Middleweight Champion to defend the belt — Paulo Filho.

In his prime, “Ely” had all the tools that a future UFC champion would need. Even today, a fighter with Filho’s credentials would be heralded as one of the UFC’s elite middleweights before even throwing a punch in the Octagon. Filho had black belts in Judo and Jiu-jitsu, a major organization’s title, and a flawless 16-0 record with wins over guys like Murilo Rua, Ryo Chonan, Chael Sonnen, and Minowaman. This is a guy who beat Anderson Silva while training with him, who turned down an opportunity to train with Chuck Liddell (after the Iceman sought his help). He had it all.

(Too obvious?)

Friends, Romans, countrymen, welcome to the most star-studded — and foolishly ambitious — CagePotato Roundtable in history. This week’s topic is “Who’s the Baddest Motherfucker of All Time?” and we have two very, very special guests to help us out. They are…

- Ben Fowlkes, the former CagePotato senior editor who abandoned us in April 2010 and has been writing incredible features for MMAFighting.com ever since. Last month, he and fellow CP veteran Chad Dundas launched a hilarious and thought-provoking weekly MMA podcast called The Co-Main Event. Do yourself a favor and subscribe to the show on iTunes right here, right now.

- Jason Ellis, the professional skateboarder, author, MMA fighter, truck racer, boxer, singer, and actor who hosts The Jason Ellis Show on weekday afternoons on Sirius XM Radio’s Faction channel. Jason’s best-selling autobiography — the appropriately titled I’m Awesome — details his triumph over drugs, personal tragedy, and being Australian, en route to becoming “the new voice of action sports in America”? Go buy it.

I’m sure some of you have already passed out from shock and excitement. As for the rest of you, pack a canteen and follow us into the abyss. Warning: It’s gonna get weird…

Ben Fowlkes

You want to talk old school badasses? I mean really, really old school? Like pre-Rickson Gracie old school? Look no further than Julius Caesar, son. Right about now you’re all like, ‘Who, dude with the cheap pizzas?’ First of all, that’s Little Caesar’s, which sucks. Second of all, shut up. I’m trying to teach you something here.

(I got winner.)

Today on the CagePotato Roundtable, we’re taking a trip through the magical world of make-believe! Which MMA fighter would you scrap with if reality was no object? Would it be a hated heel? A personal idol? An undersized Japanese lady who you might actually have a puncher’s chance against? Joining us this week is Vince Mancini, the esteemed editor of FilmDrunk.com and occasional CP commenter. Follow his shit @FilmDrunk, and if you have a topic idea for a future Roundtable column, please send it to tips@cagepotato.com.

Chris Colemon

Saying that I could fight any MMA fighter implies that I also have the option not to do so, and I would exercise that option. You see, I’m what scientists call “a pussy.” I don’t like my chances in a scrap against anyone, trained or not. In that way I’m kind of like the anti-Krazy Horse: I’ll back down from men, women, children, retarded people…

But if I had to throw down with an MMA fighter of my choosing, it’s going to be Bob Sapp, all day. The reasons are plentiful. As stated earlier, any trained fighter is going to wreck me, badly, so I’m certainly not going to pick someone smaller than me or a female — why give my detractors [friends] more to mock? No, I’m going to pick an intimidating juggernaut, and few fit that bill better than Bob Sapp. If I lose the fight — which is pretty much the only possibility — non-MMA fans [again, my friends] will look at pictures of him, then back at my unimposing frame, and accept the loss as a forgone conclusion while giving me eternal props for climbing into the cage with such a monstrosity.

Actual MMA fans tuning into the fight will already be expecting to see someone turtle-up and play dead before the first punch connects, so they won’t be disappointed if I take a page out of “The Beast’s” own playbook and hit the canvas prematurely. All of Sapp’s recent battles have been farces, so at least no one will be expecting a real fight; I’d hate to disappoint the crowd.

(Come on Tim, you haven’t even read the column yet. Maybe we wrote nice things about you, okay?)

Today on the CagePotato Roundtable, we’re talking paper champs — the one-and-dones and never-shoulda-beens who weren’t quite worthy of the gold around their waist. To limit our scope a bit, we’re only focusing on major MMA promotions like the UFC (including tournament champions), PRIDE (even though all their champions were awesome), Strikeforce, the WEC, and probably Bellator and DREAM as well if anybody cared enough to mention them. Joining us this week is our dear friend Kelly Crigger, the retired solider and best-selling MMA author who’s currently elevating rugby-awareness at American Sin Bin. Read on for our picks, and please, please, please send your ideas for future Roundtable topics to tips@cagepotato.com.

Jared Jones

For four months in 2001-2002, Dave Menne — the fighter who Phil Baroni famously steamrolled at UFC 39 — was the UFC’s middleweight champion. That’s right: The belt that Anderson Silva has proudly worn for the last five-and-a-half years used to belong to this guy. Menne won the title in September 2001 by beating 5-0 newcomer Gil Castillo, and went on to compile an overall record of 2-4 in the Octagon. Gentlemen, the floor is yours. Good luck.

Kelly Crigger

The worst major MMA champion of all time has to be Carlos Newton. For starters when you say your fighting style is Dragon Ball Z Jiu Jitsu to pay homage to a Japanese anime character, there’s a screw loose somewhere.

Secondly, when Newton won the UFC welterweight title, there wasn’t exactly a deep talent pool of competition. MMA was still evolving and techniques were as sound as using bubble gum on a car engine. I will admit that he beat a very experienced and talented Pat Miletich to get the strap, but that’s the lone gem in his dreadlocked crown. Today every weight class has a laundry list of accomplished fighters and an alternate list of accomplished fighters waiting in the wings in case they tweet something controversial and Mr. White fires all of them. The point is, he didn’t exactly climb a ladder of giants to get to the belt.

(“Uh…your hands getting tired yet?”)

For our first crowd-sourced CagePotato Roundtable, we asked you to give us your wildest fight memories, and damn did you people deliver. Our tip-line was flooded with dozens of hilarious, horrifying, obviously exaggerated tales. In the interest of brevity, we cherry-picked the 12 best submissions for today’s column, which you can read below, including a gem from CageWriter‘s own Maggie Hendricks, and a heart-warming story of asshole-comeuppance from the amateur MMA circuit. But first, one that’s near and dear to my heart…

RollsRoyceGracie writes:

This was back in 1988, when I was a senior in college, in Boston. It was late and I was a little drunk, but my biggest problem was the horrible Chinese food I had for dinner earlier that was trying to make its way down the pipeline and into my drawers. I was walking in a mostly residential neighborhood, having failed to score with my date, and I was looking for a McDonalds or a gas station, but I was getting ready to settle for a dark corner behind someone’s garage. [Ed. note: Been there, bro. Been there.]

As luck would have it, two local dropouts spotted me and innately sensed my vulnerability. They hustled over to my side of the street, but I decided to keep walking and ignore them. They didn’t like being ignored. I remember them calling me “Cock” – “Hey cock, where ya headed?” “Hey cock, why ya lookin’ so sour?” I foolishly insulted them by blurting out that I didn’t have any money. “Ya think we’re gonna rob ya, cock? We’re just lookin’ for some sport.” And with that, the smaller one, a skinny kid maybe 40 pounds lighter than me (because I let myself get fat in college), punched me in the stomach. I shit myself on the spot. Loudly.

(Props: David T. Cho)

Being an MMA fan ain’t easy sometimes. Hyped-up fights turn out to be snorefests, scandals damage the sport’s legitimacy, incredible parlay bets get wrecked by incompetent judging, forcing us to explain to our kids once again that Santa Claus most have lost our address this year. On today’s CagePotato Roundtable, we’re discussing the fights and moments that made us want to give up on MMA entirely and follow [*shudder*] baseball for a while. Let us know your own lowest fan-moment in the comments section, and if you have a topic for a future Roundtable column, send it it to tips@cagepotato.com.

Seth Falvo

It’s crazy how life goes full circle: When I was ten years old, Doug Flutie was my favorite NFL player. I begged my dad to buy me Flutie Flakes for breakfast, so that I too could grow up and be a successful, albeit undersized quarterback for a small market football team. My dad refused, which explains why I’m now a writer (You’re welcome, Andrew Luck). After all, I was too young to remember the real Doug Flutie, the Heisman Trophy winning Boston College quarterback who helped make the USFL somewhat relevant. Flutie may have still been a talented quarterback — especially for his age — but he had clearly lost a step by the time I started watching football.

Thirteen years later I was on the phone with my dad, talking about one of the most lopsided fights he had ever seen. I spent the entire conversation trying to convince him that the small, pudgy guy he just watched get destroyed by a no-name oddity was at one point the most dangerous fighter on the planet. As you may have guessed, I’m specifically referring to Fedor Emelianenko vs. Antonio Silva. But really, Fedor’s entire Strikeforce run can be summed up the exact same way. Perhaps Fedor was too old, perhaps the heavyweight division had simply caught up to him, or perhaps it was a combination of the two. But one thing is clear: By the time that Fedor made his way to Strikeforce, he was no longer the untouchable fighter that he had once been.

Even in his lone victory, a second round knockout against Brett Rogers, he was arguably losing the fight before connecting with the fight ending right hand. And Brett Rogers is no Apollo Creed; he’s barely a pimple on the ass of Vodka Drunkenski. He’s a gatekeeper in every sense of the word — just legitimate enough for EliteXC to have kept him away from a “prime” Kimbo Slice, but not legitimate enough to pose any threat of beating a true contender. We had all the warning signs that Fedor was going to be a bust signing after this fight, yet we chose to ignore them because hey, he won, right?

(Matt Serra: MMA’s patron saint of lost causes.)

With tomorrow night’s UFC 145 main event slated as a 4-1 squash match, the CP gang is talking upsets for today’s installment of the CagePotato Roundtable. If you have a topic-suggestion for a future Roundtable column, please send it to tips@cagepotato.com, and share your own MMA-upset testimonials in the comments section…

Doug “ReX13″ Richardson

This wasn’t a hard decision for me: My personal “greatest upset” would have to be Fabricio Werdum vs. Fedor Emelianenko.

While I normally disagree with that crazy fanboy (hey Sodak) explaining to me how Fedor is an intelligent machine, sent back in time to destroy craniums and assassinate Andrei Arlovski, I completely wrote off Werdum here. Like, no way a guy who hung out in Minotauro Nogueira’s guard for six days is going to get tapped by a dude who calls himself “Go Horse” and smiles like this, right? So yeah, I gave him no chance of pulling out a victory. I could be on tape somewhere saying that he had no chance, in an obnoxiously opinionated manner. I may also be credited with one of the worst predictions in CP history.

So yeah, that one stung a little bit.

(I know, Kim. These fights make us want to puke, too.)

Sometimes, that “third man in the cage” can be a fighter’s worst enemy. And so, we thank CP reader Ryan Barnhart for providing us with this week’s CagePotato Roundtable topic: “What was the worst referee blunder in MMA history?” Since we’ve already covered judging fiascos, it only seemed fair to dump some hate on the sport’s officiating as well. If you have a topic-suggestion for a future Roundtable column, please send it to tips@cagepotato.com, and let your voices be heard in the comments section…

Chris Colemon

I’ve already lost this Roundtable debate. The travesty captured in the video above isn’t a “blunder” at all — it’s a referee-sanctioned homicide. At first glance you spot the black slacks and tie and assume this official to be a professional of the highest order; only later do you realize that he’s a struggling mortician simply there to drum up more business for himself.

Rogerio da Silva and Eric Venutti met in the second round of the ‘Brazilian Vale Tudo Fighting 2‘ tournament. Not only does the lard-ass at the helm of the match allow his own indecisiveness to place a fighter in jeopardy, he insists that an unnecessary finishing blow be delivered to a fighter too rocked to realize that he’s still engaged in a fist fight, Mortal Kombat-style.

It’s easy to look at the date of this event — May 31, 1996 — and dismiss it as the sort of thing that happened in those early days of human cockfighting. But keep in mind that by this time the UFC had ten events under its black belt, and Brazil was no stranger to the fight biz either. Even under a looser rule set, previous fights in the same organization had ended via judges decision and TKO due to cuts, so civility was not entirely lost on these people. This lone act makes everything Cecil Peoples has done look completely acceptable. Almost.

(“From now on, all preliminary card fighters will be required to slam four shots of tequila before the start of each round.”)

After a one-week resting period, the CagePotato Roundtable is back up in that ass with another spirited debate. Today’s topic is “If you could make one change to the Unified Rules of MMA, what would it be?” Sitting in this week is Potato Nation comment-section all-star Nathan Smith (aka The12ozCurls) — and since it’s his first time, we’ll make the new guy go first. If you have a topic-suggestion for a future Roundtable column, please send it to tips@cagepotato.com, and shoot us your own MMA rule-change suggestions in the comments section…

Nathan “The12OzCurls” Smith
One of the reasons we love the sport of MMA is the absolute reality that a fight can end in the blink of an eye. We have all held off taking a leak or grabbing another beer until the end of a round because we all know that in the 30-90 seconds that we step away from the screen, the fight could be over. It has happened to all of us. You figure the last minute of the round is going to be uneventful just like the four minutes prior. You get up to snag another High Life and then you hear the collective “OOOOOHHHHHHHHH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” from the roomful of friends that have gathered in your man-cave garage to watch the latest UFC.

So I ask: How could it get better? Answer: By adding another way to win a fight in the blink of an eye, that is more painful than a Paul Harris ankle lock and more powerful than a 2005 Iceman overhand right.

I would change the rule that states that it is illegal to “intentionally throw your opponent out of the cage/ring.” Now let me preface this by saying it has to be a cage because pushing somebody over the top rope is for guys like Brock and Hillbilly Jim. Not only would I make chucking your opponent out of the Octagon legal, I would propose that you automatically win if you are able to successfully achieve that feat.

We have a very, very special guest on this week’s installment of the CagePotato Roundtable: UFC light-heavyweight legend Stephan Bonnar, who has agreed to join the CP gang for a spirited debate on the most epic rivalries in MMA history — something he knows a thing or two about first-hand. Follow Stephan on Twitter @stephanbonnar, buy some of his t-shirts at PunchBuddies.com, and if you have a suggestion for a future Roundtable topic, please send it to tips@cagepotato.com. Now then…

Stephan Bonnar

I’m here to talk about MMA’s most intense rivalries. Catering to the casual fight fan first, I’ll start with the most obvious one. (I know it’s not fair to you hardcore fans, but no one cares about you. We know that you will tune in no matter what. I still appreciate you, you obsessed lunatics, so just stay tuned.)

Chael Sonnen vs Anderson Silva. Chael recently received his PHD in the art of trash talking (TT), and was also the valedictorian of his class. He took TT to new heights. His words ripped not only through his adversaries intestines, but the intestines of his counterpart’s entire country. Trust me though, this brilliant TT’er has an outrageous yet adept plan to convert the hate of some of those countrymen to love and acceptance. Yes, I have inside info…but no, I won’t spoil Chael’s next scheme. Take it from me, “You’ll see what’s up Chael’s sleeve!”

If Chael was valedictorian of his class, then Anderson was the class buffoon. Anderson’s knowledge of the English language quickly evaporates when it’s his turn to retort to some of Chael’s verbal onslaught. This rivalry has had the most one-sided trashtalking in the history of the sport. When it comes to slanging rhetoric, is Anderson worse than Joe Frazier was against the great Ali? I’d enthusiastically say so. I’d also have to say that Chael would be able to hang with “The Greatest” when it came to sparring with verbs. Even in his native tongue, Anderson fails to even so much as hold Chael’s jock strap. Landslide victory for Chael in this event. And for those of you that say talking trash doesn’t do shit, I beg to differ. It has increased my anxiousness ten fold in anticipation of seeing this “rivalry” settled with extreme violence.

(In the heart of the child who made it, the Super HLUK belt is the most prestigious title on the planet.)

CagePotato Roundtable is our new recurring column in which the CP writing staff and some of our friends all get together to debate an MMA-related topic. Joining us this week is MiddleEasy.com founder Zeus Tipado, who was kind enough to smoke an entire bag of PCP and channel the spirit of Wallid Ismail. If you have a suggestion for a future Roundtable column, send it to tips@cagepotato.com. This week’s topic: Who’s your favorite MMA fighter to never win a major title?

Ben Goldstein

We take personality for granted these days. Everywhere you look, the MMA ranks are packed with shameless self-promoters, aspiring comedians, unrepentant assholes, and assorted clown-men. But in the UFC’s infancy, fighters tended to come in two types: Stoic (see Royce Gracie, Dan Severn) and certifiably insane ( see Joe Son, Harold Howard). David “Tank” Abbott changed all that. He entered the UFC with a fully-fledged persona, and managed to stay in character through his entire career. Simply put, he was the UFC’s first villain, and he played that role more effectively than anyone has since.

Heralded as a “pit fighter” — a term invented by UFC promoter Art Davie — Tank’s martial art of choice was hitting guys in the head really hard, which he did while wearing the sort of fingerless gloves that soon become industry standard. It’s difficult to overstate the impact that Tank’s debut at UFC 6 had on a 14-year-old Ben Goldstein as I was watching the pay-per-view at my friend Josh’s house. It wasn’t just that Abbott starched John Matua in a mere 18 seconds, or that Matua’s body seized up when his head hit the canvas. It’s that Tank reacted to the knockout by mimic-ing Matua’s stiffened pose. Tank actually mocked John Matua for having a seizure. Ruthless! And how about his destruction of Steve Nelmark at the Ultimate Ultimate ’96, which had to be the first “oh shit is that guy dead?” moment in UFC history. Tank was a living reminder that the UFC was very real, and very dangerous.

CagePotato Roundtable is our new recurring column in which the CP writing staff and some of our friends all get together to debate an MMA-related topic. Joining us this week is former CagePotato staff writer Chad Dundas, who now writes for an up-and-coming blog called ESPN. If you have a suggestion for a future Roundtable column, send it to tips@cagepotato.com.

CagePotato reader Alexander W. writes: “The Demetrious Johnson vs. Ian McCall fight inspired my suggestion: Greatest robberies in MMA history. I’d be curious to hear the variety of opinions out there. Surely that fight was a top ten.”

Chad Dundas

There are a lot of things about Pride Total Elimination 2003 that don’t make sense when viewed with modern MMA sensibilities. How to even comprehend a world where a skinny, haired-up, suit jacket-wearing Dana White could bet Pride bigwigs $250,000 that Chuck Liddell was going to win that company’s 2003 middleweight grand prix? Or comprehend that a bizarrely dangerous and clearly-enunciating Liddell showed up in the first round of said tournament and KTFOed an impossibly svelte Alistair Overeem? Or that Overeem had an old dude in a robe and shriners hat accompany him to the ring while carrying a big foam hammer? Or that on this night somebody got tapped out with a sleeve choke? Or that Wanderlei Silva fought Kazushi Sakuraba and it didn’t just make everybody feel sad and empty?

No sense at all.

What does still sort of make sense is this: After watching Liddell sleep Overeem, there was no way on God’s green Earth that Pride judges were going to let another UFC emissary walk out of Saitama Super Arena with a win*, so they conspired to pull off one of the greatest screwjobs in MMA history when they awarded Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira a unanimous decision over Ricco Rodriguez. The indisputable fact is, Ricco whipped Big Nog good that night, taking him down, brutalizing him, shaking off his feeble submission attempts and controlling pretty much the whole affair. At least, that’s how I remember it. Unfortunately, due to Zuffa’s ongoing war on Internet piracy it seems their bout will only be remembered by history and by the creepy old man who answers the queries you submit to the Sherdog Fight Finder.

CagePotato Roundtable is a new recurring column in which the CagePotato writing staff (and some of our friends) share their opinions on an MMA-related topic, and hopefully inspire some discussion among our readers as well. For the inaugural installment, we took inspiration from Joe Rogan’s enthusiastic crowning of last weekend’s Tim Boetch vs. Yushin Okami fight as “the greatest comeback in the history of the UFC.” That’s debatable, to say the least — but isn’t everything? So what *was* the greatest comeback fight in MMA history?

Seth Falvo
When Joe Rogan first called The Barbarian’s victory the greatest comeback in UFC history, my first thought was “Come on, Joe, are you seriously the only MMA fan who hasn’t seen Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira vs. Bob Sapp?” That comeback exposed Sapp for the overhyped freak that he was while establishing the legend of Big Nog and his ability to come from behind to win fights. Hell, we at Cagepotato consider it to be the best freak show fight to ever come out of Japan. But in fairness to Joe Rogan, that fight didn’t take place in the UFC. So my second thought was “Come on, Joe, are you seriously the only UFC fan who hasn’t seen Mike Russow vs. Todd Duffee?”

What makes this comeback so great was the fact that Todd Duffee and Mike Russow were essentially photo negatives of each other. Before this fight, Duffee was destined to be the next big thing in the UFC’s heavyweight division, having just tied the record for the fastest knockout in UFC history in his promotional debut against Tim Hague. Duffee was on the cover of Muscle & Fitness, the poster boy for Muscletech and seemingly in every men’s magazine on the planet — no matter how loosely the content was related to sports. Meanwhile, Russow was quietly coming off of a unanimous decision victory over Justin McCully in his UFC debut and had more fat in his left bicep than Todd Duffee had in his entire body. Everything about this fight seemed like it was a squash match.