(Skip to the 1:30 mark to watch Karma work its magic.)
There is perhaps no greater a hooley-hoo punk-ass jabroni in the MMA world than the guy who fakes the glove tap and immediately tries to knock his opponent out/take him down. It’s a garbage ass maneuver, perpetrated by only the soggiest of floor turds, but the one good thing that can come from such blatant bitchassery is watching it backfire in said jabroni’s face. Paul Kelly tried it against Donald Cerrone at UFC 126 and was promptly strangled for his efforts. JR Fuller tried it against Jonathan Harris and was promptly dicknailed. But today’s cheap-shotter, Adam Fyfe, almost got away with this bitch move when he pulled it on fellow ammy Alex Thorne at Absolute Adrenaline: Platinum on November 4th. Almost.
Although Jeff Monson wisely avoided his go-to strategy of fucking dudes for free when he met Aleksander “Patient Zero” Emelianenko at M-1 Challenge 35 yesterday, he was able to come away with another one of his signature North-South submission victories. We wouldn’t exactly call the events leading up to said finish pretty — Monson’s wild, looping punches in the early going only looked passable when compared to the half-assed takedown attempts that followed them, but “The Snowman” did manage to sweep Emelianenko once things hit the ground in the first round and controlled the Russian for the rest of the fight thereafter.
(“Can you guys hurry this up? My Mom…I mean The Phoenix signal is calling.”)
If you are an MMA fan, a comic book fan, or just a really lonely guy, then you’ve probably heard the story of Phoenix Jones a.k.a Ben Fodor, the amateur MMA fighter/”superhero” that according to his Wikipedia page “is an American leader of a ten-member citizen crime-prevention patrol group who call themselves the Rain City Superhero Movement.” So basically, a bunch of dudes who never met a Friday night they couldn’t squander formed a neighborhood watch group and dressed in cosplay. Because as we all know, the best way to be taken seriously is to dress up like a bumblebee and hand out life lessons to the drunks who happen to stumble out of the bars each night.
(A full replay of Quieroz vs. Volkov. For those of you who don’t have time for the whole thing, the relevant bits are after the jump.)
Although it’s a given that fight promotions have no control over which referees are assigned to their events/fights — because if they did, Dana White would have permanently relegated Steve Mazaggati to the UFC’s super secret “AIDS-ridden Lion Fights” division — it has become apparent that Bellator is clearly getting the shit end of the stick when it comes to acquiring a decent referee. Just a couple weeks ago at Bellator 78, referee Jerry Poe allowed Andrey Koreshkov to savage Maruis Zaromskis’ unconscious body so badly that it would have been considered necrophilia in some states. And just two events later at Bellator 80, referee James Warring displayed a similar, albeit less dangerous, incompetency during the Vinicius Queiroz/Alexander Volkov fight.
Our friends over at Fightlinker were able to find a compilation of Warring’s missteps during the fight, which we’ve placed below, and my God do they redefine the phrase “interesting interpretation of the rules.” Amidst a barrage of ridiuclously quick stand-ups, Warring appeared as if he were making up rules out of thin air, warning Queiroz that he could not “lead with the forehead” while he was on the ground, nor could he strike the top or the “Mohawk area” of his opponent’s head. While the first rule is an outright fabrication, the criteria for the “Mohawk area” head strikes can be found in the unified rules of MMA. That being said, Warring’s belief that a Mohawk typically starts in the middle of one’s forehead highlights the growing problems in MMA refereeing when it comes to interpreting the rules.
After the jump: The aforementioned lowlight reel of Warring’s Bellator 80 performance set to an oddly poignant soundtrack and the official complaint from Quieroz’s camp.
The morality of children fighting for sport (both here and abroad) has given us plenty of opportunities for debate over the years. In Thailand, no such debate exists. Little kids fight Muay Thai, and that’s the way it is.
Still, it’s always a little unsettling for us American non-sociopath-types to see a child kicked unconscious, which is what happens around the 1:59 mark of the video above. The referee’s position actually blocks the impact from our view, but the aftermath — in which the losing fighter in the blue gloves is motionless on his back for about 15 seconds — suggests that he got seriously rattled. For what it’s worth, the YouTube page identifies the winner as “Baby Muay Thai fighter Pee,” and calls it a KO via body kick. Congrats, Pee.
Look, I know this is how things are done over there, but just because something is tradition, doesn’t mean it’s sacred. Kiddie Muay Thai knockouts — good or bad for humanity? Call 1-888-CAGE-TATO right now and let us know how you feel. Or just use the comments section.
There’s an old proverb that goes “Learn to walk before you run.” I can think of no better way to better describe the ass-whooping you are about to witness. Apparently the gentleman in the blue shorts, packed to the brim with testosterone and hubris, thought that he had acquired the necessary skills to take on the Muay Thai instructor donning the green shorts and Alessio Sakara-esque tatts. Unfortunately, our boy Blue learned everything he needed to know about striking from a Bob Sapp highlight reel. When this kind of dangerous ignorance is combined with an unwillingness to admit defeat until you are slung over the ropes in a heap ala Rampage Jackson, well, you end up slung over the ropes in a heap like Rampage Jackson.
While it’s hard to knock a guy for his fearlessness, we would also like to inform Blue that there is in fact a middle ground between the heavy bag and Tong Po’s cousin to test your skills. Consider that while you’re eating cheeseburgers through a straw for the next week or two.
(“If this isn’t a world where Mitt Romney is president, you can just put me back to sleep thank you very much.”)
As we mentioned in our head to head assessment of this weekend’s UFC Macao main event matchup, Rich Franklin is one tough SOB. So tough, in fact, that he not only managed to fight through a broken arm in his UFC 115 match against Hall of Famer Chuck Liddell, but even made sure to finish Liddell before the bell rung, for the fight could have likely been called in Liddell’s favor had both men made it to their corners.
So with the main card action kicking off at a completely reasonable 9 a.m. EST this Saturday, the UFC has released a couple of Franklin’s (as well as Le’s) fights online to give us all a little refresher course on what our two headliners have been up to. It’s a noble effort, but there’s simply no way in hell I will have recovered from my night of binge drinking, bum fighting, and huffing paint thinner through an old grease rag in time to catch any of the main card matchups live. They’re called priorities.
Anyway, head after the jump to take a stroll down memory lane, even though you probably remember the intricacies of this fight better than ol’ Chucky boy does.
So in honor of the occasion, we’ve dug up Silva’s last official victory — which came over Keith Jardine via knockout (I know, you’re shocked too) at UFC 102 in August of 2009 — and placed it after the jump for your enjoyment. Because it is Halloween after all, and who won’t sleep better knowing that the scary monster in your closet can easily be felled with a solid left hook?
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.