By CP Reader Scott Johnson
I rented my first UFC event from the local Blockbuster video store back in 1999. I had seen many of the commercials advertising this No Holds Barred spectacle where “Two men enter, one man leaves”, and as a lifelong pro wrestling fan, I was interested to see this new entity. I paid $3.74 and went home with my VHS copy of UFC VI with visions of barbarism and gore dancing in my head, expecting to see nothing short of legalized murder.
What I got wasn’t far off. Immediately after seeing a portly bar brawler by the name of David L. “Tank” Abbott take eighteen seconds to knock a 400 lb. John Matua into a living death, I was hooked. I would go on to rent every single tape that I could get my hands on and started purchasing every PPV event I could (Ok, technically my girlfriend’s dad was unknowingly purchasing them but whatever…)
I mention this only to establish that I am not someone who is new to the UFC brand, nor am I what the hardcore fans would consider a “TUF Noob.” I was there when Frank Shamrock was ending hopelessly overmatched Russians in a matter of seconds. I was watching when Matt Hughes performed an unconscious powerbomb on Carlos Newton, beginning a reign of domination not yet seen in what would be referred to as the “New Era of Mixed Martial Arts.” I spent many of hours passionately defending the intricacies of Jiu Jitsu to my friends, who laughed and referred to talented fighters like Pat Miletich and Mikey Burnett as “a bunch of pantie grabbers.”
That being said, I want you to understand how much it pains me to make my next statement. As a loyal fan of the UFC, I must make the “Ultimate” sacrifice in order to help what I have loved so much for so long. I have to stop watching what has become one of my favorite forms of entertainment.
I have to stop watching UFC. Why, you ask? Well, let me tell you…