Friday, April 27, 2007

Wang v. Melendez

Let's check in on the latest episode of The Ultimate Fighter. In case you haven't been following things, Team Pulver has won every fight so far. The last match was the closest. Diaz beat Emerson. Emerson was good; Diaz was just a bit better. It looked like Diaz was going to submit Emerson in round two with an armbar, but Emerson was smart enough to throw his body in the direction Diaz was trying to bend his arm, and Emerson escaped ... only to get caught with a rear naked choke and tap with 18 seconds left.

So, Jens Pulver picks Melendez and matches him against Andy Wang. I have high hopes for Wang. He talks about having learned tai chi from his grandfather, who he doesn't want to let down in this fight. He says each fight is a chance to show warrior spirit. He's a black belt in brazilian jiu-jitsu. And he apparently played running back at the University of Hawaii. But he apparently has a history of refusing to try to submit opponents, preferring to trade strikes. Andy's coach, B.J. Penn, makes Andy promise to go for the submission if B.J. tells him to do so.

The fight begins. Melendez is a lot taller and 15 pounds heavier. It quickly becomes apparent that Melendez is also a little quicker and a little more skilled as a striker. Andy does have good defensive skills, but they won't win him the fight. Melendez takes the first round.

B.J. tells Andy to go for the submission in round two, and Andy says he will. I think he may have tried to go for the take-down twice. But he doesn't get it either time, and on each attempt he gives up too quickly. Not to mention, Andy should have tried to get a take-down more than twice. He just doesn't look like he's that good at take-downs. I'm reminded of what my friend Harris Brumer (former state wrestling champ in high school, current student of Brandon "The Truth" Vera) said about wrestling, that it teaches you takedowns better than jiu-jitsu does. Andy is proving the truth of that statement. He can't take Melendez down.

The fight goes the distance and remains a pure striking match. Not surprisingly then, Melendez, the better fighter, wins a unanimous decision.

And then Andy starts crying. He feels bad because he let people down. I can respect that. But he's really howling. Shrieking. Gibbering. Screaming. It's a little embarrassing.

Team Pulver: 4. Team Penn: 0.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Joe Must Go!

Rumor has it that the holdup between the UFC and HBO has to do with the commentators. Some people think that the cable network is willing to make a deal to broadcast MMA cards, but only if it can replace the current tandem of announcers: Mike Goldberg and Joe Rogan. Whether this rumor is true or not, I can't tell you. But I can tell you this: Joe Rogan sucks. And if it turns out that HBO isn't trying to get rid of him, then I will.


Let's begin by giving the devil his due and describing what Joe Rogan brings to the table as a color commentator. He is adequately knowledgeable about mixed martial arts. He can identify a triangle choke, an arm-bar, and a guillotine. He can tell a roundhouse kick from a side kick, and he can correctly identify a punch as a jab, an overhand right, or a spinning back fist. In addition, he brings a certain celebrity to the broadcast. He has had success in Hollywood. He was a part of the cast on the sitcom News Radio and, more importantly, he has been the host of the extremely successful series Fear Factor.


But I want a color commentator who is more than adequately knowledgeable. I can identify a triangle choke, a back fist and a jab. I don't need anyone else to do that for me. For those who do, that's what Mike Goldberg is doing. He's the MMA equivalent of the play-by-play guy in an NFL broadcast. Goldberg is like Pat Summerall: he describes what's happening, and he does a fine job. But the UFC needs to partner him with a John Madden: someone who can explain what's happening. Later on in this article, I'll suggest some people who could fill this role. For now, suffice it to say that Joe Rogan doesn't do it; he doesn't explain the action, he merely describes it -- and only adequately.


Nor is his celebrity status enough. UFC commissioner Dana White said that he has spent years building the UFC brand, and he doesn't want HBO to screw it up. Therefore, he doesn't want to relinquish creative control over the broadcast to HBO. He's right: he has built the brand, and HBO could screw it up, and therefore he shouldn't relinquish control to them. However, that doesn't mean he shouldn't use his control to make improvements. It may be that, several years ago, when the UFC was relatively unknown, people bought the pay-per-view packages because they knew Joe Rogan from Fear Factor and they heard he was announcing. I find it hard to believe that anyone would have decided to pay the $50 fee for pay-per-view to listen to Joe Rogan, but I'll concede it might have happened. If so, it doesn't happen anymore. The UFC is no longer unknown -- it's now more popular than boxing. Current fans watch the next pay-per-view because they enjoyed the last one. Newcomers tune in because they want to check out mixed martial arts -- not because they want to watch a C-list celebrity like Joe Rogan. Dana White wants to build the brand? Joe Rogan has grown the brand as much as he's ever going to grow it. It would be like if Monday Night Football had paired Summerall with ... I don't know ... Nicole Ritchie. If it had, the NFL wouldn't be the nation's most popular sport today. And people wouldn't be playing Ritchie the way they play Madden. (By the way, have you noticed that there is no UFC video game comparable in popularity to the above-mentioned football video game? Coincidence? I think not.)


So much for the positives that Joe Rogan supposedly brings to the table. What about the negatives? I'm glad you asked.


First of all, he's arrogant and mean-spirited. I used to watch Fear Factor quite a bit, and in doing so I got to know Joe Rogan better than I wanted. I can't count the number of insulting, cutting remarks he made about contestants. I can tell you, though, that he never directed those remarks at good-looking female contestants. Apparently, he thought the viewing audience was too stupid to be bothered by his blatant double-standards.


Second, he's a coward. Numerous times on Fear Factor, a contestant would challenge Rogan to do one of the stunts. He never once had the balls to do it. And this is the guy we have announcing no-holds-barred fights? It's a disgrace.


Third, he killed the greatest show ever to grace our nation's airways. I speak, of course, of The Man Show. The original Man Show, hosted by Adam Carolla and Jimmy Kimmel, was comedic genius. Who can forget the Man Show Boy, or the Wheel of Destiny, or the advice segments from Karl Malone, or the Juggies, or the beer-chugging, audience-wide toast of “Ziggy Sockey, Ziggy Sockey, Hoy, Hoy, Hoy”? But then, after four successful seasons, Carolla and Kimmel left for other projects, and were replaced by Doug Stanhope and Joe Rogan. While Stanhope wasn't Carolla or Kimmel, he was occasionally funny. Joe Rogan was never funny. Never. Ever. As a result, the show went downhill and was canceled after one season with the new hosts.


Now, you might say, “Okay, Joe Rogan isn't a comedian. What does that have to do with him announcing the UFC?” Nothing, except -- he ruined The Man Show! The Man Show! That kind of thing can't be forgiven. He needs to pay a price, and if that price is that he gets run out of the entertainment industry, well, that's a price I'm prepared to have him pay. Because he might ruin the UFC next.


And it's not like there aren't men available who could replace Joe Rogan and do a better job. Adam Carolla would be funny and smart, and as a former pro boxer, he knows a little about fighting. Or what about Sam Sheridan? The Fighter's Heart author has actually fought in MMA, as well as training with some of the best martial artists in the world. In addition, he has thought deeply and critically about fight sports. I think he would bring an interesting perspective. Or, we could go the classic sports television route and bring in a current or retired UFC competitor to provide color. Two names that jump to my mind are Matt Serra and Tito Ortiz. I watched both of those guys on different seasons of The Ultimate Fighter, and each struck me as bright, knowledgeable, and articulate. In addition, each comes with a fan base from his success as a UFC fighter. I bet either of those guys could add value to a broadcast with inside information about training, techniques, strategy, etc. It would be, I bet, like listening to a boxing match where the color is provided by Teddy Atlas. I love watching Friday Night Fights because Atlas tells me stuff I don't already know. Joe Rogan never does that.

So why is he still in the booth?


Tuesday, April 10, 2007

The Ultimate Fighter Season Five premiere

I was originally going to write this first entry about IFL Battleground. But it's boring, so I am switching to the season premiere of The Ultimate Fighter (TUF) which luckily I've TiVo-ed.

Should be interesting. We've got an Asian guy, for the first time ever on TUF. Many of the martial arts are Asian in origin. Will this guy represent? Or will he dishonor his ancestors? Or will he just be himself and live out some third, less extreme option? There's a 6'4'', 155 pound black guy. He's already annoying me by trying to hide his insecurity behind a facade of overconfidence. There's a gay dude from California, who, judging from the clips of future episodes, will be executing a brave but possibly foolish strategy of attempting to use his homosexuality to his advantage by snuggling with the other guys and sitting on their laps. There's a dude from Maine who owns a seafood restaurant (the “Monstah Lobstah”). The coaches are active MMA fighters B.J. “the Prodigy” Penn (boring nickname) and Jens “Little Evil” Pulver (awesome nickname). And of course, providing cameo appearances will be the head of the UFC, Dana White, the Commissioner-as-Common-Man.

Dana immediately describes this season's contestants as “some crazy motherf----ers.” You think David Stern, the NBA commissioner, would ever go on the air and describe his players as “crazy motherf----ers”?

Here's what I know about B.J. Penn. B.J. has phenomenal, unbelievable flexibility, which is a huge advantage for him when grappling. Submission holds that would cause another man to tap don't cause B.J. any pain at all; in addition, that flexibility enables B.J. to attempt submissions from weird, unexpected angles that the average guy would never be able to take. Perhaps because of his flexibility, B.J. is one of the few men who has ever defeated Matt Hughes. Hughes, as I'm sure many of you know, is one of the greatest pound-for-pound martial artists in the world. Hughes is very tough, very strong, and very skilled. He was the welterweight champ for a long time, easily beating all challengers, including the original UFC superstar, Royce Gracie. Hughes was also a very successful coach on season two of The Ultimate Fighter, when his team won significantly more often than the opposition (coached by Rich Franklin). But B.J. Penn has beaten Hughes (although Hughes got his revenge in the rematch, taking Penn out in the third round).

I know Jens Pulver from Sam Sheridan's excellent book, A Fighter's Heart. Jens trains under Pat Miletich in Iowa. Sheridan related an anecdote told to him by another fighter about his first day training at the Miletich gym. The guy said that he had a lot of anger and just liked to fight. He used to get into fights in bars almost every weekend, often against men taller and heavier than himself. He never lost. Then he started training in MMA with Miletich and was told that he would be a lightweight and only fight against guys his own size. He thought, heck, that's easy. I'll be the best guy here from day one.

Then he met Jens Pulver.

I now learn from the show that Jens and B.J. have fought once, and Pulver won in an upset. They're slated to fight again at the end of this season. Penn will be heavily favored once more.

Pulver wears his baseball cap slanted to the side. I'm going to try not to hold that against him.

We go to commercials as the coaches are beginning to pick teams. Penn has just asked anyone who doesn't want anything to do with Jens Pulver's team to raise their hand. I wouldn't raise mine, but I think some people are going to raise theirs.

The commercials show how far the UFC has come. When I started watching The Ultimate Fighter in season two, it seemed like no one wanted to advertise on the show. The UFC had to pay for a lot of the ads itself: most of the commercials were for UFC pay-per-views and UFC supplements (Xyience). But now they've got big-time advertisers. This first break includes commercials for Burger King, the new Quentin Tarantino movie, and the new Halle Berry-Bruce Willis flick.

We're back from commercial. They replay Penn saying, “If anyone knows, for a complete fact, that they want to be on my team and give 100% and they don't want nothing to do with Jens Pulver's team, raise your hand.” Wow, it looks like three-fourths of the guys in the room raised their hands. Jens has to feel badly. He does. You can tell from his face that he's embarrassed. B.J. counts the number of guys who raised their hands: ten, but he can only pick eight. Nonetheless, he tries to take all ten en masse. Jens says fine, I'll take the remaining guys, that's fine, I'll still beat you.

But that isn't how they're supposed to pick teams, and Dana White looks extremely annoyed, even though, as he says, “I always expect some crazy s--- from B.J.” “You get one pick,” he tells Penn. “Then you take one guy,” he says to Pulver. They keep arguing with him. “It's like f---ing anarchy in here!” says Dana, shaking his head. “Pick one guy!” he tells Penn. And that's the way it's going to be, though neither Penn nor Pulver nor the contestants like it.

Penn picks Gray Maynard first. Jens picks the tall black dude, Corey Hill. Then there's some more trash talking between the coaches, forcing Dana to tell them to “shut the f--- up!” You think NFL commish Roger Goodall talked that way to Pacman Jones at their sit-down in New York City last week? No, but he should have. That would have been sweet.

B.J. ends up with Maynard, Matt Wiman, Gabe Ruediger, Joe Lauzon, Rob Emerson, Andy Wang, Allen Berube, and Noah Thomas. Jens takes Hill, Nate Diaz, Brandon Melendez, Manny Gamburyan, Cole Miller, Brian Geraghty, Wayne Weems, and Marlon Sims. Each team takes a separate van back to the house. Corey Hill starts talking trash in the van, then continues it back at the house. For some unknown reason, he selects Gabe Ruediger as his target. He actually starts barking like a dog at Gabe. Then he circles Gabe like a shark preparing to attack. Gabe maintains eye contact, but doesn't seem to know what to say. Later, he claims he is not intimidated, but I'm not so sure.

Both coaches seem to have assembled good, well-rounded staffs. B.J. has his kick boxing coach, his grappling coach, and his brother. Jens has the boxing coach from Miletich Fighting Systems, a wrestling coach, and a jiujitsu guy. Neither of these coaches is Ken Shamrock. Remember when Shamrock, the season three coach, brought a bodybuilder as an assistant? Not surprisingly, only one of the guys on Shamrock's team won a fight that season. Jens and B.J. have each brought legitimate staffs, guys who will help the contestants get better at MMA.

B.J. got to choose the first fighter, so Jens gets to choose the first fight. He decides to pit Cole Miller, from his team, against Allen Berube from B.J.'s team. Cole is younger and taller, has a longer reach, and is more experienced. It doesn't look good for Allen, the seafood restaurant owner. Even his coach isn't too optimistic, although B.J. does his best to psych Allen up. If Cole has a weakness, it may be that he is really thin, maybe too thin. Allen should go to the body and try to break something, like one of Cole's ribs.

The fight starts. Both guys are cautious. Allen comes forward, throwing jabs from too far away to hit. That's a rookie mistake, or a nervous mistake, or both. He's just wasting energy.

Cole throws a high roundhouse kick that misses. Allen should attack now, while Cole is off-balance from the kick. But he doesn't.

A few moments later, Allen closes the gap and wraps Cole up, going for a take-down. Why? Allen trained in boxing for longer than he has trained in jiujitsu. Closing the gap was good, because Allen doesn't have a long reach and needs to fight on the inside, but once he got there he should have started throwing hooks, uppercuts, and knees.

Instead, they go to the ground, where Cole has the advantage. He almost gets Allen in a guillotine choke. B.J. is shouting “Watch the guillotine, Monstah!” (Listening to B.J. continually call Allen “Monstah” is hilarious on several levels. B.J. is Hawaiian, but he has adopted Allen's New England-accented pronunciation of “monster.” And Allen is only about five-and-a-half feet tall, 155 pounds, but he has acquired the nickname “Monstah” because the name of his restaurant is “Monstah Lobstah.” Or maybe the restaurant is really called “Monster Lobster,” but nobody knows that because of the way Allen pronounces his r's.)

Allen narrowly escapes the guillotine but moves into a position that exposes him to an arm-bar. B.J. is still shouting, but now it's “Monstah, watch the arm-bar! Watch the arm-bar, Monstah!” The arm-bar attempt fails, so Cole then tries to set a triangle choke. Allen has one hand free, in position to punish Cole with some hammer strikes to the face, but instead he just wastes his time punching ineffectually. On the ground like he is, it's impossible for Allen to put any body weight behind his attack, which is why he should use an attack that doesn't require body weight to be effective. Maybe he doesn't know about hammer strikes because he hasn't trained in karate. I think Allan has only trained in jujitsu and boxing, and neither of those styles uses hammer strikes. Whether that's the reason or not, the bottom line is that Allen never mounts any kind of effective attack with his free arm. So, of course, Cole is able to set the triangle choke perfectly, and Allen taps.

B.J. is magnanimous in defeat. “For what Monstah had, that was his 100%. If he could have given more, he would have given more.” Jens is also kind. “It was a good technical fight. That was a good start.”

No, it wasn't. Allen fought like an idiot. He wasn't good enough at the ground game to take it to the ground. He should have been avoiding being taken to the ground. Instead, he stupidly took the fight there himself, and he paid the price.

Oh, well. The New England accent was good to hear while it lasted.