The MMA News Report 07.23.08

Posted by Morgan Marx on 07.23.2008

An epic (kinda), well written (well sorta), in depth (I may have missed a fight while foraging for food), look at Affliction: Banned from someone in attendance.

AFFLICTION: BANNED LIVE REPORT

Saturday Night: Post Event

I wandered out of the Honda Center in a daze, bleary from a day of travel and excitement. Along with over 14,000 fans, I had just witnessed a momentous occasion for American MMA. Thoughts cascaded through my mind, revolving around whether Affliction was here to stay and whether I had just witnessed the best non-UFC, USA based event in history. Yet, above all else, one question dominated my train of thought: would I be able to find a cab, or was I facing a long walk back to my hotel?

Anaheim is not the most attractive city. The Honda Center is situated near Angel's stadium, some strip malls, and a lot of development sites. My hotel sat on the other side of the 5 freeway. Not far by car, but a healthy walk. The parking lot had emptied, most fans having made a beeline for the exits as soon as the confetti rained over Fedor's parade. I made my way to the main drag and waited. Cars streamed out, the intersection lights changed, yet cabs weren't exactly flocking to the event. Finally, just before I gave up hope, a solitary Yellow cab turned into the arena. I headed for it, arm raised, beating out the Tapout clad frat boys. After getting my destination, my driver (Bob) asked what was going on.

Me: An MMA event, ultimate fighting.

Bob: Oh. I don't like that. I think there's too much violence in the world. You're crazy if you don't think there's too much violence goin' on.

Me: Well, actually, it's more of a sporting event, regulated and monitored…

Bob: You're crazy if you don't think there's too much violence goin' on.

Me: …well, you might be right…

We left it at that. Bob went on to entertain me with tales of life as a cabby (A dancer from Fritz's Cabaret once paid him $100 to take her to LA at 2 a.m.) and his ideas on how to stop police chases (it involved a helicopter with a magnet).

It was an interesting end to an interesting day.

Midday: Arriving at the Arena

I didn't really know what to expect. It was my first MMA event. I think we've all heard horror stories about UFC crowds, about the behavior, bad tattoos and genuine lack of MMA knowledge.

The first thing that caught my eye was the sheer number of gaudy shirts. Tapout, Throwdown, Warrior Wear, and of course Affliction. Now, that's not a value judgement. I think it's too easy to make fun of the pumped up, greased hair, I've-never-rained-a-day-in-my-life crowd that fill LA area nightclubs on a weekly basis.

These were genuine fans expressing their love of MMA the easiest way possible: by donning a ridiculous, over priced, T-shirt. Is that any different than concert goers that happily drop $45 to rep their favorite bands? In fact, the Megadeth shirts being sported by fans were just as bad (or good, depending on how you look at it).

I made my way round back to the "red carpet" entrance, were the media folks were herded in order to pick of their credentials. Herb Dean made a brief appearance, taking photos and signing autographs.

At one point, a burly security woman instructed the crowd that, "no golf balls will be allowed inside the stadium. If you have them in your pockets, return them to your car." That might have been the oddest security announcement I've ever heard at an event. Of course, someone shouted back, "I've got golf balls, but they aren't in my pockets!" I don't think she was amused.

"Media Center"

The arena doors were opened and the throng made it's way inside. Most of us headed to the press conference area, giddy with the promise of "light refreshments and snacks." What we found was a few bowls of popcorn, some pretzels, and folding tables. The more experienced media members, from the big web sites you'd recognize, weren't exactly thrilled. The minnows (myself included) simply grabbed some pretzels. We were sporting bemused, "I'm just happy to be here" looks that separated us from the grizzled vets. Talk centered on the accommodations, the Forrest Griffin judgement (but oddly enough, not Rampage's breakdown), and the rumor that pizza was on the way.

Apparently, some stereotypes of media members are true.

Start of the Show

I anxiously made my way to my seat, worried that I would be behind a pole, behind the stage, 60 rows back. Instead, I was placed stage left, overlooking the fighter's entrance area. Certainly not the best seat in the house, but not terrible. I assume my colleague Bren Oliver snagged the swank location based on MMA seniority. Not that I'm jealous…

The event didn't get off to the greatest start. We sat in confusion as the schedule was changed with no real rhyme or reason. Paul Buentello and Gary Goodrich were introduced, took the ring, and…nothing. The fighters stretched, tried to keep warm, but no one really knew what was going on. Eventually, they were pulled from the ring and shown back behind the curtains. I was terrified that the CSAC curse had struck again, that Goodrich was being pulled at the last minute.

Thankfully, the situation was corrected and the show got under way.

Buentello v. Goodrich

For a fight that that carried low expectations, you have to credit the participants for delivering. Who would have that that Goodrich would have last three rounds? Buentello perhaps made the mistake of fighting a bit too cautiously. There were a few moments when the crowd sensed the finish, but Buentello failed to pull the trigger. Considering that prior to the event, Buentello was seen as a walking dead man, the recipient of an Aleksander Emelianenko beating to come, I'm not going to fault him for securing an important win.

What stood out about live MMA? The size of the fighters, obviously. It helped that this was a heavyweight card, so the average fighter still stood three to eight inches taller than my 6' frame. But even the smaller guys were absolutely huge. Terry Martin is twice as wide as I am, and Gray Maynard, a "small fighter," still looked large.

The sound was another surprise. Unlike the generic UFC audience, Affliction seemed to draw a more knowledgeable and respectful crowd. During the Buentello fight, the crowd was quiet enough that the smack of Goodrich's body kicks reverberated through the arena.

That's not to say the arena resembled a Yokohama crowd. Everyone thinks like a corner man when it comes to MMA. If Buentello isn't listening to his AKA teammates during a fight, I'm not sure what affect some yahoo in section 218 is going to accomplish by screaming, "knees!" every clinch. Yes, you're familiar with Thai fighting, we get it.

As the fight dragged to its conclusion, I was still a bit pessimistic. The crowd was sparse, at best. Technical difficulties prevented us from hearing the post-fight audio, not that we were missing much apparently. While Buentello v. Goodrich was a serviceable opener, it didn't suggest greatness was to come.

Thankfully, my worries were baseless.

Belfort v. Martin

I couldn't believe the reception Belfort received as he entered the ring. Years past a prime that may never have existed, Vitor still carries name recognition among hardcore fans. Anyone doubting Affliction's decision to market itself towards the diehards was corrected during this fight. Terry Martin, a known UFC commodity prominently featured on Spike TV, barely registered with the live crowd. Belfort was the star.

And just as I was compiling my Vitor-hate (sample note, "huge cheers for Vitor. Why???"), the Brazilian delivered the first electrifying moment of the evening. His flying knee garnered a huge "ohh," and his subsequent KO got everyone standing. The media section broke out into cheering. So much for professionalism.

Megadeth: Symphony of Destruction

I mentioned last week that I didn't think Megadeth's appearance was god awful, so long as Affliction handled it right. In person, I don't think the PPV opening could have been done better. The band opened with one of their best songs, some metalheads were rocking out in the pit area in front of the stage, and the sound wasn't deafening. When the main card fighters faced off mid stage, the crowd lost it, culminating in a huge roar for Fedor. Despite his nationality, despite his inactivity, Fedor was by far the biggest star on the card.

The Big Lull

After a stop/star opening, the event finally settled into a rhythm. Antonio Rogerio Nogueira delivered the beat down everyone expected, easily overpowering a bloated Edwin Dewees. Dewees would pop up again and again through the show, sometimes with family in tow. At one point, Dewees rocked out during Megadeth's later set while carrying his small child. It was a nice moment.

Buentello spent the remainder of the evening cruising the floor, soaking up the adulation. He sported a big smile and frequently stopped for pics and handshakes.

Mike Pyle and Mark Hominick each scored impressive victories, but the show was beginning to drag a bit. The anticipation for the main events almost overwhelmed the lesser fights. It was like being at a daylong festival (Ozzfest) when you're mainly there to see the headliner. Sure, additional music is great, but you just can't wait to get to the closing set.

I took a time out to walk the concourse. Aleksander Emelianenko had watched the Buentello fight, probably imagining the multiple ways he would have owned either fighter. Later, we crossed paths, Aleks looking dapper yet intimidating, a statuesque blonde by his side.

Fighters could be seen all over the arena. Vlad Matyushenko, sporting his traditional cap, made the rounds. Ken Shamrock was greeted with a mixed reception as he came out to corner his fighters. Randy Couture was easily the biggest name in attendance, barring the fighters. Every time he came out to corner one of the 42 Extreme Couture fighters on the card, he immediately captured everyone's attention.

When Michael Buffer introduced an eclectic rogue's gallery of celebrities in attendance, Couture overshadowed the likes of Don Johnson, Manny Ramirez, and Donald Trump. In fact, it might just be me, but it looked like Tito Ortiz was a little disappointed that he didn't receive the biggest cheers.

Lindland v. Negao, Sobral v. Whitehead

Yet again, I whiffed on a prediction. I thought Babalu and Mike Whitehead might steal the show. Instead, they drained the life out of the crowd. Sobral entered as the firm fan favorite. The American, Miletich trained fighters played second fiddle to their foreign foes all evening. It was refreshing to see that the fans weren't swayed by nationalism.

Sobral and Whitehead canceled each other out for the most part. Babalu got everyone's attention with an omaplata attempt, but it didn't go anywhere. The fights weren't booed when they hit the mat, but the submission game definitely loses something in translation live.

Matt Lindland was surprised with Fabio Negao's talent, and frankly, so was the audience. Both fighters ate a couple hard shots, but the fight spent too much time in the clinch. Cardio was definitely lacking in both corners.

My section was confused by Lindland's decision to deliver some rapid hammer fists before the ref had finished resetting the action. I'm a convert to the fact that rings make viewing much easier for fans in attendance, but the limitations still outweigh the benefits. At one point, Negao fell out of the ring and loudly struck his head on the platform. In the Babalu fight, it looked like Sobral locked in a couple of chokes as the fighters pushed through the ropes, only to have the fight restarted standing. I don't think the ring altered the outcomes of either fight, but I still hate restarts.

Barnett v. Rizzo

By this point, the crowd had filled to near capacity. Apparently, rumors that unsold tickets had forced Ticketmaster to slash prices in an attempt to boost last minute sales were either incorrect, or embellished. I'm not great at estimating crowd size, but the arena was easily at 95 percent capacity by the last three fights. Unfortunately, the action hadn't quite lived up to hopes.

Barnett and Rizzo put on a traditional heavyweight fight. I'm frequently baffled by promoter's insistences that fans really want to see heavyweight fights. Too often, the fights are slow, plodding affairs, with sporadic bursts of actions spread between long stretches of hugging. Barnett seemed unwilling to fully trade with Rizzo, content to throw a jab without following up. The crowd was getting restless, with the first real boos of the night starting to sound out. I was starting to worry that I had been sent to cover an under whelming event, something more in line with YAMMA. How was I going to write about this? What were the messageboards going to be like?

And just like that, the evening took off.

My girlfriend and I stayed in Anaheim to catch the Sox game the next afternoon, and Barnett's performance reminded me of Vlad Guerrero's. When Vlad comes to bat, you can't look away because any pitch is capable of being deposited a few rows deep in left field. Similarly, despite the sluggish nature of Barnett's fight, you can't lose interest. If you look away, you might miss the

Barnett sent Rizzo crashing to the mat, and the fans took to their feet. I still prefer the sustained action of the lightweights, but the excitement that accompanies a flask KO is undeniable. Barnett scaled the corner posts and played to the crowd, and the fans immediately responded. We had been waiting for something and Barnett delivered. With his chiseled looks, athleticism, and personality, there's no reason to think that Barnett can't become a big star in the States if he commits to Affliction.

Rothwell v. Arlovski

Before the audience could catch its breath, Andrei Arlovski decided to put on the performance of the night. Up until this point, the UFC could truly say they hadn't lost a huge star. Unfortunately, Andrei decided to recapture his old intensity, and reminded fans why he deserves to be a top ten heavyweight. His speed was outstanding. He put on a clinic in striking. His flying knee generated the same big "oohs" and "ahhs" with every replay. He almost made the guy in front of me look like a genius, dropping down twice for a leg lock.

Ben Rothwell has to be credited with surviving a ton of punishment. Arlovski landed several flurries that looked like the end. Rothwell persevered, and even landed some huge elbows that looked very painful in person. In the end, Rothwell was rewarded with a highlight reel KO, one that almost featured a Flair flop.

It's easy to overrate a fighter's last appearance, especially one you're in person for. But this incarnation of Andrei Arlovski is easily the best we've seen. Rothwell has to be viewed as a better challenger than Cabbage, Matyushenko, and Buentello, yet Arlovski totally outclassed the former IFC champ. Fedor would answer his critics later and reaffirm his otherworldliness. But Arlovski placed himself back in the conversation about which heavyweight will finally drop the Russian.

Fedor's Crowning Achievement

After a third Megadeth set that proved to be one too many, the main event got underway. I felt bad for Sylvia as he walked the plank. The crowd was a tad belligerent (I'm not sure that, "You suck Timmy" is really the last thing a fighter needs to hear before facing the top ranked heavyweight) and Sylvia spent several minutes alone waiting for the go ahead to make his way to the ring. What doubts were running through his head?

Fedor took the stage looking stoic as ever. He received a thunderous standing ovation that lasted through the fighter introductions and ref instructions. As the fight kicked off, some sections retook their seats. My area remained standing, waiting to see if the opening moments would bring firework.

We all know how that ended.

If I was at home, having paid money largely based on the main event, I might have been upset about the quick finish. I know I was left slightly unfulfilled after Rampage's flash KO over Liddell. In this case, I think everyone in attendance was simply beside themselves with how quickly Fedor dismantled a former UFC champion.

As we made our way back to the press conference area, everyone was giddy. I don't know how poorly the event played on PPV, but I think everyone in attendance left happy. The last three fights elevated the night to an in my book. Spared the lackluster play-by-play, the poor picture quality, and the terrible pacing, I fully enjoyed myself.

Conclusion

In the end, I missed out on the controversy. I was surprised when I got home Sunday night to find that the blogosphere didn't share my excitement. I was disappointed that conversations of the event focused on the metal aspects in a negative way. I don't really have anything to add about whether Affliction is a real challenge to the UFC throne, or whether fans wasted their cash on a shoddy PPV. I just know that I had an amazing time. The night had its faults, but what event doesn't? Those in attendance can say they say the world's best heavyweight, and arguably the world's best fighter at his absolute best.

In the end, that's something I'll carry with me long after the complaints and criticism fade away.