I enjoy watching reruns of UFC Unleashed. This is due to the fact that, for whatever reason, the DVR description of the episodes no longer informs us what fights we will be watching. You never know what you’re going to get. You might get something deplorable (“Cooooming up next, it’s the Ortiz-Shamrock trilogy! With ALL of the prefight promo packages!”) or something awesome (any fight where Brock Lesnar turtles up and gets pummeled). It’s a roll of the dice.

Bear in mind, I despise listening to the radio. Not only that, but with the present internet culture that is ripe with podcasts and programs that allow you to listen to whatever music you want, whenever you want, I’m baffled as to how terrestrial radio is even still in existence. Why would I allow someone to dictate what I listen to?

However, I love pretty much all MMA. Terrible MMA is great, as long as it isn’t being perceived as good. So my spectrum of taste is pretty broad. To give you an example, I recently watched 620 pound Manny Yarborough (the guy best known for being walloped by the immortal Keith Hackney at UFC 2) record his first and only MMA victory, taking out pudgy, mulleted self parody Tatsuaki Nakano by “smother”. It was just as delightful as you could possibly imagine. The fact that I sincerely believe that it was delightful is a cry for help. I’m aware of this.

Let’s roll the dice with a column. I recorded a rerun of Unleashed, and I’m going to write about whatever fights happen to be on it. I have no idea what I’m about to see. Think of it as an exercise … that I’m inexplicably sharing with the internet. Ready, internet? Let’s see what’s behind Door Number 1 …

Our first fight is … *drumroll* …

Joe Stevenson vs. Spencer Fisher

Alright. A fight I haven’t seen in awhile. This is what I was hoping for. Stevenson begins the fight by smiling and bouncing around like he just got laid. Joe Daddy was always pretty smooth on the feet with his footwork and feints, but he’s one of those guys that just never quite had enough output to be considered a dangerous striker. Then he got T-Boned by a Mac Danzig left hook and hasn’t been right since.

Before the start of this fight, Spencer waves off the “lets touch gloves” offer by Joe at least 3 times, as though Joe had AIDS and Spencer mistakenly thought it could be transmitted through UFC gloves. You sure made your point, Spencer. You don’t want to touch gloves. Anyway, Joe is taking the occasional Fisher leg kick while boxing nicely and takes the 1st round after taking the back towards the end. Spencer is cut, just like always. We’ve got a bleeder!

Both men come out boxing to start the second frame, and Stevenson changes levels for the takedown when he sees fit. Spencer looks old, and this fight happened almost 4 years ago. Stevenson works on top for awhile before securing the feared mounted crucifix position. He proceeds to drop 11 rapid fire elbows onto the already sliced up dome of Fisher, and that’s the fight. Fisher appeared to tap with his leg.

Fights like this pose an interesting question (at least, to a clown like me): When you think of a fighter, what is the first mental image that your brain conjures up about that fighter? I mean, Stevenson and Fisher are both guys that haven’t existed in the part of my MMA fan brain that thinks about relevant MMA topics and fighters in a long time. Stevenson’s octagon glory days are long gone, and Fisher is hanging on by a thread of a thread. They exist only in my memory. So what pops into your head, dear reader?

When I think of Stevenson, I think of him getting beaten by Danzig, and I think of him bathing in his own blood and tears against BJ Penn. When I think of Fisher, I think of the flying knee knockout against Wiman. And yet, I wouldn’t say that I respected Fisher or even enjoyed watching him fight more than Joe Stevenson. Goes to show that different parts of our brains don’t always agree with each other. An interesting thought.

Which brings us to fight number two …

Tito Ortiz vs. Forrest Griffin II

Oh geez. Look, I’m not opposed to writing about this fight, even though these two are far from being the fighters I most revere. But did they have to show the entire prefight promo package? Talk about a column killer. Here I was, thinking that this would be a good writing exercise, with the potential to force me into writing about multiple fights I never would have written about otherwise. And what do I get? A lightweight fight that wasn’t even that relevant four years ago and 5 minutes of two awkward weirdos saying tough guy things into the camera, followed by a lengthy commercial break. At least at the end of the commercial break, I’ll get to watch a great fight! Hey, wait …

Snarkiness aside, this 2nd installment in the money grubbing trilogy was pretty much a microcosm of Tito Ortiz. Get a takedown, ground and pound from guard, get tired, stiffen up, stiffen up some more, stiffen up to the point that you stop doing anything, and lose a decision.

I remember watching this fight at a Buffalo Wild Wings with a bunch of people who invited me out to watch some fights. Cool, right? Think again. This was one of those evenings consisting of people chilling out on their respective phones and resisting any actual human interaction. I think I actually fell asleep during the 3rd round. I stopped hanging out with people like that. It’s just incredibly boring.

I’ve always been fascinated by the rabid fanbase of Tito Ortiz. Nobody did more with flame shorts and bleached hair. In the midst of multiple fight losing streaks where he often got tired and didn’t do anything, his fans would still come out in droves. “That guy is a badass”, they’d tell you. My theory is that Tito became popular right around the whole nu metal era of the UFC, where every fighter would come out to Stemm or Limp Bizkit, where tons of UFC fans were also pro wrestling fans, and what better poster boy for that sort of foolishness than a brash, blond meanie who flipped the bird and had a wrestling base?

My favorite part of this fight was right after it was over. Griffin and Ortiz embraced, and Goldberg said “great show of respect by both men”. Based on the personalities of these two, what are the odds that they were actually saying something respectful? 50 to 1? 100 to 1? Come on. They were saying some prison yard shit to each other. You all know it.

I will be writing and opining about things that matter soon. Calories burned. Exercise over.

Antonio Rodrigo “Minotauro” Nogueira refuses to fade into irrelevancy. The guy has enough tales in and out of the ring to regale his future grandkids for days. In the history of MMA, you’d be hard pressed to select a fighter that has taken more damage and still kept fighting. Now, if you’d never heard of Rodrigo Nogueira, you might look at that last sentence as a subtle plea to Nog to hang them up. Nonsense! I would never say that about a guy who has examined his shortcomings, reinvented himself as a destructive boxer, inexplicably got tatted up in his late 30′s, and stayed in the heavyweight division’s top 10 longer than Family Guy has been on the air. He just wont go away. So why do people keep expecting him to?

I wrote that paragraph before Rodrigo lost to Fabricio Werdum via second round armbar last Saturday, and my thoughts towards him haven’t changed. I mean, realistically, he shouldn’t even be fighting at all. Who would have thought that, examining the fabled “big three” from the PRIDE days (Fedor, Cro Cop, and Nog), Nogueira would be the last man standing? It’s unfathomable.

Before I go off on an overly grandiose tangent about how highly I view Nogueira (who I somehow have never written a piece about, and I’ve been writing about MMA on and off for like 6 years), let’s recap the Werdum rematch. Their first fight in 2006 saw Nogueira best Werdum with better standup, dropping the bigger man twice with punches. Werdum was also perplexed by Nog’s ability to scramble, as he was unable to hold any sort of advantageous ground position. In one of the best performances of his career, Nogueira won by unanimous decision.

More than anything else, Werdum is much better as a standup fighter now. He’s never going to box guys up like Junior Dos Santos or anything, but he can at least throw heavy kicks and knees without fear of defensive liabilities coming back to bite him in the ass. He did this well against Nogueira, as he thwarted any real success by kicking his legs and taking him down from the clinch (where Werdum is an excellent wrestler).

The beginning of the end for Nogueira was when he inexplicably dropped for a guillotine against one of the greatest submission grapplers who ever lived. He has a bad recent habit of going for submissions that lead to him getting a limb ripped off. Back in the day, he might have been quick enough to scramble out of trouble, but not now. He got beaten by a better grappler.

After all the damage and all the beatings, and after he finally got stopped a few times, there still aren’t 10 heavyweights better than Rodrigo. What I find so interesting about the way his career has unfolded is that, at various points, he’s been a completely different fighter strategy-wise. He’s had like 3 separate careers.

The first was the “I’m purely a jiu-jitsu guy and I’m going to submit you immediately, and what the hell, it’s RINGS, what am I going to do, ground and pound you?” era (1999-2001). This stretch saw him submit a bunch of jokers from a pretty archaic time in MMA history (David Dodd, Achmed Labasanov, Nate Schroeder), culminating in him tapping Valentijn Overeem twice. Remember, Overeem was considered a top ten heavyweight at the time, but has since been submitted roughly 395 times by worse grapplers than me. Rodrigo went 11-1-1 in RINGS.

The second phase was the PRIDE era, which began with watershed performances against Gary Goodridge (never got off a punch), Mark Coleman (punched him in the face then tied him up in a sailors knot), Heath Herring (a drubbing), and Enson Inoue (choked him sleepy as one of Inoue’s cornermen ran into the ring and pushed the referee out of the way for absolutely no reason at all).

After these 4 fights, Nog’s battles began to take a different tone. Even though he kept winning and winning, he developed a knack for making subpar fighters look better than they actually were. The main reason was that he would essentially allow guys to take him down because he believed in his jiu-jitsu so much. While this belief was ultimately warranted, it did lead to him taking unnecessary punches and slams from Bob Sapp (on an 11 fight losing streak) and Hirotaka Yokoi (who is Hirotaka Yokoi). This dynamic admittedly lead to some of the greatest displays of resiliency we’ve ever seen (I still can’t believe some of the punches he took from Fedor Emelianenko didn’t knock him senseless), and one of the best comebacks ever (the Cro Cop armbar). But still. Antonio was never knocked out in his stretch, which meant that he was getting hit tons and tons of times without the fight being stopped. It’s unclear to me whether or not this has more serious long term effects than just getting knocked out over and over, but still. It can’t be good. Nog went 17-3 in PRIDE.

The third phase of his career is, without question, the one most resembling a roller coaster ride. His tenure in the UFC has seen him suffer his first knockout loss, his first submission loss, and his first “I was winning that fight, right up until I lost it” loss. It has seen him experience incredible highs (winning the UFC heavyweight title against Tim Sylvia, destroying Randy Couture in front of Couture’s hometown crowd, knocking out Brendan Schaub in Brazil after most people had written him off), and devastating lows (getting flattened by Cain Velasquez, having his arm ripped off by Frank Mir in a fight he was winning handily).

Here’s a theory. Doesn’t it seem like, since he’s been through a few stoppage losses and ego-shattering tapouts, that he’s just going for broke? The only real success he’s having in these recent fights is with his boxing, both inside and outside. It’s gotten to the point that going for submissions is probably a bad idea for him, unless it’s against a novice like Dave Herman. I just wrote that it’s a bad idea for Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira to go for submissions, and you kept reading without batting an eyelash. It’s true.

Minotauro is 37 years old. He’s coming off a loss, and the loss had nothing to do with the damage his head has accumulated throughout his career. He lost because his opponent is a better fighter than him. Then again, Werdum also might be next in line for a title shot. So the question is this: How much longer can Rodrigo fight at a reasonably high level? His jiu-jitsu is no longer his saving grace, and he’s slowing down noticeably.

He’s fighting on borrowed time, but he’s making the most of it. I could never imagine him fighting the Sean McCorkle’s and the Pedro Rizzo’s of the world, so the hope is that he walks away with dignity. I realize that this article is little more than a gushing, rambling piece of pro-Rodrigo propaganda, but I wanted to write about him before he hangs them up, to capture this specific moment in his career. I love the guy.

Check it out, guys! It’s the column in which I get to talk about Mark Richard Hunt fighting in a title eliminator! … In 2013. In the UFC. It’s all true. I’m overjoyed.

Donald Cerrone vs. KJ Noons

What a nightmare this matchup is for the many hairstyles of KJ Noons. Good God. Noons can box, and is a better MMA striker than he was when he first started, but he’s no match for Cerrone in the standup department. I was always baffled by the assumption that because Noons was a pro boxer, he would rip dudes up on the feet in MMA. This guy never accomplished anything significant as a pro boxer. Cerrone can hit him with kicks, punch him from distance, and really open up with any strike he needs to because he doesn’t have to worry about Noons taking him down.

If he does have trouble with Noons standing, I could actually see Cerrone pulling guard here, as his bottom game is excellent, varied, and aggressive.

I gotta be honest: I can’t think of KJ Noons without mentally picturing him getting knocked out by Charles “Krazy Horse” Bennett. It’s just one of those KO’s that’s permanently burned into my brain, like A Clockwork Orange or something.

(Other examples: Pete Williams kicking Mark Coleman in the face; Robbie Lawler stretchering a decrepit Matt Lindland; Stefan Struve pounding on Christian Morecraft’s face at least 7 times more than necessary; and of course, Quinton Jackson falling through the ropes)

Cerrone by submission, third round.

TJ Grant vs. Gray Maynard

I get this overwhelming feeling that the fight game has passed by Gray Maynard. This is obviously going to be perceived as a borderline insane thing to say about a guy with one career loss (as well as someone who is looked at as a perennial contender), but I can back this theory up.

The first problem is plain: Inactivity. He’s fought only three times since 2010, going 1-1-1. The first was the famous draw with Frank Edgar (which he arguably lost), the second was Edgar knocking him out and sending his mop of hair skittering across the octagon, and the third was a narrow win over Clay Guida in a fight that everyone hated (which wasn’t totally his fault, but still).

The bigger problem is that he never became a truly well rounded fighter. He’s a dangerous puncher, but he doesn’t really throw combos. He’s a good wrestler, but there are better ones out there at 155. Plus, check out his UFC resume and notice how many subpar wrestlers there are on the list. Simply put, he’s a fighter that hasn’t been able to adapt to being in any position. He looks to land haymakers, and if that fails, he’s pretty much a fish out of water on the feet.

TJ Grant is far from being a great wrestler himself, but he’s really reinvented himself at lightweight. His striking game has gone from “I can’t remember a single nice moment this guy has had on his feet” to “Holy shit, this guy suddenly has tons of weapons and throws all of them at will”. The way he took out the always-tough Matt Wiman was highlight reel stuff.

If Maynard wins this, it will be with takedowns and top control. I don’t see him having very much success on the feet with Grant, who can strike in any situation. I can definitely envision Grant countering those big Maynard swings with sharp hooks. Maynard is difficult to finish, but I think Grant will outpoint Maynard on the feet after being taken down a few times. Grant by decision.

Glover Teixeira vs. James Te Huna

I have gone insane. I have lost my marbles. I have been separated from my faculties. Why? Because I kinda sorta like Jamie Te Huna here. A little bit.

Glover Teixeira is a more diverse striker than James, but he’s also a bit clunkier and robotic. There are lots of similarities between these two. Both are big bruisers. Both are devastating wrestlers with excellent ground and pound. Both will never grow their hair longer than 1/2 an inch. Most importantly, both are good fighters that are pretty evenly matched here, even though I’m sure the public sees the fight pretty clearly in Teixeira’s favor.

If Te Huna can take Glover deep into this fight, he could really beat the gas tank out of him, especially if he can score a takedown and get on top. This is not likely, but also not out of the question. I just feel like this is a matchup that both guys could find success in. I see Glover beating Te Huna on the feet but possibly faltering on the ground a bit. Glover by split decision.

Junior dos Santos vs. Mark Hunt

I bet Sean McCorkle’s friends have heard about his fight with Mark Hunt at least 2,104 times.

“Jesus, Sean, we get it. You threw a straight armbar that would make a white belt laugh onto a guy who didn’t care. Congrats. Now shut up and go back to kicking old drunk guys out of the bar.”

I haven’t been this excited for a fight in awhile. I love everything about this fight; both combatants, the title implications, the style matchup, the contrast in body types (which happens pretty much every time Hunt fights), everything. More than anything, I love the questions that could potentially be answered by the time this one is over.

Will Junior be a bit gunshy after his one sided loss to Cain Velasquez, in which he was dropped badly with a right hand? Doubtful. Dos Santos was in retreat mode that entire fight because he didn’t want to be taken down, not because he didn’t want to box. What will the exchanges look like? It’s hard to say. Both men leave themselves open, but Dos Santos leaves his head straight up in the air, and it’s not difficult to imagine Hunt finding a home for that overhand right or that winging left hook on JDS’s stationary dome.

This fight will be most likely played out on the feet, as JDS has a penchant to box. I wouldn’t be shocked to see Hunt go for a takedown or two, but this is just two big guys throwing high quality leather at one another.

Honestly, I don’t even care what happens in this fight. I want to see it. I wish it was starting right now. Just know that the result of this fight will either A) see Mark Hunt penciled in for a shot at the UFC heavyweight title or B) set up the third fight in one of the most compelling MMA trilogies ever. Dos Santos should be able to do damage to Hunt’s body and head, though I foresee both men harming one another. I’m going with Dos Santos by decision.

Which brings me to …

Cain Velasquez vs. Antonio Silva

Let me begin by saying that I am genuinely happy that Antonio Silva is getting this shot at Cain Velasquez’s belt. It certainly isn’t the fight that I thought Zuffa would make, since the Junior-Cain rivalry is now tied at 1. But I’m glad the unappreciated Bigfoot gets his chance to shine.

Let me conclude by saying that I think he will be absolutely pasted by Cain Velasquez. Again.

You could name every heavyweight that ever lived and not find a worse matchup for Bigfoot than Cain. He can’t compete with him on the feet because Cain throws fast, accurate combos that are sure to ding up that giant, stationary head of his; he can’t compete with him in the wrestling department because he simply isn’t quick enough to get out of the way of Cain’s bumrushing takedowns; and he definitely can’t compete with him on the floor, because his stomach isn’t going to agree with the 8,000 hammerfists that Cain is going to cram into his face.

The only way (repeat: the ONLY way) I could talk myself into this being a competitive fight is if Silva can find a way to land standing strikes on Velasquez. Cain is still somewhat hittable, especially with the way he unabashedly runs in for takedowns. It isn’t inconceivable that Bigfoot could land a knee or drop him with a punch coming in, as Cheick Kongo was able to do all those years ago.

But still, homerun KO shot aside, what’s he going to do if he does land strikes? He’s going to get taken down, and he’s going to be beaten on like a cheap bongo in an awkward drum circle. Bigfoot Silva has a good top game, but on the bottom, he’s simply too immobile to be a threat. Plain and simple, I see another drubbing occurring here. This one wont make the championship rounds, as Cain blasts Bigfoot out of there with strikes towards the end of the second round.