TONIGHT!!
Lightweights collide as talented Frank Edgar does battle with boring-as-all-hell
Sean Sherk! (Too bad they don't make steroids that beef up your charisma.)
TONIGHT!!
A guy that's lost two fights in a row takes on a guy that lost at last month's PPV!
Why? Nobody knows!
TONIGHT!!
Matt Hughes and Matt Serra finally settle their, grueling, epic rivalry.two years
after either competitor has been relevant!
TONIGHT!!
And in our May 23, 1994 WCW Saturday Night main event: Too Cold Scorpio defends the
WCW World Heavyweight Championship against Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat! TONIGHT!!
Ahem.well, that's the hard sell for UFC 98, or considering the staggering number
of injuries that have accumulated prior to the event, "Macbeth 2: The Reckoning". Fortunately, there shan't be any regicide
or animated trees in tonight's gala. I think, anyway.
As always, we are coming to you ALIVE from the quaint and cozy Sidelines Grille in
picturesque Acworth, Ga. (FUN FACT: Didja know that Sleepaway Camp II AND III were both filmed here?) Why that shit isn't
on the city seal is beyond my comprehension.
Don't cry, don't raise your eyes, it's only a late spring pay-per-view fusion combat
sporting event. Oh, yeah, that equates teen angst, all right.
Our play by play is, of course, from a Jew and that guy that was on NewsRadio. No,
not Phil Hartman. He's dead, although to be fair, a decades- old corpse could probably provide more accurate insight than
old Mikey here.
I'm not going to lie to you folks, I'm doing this recap thing here under the influence
of about nineteen different mind-altering substances, but I have good reason. Why is that, prey tell? Because Sean "More boring
than white bread with a glass of water on the side for dipping" Sherk is curtain jerking tonight. Shit, that's enough to get
Ian Mackaye to snort a line and order a double beef cheeseburger, my fellow fighting comrades.
LIGHTWEIGHT BOUT:
Sean Sherk vs. Frank Edgar
Sean Sherk is probably the most dominant lightweight in UFC history. Of course, this
doesn't mean he's a better fighter than luminaries like BJ Penn, Caol Uno or Jens Pulver, it's just that he's the only guy
that sticks around the company for prolonged amounts of time. Hey, shit always rises to the top, am I right, folks?
Frank Edgar, conversely, is 4 for 5 in UFC competition, and kind of awesome. Granted,
it is somewhat unprofessional to root against a competitor in one of these recaps, but let's take a gander at some honest-to-God,
earnest facts about Sherk's existence.
Sherk Fact #1: In six UFC bouts, Sean has YET to finish an opponent.
Sherk Fact #2: His nickname is "The Muscle Shark".
Sherk Fact #3: He was stripped of the UFC Lightweight Championship after testing
positive for anabolics.
Sherk Fact #4: He openly admits to eating baby food. No, seriously.
Therefore, it's logistically impossible to pull for Sean. Seriously, that guy's a
real piece of Sherk.
Round 1:
Pretty mundane stuff here, with Sherk and Edgar basically playing make-belief boxing
for five minutes. Hell, if they wanted to do that, they just should've went out and played that new Punch-Out game on the
Nintendo machine. Hell, I'd rather be pummeling the fuck out of cartoony ethnic stereotypes myself.
Round 2:
Yeah, I missed this round. So sue me. Anyway, there's something beautiful about a
gentle rain on a Saturday evening in the metro Atlanta area. The amalgamated scent of car exhaust and barbequed pork, notwithstanding.
Round 3:
I returned to the venue just in time to hear the verdict: Edgar wins it by decision,
according to random lip-pierced patron #1. Hey, why should I not vouch for the validity of some guy I've never met before
wearing a forty dollar Affliction shirt? That's right, I shouldn't. Winner: Frankie Edgar, Decision (Unanimous)
Post-bout, Sean is pouting about. Yeah, I would be too, if I was Sean. Just in general,
the asshole could win forty fights in a row, make two mil per bout and have a mansion erected on Poontang Street and I still
wouldn't want to swap shoes with him. JUSTICE, IT IS SERVED.
Time for some middleweight action, no?
MIDDLEWEIGHT BOUT:
Dan Miller vs. Chael Sonnen
All you need to know is that Dan Miller is 3-0 in the Octagon (which is a trademark
term registered by Zuffa, Inc, if you can believe it) and Sonnen . . . uh, isn't. In fact, Chael sports an antithetical 0-3
record in UFC play, which, in some sort of manner, makes Chael Sonnen the BIZARRO DAN MILLER. Maybe that means he'll try for
a hook heel or bar arm, huh?
Round 1:
OK, here's the setup: If Miller wins, he gets to fight like two or three more fights
and maybe, just maybe, he'll get a shot at Andersen Silva before his contract expires. If he loses, BACK TO THE BREAKROOM
AT BENIHANA'S FOR YOU. Sonnen, antithetically, has nothing to lose, but in reality, has nothing to win, either, because it
the end of the day, he still has to go home, look in the mirror, and begrudgingly accept the fact that he is, indeed , Chael
Sonnen. That must be so hard on his kids.
D'OH! Right off the bat, Chael walks RIGHT INTO a guillotine choke. Seriously folks,
as if he shouted "OK DAN, I'M GOING TO RUN STRAIGHT AT YOU WITH THE CROWN OF MY NOGGIN. NOW, OPEN YOUR LEFT ARM IN A VICE
LIKE MANNER AND EXTEND YOUR RIGHT ARM INTO LEVYING POSITION AND CATCH ME WITH THE ADJACENT MITT. BOY, I SURE HOPE NOTHING
BAD TRANSITIONS AS A RESULT." What's truly astonishing is the notion that he ACTUALLY got out of the choke. Wow. After that,
it's all rolling about on the ground, with a couple of elbows raining down like, uh, rain. Got to give that round to Chael,
believe it or not.
Round 2:
Well, as it turns out, my date for the evening has gone missing. Oh well, what's
the worst that can happen, right? Damn, these are some good quesadillas. Quesadillas that cost $8.50 a plate, but a dignified,
refined sport such as cage fighting lends itself to more lavish tendencies, no? I type that as I sip wine from the reign of
Napoleon in a chalice made of solid gold while concubines massage my toes. Oh, the luxurious life of an Internet writer! Just
saying, but our waitress tonight is really, really freaking hot. Like I said, just saying, just saying. Huh, Chael goes for
a guillotine of his own accord, but just can't sink it in deep enough. After that, it's basically ground and.well, actually,
just ground, because the most aggressive thing Sonnen is doing at this point is rubbing his elbow over Dan's mouth so he can't
breathe. So, elbows on a downed opponent or foot stamping is illegal, but smothering a mother fucker is A-OK? Whatever, Ultimate
Fighting Championship, whatever. Begrudgingly, Sonnen's round.
Round 3:
Wow, the last round was boring as all get-out. Total nonstop inaction, and Sonnen
wins it by proxy via doing a lot less doing less than Miller. A disappointing fight, to say the least. (It also sucked.)
Winner: Sonnen, Decision (unanimous)
Now, unto two other guys that probably won't have a job this time next year.
MIDDLEWEIGHT BOUT:
Drew McFedries vs. Xavier Foupa-Pokam
THIS. FIGHT. MAKES. NO. FREAKING. SENSE. AT. ALL. WHATSOEVER.
OK, I understand that this bout was, originally, supposed to be nothing more than
a showcase for the recently miniaturized James Irvin to look kind of impressive against the 3-4 McFedries. Than, of course,
Irvin pulls out of the show (because he doesn't want to get it pregnant, I can only assume) and of all people. XAVIER FOUPA-POKAM
steps up to the proverbial plate to pad the show. Now, I know what you're thinking: "Uh, James, didn't this Poupa fella' fight
at last month's PPV?" Why, sincere reader, he did. "Uh, James, didn't he also lose that fight a month ago?" Once again, you
are righty-oh. "So why in the mauve fuck is this circle jerk getting another crack at the big time?" To answer, I state merely
this:
I have NO effing clue.
ROUND 1:
XFP gets his ASS handed to him by Drew. Cage opens, Feds unloads three shots, and
the Frenchmen goes down like (insert own pertinent reference to connilingus). Post-bout, Drew celebrates as if he just KTFO
of some overrated transient cage fighter..because, I guess in a round about manner, that's precisely what he just accomplished.
Winner: McFedries, TKO (Punches), 0:37
Mike Tyson is in the house! Unfortunately, the whereabouts of Soda Popinski are still
unknown at the present. Late December 2007 just called, and wants us to have a chat. Hey, it only took eighteen months, but
we are FINALLY getting our main event for UFC 79. Progress, Holmes, progress.
WELTERWEIGHT BOUT:
Matt Hughes vs. Matt Serra
For what it's worth, this is a bout that, more than likely, will suck, but at least
it'll be historic. You know, like Liddell's going-away ass-kicking from last month's show. These two guys were involved in
an embittered, hostile, TOTALLY NOT AT ALL MANUFACTURED RIVALRY THAT WAS CONCOCTED FOR A REALITY TELEVISION SERIES. Nope,
not in the slightest. Anyway, the payoff was SUPPOSED to be the main event at UFC 79. . . which was in December. . . of 2007.
Yeah, nothing like reheating the leftovers from the month that provided us with I Am Legend and The Dewey Cox Story. In the
interim, Matt S. showed his mental toughness by getting that dogshit beat out of him by Georges St. Pierre and Matt H. heroically
followed suit by getting his ass pounded by Thiago Alves. So, yeah, there's not as much riding on the line for this one as
was originally planned.
Now, I am no soothsayer, but I'll eat a giraffe's scrotum if this ISN'T Matt Hughes'
final fight. Truth be told, this is probably the second or third to last fight of Serra's career as well, so this bout is,
veritably, the MMA equivalent of watching two aged, beaten-down zebras fight to the death before the ensuing lions pick apart
their bones like taffy. Wow, that's totally not depressing in the slightest.
ROUND 1:
Serra out to the theme from Rocky (Bill Conti FTW!) and Hughes strolls to Bocephus.
BAM! Serra hits Hughes with the loaded head butt, and Hughes is HURT! Scoop and a slam, and Serra is teeing off on Hughes'
mug. Hughes pops back up and is bleeding from his right eye. Hughes gores Serra into the cage, throws some knees, and locks
in a rear naked choke as Serra scurries out of the dire predicament as the opening round horn sounds. Most entertaining aspect
of the night, so far.
ROUND 2:
Hey, if anybody has seen a short blonde girl, age 21, about 5'1, could you please
return her to the front desk? OK, thanks. Nowhere near as exciting as the first round. Serra looks gassed, and Hughes (known
for his damned impressive conditioning) is beginning to take the upper hand. Hughes works the ribs, and Serra responds by
doing. absolutely nothing. The round ends with Serra on all fours breathing exasperated breathes to his corner man.
ROUND 3:
An 85 dollar bill! These better be the best damn cheese nachos of all time.all right,
you got lucky. This time. More floor level boring-ness, until the last 90 seconds, in which the ref FINALLY stands both fighters
up. Stand still at the end of the round, this one could go either way.
WINNER: Matt Hughes, Decision (unanimous)
Post-bout, Hughes states that he has one last fight in him. Hughes-GSP 4? Why the
hell not (A: because Hughes would get killed in the ring, that's why.)
Serra is such a ham. If your local High School drama department is looking for a
character actor, ring this mother fucker up something wicked.
In case anybody is wondering, Balrog will be taking on Blanka in tonight's concluding
act.
UFC LIGHT HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP BOUT: Rashad Evans (Champion) vs. Lyoto Machida
(Challenger)
This.should be pretty interesting. For one, both guys are undefeated, and are top
twenty IN THE WORLD, man. Secondly, it's for the promotion's marquee title. Thirdly, both guys are actually renowned for their
fighting ability as opposed to marketability. Fourthly, both guys carry distinct fighting styles; Champion Evans is a thinking
man's striker, whereas Challenger Machida is a determined, viper-fast ground technician. Basically, this fight has all of
the elements that should make for an awesome, non-sucky title bout. But then again, so did Silva \ Leites, and we all know
how that one turned out. And one last thing: Machida drinks his own piss for breakfast, claiming it gives him special karate
powers. Folks, I swear, I am NOT making that last one up.
ROUND 1:
Machida comes out wearing the Royce Gracie special (Brazilian Gi and baseball cap)
and slapping fans hands like a late 80s super-face. He also elected to come out to the strings of Linkin Park. Hmm.mixed feelings
on that one. Rashad is out to rap-sounding music. Yes, I'm the whitest person on the planet, I know. Hey, is Coolio still
making music? That African-American had the mad skill-uz, as you "brothers" would say. Not much action at first. In fact,
for about two minutes, we get some circling that is dangerously close to encroaching upon Silva / Leites levels of inactivity,
so color me perturbed. Machida scores the 2X multiplier by landing the first hit of the fight. Punch, kick, Evans misses a
jab and Machida is whupping that ass Jackie Chan style. Evans goes down like the Titanic, and Machida lets him up as time
expires. ALL Machida in this one.
ROUND 2:
OK, to the bitches sitting behind us; your friend wants to dance, and my gal pal
likewise wants to dance. Why the hell are you anchoring her down? This is a social environment, and camaraderie is a necessity.
Shit, it's not like we are at a library, or another place where inordinate amounts of silence permeate the air levels. You
know, like the cheering section for Sean Sherk appearance. HI-YO! AND MACHIDA DROPS HIM! Unloading with some kicks and punches,
Lyoto amps up an uppercut and drops Evans like a sack of potatoes. A NEW CHAMPION HAS BEEN CROWNED! (that also drinks his
own urine).
Winner: Machida, KO, Punch, 3:57
Post-bout, Lyoto straps on the big gold belt and reminds everyone at home that "Karate
is back." Officially!
THE VERDICT:
This was pretty much a forgettable show, and likewise, I am somewhat glad that I
can't, in a functional sense, remember it. It's noteworthy for Machida's title win and maybe the last hurrah of Hughes career,
but beyond that.this was a fairly lackluster event. Way underwhelming from my perspective.
SHOW HIGHLIGHT: Either the first round of Hughes / Serra or the Machida KO.
SHOW LOWLIGHT: SHERK!
Rogan-ism of the night: Too busy imbibing cheese and or making out to take note.
Five Things I Learned From Tonight's Show:
(X) If all else fails, god damn, does Sean Sherk suck.
(X) Time to hang 'em up, Poupa Foukam.
(X) It's a lot easier to get out of choke hold if you don't run into the guy's open
grip like a retard.
(X) Stating to a girl "You're not from (insert state), are you" is like an automatic
aphrodisiac to the general female populace.
(X) Maybe we should ALL drink our own pee-pee from here on out.
That's all I've got. Crank up "Fishing" by Superchunk and "Holy Water" by Soundgarden
and I'll be seeing you at 100.
Locking it up,UFC 98
A young middleweight up and comer gets to cut his teeth on a disgraced
WEC ex-champ! (Because Yushin Okami can't hit a punching beg without tearing a quadricep!)
Your friendly neighborhood J. Swift
TWF FLASHBACK
November 2006
SATIRE: DISCONTINUED WWE XMAS PRODUCTS!
With Christmas just around the corner, what better way to spend your few remaining dollars (left over after the seemingly infinite line-up of fucking pay-per-views ) then on the following "quality WWE merchandise!" After all, if they don't move this stuff, and fast, stockholders just might get time to figure out what "plummeting domestic buyrates" means!... and well, I don't think they need to tell you what that means! (Seriously. They're not telling you. Everything is fine! Ahem.).
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