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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!)


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.)


A guy that's lost two fights in a row takes on a guy that lost at last month's PPV! Why? Nobody knows!


Matt Hughes and Matt Serra finally settle their, grueling, epic rivalry.two years after either competitor has been relevant!


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.


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?


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.


Drew McFedries vs. Xavier Foupa-Pokam


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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!


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.


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,
Your friendly neighborhood J. Swift


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November 2006


by Sean Carless

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.).