The best line of the current season of Entourage was Johnny Drama’s dismissive “what’s a Chuck Lidell?” Well thanks to a massive media barrage, tonight folks found out. And they simultaneously found out why UFC isn’t like anything you’ve seen before.
Tonight’s festivities opened with a trip to the Mall 205 Hooters to watch the fight and get warmed up for my own main attraction. I have yet to have a good experience at any of the probably half-dozen Hooters I’ve visited around the country. The food, as everyone knows, is mediocre. But going to Hooters for the food is like going to Vegas to gamble. It’s totally not the point. You go to Hooters for the waitresses. And for some reason they always make themselves scarce when I’m around. I have no idea why.
It really wasn’t their fault tonight. The place was jammed to the gills with guys watching the card. I ended up standing next to the greeter station and watched the entire match without the benefit of alcohol. Which is fine. Amanda kept me company for most of the evening by sitting up on the counter and giving me an occasional look at her very stressed out breasts. The rest of the girls were equally hot. Although the uniform seems to be evolving. About half were wearing black outfits rather than the traditional orange shorts and white tank tops. Maybe the blac uniform signified something. Obviously more research is required.
Speaking of iconic uniforms. There’s a Hot Dog On A Stick at Lloyd Center. I was there today checking into a new laptop computer and hit the food court for lunch. Anyway, there was a 40-something lady working the counter, wearing that classic uniform with the shorts, tank, and the hat. She had a few miles on her. And they weren’t highway, if you catch my drift. An absolute waste of that uniform. She should be allowed (requested?) to wear something else.
Anyway, the fight. I got to watch three of the under-card bouts. Each better than the one before. I’ve been very slow to pick up on this whole MMA thing, but now I’m hooked. It’s boxing only better. The Din Thomas/Jeremy Stephens fight was something else. I honestly thought Stephens had Thomas licked, but in a split second, Thomas had Stephens in an arm bar which, had the referee not stopped the fight, would have resulted in some severe damage for Stephens. The Parisyan/Burkman fight was a lot of fun to watch as well.
But tonight was all about Lidell and “Rampage” Jackson. Lidell is about as big as a name gets in the sport and with things peaking media-wise, the timing of the fight couldn’t have been better. The entire room was pro-Lidell as were the folks they interviewed during the broadcast. He’s the man, I guess. I was interested to see what the big deal was. From the moment the fight started, though, you could sort of sense that Lidell wasn’t 100% there. He looked tentative. At least to me, and like I said, I know nothing of the sport. And wouldn’t you know it, Jackson dropped Lidell with a clean fist to the temple and followed it up with a flurry of punches while Lidell was flat on his back until Lidell was out cold. Tonight “Rampage” Jackson rules the world.
Listening to the radio afterward, you would think this was the worst thing ever for the sport. Nothing could be further from the truth. What killed boxing was the fact nights like tonight are so far apart. Years, in fact. Boxing promoters put their stars up against patsies and ask us to pay $50 to watch their crap. UFC, on the other hand, is controlled by a couple of brothers and a promoter. They set all the matches. And they set them to be competitive. So rather than watching some babyface come in and dominate, ala WWE, they set their matches to be unpredictable. That’s what happened tonight. And that’s why they made a fan of me. You can bet your ass I’ll be back for UFC 72 in three weeks.