Yesterday’s show at Asbury Lanes
Category: Music

Yesterday's show at Asbury Lanes was really fun.

I had never been to the Lanes before, and it was a supremely cool place--an actual bowling alley, where bands also play.  The stage is set up in the center lanes, while folks can still have bowling games on the outer lanes on either side.  I know it sounds like a bizarre arrangment, but it actually works.

As if that wasn't unique enough, this place also serves alcohol, and has decent fast food fare--burgers, veggie burgers, falafels, fries, etc.  Sort of a self-contained entertainment unit, so to speak.  Before the bands went on, and inbetween sets, a DJ spun all sorts of classic ska & reggae, which was extremely cool.

Four bands played last night.  First up were a Pennsyl-tuckey punk band called The Cutters, who were quite good.  In addition to having decent songs, they especially deserve props for mentioning Joe Strummer's birthday (the legendary Clash vocalist would have been 56, on August 21st).

Next up were the traditionalist ska warriors, Silver Dollar.  Sporting a re-vamped lineup, Skoochie and the boys kicked some major ass, doing a bunch of Skatalites covers and other undeniably catchy tunes.  If any band these days in "keeping it real" in the ska sense, it's these guys.  They are the Gideon Force of modern ska music, fighting against fickle trends with grim professionalism and consummate skill.

Following Silver Dollar is no easy thing, but Across the Aisle gave it their best shot, for which I give them major credit.  They're a sort of pop/ska/punk band in the vein of No Doubt or Save Ferris; thinking about it, I would have to say that they were the one band that was kind of out of place, but they performed well.  The majority of the crowd seemed to view them with a distinct amount of apathy, but the band nevertheless performed as if they were in front of a loyal home audience.

Finally, Hub City Stompers came on, and, as usual, they delivered an irreverent set of raucous tunes.  They played a decent cross-section of tracks from their entire career, ranging from the always-awesome "Chatterbox" off their original full-length release, Blood, Sweat, & Beers, to "Trojan Night" from their Mass Appeal EP, and several songs from their Dirty Jersey full-length CD, like "Skins Don't Cry" and "Skinhead Boi".  They also played some new tunes off of their forthcoming Ska Ska Black Sheep, including one hilarious number that thoroughly mocks the bullshit we know as Emo.  Any "scene" that involves guys wearing girl's jeans is begging to be made fun of, and you can imagine what a band like HCS does with such material.  Travis, I salute you!!!

Another real treat was their cover of one of Steel Toe Solution's songs, "Bootgirl".  Given that STS are no more, it was great to hear that.

It was good to see skinhead Lenny, and it was the first time I saw his wonderful assistance dog, Tyrone, a big lug of a Pit-Bull mix (he looks like he might have some American Bulldog or mastiff in him).  Such a cool animal.

Overall, it was a great night.  It was ostensibly a Scooter Ralley, but the number of dilapitated Lambrettas parked outside was rather low--indeed, I think I saw more motorcyles out front, than scooters.

The one unexpected feature of the evening (to me, at least) were the local soccer hooligans at the gig.  To be honest, I had no friggin' idea that soccer was followed here in the States, or that there was even a "hooligan" element to speak of.  But obviously I've been living in a cave, because there they were, a bunch of hooligans--both skins and casuals--cheering on the victories of their chosen team, and singing the characteristic pub sing-a-longs that we normally associate with British football thugs. 

The counterculture is never a dull thing, that's for sure.

9:24 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Filipino eskrima, English singlestick, & the death of martial culture.
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Life

The Filipino art of eskrima is most certainly a magnificent martial art, one of the finest examples of a functional fighting method ever created, in the history of martial arts.

In my opinion, two main factors have hampered the propagation of the Filipino arts:

1. The lack of government support for the native fighting arts, until fairly recently.

2. The very nature of eskrima itself--i.e., it's a hard-core, "old-school" martial art, that focuses on rugged weapons use.

Regarding Factor 1, it's interesting to note that eskrima/arnis has only been compulsory in the Filipino education system since 1990. Compare that to the Japanese martial arts, which have been compulsory in that country's education system since 1911.

Regarding Factor 2, it probably shouldn't shock any of us that, in modern times, eskrima actually became less popular in the Philippines than non-Filipino fighting arts like karate and judo, because the masses weren't into giving and receiving the hard knocks, which typically happen in realistic armed fighting methods that make use of sticks. A similar situation happened in Europe, in the early 20th century, when the native English form of singlestick-play ultimately died out, to be replaced entirely by the modern foil, epee, and light saber. The English singlestick was an ash sapling or dowel, fitted with a wickerwork or hardened leather basket-hilt. It was essentially the "bokken" of the West--a training tool for broadsword, backsword, and heavy saber. Singlestick fencing was even included in the modern Olympic Games through 1904. It survived in English fencing salles through the 1920s, and finally died out in the 1930s, when it was still practiced in some British public schools, and even by American Navy cadets, who used it for cutlass practice. By this time, singlestick had come under criticism from fencing masters trained in the conventional 3 weapons of foil, epee, & saber. These masters evidently didn't understand the singlestick and its history, and it's a shame that this native English fighting art ultimately died out, largely because folks simply didn't want to get cracked by an ash stick (which is funny, considering that latter-day singlestick players typically wore appropriately heavy gear, including a heavy fencing helmet similiar in protection to the moder WEKAF* helmet, a thick jacket, and a cricket pad on the lead leg).

Like English singlestick, Filipino eskrima is an art that hearkens back to an earlier time, when men (and sometimes women, too) literally depended on their skills with sticks and swords, for survival. If you go back far enough in history, there was a time when folks were, frankly, made of tougher stuff, and they were willing to do what it took, to learn the use of their weapons. Compare how English singlestick died out in the 1930s, to its height of popularity 200 years earlier, during the time of the great cudgeller & pugilist, James Figg (who was, incidentally, the first modern heavyweight boxing champion). In Figg's day, no protection was worn, either with singlestick-play or when using actual sharp swords. Bouts began with the prayer, "Lord, spare our eyes", which is admittedly sobering. Figg's main sparring partner, Captain John Godfrey, wrote of the kind of man Figg was:

"I chose mostly to go to Figg, partly because I knew him to be the ablest Master, as partly, because he was of a rugged Temper, and would spare no Man, high or low, who took up a Stick against him."

This says much about Figg's character. In his day, singlestick-play was regarded as a martial art of the common people, as opposed to the nobles. Commoners fenced singlestick, and nobles fenced smallsword. And yet, Figg was popular with everyone, and he had many noble gentlemen who trained at his school. Rather than treating these high-born men any differently, Figg had no qualms about cracking them in the skull, either!

Fortunately, I think FMA has already accomplished what English singlestick ultimately failed to do--i.e., survive the fickleness of the martial arts public. That being said, FMAists would still do well to learn from the story of singlestick's demise. While FMA remains, there are still numerous divided camps, regarding how the art should be promoted & taught. As with Western fencing systems, eskrima has suffered from a certain amount of functional dilution, as the full-armor WEKAF tournaments all-too-plainly show. For a truly functional weaponed fighting art to survive in the modern day is dicey, to put it mildly. The average martial arts student of today is typically not comparable to those stalwart folks who trained in these arts, even just 50 years ago, let alone in the previous centuries. What does the future hold for FMA? I honestly don't know--but if we keep the historical record in mind, we can hopefully keep FMA from either going the way of the dinosaur, or degenerating into functional oblivion, like so many other arts. When an art dies, a part of that nation's culture dies.  I don't know about the rest of you, but I NEVER want to see FMA deteriorate into some sort of wushu-like "performance art".

That would be a genuine tragedy.

____________

* World Eskrima Kali Arnis Federation

11:33 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Famous swordsmen: Robert Roy MacGregor (1671-1734)
Current mood: calm
Category: Life

In the 17th and early 18th centuries, the Scottish Highlands were essentially the U.K.'s "Indian Country".  The Highland Scots were a tribal society, and they still spoke their ancient Celtic language (Gaelic).

True to their original Celtic heritage, the Highlanders were a warrior culture, where skill in the use weapons (especially edged weapons like swords) was considered paramount.  In a land that produced many top-notch swordsmen, there were still some folks who stood out, and one of them was Robert Roy MacGregor, aka Rob Roy.

Rivarly with other clans (particularly the land-hungry Campbells) had been hard on Clan Gregor, for the past couple of hundred years.  Nevertheless, they fought tenaciously, and it is little wonder that author W.H. Murray declared that "Two centuries of persecution had made Clan Gregor the toughest and most skilful guerrilla force ever to operate in Scotland".

This was the warrior culture that Robert Roy MacGregor was born into.

Highland warrior society was based principally on the use of edged weapons.  The main weapons were the basket-hilted broadsword (claidheamh mor or "claymore"), the leather-covered round wooden shield (targe), and the dirk (a large, usually single-edged fighting knife).  The great two-handed sword (claidheamh da laimh) was still occasionally used, but was not nearly so common, as in centuries past (indeed, many two-handers were actually cut down, to provide blades for the basket-hilted swords).  Also in use was the dreaded lochaber axe, a local variety of polearm.

W.H. Murray went into some detail as to the training of Highland swordsmen, in his excellent book, Roy Roy MacGregor--His Life and Times:

"Practice began with the ash stick, through which a peg had been driven below the handle.  Rob was taught (most likely by the clan's fencing master) first to take position--body upright, the feet and legs positioned in different ways for best balance and speed of action.  When that was mastered, he was taught the cuts made from seven angles, and seven guard positions below and above breast level.  Only when these had been thoroughly learned would he be shown the three thrusts, made with a straight wrist from eye-, breast-, and hip-levels, and finally three 'engaging' guards.

The rest was a matter of steady practice.  The cuts and guards had to be made each and all from the different positions using a naked blade to get the proper turns of the wrist and blade-edge; therefore it was common practice to make a square target from old boards, on which the fourteen cuts and guards were engraved.  Rob would have to face it daily, and practice each stroke and guard point until they became second nature.

Donald (Rob's father) must have had reason to be pleased with Rob, who early on would show his exceptionally fast reflexes and a promise of strength and quickness excelling his brothers'.  After a few years' stick play, Rob would learn the finer points of the art, and Donald would pass on battle experience--how against a mounted enemy you must gain his left side and slash the horse's nose, which sent it right about; while against a man with a rapier, cut diagonally up at his arm.  Ash stick play was the common course for all boys.  They fenced assiduously and grew accustomed to hard knocks."

To be continued...

5:59 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Fedor Emelianenko--"The Last Emperor"
Category: Sports

Last night's bout between Fedor Emelianenko and Tim Sylvia at the Affliction "Banned" event was really something to see.

All 36 seconds of it.

I was looking forward to seeing Fedor give "The Maine-iac" a thorough lesson in MMA technique, but I'll confess I wasn't expecting it to end that quickly.

Don't get me wrong--we all know Fedor is a monster--but his immediate & complete dismantling of Sylvia was akin to the unsuspecting German Army's first encounter with the dreaded Russian T-34.

The T-34 was a finely-balanced tank, with excellent firepower, mobility, & armor protection.  Likewise, Fedor Emelianenko is one of the most well-rounded fighters in MMA, with solid skills & attributes in ALL areas of the game:  standup striking, throws & takedowns, groundwork & subs, and ground n' pound.  He is absolutely amazing.

"The Last Emperor" is truly the absolute ruler of the MMA Empire!

8:45 AM - 4 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

The Primitive Experiment
Current mood: determined
Category: Life

I've decided to refine my lifestyle and physical training, in a decidedly uncommon manner.

Every friggin' day at my vitamin store, I see various athletes and wannabe athletes, who come in looking for the latest and greatest in sports supplementation--eg., testosterone & GH boosters, nitric oxide (NO) boosters, umpteenth-generation creatine, and blah, blah, blah.  And they always have to gab on about illegal anabolic steroids, too.  Not that long ago, female bodybuilder Carolyn Bryant stated that bodybuilding used to be a "sport for the genetically gifted", but that it has now degenerated into an "activity for the chemically adventurous".  All too true, I'm afraid.

Now, I've never been interested in bodybuilding, per se.  My personal goals in physical culture have simply been:

1.  To cultivate overall health, and avoid especially the things that killed my parents (diabetes, heart disease, & Alzheimer's).

2.  To increase my strength, endurance, & explosiveness, so as to be a better practitioner of fencing, stickfighting, & Brazilian jiu-jitsu.

That's it.

Don't get me wrong--looking lean & fit certainly makes one feel better about one's self, but I've never personally desired to "look like Arnold", or anything like that.  I'm not knocking those who do, but it's just not my gig, personally.  I'm not a big guy, but I sure as hell don't suffer from "small man syndrome", either.  I've seen as much fear and insecurity in the eyes of thick-bodied juicers, as I have in anyone else.  And big meatnecks can get knocked out or choked out, just like any other human being.  No "Adonis complex" bullshit for this 5'7" Italo-Scot-Irish guy. 

And, in the final analysis regarding functional strength training vs. bodybuilding, we would all do well to remember what kettlebell icon Pavel Tsatsouline has said:  any improvement to the physique is a side effect of training, as opposed the overall goal of training.

Back to those chemicals, and their adventurous use.  I've used a few of them over the years myself.  Nothing crazy--just mild legal stuff like tribulus extract, NO boosters, and so on.  Some were better than others, but none were particularly noteworthy.  I've had some talks about this sort of thing with the all-knowing Marcus, my co-worker who is seriously one of the most brilliant people I know.  The guy is going to school for nutrition, and he really knows his shit.  We've both toned-down our supplementation regimens, to the foundational basics of multivitamin/multiminerals, protein powders, etc. 

I just picked up a copy of The Purposeful Primitive, by Marty Gallagher, a noted sports science writer and former powerlifting & Olympic lifting champion.  His old-school approach to training and nutrition is something I've always tried to embrace to some degree, but I've gotten to a point in my life where I want to emulate it further.  Everyone who knows me is well aware of my passion for history and the martial arts, and I've always held the fighting men of the past on a sort of pedastal--I cannot help but admire their courage, strength, determination, and self-discipline.  I look at folks like Leonidas's 300 Spartans defending the pass at Thermopylae, or the Roman legionaries who fought for Julius Caesar during the siege of the Gallic stronghold of Alesia, and I'm consistently amazed by what these warriors were able to accomplish.  Or, look at how Genghis Khan's Mongols were able to reach the Khwarizmian city of Bukhara, by crossing the supposedly "impenetrable" Kizil Kum desert!  These were all hardy people, and modern humans--despite our advances in medicine, hygiene, etc.--typically seem sickly and weak, by comparison.  For inspiration, I'll take Sebastiano Venier over Mike Mentzer, anytime!

Over the past several years I've been transitioning to a more natural diet, as much as my finances allow.  I prefer organic veggies, as well as cage-free eggs and free-range meats.  While I will maintain using certain supplements, they will only be the foundationals, like multivitamins, as well well as naturally-derived supplements, like dessicated beef liver tablets.  Warrior cultures have always prized the fresh livers of various game animals as a source of strength and endurance; the liver tabs are essentially a modern version of that.

Living "clean" is hard in a place like "Dirty Jersey", but I'm doing the best I can.  I want to try to get as close to how the Ancients lived & trained (without giving up things like running water, of course).  So, while all those juiced-up gym rats are struggling with their post-cycle therapy, I'll be keeping things real with the brown rice, steamed broccoli, rare steak, & cold, black iron.

Stay Strong,

David the Black, aka Rob Roy

7:59 AM - 6 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

More sheer idiocy within the MMA fanbase
Current mood: annoyed
Category: Sports

Well, first they bitched about Lyoto Machida making a fool of Tito, and now they're bitching about how Quinton "Rampage" Jackson supposedly got "robbed" in his bout with Forrest Griffin.  I honestly don't know what's wrong with these people.

Before I get into this, let me state that I, myself, felt that Jackson would win this thing.  I appreciate Griffin's heart, but I seriously didn't think he had what it took, to beat "Rampage".  All I knew is that it would be an entertaining fight.

Well, things seemed somewhat odd from the start.  Jackson frankly didn't even look in tip-top shape to me; he was retaining a bit of useless thickness around his midsection.  He also looked somewhat stiff and tentative, in his movement.

Round 1 began with the usual feeling out process, until "Rampage" landed a brutal uppercut that dropped Forrest.  However, Jackson couldn't mount any sort of decent ground-and-pound offense; Griffin held him close in his guard, and defended very well on the ground.

In Round 2, Forrest landed a couple of nasty leg kicks, squarely against the side of Jackson's knee.  Jackson's leg buckled, and he wasn't the same after that.  I would imagine that he suffered from soft tissue (tendon and/or ligament) damage from those blows, and maybe even a hairline fracture of one of the legbones (possibly the top of the fibula).  Whatever happened, he was definitely hurt, and he tried to take Forrest down.

Forrest countered with a guillotine, and then he took Jackson down, and controlled "Rampage" on the ground for the rest of the round.  Griffin tried to lock in an Americana from the side mount, but couldn't get it.  Nevertheless, Jackson's physical condition and lack of groundwork was evident the entire time, as he did absolutely nothing to improve his position (and Forrest was able to transition from side mount to mount, with ease).

In Round 3, the two fighters stayed on the feet; Jackson wisely moved his lead leg out of the way, during a few more attempts by Griffin at leg shots.  "Rampage" exhibited better overall boxing skill, but Forrest peppered his opponent with far more shots.

Early in Round 4, Jackson and Griffin had some exchanges, and the heavy-handed "Rampage" appeared to get the better of these.  Then they clinched, and went to the ground with Jackson on top, in Forrest's guard.  Jackson just sat there, not attempting to mount any sort of offense.  Griffin, on the other hand, controlled Jackson's limbs well, to avoid the ground-and-pound that never came, and then attempted a triangle choke.  Jackson stood up and lifted his opponent, and the crowd went wild, as we all expected to see a repeat of when "Rampage" dumped Ricardo Arona in PRIDE.  However, Forrest was smart; he held onto Jackson's leg, and then when lifted, he let go of the triangle, to avoid being slammed.  They both fell to the ground, and Griffin immediately regained guard.  Once again, Jackson just laid on top of his opponent, making no real attempt at ground-and-pound (he threw a couple weak shots hear and there, but nothing of real note).  He didn't even try to pass Griffin's guard.  Then, Forrest made another sub attempt--an omoplata--but "Rampage" slipped out, and as the two made it to their feet, Jackson jarred Griffin with a stiff left.  The two then continued with the standing game, and Forrest took a couple of heavy shots during the boxing exchanges, but he didn't looked particularly rocked--he's a tough friggin' Irish guy, and it showed.

Finally, Round 5.  This round was pretty uneventful, as the fighters rather cautiously stalked each other--but Griffin threw far more punches and kicks.  They picked up the pace a bit before the round ended, and that was it.

It was quite clear who had won the fight.  Forrest Griffin hurt Jackson considerably with those leg kicks in Round 2; he went for multiple submission attempts in both Rounds 2 and 4; and he threw far more leather than his opponent, throughout the fight.

Jackson, on the other hand, really only had one shining moment, and that was with that uppercut in Round 1.  Aside from that, he really didn't do anything.  He certainly didn't look like the same "Rampage" Jackson who dropped Chuck Liddell, let alone the one who used to routinely dump people in PRIDE.

So why are all these Jackson nuthuggers bitching?

It really fucking cracks me up.

3:33 PM - 7 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Regrets in my life
Current mood: sad
Category: Life

I regret that I was not able to actually make something of myself, while my parents were still alive.  Ever the "black sheep", I am...

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I regret that my family is so... fragmented now.  I personally did my best, but evidently it wasn't enough.

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I regret not having stuck with Brazilian jiu-jitsu.  Despite my penchant for weapons training, I feel that I have a good aptitude for grappling.

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I regret having never watched Gods and Generals with Jinx.  I think she would have understood it.

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I regret not buying bulldog Augustus.  Lindsey saved that lil' guy from choking on a piece of wood, and he was so cute, with his gargoyle-like paws and beautiful coloring.  I'll never forget the way he looked at me from his cage, when we left.  :(

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I regret how I failed in salvaging my friendship with Jeff P.  I don't even know if he's still alive or not.  We had a lot of great times, over the years.  Hope you're alright, bro. 

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I regret having never finished "The Great Vampyre Novel".

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I regret that I didn't establish a closer relationship with my mother's cousin's husband, also named David.  He was a Royal Navy veteran, who received his gunnery training aboard the monitor, H.M.S. Marshal Soult.

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I regret so much, in my life.

8:30 AM - 8 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Spanish swordsmithing, & latter-day pattern-welded blades
Current mood: fascinated

The Spanish have always been known for their skill in bladesmithing, from the Ancient period, to modern times.  Ancient Iberian swordsmiths were justifyably famous for the quality of their weapons, including the fearsome falcata with its forward-swept blade, and the grimly-pointed gladius, which was adopted by the Romans as the primary weapon for their heavy infantry.

The Spanish retained their reputation for fine swords into the Middle Ages and Renaissance.  I stumbled upon an interesting excerpt describing Spanish swordsmithing during the 16th century.  Taken from Richard Lane's Swashbuckling (a text on stage combat), the author quotes it as originally coming from a book called Conquistadors in North American History, by Paul Horgan.  I have not been able to find this book.

We normally associate the ritualistic aspects of swordsmithing with the Japanese and their beautiful katana and tachi, but the fact remains that many cultures have a good deal of such aspects tied in with their weapon-making practices.  The arcane side of swordsmithing is very evident in this description by  Horgan:

...the weapon most expressive of the style of Spain was the sword made of Toledo steel... its creation was attempted only under certain ideal conditions and every step was marked by ritual blessings.  The iron core of the blade was called its soul, to which veneers of steel were welded in white-hot coals.  The work was done only on moonless nights, the better to see the true weld of the red-hot metal, and only on nights when the warm south wind blew, the better to let the steel retain its heat while passed through the air to be plunged into a vat of cool water... it was repeatedly tempered in the water, while the ritual chant provided the proper timing for each immersion... In one last firing the blade was brought to a dull glow, and then while the master held it with tongs, the boy smeared the blade with whole fat from the kidney of a he-goat or ram.  Set in a rack to cool through hours of [exposure to] air, the blade darkened.  In daytime it was sharpened and polished, and then if it was to bear a motto, it went to the engraver's bench... Born of skill and piety, and wielded with style and courage, the Toledo blade was both symbol and weapon...

For me personally, the single most intriguing part of the passage above is the reference to an "iron core" with "veneers of steel" welded to it.  To me, this sounds like the old method of pattern-welded European blades.  In the West, pattern-welded blades largely gave way to homogenous steel ones, in the 10th century A.D./C.E.  This does not mean that pattern-welded swords disappeared entirely, but they were never again produced in Europe in such quantity.

Horgan's piece is the only reference I've seen to pattern-welded swords actually made in the 16th century (Spanish or otherwise).  Until I track down a copy of his book, I won't be able to track down what his sources were, for his description.

12:06 PM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

The dreaded British 1796 pattern light cavalry saber

Designed by an expert swordsman, the noted cavalry officer John Gaspard Le Marchant, the 1796 pattern light cavarly saber was inspired by contemporary Austrian sabers, which were, in turn, derived from earlier Hungarian models.  It is one of the very finest cutting swords that has ever been made.

The 1796 featured a gracefully curved, 33-inch blade, with a broad "hatchet point", optimized for cutting.  The blade was lightened--without sacrificing strength--by a very wide single fuller.  The hand was protected by a simple iron knucklebow.

In the Volume 2, Number 3 (2002) issue of Man at Arms magazine, author David Patten had a very good article on the 1796, and he offered a very sobering period account of the effect of this weapon in the hands of the 3rd Light Dragoons (Hussars) of the King's German Legion, who were among the most skilled light cavalry in the British Army at that time.  During the retreat to Corunna in 1808-1809, it was noted that:

Most of the enemy's wounded had their arms cut off, and in many cases their upper limbs hung from their shoulders merely by a shred of uniform.  Lt. Heise... saw one Frenchman lying on the ground who had the whole of his head cut off horizontally above the eyes at one blow, and many others with their heads split in two.  He also noticed one man who rode with outspread arms who had received a diagonal blow across his face which had cut his mouth right open so that his jaw, as far back as the tongue, hung down over his chest and you could see his gullet.

The Prussians copied the 1796 outright, with their Model 1811 "Blucher Sabel" (saber).  I have an 1811 myself, and it is truly a fine weapon.  Weighing a mere 2 pounds 3 ounces, it is lighter and far better-balanced than the modern reproductions of the 1796, such as that offered by Cold Steel.

8:54 PM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Sheer idiocy within the MMA fanbase.
Current mood: annoyed
Category: Sports

UFC 84--among the various fights last night, Brazilian shotokan/BJJ stylist Lyoto Machida defeated Tito Ortiz by decision.  I've read a shitload of flak today, regarding Machida's fighting style.  Every fucking moron under the sun has come out to say how Lyoto supposedly "ran" from Tito; how he "backpedaled", and blah, blah, blah.

Did Machida stop Tito's takedown attempts?  YES, and very well, I might add.  Did he consistently evade Tito's punches, and counter-punch (and kick, and knee) effectively himself?  YES.  That last knee to Tito's body was beautiful.

So what the fuck is everyone's problem?

Do we expect Machida (or any other fighter, for that matter) to just stand there, and get hit and/or taken down?  Does not scientific pugilism embrace the same motto as fencing with swords--i.e., to hit and not be hit?  Why, then, has Machida taken so much criticism for last night's performance?

Not that Machida would be the first to be criticized for such "cowardly" tactics.  When the first heavyweight boxing championship under Marquis of Queensbury (gloved) rules took place in 1892 between then-champion John L. Sullivan and "Gentleman" Jim Corbett, the latter was criticized in some circles for his evasive style.  But Corbett was no fool--he knew of Sullivan's punching power, and he fought a very technical bout, dodging the "Boston Strong Boy's" punches, busting his nose, and ultimately knocking him out.  It was, as boxing writer Nat Fleischer said, an example of "speed, youth, and scientific generalship" against "bulky muscular power slowed down by age and fast living".

Another interesting example is "Phantom" Mike Gibbons' 1912 bout against Eddie McGoorty.  In this fight, Gibbons (another supremely scientific boxer) actually didn't really fight--he simply danced around McGoorty and evaded all his punches, in a no-decision encounter.  Asked by one of the sports writers why he hadn't bothered to throw much leather, Gibbons answered, "Because you and every other writer said that McGoorty would beat me, simply because he was ten pounds heavier than me.  I decided to prove you were all wrong, and that he couldn't lay a glove on me.  And he didn't.  That's all I cared about."

So, to all the Lyoto Machida naysayers, I have only one thing to say to you:

Shut the fuck up.

Now, here's my original review:

UFC 84 "Ill Will"

Keith, the self-professed "Dean of Mean" Jardine looked downright cocky walking into the Octagon last night. While some weird techno backpipe music blared in the background, he danced backwards inside the ring while staring into the camera--an effect that actually made him look something like an overgrown Leprechuan. In his corner, he uttered several loud grunt-exhalations--the sort of unnecessary posturing which frankly didn't make him look any more "mean". In any case, he seemed really cocky.

It's alright to be confident, but being cocky can get you into trouble.

It therefore came as little surprise when Vanderlei Silva--the soft-spoken "Axe Murderer"--crumpled Jardine definitively, in a matter of seconds in the first round. Vanderlei looked like the vicious PRIDE fighter of old, and it was nice to see.



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Relative newcomer Lyoto Machida--undefeated in UFC competition--methodically picked apart Tito Ortiz on the feet. Machida consistently outstruck Ortiz, and deftly countered Tito's takedown attempts, like a matador avoiding bull-rushes. He eventually put Ortiz down with a nice knee to the body. Tito's only shining moment was right at the end of the bout, where he nearly locked in a triangle/armbar, but the crafty Brazilian wormed out of it. The crowd--which featured plenty of Tito fans--was compelled to occasionally boo Machida for his evasive style, which reminded me of how John L. Sullivan's fans booed "Gentleman" Jim Corbett for the same thing, back in 1892. All I could think of when Tito expressed frustration & accused Machida of "running" was, "He won't let me hit him! He won't let me take him down!" LOL--that's called smart fighting, Tito. Deal with it.


***


Sean Sherk and BJ Penn. While BJ Penn did some impressive things as a welterweight (defeating Matt Hughes; bloodying up Georges St. Pierre), he seems much better as a lightweight. People have rightfully questioned Penn's endurance, but he seems to have ironed that problem out nicely enough. Sean Sherk came out aggressively, ready to box on the feet--but he was consistently out-reached and out-boxed by Penn, who peppered the "Muscle Shark" with constant jabs, followed by hard right hands. Sherk winged hooking punches with a lot of power, but he hit mostly air, and he looked somewhat tight. Penn looked supremely relaxed. Sherk's few takedown attempts were countered just as we all expected, with Penn's uncanny sense of balance. Towards the end of the bout, Penn turned up the heat, threw some punches, and then landed a really nasty knee that dropped Sherk against the fence, followed by some brief gound-and-pound, just as the bell rang. Penn said to the ref, "he's done!"

And he was. The ref called the fight right there, and Penn retained his belt on a TKO.



***


All in all, it was a good night.

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