Five Dream Bouts for the Ages

If you haven’t spent at least one evening around a table with your friends, eating pizza and drinking some bubbly beverage over a discussion of your sport’s “what if” match-ups then I submit that you are not a true sports fan.   That’s right.  I’m challenging your fanhood!

This very scenario happened for me not more than a week ago (except all my friends had been choked out for disagreeing with me and the feast was of rice cakes and mineral water.  Okay, really I don’t have any friends but that’s a whole different article…).

The upshot of this evening with multiple personality disorder was the imagining of “Five Dream Bouts for the Ages!”  And they are as follows:

We begin our journey of speculation with a bout that just might happen sometime soon:

George “Rush” St. Pierre (18-2, 169lbs.) vs. Anderson “The Spider” Silva (23-4, 185lbs.)

Meeting at a catch weight of 178, the two fighters lock eyes across the octagon as Frank Buffer attempts to finally give himself an aneurism.  Silva, looking like a daddy long legs after having to somehow shed the extra weight, still has an aura of invincibility around him.  St. Pierre, looking even more jacked up than usual, flexes his jaw nervously as he prepares for the upcoming war.

“Are you ready?  Are you ready?  Fight!” comes the call from the black shirted ref.  The two fighters meet in the middle, respectfully tap gloves and begin to dance around one another, feeling each other out.  St.  Pierre is too smart to chase Silva.  Silva is too patient to force an attack.  They tit-for-tat for over three minutes as the crowd at the Nationwide Arena in Ohio begins to grow restless.  Eventually the first round ends, no fighter having taken a big chance yet.

Round two begins… The oh so fight educated crowd prays for blood… St. Pierre finally gets close… Silva gets a solid Muay Thai clinch but before he can repeat the artistry he performed on Rich Franklin’s nose, St. Pierre surprises him with the fastest takedown Silva has seen since this side of his loss to a flying scissor heel hook in Japan.  Yes, Silva has improved since then but St. Pierre has muppet power!  Working the Kermit the Canadian guard pass, St. Pierre quickly gets to Silva’s side, then transits to mount and begins to reign down damage on Silva’s exposed noggin.  Silva, no slouch at Jiu Jitsu, tries to work back at least to half guard but it’s to no avail as St. Pierre screams out, “This is for Pigggieeeee!” and slams a bone jarring elbow across Silva’s temple.

The crowd roars, happy to have had their rock-em-sock-em appetite sated for now.  Silva loses the ability to intelligently defend himself and the ref steps in at 1:10 of round two.

Winner: George St. Pierre by TKO, round 2.

Our journey continues to a bout that would be nice to see happen in a couple of years:

Fedor “The Last Emporer” Emelianenko (29-1, 233lbs.) vs. Brock Lesnar (3-1, 265lbs.)

In a match up that by late 2011 has people frothing at the mouth, these two unstoppable forces meet at Madison Square Garden.  Much to Dana White’s chagrin, it is the crowning achievement for Affliction which has been barely breaking even and suffering rumors of its demise.  This fight is billed as the biggest fight in MMA history and it’s compared to Ali – Frazier by every sports magazine in the U.S.  This fight is so big that Howard Cosell comes out of death to slap on a mustard yellow jacket and do the play by play.

Standing across from one another as the ref goes over the rules, the two figures stare each other down.  Lesnar looks at Fedor as if he was his next chicken dinner.  Fedor looks at Lesnar with that same cold stare that all his victims get.  The arena is completely hush.  The rules are done, the fighters return to their pimped out with advertising corners.

Ding, ding!  The bell rings and the adrenaline drops, not just for the two fighters but for over 10 million fans watching in the arena and around the world.  Cosell begins his litany of metaphors, bringing back an entire cold war subplot as the giant American meets the icy Roosky at the center of the ring.

There is no glove tap.  They dance around each other for perhaps only 30 seconds until Lesnar makes a surprising shot on Fedor’s legs.  Fedor, the consummate professional manages to sprawl as Lesnar continues to drive forward.  Lesnar ends up in Fedor’s guard.  It’s a plot we’ve all seen before: Giant man attacks Fedor, Fedor tricks him into an arm bar.  It’s no different this time… but it is.   Fedor has turned himself over his shoulder and has all his body weight on top of Lesnar’s arm.  Holding on like a boa constrictor, Fedor pulls at the giant meat hook.  Suddenly the theme to Donkey Kong comes over the MSG loudspeakers and Lesnar stands straight up, holding Fedor who is still attached to his arm, up in mid air!

The crowd goes absolutely wild.  Cosell is gesturing so emphatically that his toupee flies into the second row, landing in Jenna Jameson’s lap (the first hair she’s seen down there since puberty hit).

Fedor refuses to let go and Lesnar lets out a primal roar as he slams Fedor down into the mat, using him like a human hammer head.  Amazingly, Fedor is still holding on!  Lesnar slams him again… twice… three times!  Finally Fedor has been shaken free and rolls out to his feet.  The two face off again, the crowd looking on in utter astonishment.  Fedor wastes no time advancing on Lesnar, hoping the giant man has tired himself some.

Fedor throws a looping right hook that connects.  Then a left.  Then another right.  Lesnar is pushed back toward the ropes but he rallies as he bounces off them and reaches deep into his WWE roots, landing a clothesline on the advancing Fedor.

A scramble ensues and they are soon on their feet again exchanging punishment.  Finally, the bell rings.

“Never before in the history of MMA has a fight this imperative, this magnanimous, this compelling taken place.”  Howard is firing off SAT words into the mic at an astonishing rate, showing that even in undeath the man can out-announce the best of ‘em.

The bell rings to begin round two and the action continues.  The two trade submission attempts and strikes round after round for what seems like hours but it’s only 25 minutes.  With 40 seconds to go in the last round, Lesnar is mounted on Fedor, bouncing hammer fists off The Last Emperor’s head.  They are both bloodied and battered and have found reserves of energy no human should have.  It appears as though Lesnar might just pull this out… but Fedor somehow manages a reversal and ends up in Lesnar’s guard.  He reigns down elbows as Lesnar attempts to pull his head in.  The blood flies, Fedor postures up for another blow.  The bell rings.

The 10 million fans viewing it will never be the same.  The fate of the old cold war rests on the shoulders of the judges.  It’s a fight that could go either way but the real winner here is MMA which has finally made its mark to the populace at large.

Finally after 10 excruciatingly long minutes of tabulating the cards the fighters are brought to the center of the ring.  Everyone waits with baited breath as the first card is about to be read, and suddenly –

The roof of The Garden caves in, 18 tons of white papers falling into the ring, crushing the fighters (and the poor announcer) under their weight.  We never get to hear the answer.

Winner: Dana White by litigation.

We move on now to a bout that wouldn’t be good without a time machine:

Rickson Gracie (11-0, 185lbs.) vs. Tito “The Huntington Beach Bad Boy” Ortiz (15-6-1, 205lbs.)

This is one of those good vs. evil matches.  The respectful martial artist who lives his life by a code vs. the wild Los Angeles, porn loving, run-at-the-mouth ground and pounder.

The stare down for this bout is one of the most tense moments ever to be seen in MMA.  Rickson looks Tito square in the eyes with utter disdain while Tito stares back, mouthing four letter words.

When the bell rings, Rickson stalks across the matt looking for a quick opening.  They exchange half hearted jabs, both looking for a takedown opportunity.  Tito is the first to spring.  He shoots on Rickson’s legs who is just a tad slow to the sprawl.  Tito gets a single leg and uses it to get to Rickson’s half guard.  Rickson is the best the Gracie family ever had though and he defends the strikes Tito attempts and eventually gets to guard.  The first round continues on without much fan fare as Tito tries to pound and Rickson tries to reverse or submit.  The bell to end the first round rings and the restless fans start chants of “U – S – A   U – S – A .“

In between rounds Joe Rogan’s neck bulges out like dewlap as he tries to explain the intricacies of Rickson’s Gracie technique.  “Rickson is the top of the Gracie food chain!  That omoplata setup he had is just ridiculous!”

The next round is much the same as the first and the crowd is utterly bored now.  Cell phone towers in the area of the arena are “all circuits busy” as an arena full of fans are texting simultaneously messages like, “Dude this fight sucks!  Tito totally needs to bash him!”  And, “I’d totally tap that ring card girl!  Get it?  Tap her?  LOL!”

Finally in the third round, Rickson being the wise fighter that he is works out a plan.  He backs his way toward Tito’s corner and purposefully gives up a take down.  As Tito postures up to strike from within Rickson’s guard, Rickson looks out into the audience and winks at Tito’s famous lady friend.  Tito, suddenly thinking he realizes why Jenna wouldn’t marry him completely loses his cool and makes a horrible jiu jitsu 101 error, reaching forward to strangle Rickson.  Rickson secures the arm, throws a leg over and Tito is left tapping.

Winner: Rickson Gracie by tapout Round 3.

And now for a bout that would have me giggling with glee and clapping my hands together like a super villain in heat:

Floyd “Pretty Boy” Mayweather Jr. (39-0, 147lbs.) vs. Any MMA Fighter (?-?, ?lbs.)

Having opened his mouth yet again, Floyd Mayweather Jr. is finally cornered into actually backing up his words during an appearance on Dave Letterman when Pauly Shaffer and the band play Bon Jovi’s “All Talk, No Action” during Mayweather’s walk in.

Because of his ties to boxing, the fight takes place under Golden Boy and Affliction’s promotion and brings in the best crowd and PPV numbers that organization has yet seen.  It’s the only non-heavyweight fight on a card featuring five other match ups between UFC cast aways.  The lead up to the fight is some of the best MMA tv anyone has ever seen.  Mayweather’s jaw never stops jabbering as he spews on about how his pugilistic prowess is going to shred his opponent into tiny bits of lettuce.  His opponent, ever the respectful martial arts practitioner just nods curtly and awaits the day of the fight… Which comes none too soon.

The bell rings for round one.  Mayweather charges across the ring and, believing in his stupendous hand speed, launches an overhand right at the head of his opponent.  The MMA fighter ducks the punch and shoots for the legs.  Mayweather cries, “Hey you can’t do that!” as his ass gets planted on the canvas.  Not knowing the difference between the guards wearing yellow shirts outside and the guard he should be using, Mayweather instantly finds himself mounted by his opponent.  He has no time to cry “foul” as fists and elbows reign down on his head.   He reaches up, trying to push his opponent off of him who quickly transitions into an arm bar.

Mayweather yells uncle and tries to tap.  The ref just happens to be busy checking his cuticles at that moment as Mayweather’s opponent tears his arm off and launches it into the stands for some lucky fan to take home.

Winner: Anyone by having a F^c&$ng clue.

Finally we come to the bout that might be the only chance for an invincible man to lose:

Fedor “The Last Emporer” Emelianenko (29-1, 233lbs.) vs. Godzilla (8-1, 13,610,667lbs.)

Again fighting in Affliction, the home of the best heavyweights, this one takes place in a square ring.  As the bell rings, the two fighters each take a single step forward.  Godzilla immediately opens his maw and sprays fire across the ring, completely engulfing Fedor.

But, as we saw when King Kong Kevin Randleman dropped Fedor on his head, Fedor is not a force of this earth.  If he is to be beat, the space program will have to fly to his home planet and find Fedorite.  But I digress…

As the smoke clears, suddenly the fans find Fedor has advanced all the way across the ring!  Fedor flies into the air, inverting himself and attaches his body to Godzila’s leg.  Godzilla let’s out his trademark roar as Fedor grabs a hold of his big talon and executes a perfect toe hold.  From Godzilla’s corner Tomoyuki Tanaka laments, “I know we should have cut his toenails!”

Winner: Fedor by toe hold, round 1.

Authors note: The opinions expressed in this article are purely for entertainment purposes and satire.  This author sought to make use of typical stereotypes and common opinions about the personalities of the persons mentioned above and none of what is written necessarily reflects his own personal opinions (other than he’d bet money on GSP taking the GSP – Silva match-up).

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