Between Rounds by Joe Hall (March 20, 2003)
Rodrigo Nogueira was separating himself from the heavyweight class. He was devouring the best big men in the world and finishing nearly all of them. With each dominating win, he seemed to grow closer and closer to invincibility.
Unbeatable.
That's a dangerous label for a mixed martial artist. History has shown just when everyone starts slapping such a title on a fighter, that fighter is soon to fall. Vitor Belfort is the classic example. As soon as he became "invincible," he was pummeled by an ageless Randy Couture.
"Minotauro," as good as he is, is the most recent illustration. As he blazed through the heavyweight ranks of Pride, some fans and media members smacked "unbeatable" stickers on the Brazilian heavyweight. Even though he was more deserving of the mark than anyone before him, he suffered the same fate.
The difference between Nogueira and Belfort is obvious. Belfort was largely hype; his was a superficial rise. Nogueira is proven; he became "unbeatable" after beating almost everyone. Almost.
The nature of mixed martial arts opposes the idea of an unbeatable fighter. Invincibility is rare in all sports, but it's especially exceptional in MMA. A multitude of variables are present in every fight, which is significant for several reasons.
First, these variables make possible a diversity of action and finishes. A bout can end by toehold, guillotine choke, left hook or head kick. It can close by a fighter stopping a leg lock attempt and pounding his opponent, or a fighter kneeing an opponent in the face when the foe is shooting for a takedown. The possibilities are endless.
Second, the variability of action and conclusions thin the skill discrepancies between fighters. For example, Fighter A has wrestled and boxed his whole life, and Fighter B is a submission wizard. If they wrestled, Fighter A would overwhelmingly win. Same goes for a boxing match. In a submission wrestling match, Fighter B would easily tap Fighter A. In an MMA fight, however, the skill differences would be diminished.
A match can end from a submission, but it can also conclude from a slam or a punch. This doesn't mean that the better-rounded Fighter A wouldn't have an advantage. It means that an MMA bout between the two will probably be more competitive than a wrestling, boxing or submission wrestling match.
Finally, due to the reduction in skill dissimilarities between fighters, the competitive nature of MMA makes upsets more likely. The difference between a top-20 and a top-10 fighter in MMA is not much. There is a wealth of fighters who haven't yet emerged, though they are capable of beating a top-10 or better fighter. And they're capable partly because of the sport's variability.
It then follows that the idea of an unbeatable fighter in MMA is ? well, an idea and nothing more. I'm not saying that every match is a tossup. Some fighters are clearly superior, regardless of the potentiality of an MMA fight. As a whole, though, the sport is endlessly variable, fiercely competitive and filled with proficient fighters.
A few rise from this cauldron of competition, like Nogueira. Maintaining perspective on the nature of the sport teaches us to measure the greats not by whether they are unbeatable, but by how long and how they stay at the top. For it's only a matter of time before they fall.
NOGUEIRA'S NOT DONE
A popular consequence of the frequently short reigns of fighters at the top is the abandonment of the fighter after a loss. They're unbeatable one day and done the next. This doesn't seem to be the case with Nogueira, whom the majority appear to wisely still believe in.
"Minotauro" ran into a prepared and skilled fighter who executed an excellent gameplan. He fought gallantly, eating leather from the hardest hitter on the ground in the sport, and he never quit attacking.
For 20 minutes, Nogueira fought as hard as he could to stay at the top. For two and a half years, he chased invincibility. In the end, he lost and the ungraspable trait remained elusive even to a fighter as great as Nogueira.
He was No. 1, and now he should be No. 2. Simple as that. He's still better than all the other heavyweights.
Don't think for a second Fedor has become unbeatable. He'll fall too, and a rematch with Nogueira may mark his demise.
THE RUSSIAN NIGHTMARE
I don't care if it sticks. Emelianenko Fedor is The Russian Nightmare. I never thought I'd see a fighter so eagerly step down into Rodrigo Nogueira's perilous guard. Fedor was at home where others have been choked and had their arms torqued in every possible direction. He shrugged off Nogueira's submissions with an apathetic confidence, twice ripping his arm out of kimura attempts when he appeared to be in danger.
The bombs were dropping, too. With each defense, Fedor retaliated with clubbing right and left hands. Even in small openings, he somehow generated a storm of power unrivaled by any ground-and-pound fighter in the sport. The most impressive display was in the first round, when Fedor smashed a series of heavy shots into Nogueira's chin, which set the course for the remainder of the fight.
THE SAKURABA FANS' NIGHTMARE
It was depressing. Legendary Kazushi Sakuraba, known for beating the Gracies, reduced to a bloodied and beaten up shell of his better days. The same Sakuraba who fought for 90 minutes in his first round match at the Pride Grand Prix and courageously continued against heavyweight Igor Vovchanchyn in the next round, lay battered by a far inferior and smaller opponent.
The beating was as one-sided as Saku's win over Gilles Arsene. (Thankfully, this catastrophe happened against a reputable Jiu-Jitsu artist, Nino Schembri, rather than against Arsene.) Then, as I was wondering which strike would knock out Schembri, Sakuraba solemnly dropped to his knees. He had eaten a knee, and he slowly fell face first into the canvas after consuming several more. Sakuraba the Legend laid vulnerable on the mat, and Schembri snapped down a few more kicks for good measure. The defeat was as sudden as sad.
In hindsight, I blame those who fed Sakuraba to a heavier and ruthless Vanderlei Silva. I blame those who sacrificed him to Mirko Filipovic. I blame Sakuraba, who apparently failed to take care of himself. But I also thank him. I appreciate all the unforgettable performances.
Unfortunately, his devastating loss to Schembri at Pride 25 is unforgettable, too.
KENTUCKY CLAIMS STIEBLING
They may announce Alex Stiebling as hailing from Indianapolis, but they're wrong. He may be fighting out of Indiana, but he's from Kentucky. Louisville, to be exact. Trinity High School.
Clearly, the heart Stiebling showed in the second round against Akira Shoji is something we breed in the Bluegrass. After taking a shot on the chin, the young fighter traveled to the state between conscious and unconsciousness, and, despite Shoji's relentless assault, Stiebling found his way home.
Few fighters have the chin or the capacity to walk that line and return. A comeback to consciousness depends on an opponent's ability to follow up, but one's heart is also a deciding factor. When Shoji flurried to finish and it came down to Stiebling's spirit, the Kentucky Boy delivered and then some.
In the same round, Stiebling narrowly escaped defeat and just missed victory. If either Shoji or Stiebling hadn't possessed their tremendous hearts, an enthralling battle that went the distance would have been a mediocre match that ended in the second round.
As for Stiebling's brashness and "Brazilian Killa" persona, which is atypical to most Kentuckians, it's explainable. Like I said, he's from Louisville, not from Lexington.
CHUTE BOXE'S BEST?
They say Anderson Silva is the most technical fighter from the Chute Boxe camp. I believe it. Of course, I also think Chute Boxe produces more skilled brawlers than tacticians.
Either way, Silva is for real. He may have the best jab in the sport, which is a shame for his opponents. Although Alexander Otsuka successfully shot on Silva a couple times, attacking his legs for a takedown looks like a bad idea if he's in flying knee mode. The better way, which Newton used fruitfully, may be an upper body takedown.
Silva doesn't have the strongest upper body and is vulnerable to throws and body locks, as Newton showed with his first takedown. The only problem is that pesky jab, which Silva uses artfully to keep opponents from closing the distance.
Get past his jab, get a bodylock and he can be taken down. Stay at the end of his jab, and you engage him on the feet at your own risk. I'd ask Alex Stiebling before trying that one, though. Shoot on him, and you may get the takedown, but you may also get a knee in the face.
Even though Newton initially steamrolled Silva's ground game, the lanky Brazilian is no slouch on the mat either. He can do it all, and that's why I'm a little disappointed that his foray into Pride has lifted him from the welterweight to middleweight class and separated him from Matt Hughes.
More than Frank Trigg and more than Sean Sherk, I feel that Silva has the best shot at beating Hughes. I'm not saying he would, but former Chute Boxe fighter Pele has done it. Sure, Hughes is better now, and Pele was probably heavier than Silva currently is. But hey, someone has to beat Hughes -- he's becoming unbeatable."
"..Ktokolwiek by zabił Kaina, siedmiokrotną pomstę poniesie! Dał też Pan znamię Kainowi, aby go nie zabił, ktokolwiek go spotka... Po czym Kain odszedł od Pana..."