Let’s Talk About UFC 211
The UFC goes back to the days of stacked events for one night.
This column was originally published in Tuesday’s issue of The Weekly. Subscribe for free to get our original columns and reporting before anyone else.
If you’re anything like me, you’ve experienced a bit of burnout at some point in your tenure as a mixed martial arts fan.
Sure, there are some of you who just can’t get enough cagefighting in your media diet. This despite the tens of thousands of hours of live UFC and Bellator events, regional stuff available on Fight Pass and FloCombat and international cards thrown our way each year. I’m not going to name names, but I do know a few folks who watch everything they can get their hands on and never once complain about oversaturation in the market.
Well, that’s not me. Not these days.
Oversaturation, or Something Else?
I’ll be the first to tell you burnout sank its ugly claws into me long ago, right about the time I started having to spend months on the road traveling from event to event for live coverage.
The first casualty for me was The Ultimate Fighter, which I stopped watching a few years back. Then came the regional cards on AXS and Fight Pass. After that, I started skipping the UFC’s Fight Pass cards because I didn’t feel like waking up in the dead of night.
I started passing on live Fox Sports 1 cards and then FOX network cards, and by this time last year I only watched the very biggest pay per view events. And even then, I missed notable shows. To this day, I haven’t seen UFC 205 from beginning to end.
The problem isn’t burnout (not anymore, at least), because I can’t be burned out when I’m not watching many live events.
The problem boils down to this, I think: Every UFC card feels like every other UFC card. Most Bellator cards — with the exception of the occasional appearance of Scott Coker’s Freaky Fun Circus event — feel the same.
There are entire fight cards from both companies where I’ve never heard of at least 15 of the 20 competitors. And with the UFC, it’s extra tough for anyone to make an impact and be memorable, because all of them look the same with their entirely bland Reebok uniforms that are long past due for an overhaul.
So in a sea of sameness, it’s somewhat remarkable when a card like UFC 211 comes along and sticks out like a sore thumb, or whatever the positive counterpart to a sore thumb might be.
Because folks, this UFC 211 card is some real hot shit, and I don’t mind telling you that I’m feeling a little bit like I did back in 2009 and 2010, back when there were big fights to look forward to on a regular basis.
In fact, this UFC 211 card is so hot and so awesome that I’ve contemplated buying a ticket and driving up to Dallas from my home in Austin, just so I can be there in person. And I’d probably do that if the TV we scored as a wedding gift weren’t so awesome.
You’ve got the heavyweight title fight on top, a rematch between Stipe Miocic and Junior dos Santos, and anyone doubting the potential awesomeness of this fight should take a look back at the first meeting between the two. Dos Santos is perhaps the nicest man in mixed martial arts, with a glowing smile that makes his bloodlust in the cage even more disturbing. And then there’s Stipe, who is maybe the best Twitter personality in the sport or even the world, and who is also a nice man with a knack for wanton violence when the bell rings.
So the main event is awesome. But it’s the other stuff that sends this card into the upper regions of the Chub Scale. (We’ll talk about the Chub Scale some other time).
Joanna Champion, love of my pre-wedded life and terrorizer of humanity, taking on Jessica Andrade? Demian Maia vs. Jorge Masvidal? Eddie Alvarez vs. Dustin Poirier? The return of WSOF division-killer David Branch?
FRANKIE EDGAR VERSUS YAIR GODDAMN RODRIGUEZ?
All five of the fights I’ve just mentioned are fights I desperately want to see, and all six of them are taking place on one single card, in one night.
Even with the loss of Henry Cejudo vs. Junior Pettis, this is still a banging card. In another life, I’d be tweeting the #nopants hashtag incessantly, but as I am now a married man, I must behave like an adult and refrain.
These days, it’s Sean Shelby writing the love letters to hardcore fans. And this one feels like Shelby, after he finished the writing process, probably sprayed the paper with a touch of his best perfume before slipping it in an envelope.
In 2017, we don’t get many of these old throwback cards that are stacked to the gills. They’re a relic from another time and place, back when Joe Silva wasn’t a filthy rich hermit who satisfied his inner MMA nerd by booking fights for other MMA nerds.
These days, it’s Sean Shelby writing the love letters to hardcore fans. And this one feels like Shelby, after he finished the writing process, probably sprayed the paper with a touch of his best cologne before slipping it in an envelope and then smiled, a gleam in his eye.
And we’ll open that envelope come Saturday night, unfold the paper inside, catch just a hint of the sweet, oh-so-fragrant scent it carries and come to a realization: that the thing we used to love is still there and that despite our best efforts to deny it, we’re still in love with it and probably always will be.
