UFC is a whole new ball game

Last night, having got up in the wee hours to go upon my computer and organised to have the BBC’s television coverage of the Olympics on in the background, I happened to notice a report upon one of the newspaper websites that they would be providing live updates upon the grudge rematch UFC (mixed martial arts) fight between Conor McGregor and Nate Diaz. I then checked the TV schedules and by chance discovered that the bill concerned (UFC 202) would also be ‘live’ in its entirety on BTSport2 at some point before 7.00am UK time.

I decided to tune in.

Previous to this I had been aware of their first fight which took place in March as part of UFC 196, made at welterweight because Diaz was one (in this case the weight in question being 170 pounds, I’m not sure whether UFC weights are similar to those in pro boxing), the featherweight (155 pound) McGregor – an old-fashioned fighting Irishman – had bulked up two weights to take the contest.

Somewhere along the line I had watched a recording of that fight.

If you haven’t come across UFC before, it’s a fast-growing sport now rapidly rivalling pro boxing in popularity. The contestants fight inside an octagon cage over three or five (five minute) rounds (I believe the latter in title fights) and – to an old-style fan of boxing like me – seem to have virtually no rules whatsoever holding them back. In other words, they box wearing padded half-gloves, but can also kick-box their opponents and/or wrestle them, even throw them to the ground and get them in unlikely holds in order to try and get them to submit. There is a referee on hand, but his only duty seems to be to make sure the fighters ‘break’ at the end of each round or intervene if one of the contestants is about to get killed.

Prior to the March fight McGregor had built up a large winning run, and a massive following, with a great degree of violence and a boastful rhetoric. He plainly believed he was unbeatable, which is why, for a great deal of money, he’d agreed to fight the two-divisions heavier Diaz – who’d only come on the scene at ten day’s notice after McGregor’s original opponent had withdrawn from the fight with an injury.

Anyway. Both fighters came to the cage vowing to knock each other’s block off (nothing unusual there, then) and in the first round McGregor duly beat Diaz’s face to a pulp simply by using his fists, which were fast and (in keeping with the Roberto Duran legend), looked veritable ‘hands of stone’ given the effect they were having on the Diaz dial. To be frank, Diaz looked Henry-Cooper-bad, or even worse – his face was just a mask of blood, which was not only streaming from his eyebrows, eyes and forehead but spattering all over McGregor, the referee and the ringsiders.

However. Come the second round and, although McGregor kept up the ‘punching’ medicine, Diaz showed no concern whatsoever for his own safety – I may add here that in any form of ‘official’ boxing, pro or amateur, the fight would have been stopped inside about two minutes of the first round such was the claret-flow – and suddenly rushed and grappled with the Irishman, wrestled him to the floor and in a nanosecond had him in a neck-stranglehold which meant McGregor had no ability to breath … and in about five seconds, McGregor had no option but to submit.

Game over and victory to Diaz, even though afterwards (of the two) he looked like the guy who was going to have to go to hospital for emergency treatment and about thirty stitches.

McGregor was distraught. He had been beating the crap out of Diaz but had been overpowered by the far bigger man (McGregor is five foot 9, Diaz 6 feet) on the floor.

Back to last night …

Plenty of bad blood had existed between McGregor and Diaz even before they fought the first time (you’d expect that in any form of fighting, it comes with the territory). It had continued immediately after the fight – McGregor felt that he had been progressing towards a comprehensive victory but had somehow, just through bad luck, been caught off-guard, whilst Diaz was full of ‘I’m the cock of the walk’ bravado – and of course the big issue of interest was whether there would be a rematch.

Come last Sunday night in Las Vegas, said item was equal ‘top of the bill’ at UFC 202.

My gut feeling was that, being the smaller man, McGregor was taking on more than he could chew – most Rust readers will be familiar with the old fighter’s adage “A good big ‘un always beats a good little ‘un”.

My limited understanding of the betting odds (never great at the best of times, I hasten to add) was also that Diaz would prevail second time around.

There had been more bad blood and ‘calling out’ at the fight’s press conference and/or weight-in during the week (water bottles being thrown etc.) and, as the fighters came to the cage there was a very definite sense that it was all going to kick off big time immediately they got the chance, so both entourages were making sure they were safe outside the ring and leaning back well before the first bell went.

My interest in boxing was great in my comparative youth (say the ages between 13 to 45) – there is little to beat the primeval thrill of a ‘live’ contest, whether in the flesh, on the radio, or just watched on television – especially when it’s a big title fight and/or when it is between two legends of the ring or even two unbeaten fighters … and you know in advance that one or the other is going to lose his reputation and/or unbeaten record.

I have to be honest, from what little I’ve seen of the relatively insipid fare being put on in Rio, I’ve not been much enthused with the boxing at the Olympics – especially in the context of what have been the occasional inexplicable points decisions by the judges. That’s the trouble with sports that are ‘judged’ – when the evidence of our own eyes (influenced or not by the BBC commentators’ bias in favour of Team GB contestants if any) tells us the guy in blue won by a street … and then, round by round, the judges’ scores come up showing the guy in red won those first two (or even all three) rounds by a country mile … one kind of loses faith in the whole process.

We naturally feel sympathy for those boxers who have worked their socks in their quest for Olympic gold – apparently gave of the best and certainly gave their opponent a drubbing – only then to lose the contest. It makes it seem like they’ve wasted four years of their young lives.

None of that applies in UFC fights, in the sense that the onlookers know that – one way or another – one of the contestants is going to be victorious and the other is just going to be carried out on his shield. Until that happens, there’s no quarter asked or given.

To the nub of it.

Last night’s fight ended in a points split-decision in favour of McGregor at the conclusion of the five rounds. I was pleased about this because secretly, him being the smaller guy, I was willing him to come out on top against the odds.

McGregor has certainly been away, regrouped and prepared diligently for the fight. I don’t mean to imply by that statement that he doesn’t train hard anyway, but on this evidence he’d plainly thought hard and long from a tactical point of view as to what he would need to do in order to come out on top.

In the first two rounds, as in the first fight, he boxed Diaz’s head off. Almost literally. He must have knocked his opponent straight to the floor on three or four occasions with the force of his blows and Diaz’s face was a horror show to the point where, in a film or play, had the director arranged to have that much ‘blood’ on show it would have moved the audience to disbelief and/or shouts of “Fake!”

However, in addition, he kept kicking Diaz’s forward (right) leg. I’m no expert on martial arts, but the commentators kept remarking how hurtful and debilitating the kicks were and how badly they would slow Diaz down. Furthermore, every time Diaz tried to move in and grapple with McGregor the Irishman would stand his ground and defend any move to wrestle him to the floor and/or switch to a wrestling match.

In round three Diaz changed tactics. How he could see out of his right eye by then I do not know, but he came out swinging and suddenly McGregor seemed vulnerable. He got hit, stunned and regularly taken to the side of the cage for ‘work inside’ and wrestling. Upon occasions he seemed but seconds from being thrown to the floor and smothered to defeat. But each time (towards the end of rounds three and four) he somehow lasted out the last minute of the stanza without going down.

Come the last round and it was toe-to-toe, all out war. In all, it was 25 minutes of the most full-on hate-filled vicious fighting one could ever wish to see.

In the end McGregor got the verdict – two judges gave him the bout 48-47 and the other called it a draw. He also walked away with US$3 million (Diaz received US$ 2 million) and much of the talk now is about a third fight.

I’ll be making a date in my diary to watch it (on TV only, natch) if it ever happens