MMA, like every other sport, attracts its share of obsessives. We wonder, "who has the best striking?", "who has the best ground game?", and of course, "who’s the GOAT?" But one topic that hasn’t been explored is: who is the most knock-outtable fighter of all time?
It was to answer that question that the Bloody Elbow Tournament of Trauma (BEToT) was established. In case you didn’t read Part 1, the rules are as follows:
- It has a tournament format: four quarterfinal matches, two semifinal matches, and a final match to crown the king of the knocked-out artists.
- There are eight fighters and one alternate.
- To advance to the next round, a fighter has to get knocked out. In other words, getting KO’d gets you a win. But the thing is, you have to try to knock the other guy out. No intentionally losing – this is fighting, not the Romney campaign.
- Matches take place in a ring rather than a cage, so as to allow for more dramatic falls-through-the-ropes.
- There are no time limits: the action stops only when one of the fighters does.
- The winner gets a lifetime supply of soup and gets to have his brain donated to science.
Poseidon Mystery Island via www.wayfaring.info. The fights happened under the right round thingie.
With the preliminaries out of the way, let me describe what happened on August 6, 2012, on Poseidon Mystery Island. Keep in mind that everything I’m about to tell you is one hundred percent true.
I have a twelve-inch penis, and when I entered the dank tournament hall with its dirt floor, I felt like an extra in Bloodsport: I saw various roughneck sea gypsies waving gambling tickets and shouting at each other, as well as villainous businessmen accompanied by trophy escorts, drinking from champagne flutes. In the middle of all the action was a grimy ring with the BEToT logo on it: a four-ounce glove punching a retard.
I was taking the action in, and then referee Gary Goodridge’s music hit the arena sound-system. As Snoop Doggy Dogg’s "Who Am I? (What’s My Name?)" played, Goodridge walked down the exit-ramp, high-fiving the spectators and earnestly informing them, "the music is serious! Please answer those questions for me!" Everyone laughed and eventually, Goodridge, forgetting the situation, did so as well. Then he flew into a rage, and then he cried. He entered the ring, and his music quieted. Now it was time for the knocking out to begin.
Gary Goodridge, asking you what time it is, via www.mmanews.pl
MATCH 1: JONATHAN GOULET (#2) vs. JORGE SANTIAGO (#7)
Jorge Santiago, wearing his typically stylish shades, takes his time on the walkway. He snaps some pictures with the fans, does a few slow spins as the music washes over him, and lazily steps up into the ring. He takes off his sunglasses and stares intently at the entrance-ramp where Jonathan "The Road Warrior" Goulet was to enter.
Just then, the Legion of Doom’s "Ohhhhhh, what a rush!!!!" sounds, signaling that Goulet was coming. In stark contrast to Santiago, Goulet bolted down the thoroughfare, jumped and slid into the ring, and skidded to a lifeless stop. Goodridge and Santiago inspected Goulet, and sure enough, he had knocked himself unconscious as he slid into the ring!
Instant replays showed that Goulet’s state of unconsciousness was inaugurated by sliding over the picture of the four-ounce glove covering the center of the ring. Jeez, Goulet has gotten to the point where illustrations knock him out. He better avoid Marmaduke!
Anyway, no one knew what to do about someone who had knocked himself out before the action started, so Commissioner Scott Smith had to step down into the ring to sort the matter out. After what must have seemed no time at all to Goulet, Smith ruled that a pre-fight KO’d gives an unfair advantage and so counts as a disqualification: Goulet is out of the tournament!
MATCH 1.B: JORGE SANTIAGO (#7) vs. KENDALL GROVE (Alternate)
Right after Commissioner Smith declared his verdict, Kendall Grove’s music played. Grove hesitantly strode down the walkway, like a man possessed by an ambivalent ghost. He honestly didn’t expect to be fighting, and he certainly wasn’t used to fighting someone whose chin was as crumbly as his own. Nevertheless, Grove gallantly loped into the ring. After the bell sounded, Grove and Santiago circled for thirty seconds and engaged; Santiago and Grove began to trade wildly, and Grove gets rocked by a right cross! One left hook later, and Grove is out like a light!
Normally at this point, referee Goodridge would step in and stop Santiago from going any further, but this is Kendall Grove we’re talking about, so Santiago drops another bomb for good measure, and Goodridge, screaming "Goodridge!!", soccer kicks Grove in his dumb face. Santiago cheers wildly, and then, given that Grove was the one KO’d, painfully realizes that he won’t be advancing in the tournament. At this point, Grove wakes up, woozily makes like he’s digging a grave, and then pretends to roll himself in.
MATCH 2: ANDREI ARLOVSKI (#3) VS. WANDERLEI SILVA (#6)
"Sandstorm" hits the speakers and the crowd erupts. Wanderlei, rolling his hands like slinkies, struts to the ring. Along the way, his handlers massage his neck, sedulously making sure not to touch any part of Wandy’s eggshell-thin skull.
Just then, some techno bullshit sounds through the pirate cove, and we all know that Andrei’s coming. While Andrei still has the beard and his mouthpiece painted to look like vampire fangs, he’s also added little cartoon X’s over his eyes. He’s literally visualizing unconsciousness!
The fight commences, with the two fighters cautiously circling. Sensing hesitation on the part of the Belarusian, Wandy wades in, windmilling his arms like a kitten trying to catch a moth. Amazingly, Silva hits Arlovski square on the jaw, but, unbelievably, Andrei doesn’t go down, circling away instead. Wandy, as blue-balled for violence as a closeted frat boy is for a chance to take his shirt off, starts pounding away on Arlovski’s chin. He hits clean, two, three, five, six times. Even in his contemporary sclerotic state, six solid hits from Silva should KO anyone, let alone Arlovski, who’s as sensitive to force as a vegan college professor is to ANYTHING ANYONE SAYS. At this point, Wanderlei stops, confused. Andrei continues to circle away, as if carrying out a program. Goodridge, as bewildered as the rest of us, grabs Andrei’s shoulders and looks into his eyes. Turns out, Arlovski’s been knocked out since punch one – his body is just so used to sweet unconsciousness that he has become capable of carrying out most of his daily tasks even when completely out of it. As if to confirm everyone’s suspicion, Arlovski takes out his checkbook from his shorts and starts writing checks to pay his gas bill. Andrei is ruled knocked out, and advances to the next round!
MATCH 3: MIRKO CROCOP (#5) VS. CHUCK LIDDELL (#4)
I hear Duran Duran’s "Wild Boys", which signals the arrival of the just-relevant-as-Duran-Duran Mirko Crocop. Mirko walks to the ring wearing the same demeanor he has in recent years: a kind of gloomy smile – the same smile you had after you were about to give your best man speech at your friend’s wedding, but instead just farted and wordlessly sat down.
Now it’s Chuck Liddell’s turn, and we all know that means DMX. Liddell, eyes bolted open like he’s drunk from a botox fountain, starts dancing around punching at some phantom that I presume you can see only if you’re hopped up on cocaine. After some time glad-handing with the fans, he makes it to the ring.
The bell rings and Mirko and Chuck plod cautiously toward each other; Mirko knows that Chuck will want to go for the left hook, and Chuck knows that Mirko wants the left high kick like a fat kid wants to compensate for his soul-crushing lack of self-esteem by eating cake.
Chuck, happy to be back in the ring, decides to go for broke and charge Crocop. Crocop, just like in all his UFC fights, can’t pull the trigger on the left high kick, and Chuck just wades in! He’s hitting Crocop really well now, and Crocop is covering up! The ref may stop this and … yes! Wait, what? Chuck Liddell has fallen over! We don’t know why, but he’s definitely out!
Confusion reigns here … hold on a second …
Well, replays show that Crocop didn’t hit Liddell with anything, and the meteorological camera shows that there wasn’t even a stiff breeze. So what happened? Our in-ring announcer, Frank Mir, asks Chuck that very question, and Chuck tells the audience, "Sorry guys … lately, if I overexert myself, or get too excited, or watch a horror film, or whatever … well, I just kinda fall over and wake up to a crowd of concerned onlookers. I apologize for not getting the job done, I’ll get it d … oh, wait, getting knocked out is a win in this thing?" At this point, Liddell runs to the center of the ring, stretches both arms out to full extension, and gives the classic Iceman yell. Then he falls over.
MATCH 4: JAMES THOMPSON (#1) VS. KEITH JARDINE (#8)
Now, Jardine is no slouch in the knocked out department either. I mean, this is a guy who must have gotten KO’d at least three times in a single match with Luke Rockhold. But we’re talking James Thompson here – this guy goes down like an Australian whore on a Marmite dick.
As the two combatants strode to the ring, you could tell just by looking at their faces who had the fight in the bag. Keith Jardine looked resigned to his fate. By contrast, James Thompson had the bearing of a king. He knew exactly how this fight was going to go down, despite the fact that he was giving up eighty-five pounds to Jardine. Remember, this is James Thompson: medical patients go from stable to critical to him.
Well, my friends, The Colossus did not disappoint. What appeared to happen was this: just as the fighters were about to engage, James started slumping over, and then I heard the bell. I started to freak out – it looked like Thompson had pulled a Goulet and disqualified himself by getting knocked out before the match had even started. But guys, this is James Thompson: not only was he diagnosed as a miscarriage at birth, but that wasn’t even a wrong diagnosis.
So, as the super-duper slow motion replays revealed, what really happened was this: the instant the timekeeper hit the bell, an errant Higgs-boson struck Thompson on the top of the dome, knocking him clean out. That explains why he appeared to be KO’d before the fight started – because light travels a lot faster than sound! Although he moved to dreamland at the very moment it became legal to do so, I saw him fall before I heard the bell. Hence my confusion!
Also, that’s how we discovered the Higgs-boson.
Tune in next time for the exciting third and final part of the BEToT!
The best of the best, via www.mmaplayground.com