Man's Take Magazine

Itʼs Alive! The Magnificent Mutation of Mixed Martial Arts in America

1993: The first contact I had with the UFC® occurred while living in a Waikiki youth hostel. We were six to a room. Sometimes tensions flared and things became more “hostile” than “hostel”, leading to the occasional scrap (and perhaps the subsequent bonding of friendships). However, we were also blessed with the calming effect of everyone’s favorite plug-in-drug: cable television.

After a day of working, job-hunting, or hitting the beach (in some cases all three), there was a bit of surrogate “family time” in the evenings. Everyone relaxed and watched TV while group meals were prepared in the kitchenette (lots noodles and Spam).

We enjoyed Cops, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, and the local Honolulu news broadcasts (escaped elephants, meth busts, hula-dancers, and the weather report). One night I remember breaking off a conversation because something caught my attention on the television screen. There was a cage with fighters of all styles having it out like some real-life Bloodsport meets monster-truck event.

It was an advertisement for the first UFC. It was being promoted like a cross between Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, Enter the Dragon and one of those old-fashioned carnivals that boasted freaks, strong men, and the “mysteries of the Orient”. It was Karate vs. Judo vs. TaeKwonDo vs. Kung Fu vs. Jiu-jitsu vs. Sumo, and anything else you could think of. I felt as though a lightning bolt had just jarred inanimate matter inside me to life. It was just a commercial, but in that moment…I was hooked.

1994: It was a number of months before I actually managed to get my hands on a videotape of that event, and the results were…surprising. There were no gloves, no weight classes, and no time limits. Some of the fights were brutal, but others were decidedly not.

It was a tournament format, and the victor was a man by the name of Royce Gracie. He was significantly smaller than most of the other competitors. His style was Brazilian Jiu-jitsu (which I was unfamiliar with), and he methodically defeated every opponent like a patient, gi-clad boa constrictor.

I couldn’t always figure out how he even won; I just witnessed victim after victim tapping out to…whatever it was he was doing. I had expected to see fights being won by flying kicks and spinning back-fists, and yet this slow, deceptive, South American strain of grappling ruled the day, sending everybody else home to re-evaluate their skills and heal up.

For the next couple of years, I devoured every fight tape I could get. There were other smaller promotions like Battlecade Extreme-fighting and the World Combat Championship. I watched everything I could, and in 1996 started training BJJ myself.

1997: By this point things had evolved. Four ounce gloves were now regulation, time limits were established, and weight classes were instituted. Jiu-jitsu training became de rigueur for anyone wanting to prevail, regardless of other skills, but at the same time, strikers were making their mark as well. The term “mixed martial arts” itself competed with other labels like “no-rules-fighting”, “no holds barred”, “vale tudo”, “extreme fighting”, “cage matches”, and “ultimate fighting” before finally becoming the accepted name for the sport. It was about this time I heard of a new Japanese promotion called “Pride”.

Pride Fighting Championships had higher purses, higher caliber fighters, and used a ring instead of a cage. The company also produced a more upscale show that featured (among other things) man-made snow-storms, traditional Japanese drumming, and ring girls that looked like sexy/cute anime androids. In one particular bout, when pitted against Kevin “Donkey- Kong” Randleman, Kazushi Sakuraba made his entrance dressed as Nintendoʼs Mario (complete with a mustache and a huge wooden hammer), with the Mario Bros. theme music playing, and a giant “1-up” mushroom bounced on the massive television screens.

The psych-war was brilliant. Not only did Sakuraba allude to Randlemanʼs ring-name by becoming his video game nemesis (who used technique over brute strength), he also disrupted his opponent’s mental pattern by using the whimsical 8-bit music (which was in stark contrast to the trying-too-hard-to-be-tough tunes that most fighters rely on like sonic steroids). This was truly “meta-fighting”, using humor as a weapon and landing the first (albeit a mental one) blow of the fight with a cartoon hammer. It was Sun Tzu meets Looney Tunes (and Sakuraba won by armbar).

1998: During this period I wasn’t living near a proper BJJ academy, but learned what I could from instructional videos and trained informally with friends who were also MMA fans. Sometimes, we staged good natured challenge fights at parties, and we anxiously awaited the next UFC events. The level of competition seemed to be skyrocketing, just as the court of public opinion seemed to be turning on the sport, like a crowd of torch-bearing villagers, suspicious of what was going on in the castle laboratory. 

It was long before pay-per-views were being banned and the video stores stopped carrying the recorded shows. However, there remained a core group of fans who would, by hook or by crook, manage to view the fights. I have fond memories of UFC parties with full spreads of food, side bets, and even some hot girls for distraction. I also have fond memories of sitting on a folding chair, eating ramen, and watching a third generation VHS copy of some fights in a cold basement by myself.

2000ʼs: Since 1993 there had been a proliferation of smaller “mom and pop” fight promotions. These events very enjoyable and recaptured some of the carnie style danger of the early UFCʼs. Attending these events was a good way to support local fighters and see some live action. Often the venues would be…uh…less than packed, and it was apparent that the sport’s popularity hadn’t quite caught fire yet. Still, all the elements were coming together: devoted fans, smaller promotions producing a massive, well trained crop of fighters, and the bans had been lifted on the PPV events.

And then, the switch was thrown. Everything changed with the first season of The Ultimate Fighter on Spike, which hooks the viewer in with soap-opera like  drama as well as actual scrapping. I admit that it is a guilty pleasure of mine to back one fighter over another based on their behavior on the show. The tipping point had been reached and soon fighters like Tito Ortiz and Ken Shamrock became household names.

Fighters started to make cameos in films, appear on covers of fitness magazines, and fight apparel became available at shopping malls. The level of competition is now at a dizzying height and you can catch the fights at a sports bar. Throughout the 1990ʼs, one had to wait months to catch a glimpse of a new event. In 2009 the sport is almost inescapable. There are multiple promotions staging shows on the same night, YouTube videos posted in near real-time (and often taken down just as swiftly by proprietary interests), half a dozen magazine titles devoted to MMA in Barnes and Noble, and MMA classes offered all over the country.

The game itself has also evolved. Nowadays successful fighters tend to have an eclectic skill-set that is generally a stew made up of the following ingredients (in varying degrees): BJJ, Muay Thai, wrestling, western boxing, Judo, and… Capoiera (just kidding).

Certain flashy styles have been relegated to exhibitions or competitions with more restrictive rules. These styles are unable to make the Darwinian cut in the cage. It’s not that that these arts donʼt have value, itʼs simply that their value doesnʼt translate to an MMA format. Ballet is beautiful to watch and requires amazing athletic talent, but is not conducive to winning fights. Personally, I would enjoy watching a ballerina enter the cage to the strains of Swan Lake, catching somebody with a high graceful kick, and knocking them cold. But, I would still recommend training some nuts-and-bolts combatives between pirouettes.

On the flip side of that coin, some disciplines are a little too lethal for MMA. Martial arts that employ biting, eye-gouging, small joint manipulation, groin strikes and other highly effective fight-ending techniques, cannot bring these skills to the cage for safety reasons. It is generally agreed that these are reasonable restrictions, and allow for longer careers. Youʼd never be able to read your six figure contract with your eyes gouged out.

Other prohibited actions are a little more controversial. Under unified rules, foot stomps, downward elbows, head-butts, and kicking a downed opponent are forbidden. Pride allowed these things and former Pride fighters have had to adjust. These unified rules have cleared the way for events to be hosted all over the country and all over the world (where they were previously illegal).

Beyond fight-technique, fighters now also pay more attention to the big picture. Nutrition, strength and conditioning, weight-cutting, cardio training, and sports medicine are all part of the serious competitor’s regimen. Image is also a concern. Rivalries, though sometimes organic, are often concocted to generate hype (and revenue). No one it seems is without a ring-name and a laundry list of sponsors (conveniently emblazoned directly on to their laundry).

The business end of things is like an avalanche of PPVʼs, DVDʼs, t-shirts, softdrinks, trading cards, and stickers. It is surreal. I actually bought a Fedor Emelianenko lighter at a truck-stop last year, just because I couldnʼt believe such a thing existed. Now, I just take things like that in stride. MMA fighter on American Idle? Sure. Wanderlei dances with the “stars”? Why not. Dana White for president? He already is.

From the seed of that first television spot to the insane Frankensport now known nationwide as “MMA”, the evolution of no-holds-barred fighting shows no sign of slowing down. Lock your doors, and enjoy the ride.

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