Mixed martial arts getting a fighting chance
John Maher, Statesman.com, 5th March 2006
Controversial mixed martial arts seeing resurgence
Backstage at the Erwin Center, “Special” Ed Rhue calmly takes a last swig of his sports drink before striding out for his pro debut in a mixed martial arts bout, which the ring announcer has just bellowed is “the toughest fighting allowed by law in the state of Texas.”
Soon after entering the chain link cage, Rhue draws “oohs” and “aahs” from the crowd as his more muscular and seasoned opponent, Shawn Freese, picks him up and slams him to the mat — and then repeats the move for good measure.
Rhue, a surveyor by day and loser of three of four amateur bouts, had sized up things this way: “The guy was 21-4. He was bigger and stronger than me. I knew the only chance I had was if he didn’t have a lot of gas in his tank. I let him pick me up, trying to tire him out.”
Just when it looks as if Rhue is about to be pounded again, he catches Freese with a knee to his face, forcing Freese to quit after the first of a scheduled three three-minute rounds.
“Dude, I broke his nose!” Rhue gushes to a well-wisher. “I’m on top of the world! The only thing better than that was watching my kids being born. And I have to say that because they’re my kids.”
Rhue and the Erwin Center got their first tastes of professional mixed martial arts with a Renegades Extreme Fighting show last month that drew more than 4,000 fans. February also brought Xtreme Promotions to the Austin Convention Center, featuring one of the biggest names in the sport, Chuck “The Iceman” Liddell, signing autographs.
Decried by critics as “human cockfighting” and almost forced into submission a decade ago, the controversial sport is making a comeback. The revival has been spurred nationally by a reality television show, Spike TV’s “The Ultimate Fighter,” and locally by rule changes, including one that allows Texas fighters to finally haul off and punch their foes in the face with the 4- or 8-ounce gloves they wear.
“It’s 110 percent better for fans,” said Phil Cardella, an instructor at the Relson Gracie Jiu Jitsu academy in Austin.
“The activity is getting bigger and bigger,” agreed Greg Alvarez, administrative assistant of combative sports for the Texas Department of Licensing and Regulation. “Within a year or two, I think it will be as big as boxing in Texas.”
Growing pains
Mixed martial arts traces its roots back to Brazil and the fighting style Vale Tudo — Portuguese for everything goes — in which the Gracie family became known for its dominating style of jiu jitsu. It arrived in the U.S. in 1993 as the Ultimate Fighting Championship, of which early promoters boasted: “There are no rules,” and all but promised mayhem, blood and the possibility of death.
Early cards looked like they were dreamed up at last call.
“It was kind of a freak show. They had sumo wrestlers and big guys fighting little guys,” Cardella said.
Predictably, it was not long before matches drew the attention of legislators, most notably boxing fan Sen. John McCain of Arizona. In 1997 McCain became chairman of the Senate Commerce Committee, which oversees the cable television and sports industries. Not long thereafter, cable operators started tapping out on the Ultimate Fighting Championship, and its once popular and lucrative pay-per-view bouts began disappearing from carriers.
States also began making it hard to promote bouts. Texas allowed pankration fights, harking back to the ancient Olympic sport. Fighters were allowed to strike with a closed fist to the body, but not to the face.
“It looked like slap fighting,” said Paul Erickson, a research analyst who has a popular Web page devoted to mixed martial arts in Texas, txmma.com.
Fighter Nick Gonzalez said, “The open-hand strikes, that made no sense. I’d rather get punched in the face than kicked or kneed, but that’s just me.”
The big boxing states, however, began to take note of the rising popularity and profitability of the sport, which has increased since 2001 when Las Vegas casino owners and brothers Lorenzo and Frank Fertitta and friend Dana White took over Ultimate Fighting Championship.
Liddell’s recent rubber-match victory in Las Vegas against Randy “The Natural” Couture came before a sellout crowd of more than 14,000 fans, with an estimated 300,000 pay-per-view buys. Spike’s reality show, “The Ultimate Fighter,” has been a cable TV hit, particularly with the target audience of 18- to 34-year-old males.
States such as Nevada, New Jersey and recently California and Texas have changed regulations to allow forms of ultimate fighting.
Not everything goes, however, under Texas’ new rules. There are 34 things a fighter still can’t do, including head butting, hair pulling, biting or spitting, eye gouging, stomping or kicking a grounded opponent, striking the groin and throwing the opponent out of the ring or cage.
Proponents of mixed martial arts claim it’s safer than boxing — although what isn’t?
In a typical year, there might be six to 12 deaths worldwide in boxing with two to four coming in the United States, although there were five last year. Toughman-style competitions, which match boxing wannabes of various skill levels, have proved to be particularly lethal, accounting for 14 deaths in 26 years. In contrast, there’s been no known death in mixed martial arts in the United States, and researchers cite only one in the world, a 1998 death in the Ukraine.
Gregory Bledsoe, an assistant professor in the department of emergency medicine at Johns Hopkins University, has data slated to be published in The Journal of Sports Science and Medicine. It indicates the overall injury rate for mixed martial arts is comparable to that of professional boxing, but the knockout rate is about half that of boxing’s.
Brain injuries, which can occur even in amateur bouts and sparring, are the deadliest aspect of boxing. Proponents of mixed martial arts claim there is significantly less chance of those in their sport because fighters don’t receive standing eight counts or suffer multiple knockdowns. There also isn’t as much standing and punching to the head.
“Ninety percent of the fights end up on the mat,” Cardella said.
Erickson added, “It (mixed martial arts) is perceived as a lot more dangerous than it is. Some spectators are underwhelmed when they see it. It’s regulated sport. You don’t see the carny aspect any more.”
The Texas Department of Licensing and Regulation, which has overseen boxing since 1933, also regulates mixed martial arts. Certified combatants can compete in either sport.
Alvarez said, as with boxing matches in Texas, there are two timekeepers at mixed martial arts bouts, along with three judges, two referees, two physicians, two paramedics, a gurney, a resuscitator, a defibrillator and an ambulance.
That’s not to say matches aren’t bloody or dangerous, with fighters trying a variety of submission holds or just getting on top of an opponent and pounding away, known as “ground and pound.”
Erickson said that in the earliest days, “There was a science experiment aspect to it. What happens when you put a kung fu guy against a sumo guy or a judo guy against a karate guy?”
Now, Gonzalez said, “If you don’t do cross training, you’re stuck in the past.”
‘They do like their beer’
Some of the most popular martial art forms used are Brazilian jiu jitsu, Muay Thai kickboxing and amateur wrestling, not the WWE style, for takedowns and control. Austin competitor Steve Jimenez teaches Krav Maga, a form of self defense used by the Israeli army. Jimenez said with that, “There are no katas, no forms. The style changes as the world and the battlefield changes.”
In addition to a knowledge of martial arts and a high pain tolerance, fighters also seem to share a fondness for tattoos. To really stand out at the Erwin Center event, a fighter had to have a multi-colored tableau that covered about half of his back.
Even though a cold front blew in that Friday night of Feb. 10 — and the 10-bout card’s main attraction, Ricco “Suave” Rodriguez had earlier pulled out with an injury — more than 4,100 fans showed up to see fighters long on local ties but short on professional experience.
One of those on hand was local boxing promoter Richard Lord.
“I’m teaching a couple of these guys how to punch,” Lord said. “What I’m noticing is how many tickets they sold. I don’t want to be too much of a diehard boxing purist.”
“From all indication it seems to be successful,” said Jimmy Earl, the associate director of the Erwin Center.
Tickets ranged from $20 to $50 for that event, and Alvarez said the gate was more than $100,000, and that didn’t include concessions.
“They do like their beer,” Earl said of the fans.
Spectator Kraig Wasik from the Temple-area mixed martial arts club, the Grappler’s Lair, was sitting out this card with a fractured eye socket suffered in the sport.
“It’s just fun,” Wasik said. “I can’t wait to get back in.”