UFC 75: The End of PRIDE

“This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.”
- T.S Eliot, “The Hollow Men” 1925

Having religiously watched both PRIDE and the UFC over the years, this Saturday’s Dan Henderson v. Quinton Jackson match feels a bit anticlimactic. UFC 75 was supposed to be the biggest show in mixed martial arts’ history: a bout to unify the belts of MMA’s most prestigious division, the 205 lb weight class. And with all due respect to Henderson and Jackson, rightful and worthy champions both, this fight wasn’t supposed to feature either of them; the crowning of an undisputed light heavyweight champion was supposed to be Wanderlei Silva taking on Chuck Liddell.

When talk of dream matches used to make its way into conversation, it tended to center on the light heavyweights, in part because the most popular fighters resided there, and partly out of default. MMA is unique unto itself in that it was always the light heavyweight division that garnered the most attention. PRIDE’s biggest stars were always light heavies: Sakuraba, Silva, Hidehiko Yoshida. The UFC was the same: Liddell, Tito Ortiz, Vitor Belfort, and Randy Couture all were/are 205 pound fighters.

PRIDE always had an amazing heavyweight class, with men like Nogueira, Barnett, Fedor, and CroCop. The UFC had Tim Sylvia, Ricco Rodriguez, and Gan McGee. You can see why your hardcore fan didn’t sit awake at night thinking about those possible matches. It wasn’t until Couture returned to the heavyweight division and won the belt from Sylvia that any talk of a dream UFC v. PRIDE match started up, and by that time PRIDE was already gone.

On the other hand, for years the UFC maintained an outstanding welterweight division with fighters like Matt Hughes, Carlos Newton, Frank Trigg, Sean Sherk, and most recently, Georges St. Pierre. Till the day it closed, PRIDE never once featured a 170 lb fight. And while PRIDE created a stacked lightweight division with Hayato Sakurai, Takanori Gomi, and Tatsuya Kawajiri, the UFC let their title float in limbo.

When the inevitable PRIDE v. UFC battle for supremacy took place, fight fans knew it was the light heavyweight division where the war would be decided. And no two men represented their companies better than Silva and Liddell. Each man had been both the kingpin and face of their respective promotions. Liddell would knockout Couture, Ortiz, and Randleman. Silva would answer by defeating Jackson, Sakuraba, and Arona. When the UFC exploded in popularity, it was Liddell that drew the biggest crowds. When PRIDE attempted to come to America, it was Silva the fans clamored to see. Even if new fighters came forward (like Mauricio “Shogun” Rua) to lay claim to being the divisions best, Silva v. Liddell was “the match” because neither had been knocked off their throne. Pro wrestling had Ric Flair v. Hulk Hogan, MMA was supposed to have Liddell v. Silva – that was the bang to end the MMA rivalry.

Instead, in whimper champions Jackson and Henderson, both so new in the role that this Saturday’s fight guarantees one of them will never successfully defend their title. This isn’t to take anything away from either man; neither won their championship on a fluke and both have more than paid their dues. But, instead of featuring the two biggest stars, from the most marquee division, unifying the belts, we get a fight that’s of so little importance it’s on Spike TV, not PPV. Again: what was supposed to be the biggest fight in MMA history is being shown on free TV. What’s more, it’s taking place in London. London. Nothing against London, but shouldn’t this be held at a fight Mecca: the Tokyo Dome, the MGM Grand, or maybe even the L.A. Coliseum (it was good enough for Brock Lesnar’s MMA debut)? London is a fine city with amazing fans, but did anyone ever envision the biggest fight of all time taking place anywhere but America or Japan?

The city that withstood The Blitz will be host to a great fight. Henderson, though almost completely unknown to UFC fans, is the only fighter in MMA history to concurrently hold titles from two different weight classes. Jackson has finally broken through the glass ceiling and grabbed a title belt of his own – from the biggest MMArtist in American history, on one of the biggest PPVs of all time, no less. These two will meet and anyone predicting a winner with any degree of certainty is a liar; fighters this good always stand a chance of winning. The crisp jab, solid inside knees, and awe inspiring slams of Jackson will go against the always find a way to win even though it doesn’t seem possible to do so, make it ugly if you have to but always make it a win, attitude of Henderson. This time, I won’t beg you to watch, but if you do, you probably won’t have regrets.

I look forward to UFC 75, I really do. The-Man-Who-Knocked-Out-Silva v. The-Man-Who-Knocked-Out-Liddell isn’t quite as sexy as Silva v. Liddell, but as far as main-events go, it shall more than suffice. And if all the cards fall right in September, and no one slips on a metal pole backstage before December, maybe I’ll get to see this past half-decades two most dominant light heavyweights go at it. But it won’t really be the same. A dying rose can still let free the occasional scent that reminds you of how great it once was, but when you walk away you know that it’s closer to death than to life. When – if – Silva and Liddell fight, it’s going to be a dying rose. “Their” titles, the belts they breathed credibility into throughout the years, will be gone. They won’t fight as representatives of their companies, they’ll fight for the same company. If fate demands, maybe they’ll even fight for the unified light heavyweight title, but it will be just a singular belt. It wasn’t just Silva v. Liddell, it wasn’t just Silva v. Liddell for a title, it was Silva v. Liddell with all the titles, all the pride (and PRIDE), all the glory, all the hopes, all the dreams, and all the arguments about “what if” on the line. There is only one chance to unify the sport’s titles and it’s happening this Saturday.

PRIDE is dead. It has been for some time and UFC 75 is a widow laying down a flower. The most important of all the PRIDE belts will evaporate into the ether and there won’t be a legion of PRIDE fans in attendance cheering on Henderson, hoping that “their PRIDE fighter” wins the big match. Instead, it’ll be thousands of rabid Londoners roaring as Jackson and Henderson engage in what will no doubt be a riveting contest. English fans, some of the most passionate sports fans on the planet, will be up to the challenge of creating an atmosphere worthy of the biggest match of all time – it’s just too bad it doesn’t feel like such a fight. {plug}