The American fight fan does not appreciate an intelligent gameplan.
Just ask Anderson Silva. Silva took few risks en route to a unanimous decision win over Thales Leites at UFC 97, drawing near-universal ire from fans who paid to see a helpless Christian sacrificed to the middleweight lion. The message came through loud and clear: kill, maim, and pillage. Or die trying.
Following his patient deconstruction of Kimbo Slice, fans have dismissed Roy Nelson’s performance as too cautious, unimpressive. The general tone implying some level of cowardice from “Big Country”.
But let’s face it. The ultimate goal for a fighter, and I don’t think this can be argued, is to inflict damage on his opponent while avoiding his adversary’s attempts to do the same.
This point gets magnified on the Ultimate Fighter. To reach the finals, a contestant will have to fight a minimum of three times within a period of two months. Winning becomes a misnomer; a fighter must SURVIVE to move on to the next round.
I won’t argue that Nelson’s performance deserves to go down in the mythical oral histories of fight sport. The fight was no more aesthetically pleasing than Roy’s full-body profile. But we should at least appreciate the efficiency with which our rotund warrior carried out his gameplan. He lulled Slice into a false sense of striking security and took him down when the opportunity presented itself. From there, Nelson trapped Slice in a crucifix with the cold-blooded and systematic precision of a hungry desert snake.
Nelson exited the cage looking much like he did when he entered it. He won’t have to worry about scar tissuing opening up, nor will he be favoring a fresh ligament sprain. He took complete advantage of the skill mismatch presented to him in the fight.
If you’re still not convinced, picture the following scenario. Roy and Kimbo meet in the center of the Octagon. Following the obligatory feeling out period, punches are thrown. Punches are landed. Roy’s given up all pretense that he’ll bring the fight to the floor. It’s a slugfest that gives Don Frye and Yoshihiro Takayama pause. Nelson rocks Kimbo, sending him stumbling into the fence. Roy rushes in, smelling the fresh blood of Miami meat…
…and then he wakes up with doctor’s shining lights in his eyes. Roy asks what happened. “You just got your ass knocked out, son.”
Imagine the adjectives we’d use to describe Roy on Thursday morning. Stupid. Reckless. Bone-headed. (And let’s not forget the most obvious: fat.)
The fight certainly fell far short of the promotional muscle Zuffa put behind it, of that there is no question. But Roy played the game exactly like he should. And for that, I can find no fault.