Follow us on

'.

MMA

The League of Extraordinary Journeymen 3: Middleweights of UFC Brisbane

Welcome, friends, to the League of Extraordinary Journeymen, a series wherein Connor Ruebusch and Phil Mackenzie’s crippling MMA dependencies compel them to discuss the UFC’s enigmatic middleweight division. It’s bound to get a little weird.

UFC 196 didn’t have much to offer in the way of middleweight action (sorry, Miranda-Guimaraes), so our last installment dealt with UFC London, headlined by a suitably strange bout between Anderson Silva and Michael Bisping. Six other middleweights duked it out with similarly compelling results, further confusing the sludgy morass that is the UFC’s middleweight division.

UFC LONDON RECAP

Bradley Scott vs Krzysztof Jotko

Phil: Jotko has something which is like gold dust among generic middleweights. He has just a little bit of… speed. When you see it, you realize how weirdly rare it is.

Connor: You’re on the mark there. Not only is Jotko very quick for a middleweight, but he has shown an increasing ability to put that speed to good use. Once upon a time the Pole did a lot of inefficient moving and eccentric striking, but not much damage. In this fight he was very disciplined. He kept Scott on the end of his punches whenever possible, denied him the clinch, and overall avoided tangling with the size and strength that I felt sure would lead Scott to victory.

He’s only 26, too, so this win has me pretty excited to see what Jotko can do in future. For a guy who could probably make 170, he’s carved out a nice niche for himself in the League of Extraordinary Journeymen.

Scott Askham vs Chris Dempsey

Phil: Pleasing. Chris Dempsey seems like a nice guy, but that knockout was all kinds of fun to watch. There’s nothing quite like a “Finish Him” wobble into a walkoff headkick.

Connor: Indeed. I’m still a little worried by the ease with which Dempsey got Askham down early. He’s going to need some better tools at distance if he hopes to put any kind of run together. Something to allow him to control when the fight takes place in close. But this fight confirms that he is as sneakily dangerous as I suspected. And also that Dempsey is as fragile as we knew him to be.

Phil: Snap. It’s one thing to give up takedowns to Cedenblad and Jotko, quite another to give them up to Dempsey. He was aggressive off his back, but he really shouldn’t have been taken down in the first place. A fighting style comprising the approximate notes of “like Carlos Condit, but made out of steam-powered mining equipment” is fun to watch, but not necessarily stable long-term.

Gegard Mousasi vs Thales Leites

Phil: Sometimes a result might match your predictions, but the fight itself has you reconfiguring your internal model. Not this one, no sir. This was the most Mousasi-Leites fight possible. I think we could probably have described every single exchange without ever actually watching it.

Connor: On the contrary, I expected Leites to be just a little more competitive. I actually thought he had a shot here, given the improved understanding of range and timing he displayed against Bisping. Alas, Gegard Mousasi’s jab is something to be feared. There are not many fighters in MMA, no less the middleweight division, with a jab that so deftly switches from measuring to hiding to hurting. Without a viable wrestling threat, Gegard Mousasi is truly a dangerous striker. Props to Lyoto Machida!

Phil: and Jacare, too! I think it did emphasize that almost completely unbridged gap (Tim Kennedy maybe?) between the upper level fighters and the truly elite, one which is perhaps more jarring in this division than any other. I was glad to see someone coming out of this one looking good, though, and I’m glad to see Mousasi shrugging off the Hall loss with his characteristic insouciance.

Anderson Silva vs Michael Bisping

Phil: OK, so this was a weird result, but also, was this… a good result? For everyone? Bisping gets the big win, Silva gets to ride the cage again and gets to feel like he was able to compete, while it becomes increasingly a bit clearer that he should leave?

Connor: I’m with you there. For any who haven’t seen it already, I would encourage all MMA fans to read your post-fight piece on Michael Bisping. For better and worse, this fight represented “The Count” perfectly. He was outspeeded and overpowered at points, but he just kept chipping away and hanging in there. He finally got to beat the guy that he’s dreamed of fighting for years. Even if this was no longer the Anderson Silva who had ravaged the middleweight division as champion, Bisping’s victory was a well-deserved consolation prize for years of reliable, workmanlike entertainment. It was a win for journeymen everywhere.

    You can always COUNT on Michael Bisping. Hahaha . . . hah. Photo by Christopher Lee|Getty Images

Phil: You’ve said this before re: Condit, but Bisping is definitely one of those guys I’m going to enjoy lecturing young people about when I’m an interminable old fart. “You see, Poe, there was once a fighter who embodied the gatekeeper ethic like no other. His story begins many years ago, back in the City of Manchester…” and so on, for several hours.

I like to hope that it’s good for Anderson, too, to have these competitive fights. I’m sure it’s painful, but I think it’s somehow important that he gets time to say goodbye to his fighting ability over time rather than it just being yanked away from him as it looked like it might have been by the Weidman losses.

Connor: Agreed. As far as painful post-prime performances go, this was a fairly soft letdown for Anderson. He’s in for more disappointment if he runs around clinging to the belief that he clearly beat Bisping, but at least he got a few more moments in the sun after those brutal Weidman losses and the embarrassment of the Nick Diaz PED scandal.

But that was then, and as always the middleweight division has more weirdness to offer. Let’s take a look at the two squidgy middleweight bouts scheduled to take place at UFC London.

THE FIGHTS

James Te-Huna (16-8) vs Steve Bosse (10-2)

Phil: Man, Jimmy Tuna’s record isn’t looking so great nowadays. He was one of those guys who got held up as a prospect who was just about to turn the corner, despite not being all that young or young in the sport at all. He was expected to get the fading Shogun and Marquardt out of there, and instead Shogun yanked out Te-Huna’s Matrix headjack, and Nate remembered that he could submission grapple. I always enjoyed his rugged power boxing and awful defensive grappling though. Great walk-outs, too. Still, though, you have to think he wrecks Steve Bosse, right? Right Connor? I mean… Connor?!

Connor: I don’t want to spoil my pick for those who haven’t read it or heard it elsewhere . . . but yeah. I’m not so sure. The expediency with which Nate Marquardt outgrappled Te-Huna didn’t concern me all that much. James has never been a fantastic grappler–more power than finesse–while Nate Marquardt has had an underrated top game for as long as I’ve known him. What concerned me was the fact that, in pursuing the same high-volume boxing attack as always, Te-Huna was dropped by Marquardt. And it wasn’t even the brutal Street Fighter-esque violence we’ve come to expect from Marquardt that did the trick. It was just a tap on the chin, a short knee in the clinch, and it sent Te-Huna sprawling on all fours, forced him to grapple with the superior grappler.

Your point about Te-Huna’s suspect prospect status is prescient. He’s fresh-faced and has the build of a young, powerful man. So it’s easy to forget that he’s been doing this MMA thing at a steady clip for almost 13 years. He’s 34 years old. And it’s important to remember that losses to Rua and Marquardt aren’t as forgivable as once they would have been. Te-Huna has the unenviable distinction of being the only win amidst a sea of losses on both men’s records. Take the Te-Huna fight away from Shogun, and you’re left with a four-fight losing streak. Take him out of Marquardt’s resume and it’s five straight defeats.

    James Te-Huna has had a rough go of it lately. Photo by Hannah Peters|Getty Images

Phil: The reason why I still favour Te Huna is largely why I still favoured Shogun to beat him back when they fought- regardless of his holes in the standup, he’s a decent power grappler on offense and actually wins more consistently in that way than he does in exchanges (his base skillset of power punches, hulk grappling and no takedown defense is actually similar to a toned down version of modern Rua). So while I can see him getting destroyed in a hilarious standup war, I have to think he just throws Bosse on the floor.

Connor: I see that too, and Te-Huna is absolutely the kind of guy I would normally pick. As if my Michael Bisping comments didn’t convey this anyway, I like consistent fighters. Guys who need the knockout or a miracle sub to win don’t usually inspire confidence in me. But Te-Huna’s dubious defense and crumbling chin are particularly unfortunate given his style. He’s aggressive, that James Te-Huna, and he throws a lot of punches coming forward. If you’re ready to counter him, he’ll be there to counter.

And say what you will about Steve Bosse, but he’s powerful and fast, and he has a knack for timing his right hand that belies his background–though if you’re looking to count on a non-combat athlete in a fight, you could do worse than a hockey enforcer. Bosse is big, too. He used to be a heavyweight, and the only man other than Thiago Santos to stop him was a heavyweight that barely survived Bosse’s mightiest punches before pounding him out in the third round. Can Te-Huna’s power grappling nullify a man with Bosse’s build and face-punching instincts? Can he get close enough to try without absorbing a fight-ending blow?

I dunno, man. I dunno.

Phil: Point taken on the shaky chin. I remember Te-Huna getting hurt by Ryan Jimmo pretty badly as well, although admittedly Jimmo’s ability to put out offense is… variable. On that note, this fight has to have some of the most lopsided offensive vs defensive chasms we’ve seen outside of Heavyweight. It should at least be incredibly fun.

Connor: But you have to admit, Phil . . . picking Bosse to win just feels like the middleweight thing to do. Te-Huna falling to a hockey enforcer in front of an antipodean crowd (it would be his third straight loss in Australia/New Zealand) would be equal parts funny and sad. If that ain’t middleweight, then what is?

Dan Kelly (10-1) vs Antonio Carlos Junior (5-1, 1 NC)

Phil: Oh god.

Connor: That about sums this one up.

Let me ask you: what does Joe Silva have against international fans? He’s placed so many local fighters in unwinnable matchups over the years that it’s practically a trope. This card isn’t as bad as the Poland card a few years back, but with Bec Rawlings, Brendan O’Reilly, Jake Matthews, Damien Brown, Hector Lombard, and Richard Walsh all in tough if not entirely unwinnable matchups, the sacrifice of Dan Kelly is far from an outlier. And I suppose there’s no point in avoiding the spoilers for this one. Dan Kelly is going to lose this fight.

Phil: Is Silva punishing him for that Patrick Walsh bout? I mean, that was one of the transcendentally crap fights of the modern era. It lives alongside the absolute cream of the crop: Pendred-Dodger; Erokhin-Gonzaga; Kimbo-Dada, and it holds its own among all of them. Although, in his defense, I posit that Dan Kelly would f— Kimbo or Dada up.

Connor: If middleweight fights are the B-movies of the UFC, then Kelly-Walsh was The Room. Truly a masterpiece of schlock.

    Daniel Kelly, four-time Olympian and unwitting sacrifice. Photo by Quinn Rooney|Getty Images

You’re right, though. Dan Kelly is not a bad fighter. In fact, he’s shockingly good given his circumstances. For a 38 year-old man far more used to gripfighting than punching, Kelly has a real knack for MMA. He’s in over his head here, though. Dan Kelly has discovered a latent talent, but it took him over 20 years longer than Antonio Carlos Junior.

Phil: “What would Jake Gyllenhall look like if he turned into one of the monsters from Attack on Titan” is not a question which I actually particularly wanted answered, but here we are. Antonio Carlos Junior. Shoeface. As a former LHW (and not a particularly small one) he’s an absolutely enormous middleweight, and I think there’s a massive portion of the division that he can simply feast on by being a giant, skilled grappler who is hard to tire out. Dan Kelly’s main hope is that Anthony Perosh somehow passed on some of his mystical Aussie Dadbod Oddscrusher powers when he retired.

Connor: I have to think that even the legendary Hippo would struggle to deal with Carlos’ speed, power, and grappling chops, especially given the improvements Shoeface has shown in the striking since his debut. I guess what I’m saying is, Antonio Carlos Junior is no Vinny Magalhaes. Not even close.

Phil: I still think Vinnie was a decent enough striker, it was more his absolutely horrific chin which let him down. But point taken. The thin margins for victory for Dan Kelly have shrunk over Carlos’ time in the UFC. He’s one of the best prospects at middleweight, and this is going to be a murder.

VERY MEANINGFUL PICKS

Connor:
Antonio Carlos Junior via ritual sacrifice
Steve Bosse via the darkly comedic whims of forces beyond our ken

Phil:
Shoeface. “…on that day, Australia received a grim reminder”
Jimmy Tuna by THE POWER OF MIXED MARTIAL ARTS or something

TODAY’S THEME

When discussing fights in this way, a connecting theme emerges. Think of these as our closing thoughts.

The throughline for UFC Brisbane’s middleweights is . . .

Connor: What’s the name of that post-event video series the UFC does, again? “The Thrill and the Agony” or something like that? Well I think the theme of this event, as far as middleweights are concerned, might be “The Hope and the Disappointment.” The UFC continues their proud tradition of pitting local fighters against opponents sure to beat them up. Every half-informed fight fan in Australia will show up to root for the hometown boys (and gal), only to hang their heads in disappointment after about . . . oh, at least half the fights, probably.

Phil: To paraphrase my countryman Nick Hornby, “the natural state of the sports fan is bitter disappointment.” Joe Silva seems to have taken that saying to heart, and wants to export that natural state all around the world. I’m not sure when this kind of sadism started. Maybe the Rumble-Gustafsson Sweden card, where the majority of the hometown fighters got trounced and Gustafsson got murdered in the main, to utter, dead silence. I think Joe got a taste for that special kind of misery which suspended itself in the air of the arena.

I just hope those Aussie fans know to avert their eyes when the Shoeface-Kelly fight comes up.

For more on UFC Brisbane, check out the latest episode of Heavy Hands, which also examines MMA training camps and challenges the traditional wisdom that “iron sharpens iron.”