Meeting MMA: An Outsider's Encounter With The World's Fastest Growing Sport

It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that Mixed Martial Arts—and its most prominent brand, the Ultimate Fighting Championship, or the UFC—has struggled to gain mainstream acceptance. At least among the more traditional sports fans and media, the fastest growing sport in the world still percolates beneath the surface. Or worse, it gets dismissed altogether.

You don't like Mixed Martial Arts? You don't respect it? I used to be in the same boat.

Depending on your levels of cynicism, it’s either a form of human cruelty, or a slightly more legitimized form of WWF wrestling, equal parts barbaric and cartoonish. And it's stereotypes like those that have kept the UFC relegated to the margins of the mainstream. So far, "serious" people have refused to embrace it, and as a result, idiot sports fans like me just dismiss it.

But a note to "serious" people everywhere: Mixed Martial Arts is a sport that, in so many different ways, demands to be taken seriously. Taken seriously by the fighters, by promoters, by advertisers, and most of all, by the fans—the Mixed Martial Arts obsessives that have made MMA and the UFC the fastest growing sport on the planet.

People see the UFC as an organization promoting these barbaric cage matches, bastardizing the sports of boxing and wrestling, and turning them into pure bloodsport. The athletes train hard, yes, but can they really compare to other pro athletes? Someone like Randy Couture may be tough, but so is Ray Lewis—can Randy Couture also run a 4.6 40-yard dash? These are the arguments that sports fans use when they're dismissing MMA as a perversion and a waste of time. Much ado about nothing.

It may be insanely popular, but so are the Black Eyed Peas. And look at all the fans, wearing those ridiculous Affliction shirts. We're supposed to take this seriously? What the hell is a tap out?

This is how people like me have ignored the rise of Mixed Martial Arts over the past decade. It's like there's this awesome party going on, and nobody can be bothered to show up and check it out.

And it's our loss. I went to a fight this weekend—UFC 109, which wasn't even supposed to be a spectacular card—and despite some serious skepticism, it took all of five minutes to be converted. The energy gets you first, then it's the fighting styles, then it's the fans, and finally, the fighters, themselves. It's all on par with any big football or basketball game, and yes, a boxing match. The UFC culture is insular, and I was an outsider, but again, all it took was five minutes.

But before we get too far into it, some backstory. I came into this story knowing absolutely nothing about mixed martial arts or the UFC. I'd heard the stereotypes mentioned above, and seen a few minutes of a fight broadcast on CBS, but otherwise, I was pretty much a clean slate. This past weekend was my education in all things MMA.

It began on the flight to Las Vegas. On the plane, I sat next to a self-proclaimed UFC addict. Before we could get there, he saw my Barack Obama t-shirt and sneered, "Ha, I saw you with that shirt. I was wonderin' if you'd end up sitting next me." And... Well, how do you respond to that?

This was exactly the sort of culture gap I'd feared. Not that I'm some huge Obama fan or anything, but among the people I hang out with, nobody would ever think twice about a Barack Obama t-shirt. And here was this guy with a shaved head, wearing a Georges St. Pierre (one of the greatest MMA fighters in the world) t-shirt, and the first thing he mentioned was my Obama shirt.

I offered an awkward laugh before he added, "Don't mean much to mean one way or the other, actually. Just thought it was funny." That was probably a lie, but it made me comfortable enough to continue the conversation. From there, we talked about fighters, training, and the sport, in general. He'd become obsessed with MMA a few years ago and recently started training, himself. If that sounds a little extreme, it should. Imagine boxing fans loving the sport so much that they start training at their local gym. It happens, but not a lot. Among MMA fans, though, it's more common.

It's why the UFC can realistically launch a "nationwide network of gyms" to train people, and it's a pretty emphatic example of the dedication that MMA fans have shown in recent years. Not only does the sport gain more fans every day, but they're fans that become deeply invested in the sport. It's not a casual hobby; people don't like it, they love it. It's pretty impressive. I love the NBA, but I will gladly concede that most basketball fans are only casually invested in the regular season, and that's being generous. With MMA and the UFC, it's different.

When I asked about MMA, in general, my new friend could only say, "There's just... Nothing better."

And conceptually, he might be right. We talked a little bit about the various fighting styles encompassed under the "Mixed Martial Arts" umbrella, and I did some research myself. From what I can tell, these are the most prominent styles employed by MMA fighters: Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, Greco Roman Wrestling, Boxing, Freestyle Wrestling, and Muay Thai. Nearly every big name fighter comes from a different discipline, and has to master the others on his way to the top. Sort of how certain boxers rely on defense and speed but others rely on brute force, except these differences are far more pronounced.

And when you think about it, that makes for some pretty fascinating matchups. Differentiating between the styles—knowing which armbar comes from Brazlian Jiu Jitsu, or which defensive move comes from Wrestling—is beyond my purview, but theoretically, it makes for a chess match between fighters that's impossibly intricate, and highly intellectual. This isn't just two guys trying kill each other with their bare hands—there's a lot more to it. And while I'm not fluent in the fighting styles, having seen one fight, I want to be. It'd make the fights that much cooler. That's at least a partial explanation for why fans become so immersed in this stuff.

Fans travel from all over the country to see UFC fights. It's an expensive proposition, but for them, it's completely worth it. At the fight, I sat in back of a lawyer in a blazer, next to a group of four teenagers, and two rows in front of two middle-aged women. What seems like a pretty culture full of adrenalin junkies wearing Tapout gear was surprisingly diverse. Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of stereotypical fans. But by the end of the fight, we were all adrenalin junkies, and not everyone was wearing Tapout gear and covered in tattoos. The experience brings together a lot of people you'd expect to see at a MMA fight, but just as many that you wouldn't.

And once you experience a fight for yourself, it's not hard to imagine why people from all walks of life would find themselves addicted to this crazily intense, primal sport, where two guys are put in a cage and told to beat the crap out of each other. Because first of all, it's not as primal as you think. And second, it's even more intense than it sounds. How could it NOT be insanely popular?

When I walked into the arena for the fight night, it was still pretty early. Around 5:30, but there had already been a few fights on the undercard. Still sort of uneasy about my surroundings, I found my seat and immediately freaked out. Some middle-aged woman was standing behind screaming "Robert!" over and over again. Like, "Goooo Robert!" and "Come on Robert!" and "Ahhh! Roberrrrt!"  The pay-per-view fights were still two hours away. Were MMA fans this obsessed? It was a little jarring.

Then I found out why she was yelling, and it was a extremely jarring. Her son, Robert Emerson, was fighting at the time. And good lord, that woman must have been tough. Watching one of your children play any sport can be tough, but come on. Watching your kid in the Octagon? All bets are off, there's no limit to how much punishment can be inflicted, it only stops when someone's life is in danger, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. It's like watching behind a glass partition while your dog fights a pitbull.

EXCEPT IT'S YOUR F—ING  SON.

Thankfully for everyone involved, Emerson wound up winning the fight. His mother was shockingly tough about it, showing her vulnerability only when her son got hit with a low blow. A few seconds after that, she yelled "Kick his ass Robert!" and then said to her friend that, "He better, after what that guy just did to him." But other than that, she had her game face on the whole time, screaming like crazy for her son, and never once spontaneously bursting into tears, something I almost did just watching her. 

It was a good reminder, too. These fighters are human, with real families and real bones that break. That seems obvious, but it's easy to fall prey to the idea that all of these fighters are sociopaths, weaned on steroids and fighting, and robbed of any of the qualities we'd associate with "normal" human beings. But from everything I saw, these guys aren't freaks. They look like freaks, but most of them seem impressively grounded in reality and just... Normal. We'll come back to this later, but for whatever reason, seeing Robert Emerson's mother was the first time it dawned on me that these fighters aren't necessarily muscle-bound aliens.

From there, perhaps since there were no other mothers in my vicinity, the momentum slowed a little bit, and I got to hunker down and study the fights themselves. The arena was only half-full, but for me, it was a perfect opportunity to pick up some insights as to how this sport works. First thing I noticed? The sound. In a half-full arena, you can hear just about every punch, every kick to the shins, and all sorts of other vicious blows that would make an average person piss themselves. And it just keeps happening. Over and over again, they go back and forth, battling, throwing one another on the ground, and just kicking the crap out one another. That sound though. That's what makes it real. You're there, yes this is happening, and yes, you just heard a grown man get punched in the stomach. Hard.

Again, there's strategy involved in all of this brutality. From what I could tell, a lot of it hinges on whether a fighter can successfully get his opponent to the ground. Like getting a boxer on the ropes. At that point, they can go for chokes and armbars and all sorts of other finishing moves that win fights and make fans go crazy. On the ground, I think, is where the strategy really hits overdrive. So many different ways to attack, and so many different counter-measures. Most of these intracies went over my head on Saturday night, but still. They exist, and it's what makes Mixed Martial Arts such a chess match.

A chess match, with chilling violence that will get your pulse racing and drain you of every last ounce of adrenalin after 20 minutes. So... Basically, the coolest chess match ever. That's Mixed Martial Arts. Watching the fights, my heart was in my throat after a half hour, and they just kept coming. One round after another, one fight after another. It's not difficult to see what attracts the fans. It's an experience that grips everyone. Hardcore fans and first-timers like me.

A sport like football is dramatic, sure, but a lot of the drama is derived from the context. They need to score here, or We need this third down stop! With UFC, there's no context necessary. You don't need to know any of the fighters, the styles, or the way it's scored. All of that heightens the experience immensely, but it's not essential to an understanding of why people go nuts over this stuff. It's impossible to not be physically stimulated by all of it.

As the fights continued, the "blackout" undercard gave way to fights that aired on Spike TV (and drew an impressive 1.7 million viewers) and the arena slowly filled. My heart continued thumping at an alarming rate, and there were more impressive fights. But then, when the pay-per-view event began, things really got crazy. During my research for this piece, I heard from a lot of people that MMA is best viewed on television, where you can really see everything that each fighter's doing. This is probably true. It's true in football, too, if you're actually trying to watch the game.

But rather than ignore this reality, it's testament to the UFC's production team that there were giant video screens placed throughout the arena, and every single punch, kick, and choke was captured perfectly for all the fans onsite. Coupled with the music and lighting in the arena, and again, that sound, it's hard to believe that anything can beat watching it in person, and easy to see why fans make regular pilgrimages to all these fights. The UFC makes it worth it.

As the card progressed, and the fights continued, it didn't stop being impressive and shocking and stimulating (the knockout from Matt Serra stands out as something that really made my head spin). But there was something missing. With any sport, the best moments are when you can sense that something truly memorable is happening. Something that'll stick with you for the rest of your life, and a moment you'll tell your friends about. At that point, you fell like you're just lucky to be watching. It's rare, but when it happens, it takes the fan experience to another level.

And while the night itself had been memorable, there was nothing in particular that stood out as something I'd tell my friends about. Not a criticism, really, but I wanted more. Then came the Chael Sonnen fight.

That's Chael Sonnen after the fight. All bruised and battered, and as he said, "Relieved that it's over." Of course, "The Chael Sonnen fight" was supposed to be "The Nate Marquardt fight." Sonnen was a 5-to-1 underdog, and Marquardt was primed for a shot at the title. That's not how it played out. Sonnen said afterward he came into the fight, "Knowing I was going to get beat up."

"I just had to make sure he got beat up worse," he said.

And that's actually exactly what happened. As you can see, Sonnen got beat up, but Marquardt got beat up a little bit worse. It was an all-out war. Even ignorant fans like me could sense that something special was happening. Sonnen attacked right from the start, showing no fear of the favorite, and getting him on the ground almost immediately. The fans, most of whom cheered for Marquardt throughout the fight, were in shock. But Sonnen just kept attacking In the second round, in particular, Sonnen landed a number of punches that made you assume Marquardt was about to get knocked out. And an exhausted Marquardt, to his credit, kept hanging on.

By the end of the second round, both fighters were exhausted and covered in each other's blood, and even though Sonnen was clearly winning, Marquardt's resolve left open the possibility of an upset in the third and final round. Anyone that endures the type of beating he did—and keeps fighting—can never be counted out.

And Marquardt almost won it. At one point in the third round, the tables turned, and Sonnen got caught in a chokehold that very nearly had him unconscious. Here's how our MMA blog, Bloody Elbow, described it: "Chael shoots in and is caught in a deep choke. It's close to finished, Sonnen is turning purple..." And really, on the big screen, you could see his face turning purple, and everyone assumed it was over. And then at the last second, Sonnen got out of it, and survived the rest of the round. Bleeding, and nearly collapsing from exhaustion, the biggest underdog of the night mustered a modest celebration and mumbled his way through the interview. 

It feels weird to describe a bloody, vicious fight as beautiful, but it sort of was. The determination of both fighters was just unbelievable, and neither one ever quit. Not Marquardt when he was being repeatedly bludgeoned in the second, and not Sonnen, when he turned purple and probably should have passed out. Somehow, both men kept killing themselves, and it showed. Strange as it sounds, there's something beautiful about that. It was a fight I'll never forget. Something to tell my friends about.

After the fight, Chael was refreshingly honest: "He knocked me out with a flying knee; he choked me to death in the third round. It was a miserable experience, and I'm glad it's over." And then, talking about his career as a fighter, he was refreshingly badass: "I don't want to be an also-ran. I want to be king of the mountain, otherwise I'll move on in life. I think I can beat any man." How awesome is that?

I met Chael the next day in the hotel lobby. He was taking pictures with fans. Sensing that these people greatly outranked me as far as fan seniority, I decided not to interrupt their photo sessions too long, and just shook his hand and said, "Great fight." He smiled and said, "Thanks a lot man." Nothing spectacular, but he made eye contact, was completely genuine, and, generally, a real human being about it.

Hearing Sonnen's candor in the press conference, and then meeting him, it got me wondering. This sport's already insanely popular, but having witnessed it firsthand, it's only a matter of time before MMA and the UFC enter a whole other stratosphere. So far, the sports traditionalists have been reluctant to embrace it, but that can only last so long. Like I said, it's a sport that, in person, appeals to everyone. And at some point, it'll be right there with all the other major sports that make the world stop for a particularly spectacular matchup.

So what happens to the fighters, themselves? What happens when the mothers of fighters are sitting in skyboxes with all the other relatives? What happens to Chael Sonnen? Part of the appeal, at least for now, is that these fighters are incredibly accessible to fans. The UFC mandates it, and indeed, it's an excellent strategy. Having hung out with UFC fans all weekend, it's pretty clear that they feel a connection to these fighters that doesn't exist elsewhere in sports.

And while a lot of UFC fans might sneer and that's because pro athletes are out of touch with reality, there's a reason for the disconnect. Superstars in football and basketball literally can't go anywhere without being mobbbed by hundreds of fans. They're NOT normal people. The sports they play are billon dollar businesses, and with that comes levels of fame that defy our imagination. That's just part of the game.

And there's no reason Mixed Martial Arts won't be that popular one day. It's just as great as the rest of them. But just as certain as the inevitable explosion of UFC onto the mainstream is the evolution that'll come with it. Floyd Mayweather made $10 million for his last fight. Randy Couture, one of the sport's biggest stars, made $250,000 for his fight on Saturday night. And remember: Mixed Martial Arts makes more money than boxing. So how long will that discrepancy exist? And how long will someone like Chael Sonnen be able to walk around in broad daylight taking pictures with fans, flanked by only his two trainers?

For now, though, we'll leave that alone. That's a whole other article in the future. And after experiencing the sport firsthand and loving every second of it, I hope I'm the one to write it.

To dig deeper into MMA and the UFC, do what I did. Check out the comprehensive coverage on MMA blogs, and the best resources on the internet for Mixed Martial Arts: Bloody Elbow, MMA Mania, MMA For Real, Gals Guide to MMA, and Watch Kalib Run.