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When I watch MMA, it’s in the company of a fairly even amount of hardcore and casual fans.  When sitting in Buffalo Wild Wings 3 hours before fight time, I often ask my friends, "Who are you rooting for in the _________ fight?"  Frequently I get a response I don’t understand.

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"We can't watch the pay-per-view, at least not live. I've got this thing. We'll record it and watch it next week."

You are unable to see the pay-per-view on the night of its airing but decide to drop the $45 and record it. Did you then avoid all MMA sites for a period of time? How about a week?

So a week rolls by, you've successfully hidden from the internet and it's finally time to watch the PPV.

Does it feel the same watching it a week later?

At the beginning of each ring entrance and each first round, there is an intensity in the fighter’s eyes shared by the fan. A feeling inspired by the sheer unpredictable nature of what is about to happen. The fighter is going to war. Euphoric relief or slow recovery could follow the next moments. The fighter goes in, and the fan too.

This question mark in a fight’s proceedings is the very criticism members of the professional wrestling community have made of MMA. The fight may explode or plod along; it may be evenly-matched or a beatdown.

When you truly want a fighter to win, you carry fear into the match and ride the waves of win or defeat with him. Perhaps the same cannot be said for a team sport where so many people on a field or court create so many variables. If one player is having an off-night, others can cover for him.

Mano-et-mano must be personal. The action in other sports stops after a play, in between possessions, or perhaps when someone is injured or pretending to be. The viewer sees a playfulness in participants: they might slap a team member’s hand or look at the referee incredulously. No such playfulness exists in MMA until the fight is over.

In MMA, the action does not stop unless eyes, testicles, or open skulls are involved.When the action does end, usually the fight is over. The question mark becomes an answer, the pundit predictions become foregone conclusions or huge upsets, and fans rejoice or hurt.

Have you ever roared in at the top of your lungs in a sports bar and slapped the back of a stranger because you just watched Anderson Silva choke out Chael Sonnen moments before losing it all? We have.

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Watching Jones vs. Vera, I started thinking about storylines and fighting.  The storyline for last night's main event was the young, explosive, up-and-comer against the salty could've been who was still trying to prove his potential---the guy on the upswing against the guy on the downswing.  The tested against the untested. 

The story got more colorful at the weigh-ins when the typically stoic and respectful Jones got in Vera's face.  Before I even watched the video, it was interesting to note that websites were beginning to add to the story arc:  Has the young unflappable Jones finally cracked under the pressure?  Will he fight angry and thus foolish?  Has Vera gotten in his head?

I know I am guilty of sometimes creating a good guy and a bad guy in a fight.  In the past, I have had a very hard time watching a fight and just hoping both men/women succeed and the fight as a whole is action-packed.  I have to create a polarity.  It's more fun that way.

Is that not some desire to see ourselves win?  When the fighter we want to win does, do we not feel a surge of success?  And even more specifically, if we've created a big storyline out of the fight do we not eat up whatever conclusion we've created?

In Griffin vs. Jackson, it was the feeling of the underdog shutting everyone up.  In Franca vs. Uno, it was the rampaging comeback of a fighter who had been dominated in the previous round.  In Tanner vs. Terrell, it was the ultra flashy and well-rounded kid cracking under the pressure of the eccentric warrior pilgrim veteran.  In Pulver vs. Swanson, it was temporary redemption.

Jon Jones is a man.  Brandon Vera is a man.  They both wanted to succeed, not get beat down in front of a lot of people, and get paid more.  They did not want to lose.  Even with my own projection of a storyline, it seems to end when the stare-down ends.  Now it's only the fight.  Now it's only competition.  If I'm Jon Jones, I'm not hype or future success, I'm a guy who wants to win.  If I'm Vera, I'm not washed up, or a could've been.  I'm a guy who wants to win.

Must we create storylines to enjoy fights, or is it better to drop them?  Is a fan's projection of themselves onto their fighter or team not what makes every sport a dramatic and engaging pastime of so many?  What do you think?   

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For me, one of the most annoying situations in a fight is when Fighter A continually takes down his opponent, and Fighter B appears surprised the other guy is implementing that strategy.  It is the helplessness.  I absolutely love the ground game and trained in Jiu Jitsu  for years, so it is not a lack of understanding that element of fighting.  Rather, I begin questioning the game plan and strategy of Fighter B and his team. 

Too many times I see a fighter going up against a guy who he must know (or at least suspect) will try to take him down.  This fighter, generally attempting to outstrike his opponent, will have a high striking stance, headhunt, and go for hail mary-esque blows to the head that generally result in him going for a ride. 

I have often wondered what would happen if he were to avoid the moves that would increase his chance of going to the ground (i.e. headkicks, flying knees, certain punches, etc.) and instead, fight in a low stance and throw punches to the body.  Would that not help negate the wrestler's attempts to get under his hips to take him down?  I am trying to think of a situation where the anti-takedown fighter used this strategy and still got taken down.

I am not suggesting that body shots are the cure-all for takedowns, especially when the wrestling pedigree is superior.  Some guys are so good that it doesn't seem to matter what the other guy's strategy is, they can get them down when they want to.  I am only asking the question:  Do you think that would help?  What else do you think would help? 

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How often do betting lines and pre-fight predictions sway your view of how a fight will go down?  If certain folks think that Joseph Benavidez will have a hard time getting inside a Torres jab, do you begin to share that view?  I was listening to the Dominic Cruz post fight interview, and found it fascinating when he talked about how being an underdog might just be someone's assumption about you.

When a fight is first announced, I generally (without even thinking about it) play a mental video of it in my head.  I think I'm guilty of allowing pundits/betting lines to make the video for me. 

For example, despite being a huge Griffin fan, the mental video for Forrest vs. Shogun consisted of Mauricio kicking his head into the front row with a spectacular flying dragon crescent kick in 18 seconds.  I had bought into so much of the hype, previous highlights, and pundit opinions that I completely believed that it was almost impossible for Forrest to even give him a close fight.  That night, I lost my voice cheering.

Is that not what makes all of this so fun?  In every second of a fight, pundits, all of us at home, and the fighters themselves really have no idea what will happen.  We can look at past successes or dominations, but we can't know.

Maybe that's what makes big upsets so thrilling.  When we are so convinced that something will happen, when it doesn't, we love the unpredictability.  After having bought so much into our own ideas, is it not wonderful when they are shattered (literally) by a right hand? 

What do you think?

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