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With Lyoto "The Dragon" Machida and Mauricio "Shogun" Rua headlining UFC 113, the card had uber appeal to hardcore fans.

Sherdog radio-star Jordan Breen called it his most anticipated rematch in history. I, for one, had blue balls for three weeks prior. Nerdlingers (and normal, respectable people, for that matter) on blogs and forums earnestly anticipated the clash, with themes like "I don't care who wins", "I like both fighters," "Can't wait for five more rounds!", "Lyoto drinks his own pee?!" and "War Shogun".

Our anticipation was totally justified: two of the world's best fighters near the peak of their careers having already gone five technical, close rounds, ending in controversy. The rematch was and always would have been epic.

Most pundits picked the urinating Karateka, claiming ambiguously that he would somehow adapt to Rua's traditional Muay-Thai style, without knowing or positing how. Oddly, most online writers felt Rua, the fighter who most think won the first fight with a better gameplan, was going to be out-gameplanned by a fighter (Machida) who has never had to change his gameplan. Needless to say, Shogun made me much richer (and cured my blue-balls).

Unfortunately, neither spoke English well. Lyoto had been improving earnestly, as UFC champions should (must?),  but both largely still spoke through their interpreters. As such, the two classy fighters weren't ideal for dramatic arcs to hype pre-fight to casual fans (the ever-targeted demographic).

Refreshingly, the UFC didn't over-promote street-fighter Kimbo Slice's main card fight, at least not shamelessly, instead shifting the onus  to the two loudmouths uncoincidentally featuring as the co-main event, Semtex and Kos.

"Face down. Ass Up."

The two were a welterweight pairing made in heaven: one was a knob, the other a twat.

And Semtex appeared to penetrate Koscheck's frazzly bush in weeks leading up to May 8. UFC: Countdown—the promotion's kitschy, hour-long version of HBO's epic 24/7 series—featured a half-hour of Semtex soundbytes levied at the ever-heel AKA product.

Yeah, some of them were your vague staples, but others had some zip: "Koscheck is coming in to win, I’m coming in to fuck him up really bad."

Oh yeah? Yeah. ""I’ll take 1,000 Josh Koscheck right hands and I’ll guarantee you when I land one of my mine, there will only be one of us standing."

He continued prophetically, "Josh Koscheck has never been hit by me," then ironically, "You can beat me up all night and I land one punch. You’ve got to avoid that one punch for 15 minutes,"

But this wasn't just a fighter hyping his fight. Daley believed the shit he said; he had to. Far be it from someone about to engage in serious hand-to-hand combat to be lacking self-belief, besides, talking shit is his bread-and-butter, and that of his employer, too.

Unfortunately, for both casual or hardcore fans, the matchmaking, though nice for lame sexual puns and pre-fight buzz, wasn't conducive to intrigue once the bell rang.

The American took down Daley, who showed at least a semblance of takedown defense, almost at will, doing zero damage and attempting few submissions en route to an inevitable decision victory.

Imagine you were Daley. Your only hope was to catch him with a left-hook, because, despite being a striker, and a "knock-out" artist, all your other punches are shit. Not that you weren't gonna talk mess anyway, but your brass and bald boss needed you to, compensating for Machida and Shogun's inability—and disinclination—to engage in insincere word wars. You spent the better part of three months saying with absolute certainty that you're gonna knock Koscheck--worse, a huge baggadouche himself--clean out, "face down, ass up", in the biggest fight of your career.

Instead, you get humped for three rounds, never connecting with any meaningful punches. (Hey, it's mixed-martial arts, brah.)

Talking shit is fulfilling when you win. But it's depressing when you lose. And Daley got owned. Adrenaline dumping, as the watching world seemingly laughed at him for being so confident but being so wrong, he behaved unprofessionally and immaturely, sucker-punching the wrestler after the fight with that hyped left-hook. Koshceck blocked it and laughed, before faking another eye poke.

Emotions and ego on the pulpit

Daley's cheap-shot on Koscheck was disappointing to watch, but it wasn't awe-inspiring like Strikeforce's brawl last month, which really made you question "WTF?", only to be inundated by so many spurious, emotional reactions written online that the only recourse was to conclude "...meh".

Dana White took the Strikeforce melee as an opportunity to browbeat the upstart promotion, with uncharacteristic aggression and frankness, stating: "Of course, everyone thinks I’m anti-competition, but I’m not. But everyone knows that they didn’t belong on CBS... Shame on CBS for this."

Having his own post-fight tomfoolery just weeks later, White was cornered to overreact to Semtex's frustrated late punch. He addressed the nodding post-fight presser journalists,"It was probably one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen."

Daley didn't help his cause, though, according to White, who told MMAFighting.com's Ariel Hawani: "When I asked him 'Do you want to continue fighting in the UFC?' He shrugged his shoulders. Well, there you go, now you won't." White further decreed "You don’t ever hit a guy blatantly after the bell like that whether you’re frustrated or not," and it was so.

A pissed-off White still had to moralize from the Strikeforce farce, adding appropriately "We all make mistakes. But there's no place in this sport or this business for stuff like that. "

Not really fair for Daley, or significant

And so Daley's chances of getting another chance were stacked against, and it's a shame because the Englishman was very much his former employer's horse in months prior to the card in Montreal.

He is a young, popular (for better or worse) fighter and top-20 welterweight, and deserves some compassion for pressuring himself with so much hype co-main-eventing the pay-per-view. Koscheck winded his ass up big time, and Daley naively threw a regrettable punch that didn't even connect.

Jake Rossen at Sherdog.com said it like this: "Permanent banishment is a little outsized for the crime, and so is the haste of making these judgments with emotions running high right after the infraction."

Ideally this whole situation is redressed down the road between the contrite Daley and a cooler-headed Dana White. By then some fans and online opinion-makers who pretend to care deeply and arbitrarily about the principle of a late punch would have found something else to distract them.

Maybe our thoughts will be provoked by a fight itself, instead of following the bullshit drama that goes on after the bell.

Speaking of which, there's a great looking Strikeforce card this Saturday...

Wanderers hosted Man United at the Reebok Saturday evening. The first half was argy-bargy as both teams wrestled for control. Each side had chances during the often end-to-end passages of play. The breakthrough was fortunate for United and abysmal for Bolton when Samual carelessly own-goaled right before the interval.

Bolton continued playing well in the second half; United continued to play better. Berbatov tapped home after 60 total following an audacious left-footed strike by Fletcher. Nani reamed his opposite full-back after 78 played with skill to setup another tap-in for Berbatov 3-0. Nani did the same thing five minutes later for Gibson to finish, 4-0.

Manchester United

van der Sar (8 ) It’s not a goalie’s fault when he doesn’t have that much to do. He is, though,  accountable for what is tasked of him.  The Dutchman made a world-class save today, his second of the season for those counting. His distribution was fine, and he had several important decisions to make as Bolton piled their meatshields forward, despite Wanderers only shooting on target five times. Clean sheet.

Neville (7 ) Some United fans think Neville has little left, but against sides like Bolton he’s very serviceable. Sure, he’s ploddingly slow; but he’s wily: That’s why everyone hates him. Still a quality footballer, if not defender.

Evans (6.5 ) Unable to redeem his form from last season, the Northern Irishman at least put a decent game under his belt today. Bolton are a challenging team for opposing backlines. They’re huge, and a few of them can even play. Therefore, Evans had to be big today, and he was big enough.

Vidic (9 ) Is there a better style matchup for Vidic than Kevin Davies? The Serbian monster was at home in the trenches today. He’ll be gutted he didn’t finish the match with a bloody nose. The happiest player on the pitch not to smile, Vida enjoyed himself thoroughly today, as all observing neutrals should have. Dominant. Brilliant.

[Read the rest of my article at EPL Talk]

I've been doing well betting on MMA lately so I wanted to drop my picks in case anyone also wants to make money with me. I'm not a handicapper or anything, just a dude with a pretty high IQ--objectively.

These cover all the MMA odds currently released (which consist of only UFC cards)

MMA Futures:

Gomi +230, Tibau -250 (March 31st:UFC Fight Night )

Gomi is a bad style match-up for Florian. Gomi started as a wrestler and turned into a bad-ass striker. Florian will want to submit Gomi whose wrestling is undervalued and fists are uberly more powerful. Kenny is gong to get fucked up on the feet. Perhaps Kenny wins, but not two out of three times. Good value at +200 and higher for Gomi, and I expect the line to move in the Japanese' favor further due, in part, to the lack of name recognition he has to casuals.

Tibau will outweigh the aged Cael Uno by 30 pounds on fight night and is a complete lock--that line opened at -115. I got in big at -205. If NC doesn't let Tibau fight, due to whatever weight shenanigans, who cares: you get your money back. Until then, pile it on Tibau. Takedown after takedown until the UD victory.

Gracie +350, Maia +400 (April 10:UFC 112)

Renzo Gracie has value above +350. Hughes is old and complacent and it means more to Renzo who has been training hard with elite guys. Hughes probably wins six or seven out of 10 times, so I see Renzo as a live dog.

Damien Maia wins against Anderson Silva (who is now 34) as soon as it hits the ground--if it hits the ground. Maia won't get one-punch KTFO'd, but will definitely get beat up trying to clinch with Anderson. Good value on Maia though. This is a big line.  Anderson will lose sooner than later, and Maia has the best chance to finish him. If not, just bet the farm on Sonnen for Silva's next fight.

Daley +230, Rua +160 (May 8:UFC 113)

Paul Daley will KO Koscheck who, like Mir, overrates his own standup. Koscheck's arrogance will be his demise. Daley is bigger. Of course the Brit will get managed on the ground, but I don't see Kosheck's ground-and-pound as overly devastating and the stronger Semtex should be able to avoid damage. Daley has a huge advantage on the feet. He opened at +260 and now it's +210. Dunno what I expect the line to do.  

Next, Shogun Rua should be a pick'em against Machida, but he's +160. Some value there, not great, it's sort of a toss-up, I actually favor Shogun mentally, at least.  (War Rua)

Jackson -150 (May 29: UFC 114)

Lastly, come fight night, I expect Rampage Jackson to be at least 2:1 favorite over Rashad Evans. Line opened at -150. Evans has no chin and overrated boxing and wrestling. Rampage will put him on rollerskates en route to the TKO stoppage. Very easy money here.

Save some money on your sportsbook for when the Strikeforce odds come out. I like Shields as a big-dog against Henderson and Mousasi will completely own King Mo. Styles make fights... gl.

[My writer's profile on Bleacher Report where I am a featured columnist on Man United]

Shame on all who derided David Beckham after his naive, but genuine, iconoclastic display at Old Trafford last week.

Then Beckham donned a green-and-gold scarf, the symbol for the populist movement against the club's over-levereged, self-indulgent American owners. Where's the malice?

Not within his intentions or action. He shouldn't have to inject himself politically into their movement to justify his support of it.

Surely, nor should I have to run for President to prove my support for radicalizing the wasteful way American government, unions, and corporations intertwine.

Given no evidence, writers must make arbitrary distinctions in editorials to create a dramatic narrative. Instead of seeing and reporting the obviously emotional decision, English writers continued an onslaught of guilt and lampooning that, for some, continues ceaselessly since his sending off in the 1998 World Cup.

One cynic even questioned Beckham's ostensible, pining love for his father-figure Alex Ferguson and Man United, suggesting—for nothing—Beckham in fact betrayed every club he left, fueled by greed and selfishness—the same motivators behind his green-and-gold tribute.

Hindsight bias is crippling when it is founded upon a general, arbitrary cynicism that manifests itself through, basically, practice and muscle memory, to continually offer nothing but baseless negativity.

Such an approach might be more right than wrong, half the time, but journalists—especially editorialists—should strive for better than 50% accuracy. In fact, they shouldn't have to, because writing opinion for any media outlet—even a fading newspaper—should imply a sincerity and depth of vision and nuance.

It's lazy simply to join upon an anti-Beckham bandwagon, but lazier still when other arguments are equally, if not more, compelling.

It's accepted as self-evident that Beckham is greedy and superficial, regardless of whether you personally think he's a plonker. But even these presumably obvious traits are borne from a lack of conscious and lingering, mass-effect bitterness from his 1998 dismissal.

Through clearer windows, the career of this simple footballer became far too complex for him to control. His good looks and ability cursed him to a life he would never be able to master.

When Beckham was sent off against Argentina at the World Cup, there were—literally—burning effigies outside pubs in England. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's where the sarcastic saying comes from, to "light the effigies" at someone's slightest transgression.

Surely Becks' error then was not slight, but it was wholly overreacted, and any amount of hindsight bias—or bias itself—cannot mask that, now twelve years past. Oddly, Wayne Rooney was pivitally sent off in 2006 in the knockout stages, and he's been praised ever since.

When Beckham left United, he did so at Ferguson's behest, not through Beckham's greed; at least not for money. You wouldn't blame the Englishman to want to play with Zidane for his final few seasons.

Beckham's venture into America, surely, was neither founded in his greed; perhaps that of others. If you want to find money-mongering, depraved characters, look past Beckham at AEG, who own his rights, the Galaxy's stadium, and entities in Manchester.

And sure, marrying Posh probably didn't help; who do you think wears the pants?

Yes, Beckham has been an unwitting observer to his starcruise across the skies. He's been made rich by it, sure; but he was already rich.

Who wasn't then? The people around him who are now.

And now, here we are. Just days removed from that historical image of Beckham once again asking Old Trafford for forgiveness and love, there is another image:

Achilles tendon torn, with hopes of finally alleviating all his own guilt from 1998 shattered, Beckham was carried off the pitch in Italy on Sunday, forlorn and detached, and will now miss the World Cup.

The acquiescent figure, who carried not only Man United, but the English Premier League into the forefront of global sporting consciousness, loses his final chance to win the hearts of even those bottom-dwelling English cynics who—ironically—are the ones baselessly and greedily exploiting their vocation.

So now, here Beckham lies. Completely crestfallen, the man everyone loves to kick is prostrate and exposed: who dares to snivel now? What snarky cynic will speak and say soccer's forced hood ornament didn't deserve another chance at contrition?

Beckham alone is very much a simpleton, and people with simple minds usually have big hearts.

It's time to give Beckham credit for his.

And it's time for those lacking to find another carcass upon which to pen its feast.