Ultimate Fighter 10 Episode 1: Size Does Matter

Written by Ryan AnthonycloseAuthor: Ryan Anthony Name: Ryan Anthony
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About: 25 year old Tennessee resident and small government conservative. I first discovered my love of writing while working for a high school newspaper; that was eight years ago. Now I'm studying for an Associate's Degree in journalism. My favorite topics to cover for Parcbench include contact sports and television.See Authors Posts (34) on September 21, 2009

Although I’m no Bruce Buffer, I have to announce that it’s time!

That is, it’s time for me to deliver my promised synopsis of the newest season of The Ultimate Fighter, which aired on Spike after Season 5 winner Nate Diaz’s Fight Night lightweight beatdown.

The main attraction – Kimbo Slice – was billed by UFC President Dana White as “the biggest name ever in streetfighting.” So, it’s no heavy expenditure of brain power to conclude the country’s been impatient to see him fight outside of last year’s R-rated action DVD “Blood And Bone,” a flick also starring Eamonn Walker (Kareem Said of the prison drama Oz.)

A fighter sure to draw some of the season’s focus from the rocky relationship between both team captains, Kevin Ferguson (Kimbo’s real name) may not be a Tank Abbott, but I’ll have to posit the notion that he shares – on his face – certain characteristics with Obama.

That is, both are overexposed fads with legions of cheering drones behind them, and both will destroy all of America if not properly restrained. Fortunately, Mr. Ferguson’s burning swath of doom has been confined to Youtube.

The first big question I want to contribute my two cents to, is . . . The Ultimate Fighter house has seen everything from impromptu renovation to urine-soaked rugs; according to the opening minutes in which Rampage threatened to kick the brown stuff out of Rashad, will it now see blood?

Let me ask my Magic 8-Ball for a second here “Is the shared enmity between coaches going to be worse for this season than it was between BJ Penn and Jens Pulver?”

Okay . . . I’ve given it a good shake . . . what is this?

“SIGNS POINT TO ‘F**K YEAH’”

Uh-oh. Break out the bulk-size bottle of aspirin.

And then, Kimbo. Quinton, professing his unmoving (in more ways than one) place in the Kimbo fandom, calls dibs on the inverse Rocky Balboa immediately: patience never was his strong suit.

Too bad the one-man Ferguson cheering section had to ask ‘bo if he had spelled his name correctly.

See, Trekkies at sci-fi conventions everywhere know how to spell “Worf,” but I know that might not be the best analogy. Rampage – who would later set a record for usage of the word “titties” in reference to 10-0 Texan Schoonover – at least gets out of his house.

With manboobs and Roy “Big Country” Nelson’s gut both on the series chopping block, 16 rather grungy fighters congregated before White for the obligatory coin flip, which Rashad won. To that effect, he inducted teammates James McSweeney and Brendan Schaub into the Evans cadre, followed by Jon Madsen, Matt Mitrione, Darrill, Mike Wessel and Nelson. Rampage went for the rest — including Kimbo Slice, Scott Junk, and the two Wesses: Mississippi native Shivers, as well as self-styled bad boy “the Project” Sims.

Jones eats his words, Rashad commiserates on the circle of life in the Ultimate Fighter household, Rampage acts like a schoolgirl when selecting the first fight card. Sugar approved of the choice made and promptly spun it like Rick Sanchez bitching about the Tea Parties.

Episode main event: Team Rashad’s rather unsportsmanlike Jon Madsen vs. 6-1 Abe Wagner.

Jon instantly followed advice given him, tapped into previous expertise gained from the camaraderie of former champ Matt Hughes, and dropped the cornhusker (esteemed by Wes “The Project” Sims to be toughest computer geek alive) on his back.

Needless to say, after a whole lot of punches, everyone at home saw the ensuing bloodbath — probably with the same stupefied expression of horror as was plastered on my face. Three and a half minutes gone, a maroon-colored pool was literally all over a corner of the Octagon mat.

Can we all count it as a miracle that the finance director got through the first round, let alone the second, with his right brow open to the bone? It didn’t take a neurosurgeon to crunch the numbers and calculate the impossibility of Abe’s ticking the fight off in the “W” column. Round two proceeded in like manner as round one, Abe practically comatose on the mat within 20 seconds.

At least the big Dave and Buster’s logo between the eight sides feels better. It was getting some good camera time! Wasn’t it?

Second round over, after a flurry of widely – perhaps too widely – arcing punches. Unanimous decision for Madsen. 20-16, 20-17, 20-17.

I’m not surprised. Sure experience and intelligence are major assets to those who step into the Octagon – as Charles McCarthy would no doubt have attested – but I didn’t expect someone who puts more effort into throwing up 20 minutes before a fight, to actually win it.

Tune in next week to see Rampage show yet another inanimate object who’s boss!