Ultimate Fighter 10 Episode 4: Anaconda

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 October 9, 2009

The other night it was with an inquisitive nature that I proceeded to view Kimbo’s non-ground-game and subsequent smackdown all over again; a nigh-dangerous moment between Rampage and Big Country; yet another conversation between the Bearded One and Abe – who, if he were on the set of Survivor, would have been home before Nelson’s victory.

And that was just in the first seven minutes: I was then treated to a spectacle as Jones, fresh from the bathroom, would have me imagining it was time for him to indulge in a serving of crow pie. I’m not so sure what he did, but from my seat in front of the TV I could sum it up thusly: imitating the Old West practice of turning from his target, moving ten paces, and loosing a projectile.

No, really. I’m not sure. Did he just barf on the floor?

Time to go to commercial, folks – now would be an opportune time to clean.

Or not. Kimbo puts a towel on the back of Jones’ neck, and Brendan . . . buddy, let’s just say you took the words right out of my mouth. Rude awakening indeed. I mean, I’m not an icon of fitness myself, but I do work out; I’ve had some (albeit short) personal experience with martial arts training in my life, and I once overworked myself to the point of a nightly hospital stay. Common sense (and Will Shakespeare) dictates: Too much of a good thing, is not. Go easy or go home.

But whatever. Team Rashad training com’th, Matt and Justin treat it like Wii Fit soccer, and Sugar gives his appraisal of various team members along with a form of Burkean conservatism suited to the eight-sided ring. Justin switches to punching bags, Wessel boxes again.

Time for matchups to be doled out. Schaub learns he’ll be fighting Demico, jokes that the beating will be akin to a highlight reel; Justin expresses understandable misgivings about being set up to fight his friend Scott; and Matt learns he’ll be set up to fight Marcus.

Guess who else ends up knowing, in short order, what is to do as a pair of panties during Happy Hour and go down . . .

Team Rampage.

Well, it’s not as though contestants haven’t been able to shut up before. Flash back time during commercial.

Post-profit timeout. Crunchy peanut butter sandwich being fixed by Justin, who – along with Madsen – has his own opinions about the strategic value of Mitrione’s running his mouth. It turns out to be Judgment Day as Matt later explains himself to Rashad, who calls into question his intelligence and correctly states this blunder was “like going to war and then telling the opposition where you’re going to attack him.” Really?

Hey! That sounds a lot like the behavior anti-war groups wanted former President Bush to enable, whether it came down to interrogation techniques or domestic maneuvering!

Does it really come as any surprise, that it wasn’t a smart move?

(I like Rashad. He’s one of the only fighters, or coaches, I can remember to take bad news like that and just laugh it off.)

Matt apologizes for brain fart, Sugar wonders at damage control, and then lets us (or at least me) have a good laugh: Brain fart guy is afraid to fight a big baby – one who can’t even work out without crapping his heart out his chest.

Again, far be it from me to act like I’m personally experienced with MMA. Common sense is enough for a realization that your body is going to light up like a five-alarm fire if you’re pushing yourself too hard. Why be afraid – if that’s even so – of fighting a man not in top condition? Such a tussle can be classified as NFL, the call sign of Jones’ former profession and later an acronym for “Not For Long,” which in my opinion also happens to accurately reflect Michael Vick’s chances of going anywhere with a reality show.

Fast forward a bit. Those sunglasses make you look like a bug, Sugar.

Pep talk given Schaub, Lawlor moment forecast as Team Rashad eats shrimp for dinner and leaves Matt out of it. I’d watch the honey mustard sauce from that point forward if I were you, Jon, otherwise you’ll be crying for real.

Okay, so . . . Washingtonian and Colorado native on fight day, Josh Rosenthal officiating.

First (and only) round: Rogers tries to take Schaub down early in the fight, but fails and looks like a moron in the process. Trying again, he succeeds to whale on Brendan from above, and has him grabbing on the cage in short order. Strategic blunder on the part of Rashad’s “Mini-Me” from 2:11 forward enabled the former CU fullback to grab control of the fight and secure victory via titular anaconda choke, shortly thereafter.

Nice and quick . . . just the way we like them.

Let’s see what happens next week.