Not too terribly long ago MMA (mixed martial arts if you just woke from a five year coma inside Roseanne’s asshole) was not a sensation. It was relatively not heard of (Chuck Who?). Well, if memory recalls correctly, UFC came along and made a reality show called the Ultimate Fighter and then some free fights were broadcasted. Wrestling became obsolete which sucks because the back stories and drama were gripping. OH MY GOD the Undertaker just showed up and back from the dead! Those bells mean you are about to be destroyed, like, even your soul is getting it’s ass kicked.
Back to the subject, all of a sudden, these MMA guys were idols. Subsequently, a “cauliflower ear” was a status symbol bigger than chains on rappers (watch out for the medallion , my diamonds are reckless, it feels like midget is hanging from my necklace).
I’m not knocking MMA, because I like to see a busted face, broken nose, and liver shot knock out as much as the next person. It combines so many different fighters with unique styles. You know like a Greco Roman Wrestler and a Vulcan trained in hand to hand combat. I get the hype, it’s entertainment. I have fun watching too.
What I cannot stand is the effect this has had on your every day average guy who lives a life of glory vicariously through the TV. I am quite sure the REAL athletes often begin their career at the age of 28, overweight, and no previous knowledge of a legitimate fighting style. I am sure they did not train for years and were very disciplined in their study of whatever they are proficient in. I have no doubt they put on an Affliction shirt and immediately kicked ass better (pair that with a Tapout hat…yeah muthafucka I will reign my vengeance upon thee!!!)
So these portly 30ish guys walk around with a false sense of elevated testosterone because they take Rex-kwan-do three days a week. I mean tearing your ACL while trying to take your buddy down into a rear naked cock hold does not mean, in any way, you should stop trying. You should not find a hobby, or take care of some personal tasks (lawn mowing or cleaning pee sprinkles off the toilet). Oh no, screaming at the over priced pay-per-view is far more important. Roll around in the living room with other men while watching other men on TV do the same only really fighting much, much better, is way more awesome. You are so not a borderline fag turd.
It wouldn’t be so bad if these men would just watch and enjoy the fight. They should not be so emotionally invested in the fighters. It’s a poster away from being a teenage girl’s obsession with Justin Beber. Their favorite fighter loses, they feel the disappointment in their bone’s marrow. Are you kidding me? You don’t know that guy. You did not train him. You have no attachment to him other than you know he does a sweet front kick or throws some devastating right hooks. Why are you about to cry? It’s not the smoke in the bar, you are a big pussy.
If you want to pretend to be a fighter, at least have the body of one. Having a fit and muscular body is far more convincing than a soft, doughy one. Tone down your excitement level from poop my pants to boner. Stop trying to fight and just watch it, more than likely you are not holding more than a GAP belt. To keep it real, you probably haven’t even been in a fight. You may have had your buddies hold you back because you almost “kicked that dudes ass.” Yeah, and Mel Gibson is almost going to celebrate Hanukkah.
You should not attempt to simulate television. I will not take this moment to vomit grandiose notions of the possibility that you are unique and can be special in your own way. You might be a looser, and then I would be a liar. You should just not try to be a MMA fighter while you lack the skills and commitment to be one. For real, go aspirate to not fall asleep on the couch with your hairy ass crack showing.