I woke up this morning feeling like I had been hit with a sledgehammer. I had been watching UFC 68 from about three rows from the floor at the Nationwide Arena. After the event was over we vainly waited for an hour and a half in 23-degree weather for a cab to appear. They did, but were quickly flagged down by other people waiting for the same. Other fans that were waiting outside in the snow took even the ones we called in. If it hadn't been for Vanessa and Eric of Adrenaline Fight Gear I would probably still be outside of the Nationwide Arena with my wife waiting for a cab. That wasn't the sledgehammer, though. Nope, that feeling came from something else, something magic.
I can still feel it. I can still see it. I swear that there was some unseen force in the air Saturday evening. Jason Lambert KO'd the favored Babalu, Matt Hughes and Rich Franklin won their comeback fights, and Dana White was all smiles as he weaved in and out of the crowd, shaking hands and taking pictures as he did so. This night was special and the fans were electric, ready for something extraordinary to happen, and it did.
It was already near midnight when the lights went down over the Octagon. My wife and I were already standing, as was everybody else. There was a feeling of wonder and nostalgia that hovered just above our heads.
I had chosen Tim Sylvia to win as much as I dislike him as a fighter. I think that he is a bully, personally. He uses his size and not much else to defeat his opponents. He was wearing the belt so he got my respect as a fighter. That doesn't mean I have to like the guy, though. Right?
Randy had no chance in my opinion. Well, I will be honest and say that I had given him a 30% chance to win. He had dropped two to Chuck Liddell by knock out and I just couldn't see how he was going to beat the giant, 6'8", hulking gorilla that would be standing across the Octagon. He was 43 for Pete's sake! I love being wrong.
"Back in the saddle" by Aerosmith erupted and I smiled. What a fitting song to make your comeback to the UFC to. I looked up at the big screens overhead and saw that trademark smirk that showed off Couture's mouthpiece. You know the one right before he pounds your face in? From underneath the hood you could see his superhero chiseled, Captain America like facial features. He had a spark in his eyes I swear a spark. He made his way to the cage with such confidence that I started to believe, just a little, but I started.
To a chorus of boos, Tim Sylvia made his way to the cage, but we weren't paying attention. Most of us were marveling at how in shape Randy was for his age. He looked like the Randy of old and again, I started to believe. Seeing Tim across the cage from him squashed some of that, but it was still there. I wanted to see Randy win so badly, for him to make that miraculous comeback that everyone was there hoping to see.
It was so loud when Bruce Buffer made his introductions, but all fell silent after all of the lights went down save for the ones directly over the Octagon. In just a few seconds the roof would come off of the Arena in what seemed like a dream. Randy landed a solid right that toppled Tim Sylvia like a character in Nintendo's Mike Tyson's Punch Out. Before it could set in, Randy was on him and pummeling him with what sounded like steel bombs.
For the rest of the round, Randy would take Sylvia's back and sink his hooks in. They would jockey for position and instead of seeing the Tim knock out I predicted, once again...I started to believe.
The second round was more of the same. Randy taking Sylvia down at will, me jumping out of my seat screaming at Randy to finish him, as he pounded him out with elbows and short right hands. No one else was bothered by my screaming because they were yelling the same. They too had started to believe.
Round 3 and we are all treated to a scary surprise. Randy is standing with Tim, but not only is he standing, he is winning the exchanges. I just knew that piston of a right hand that Tim had was a second away from crashing down on mine and the rest of the crowd's hopes that Couture could win this fight. Tim landed a few shots, but Randy was winning. I was no longer starting anything anymore. I was believing.
Dana White was now seated with his head almost inside the cage-side monitors watching as intently as every one else. The chants of "Randy! Randy!" that were deafening earlier on in the fight were now overwhelming, but I didn't care because I was chanting the same. Several times I was credited for starting them. Sorry, Tim.
The fourth round saw Randy defying all odds and winning the stand-up against the lethargic giant. Captain America was taking Tim down and just punishing him. I had to sit down a few times because I couldn't watch. I don't think I could have taken it if Sylvia had landed a lucky right hand. The UFC fighters at ringside hadn't sat down since the opening round so why should I? I was back up again. This time, I think I could see from the exhaustion on Tim's face that he was starting to believe, too.
I spent the entire fifth round watching the clock in what was the longest five minutes of my life. Randy would take him down, escape an ankle lock, mount him, and then take him back down as soon as it was stood back up. Tim Sylvia was being made an example of for all to see. Randy was saying to the world, "Age is not a factor. It's okay to believe."
My section counted down the last ten seconds of the round as if it were New Year's Eve at Times Square. When the horn sounded the Arena and I danced. I swear to you that everyone was dancing. Some were teary-eyed, some were quietly smiling, but most were like me, screaming with joy. David had just killed Goliath.
When I woke up this morning I must have said a hundred times to my wife, "Wow". There was no need for an explanation. She felt the same way and knew exactly what I was talking about. She also had the images of Randy's astonishing performance playing over and over in her head.
That night was special. That night was magical and I will always remember the feeling when Bruce Buffer announced Couture's name and pronounced him the new champion of the heavyweight division. Everyone was waiting for Cro Cop to get his shot so that he could beat Tim for the masses that despised his antics and love for his belt. Randy didn't seem to care and did it his way.
Hardcore fans chastised couture as coming out of retirement for a paycheck. He was labeled a sacrificial lamb and written off. Randy wasn't in it for the money. He wanted respect and he got it. I no longer doubt someone because of his or her age, I allow myself to believe in the underdog. I will never again doubt Randy Couture's ability. Like Joe Rogan said, "That guy is my hero".
Thank you Randy.
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