A Toast for the D-Bag: Here's to you, Mr. Koscheck

By Elton Hobson


Let’s have a toast for the d*****bags, let’s have a toast for the a**holes, let’s have a toast for the scumbags, every one of them that I know. Let’s have a toast for the jerkoffs, thatll never take work off.
For those of you that can’t stand him, I apologize for sullying a good MMA discussion with a Kanye West song. That said, I felt like the rapper’s latest hit/mea culpa/excercise in self-indulgence is particularly appropriate after last night’s UFC 124 main event.
And of course, I’m talking about MMA’s premier D-bag: Josh Koscheck.
After months of trash talk, over the top boasting, reality TV hijinks, male nurse bashing and borderline homoerotic comments had everyone hyped to the nines, the welterweight title fight between Georges St. Pierre and Josh Koscheck proved to be horrendously one sided.
For 25 minutes, St. Pierre teed off on the challengers face almost at will. He broke Koscheck’s orbital bone, avoided any damage in return, and put on a clinic of jabs, hooks, leg kicks and Superman punches. Aside from a brief take down, Koscheck had nothing to offer GSP.

Post-fight analyses have been a slew of congratulatory sentiments for GSP across the board, with many calling him perhaps the greatest fighter in Mixed Martial Arts today. And yet, in the midst of this “rush” to heap praise on GSP (see what I did there?), I can’t help but to offer a tip of my hat to Josh Koscheck.
Yes, I want to praise Josh Koscheck – the man dominated so totally and so completely that he may never again receive another shot at the title.
For the 23,000 fans in attendance, this fight was everything you could have asked for: 5 rounds of the hometown good guy trouncing possibly the sport’s biggest villain. Everyone who was in attendance that night had a great time.
I know, because I was one of them.
I’ve beat this drum before, but there’s nothing like a GSP fight in Montreal. No fighter in MMA – bar none – commands fan energy and adulation in their hometown like Mr. St. Pierre does in Montreal. The crowd was white-hot from the opening bell to the final decision, screaming, chanting, and cheering like the drunken Canadian lunatics we were. Think a World Cup final, crossed with a group therapy session, bred with one of those crazy deep-South revivals.
And of course, we booed the living sh*t out of Josh Koscheck.
I didn’t, though. Honest. I clapped politely when he entered the Bell Centre, while around me people booed, flipped him the bird, and showered him with sentiments they probably wouldn’t want repeated in front of their mothers – except that it was a GSP fight, meaning their mothers were likely there as well, booing and cursing right along with them.
I also didn’t partake in the “F*ck You Koscheck!” chant, which I thought was in particularly bad taste. For Pete’s sake, he’s already getting the living crap beat out of him in front of thousands of people. Isn’t that enough? Talk about kicking someone when they’re down.
Not trying to be a snob here – Kos certainly did everything he could to earn those boos, after all. If you jeered him, I certainly don’t blame you. For my part, I think being GSP’d is a bad enough fate for any man.
And what a GSP’ing it was. Yet amid the absolute adrenaline rush of watching perhaps the best all-around martial artist on planet Earth do his thing, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Koscheck.
The man had clearly done his homework. In their first fight, Kos was thoroughly out-wrestled by GSP, and he was clearly determined to avoid that fate the second time around. In that regard, he largely succeeded. He stuffed most of St. Pierre’s take downs, and even managed one of his own in the first round. Amid all the adulation being heaped on GSP, the fact that his wrestling game was largely stifled has been entirely overlooked.
That’s probably because it didn’t make a damn bit of difference. Kos kept the fight on the feet, where GSP battered him almost at will, picking him apart with a technical perfection rarely seen in MMA. An early victim of this fight was Kos’s orbital bone, shattered by a St. Pierre jab. With each passing minute, the swelling on his face got worse; Koscheck’s vision was further diminished and St. Pierre continued to hone in on the break with hooks and head kicks.
From the 3rd round onwards, and arguably sooner then that, Kos was a desperate man, a broken fighter – looking not to prevail, but simply to survive.
Kos trained hard for this fight for months. He showed up in shape, and with a game plan that gave him the best possible chance of victory. Kos gave months of his life in training, gave this fight everything he had, and what does he gave to show for it? A broken orbital bone, a bloodied face, months of rehab ahead of him, and zero chance of another title shot so long as St. Pierre holds the title.
All he can say is that he went the distance. That he was defeated, but he was never beaten. For a fighter as competitive as Kos, that must be a bitter pill to swallow.
Yet he should hold his head up high. If nothing else, Kos proved what a tough SOB he really is. He fought almost 5 full rounds with a broken bone in his face, barely able to see. He could have quit at any point. When the ringside doctor checked on him after the 3rd round, he could easily have taken that “out” and stop the beating with no damage to his pride.
But he didn’t. He stayed in there, took the best shots GSP had to give him, and never stopped trying to win the fight, even while 23,000 people jeered and taunted him.
I hope fans remember the true display of heart and grit Koscheck put on Saturday night. I hope that even amidst the scorn and the ridicule, fans aknowledge what a mentally strong fighter Kos really is. So long derided for being a “princess”, faking injuries and fouls with regularity, Koscheck proved beyond all doubt that in the realm of mental fortitude, Koscheck is truly unshakable.
Most of all, I hope Koscheck can show this fight to his kids and grand kids one day, and do so with pride. For 25 minutes, he danced under those lights with the absolute best in the world, took everything he had to offer, and never backed down. Most people will go their whole lives never knowing if they measure up to greatness. Koscheck no longer has this uncertainty.
So Kos, here’s to ya. Here’s hoping we haven’t seen the last of you at the sports elite level. You’ve earned that much.

UFC 117: Anderson Silva, Chael Sonnen, and the Miracle in Oakland

By Elton Hobson

As I watched the weigh-ins for tonight’s UFC 117 from Oakland, something occurred to me. It happened right as champion and challenger squared off for the “face to face” photo op, and Anderson Silva turned away from Chael Sonnen in distain (pictured above, in reverse, from earlier press conference) while the crowd roared. Watching this scene, I began to get the feeling that I was watching something that was impossible.

Or more accurately, that what I was watching was nothing less then a PR miracle. And all thanks to one man - or is he more myth and superstition then man? Yes, folks, the Superman is real, and he’s a Republican.

Let’s flashback a couple of months to this past April, when this match-up was first announced. Silva was coming off the absolute disaster that was UFC 112, and his “fight” with Demian Maia. Man, it sucked to be Anderson Silva back then. After three straight stinkers, broken up only by his rapid destruction of fan favourite Forrest Griffin, fans had finally, terminally given up on the sport’s pound for pound king and possibly greatest ever fighter.

It’s no exaggeration to say that at the time, “The Spider” was the most hated man in the sport. There were many, many people in those days who vowed never to order an Anderson Silva headlined card again. Dana White was near desperate in his concessions and apologies, vowing to “make this one up” to the fans. His super fight with GSP was put in permanent limbo, and there was serious talk of his being suspended or even cut from the company.

And Chael Sonnen? Well he was coming off a win over top ranked Nate Marquardt, and enjoying his first blip of casual fan attention.

Sure, he earned a lot of fans with his gritty performance in that fight, and his entertaining comments to Joe Rogan afterwards. But prior to that, Sonnen had being flying under the radar at 185 lbs, the dark horse contender in the middleweight division. Worse, he had acquired a reputation as a “boring” fighter, a Greco-Roman wrestling decision machine whose unspectacular, plodding style seemed destined to make him the Jon Fitch of the 185’ers.

When this fight was announced, no one jumped out of their chairs in excitement. The Decision Machine vs. The Dancing Queen? I think I’ll pass, thanks. Fans yawned. Media yawned. Dana wept.

Chael Sonnen ( R ) cracked his knuckles in excitement. In the history of the UFC, there are few fighters who have so dramatically and decisively risen to seize a moment as Sonnen has done. The former Republican State Senate hopeful and Real Estate agent (what a perfect combo for fight selling, by the way) got to work, and he has painted his Sistine Chapel.

His months long campaign of side-splitting trash talk, bald-faced lies, and borderline psychotic rants against Silva isn’t just funny. It isn’t just irritating. It’s not just eloquent, or embarrassingly stupid, or perfectly timed, or way over the top. It’s all those things, and possibly even more.

In my opinion, it’s nothing short of brilliant, a marketing coup like nothing we’ve seen before in MMA.

When people say Sonnen has created lots of hype for his UFC 117 title shot, they really fail to capture the whole picture. Just creating “hype” is easy. Tito Ortiz has already created hype for his next, Rolling Stones-esque “comeback fight” by making fun of Matt Hamill’s deafness. Put a camera in Nick Diaz’s face, and you’ll get a stoned, F-word filled rant that would out crazy anything Sonnen has said. And don’t get Brock Lesnar started on Bud Light.

No, what Sonnen has done is far more impressive. When Sonnen took to the scale yesterday, he was booed heavily. When Silva appeared, the crowd actually cheered a little bit. When Silva turned away from Chael, that noise grew to a roar. The tension, the excitement, and the energy in that room was palpable, even through my tiny laptop screen.

It was a scene that only months ago would have been a laughable fantasy. But there it was. The most hated man in the sport is, once again, a good guy.

Chael Sonnen didn’t just successfully sell this fight. He sold this fight with himself as the “heel” (bad guy in wrestling lingo), a far better narrative as far as the UFC is concerned. Anderson Silva is the top fighter in the game today. Him being hated and despised and booed is a situation the UFC (and let’s be honest, the sport itself) could really do without.

So Sonnen went beyond the pale. Like the aforementioned Nick Diaz, the Oregon native wasn’t afraid to say and do whatever he felt like. Unlike Diaz, his madness had a method. Say what you will about him, but Sonnen is certainly clever and witty, even if in an overt, blunt way, and he has a great sense of timing. In short, he can sling BS with the best of ‘em.

And sling he did. For months and months and months. It worked cause it was funny, or cause he could deliver it with a straight face. It worked because it irritated you, and eventually you wanted him to shut up. It worked because his sense of timing was incredible, moving from one outrageous claim or story to the next with perfect fluidity.

Nothing was safe. Nothing was taboo. Race, religion, ethnicity, nationality - even Lance Armstrong's testicular cancer.

In the process, Sonnen has sold us a golden proposition. After all this talk, after all these outlandish claims and boorish insults and outright lies, we want to see somebody, anybody, shut his mouth. We want to see him eat a big slice of humble pie - preferably while lying starry eyed on top of the “Amp Energy” logo.

And who better to deliver that then the sport’s undisputed KO king? So congratulations, Mr. Sonnen. You’ve earned your big payday, and your hefty increase in fan recognition. You may have made your whole career with the lead up to this fight alone. For what it’s worth, I really do hope you find a way to take Anderson down and hold him there for all 25 minutes.

Or that you like eating your meals through a straw. Cause you’ve clearly made Anderson Silva angry. You wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.