Shooters

by Jonathan Snowden

  Lesnar, for his part, was ready. The fight was given the full court press by the UFC — posters, billboards, advertising, the works. Lesnar had a name and if they were going to use him, the UFC wanted to make sure the world knew about it. The former WWE champ wasn’t about to be intimidated by the promotional bombast: “There’s a little pressure, but I’m not going to piss my pants or anything like that. . . . This is nothing new to me. I’ve been in front of thousands of people for eight, ten years now.”

  In the Octagon for the first time, Brock looked like he belonged. Lesnar exploded like a caged animal, knocking Mir down with a punch and nearly ending him on the ground. With Lesnar dominating the action, referee Steve Mazzagatti jumped between the two fighters. Lesnar, like many in attendance, thought the fight was over. Instead, Lesnar had a point deducted for hitting to the back of the head and Mir was given precious time to recover his senses. With a new lease on life, Mir was able to pull off a miracle. Lesnar took him right back down and proceeded punching him in the face, but the former champion had the wherewithal to catch the rookie in a fight-ending knee bar.

  Lesnar’s submission wrestling coach Erik Paulson gave his ringside perspective. “I think that Mazzagatti thought that maybe it was too early of a call so that when he stopped it, he was like, ‘Now what?’ When he raised Brock’s arm up I thought the fight was over. Then all of a sudden he goes, ‘Point,’ and all of us in Brock’s corner were like, what? I think he knew he made a mistake since he stopped and paused and then he wasn’t quite sure what to do. We all thought the fight was over. You don’t raise a fighter’s arm up in the air and then say, ‘Point.’ Dana [White] came into the locker room after the fight and said that it was a bullshit call. He said that we should file a grievance with the commission.”

  “He doesn’t deserve to watch one of our fights, let alone referee it,” White said, lambasting the embattled referee after the fight in front of the gathered media.

  Lesnar conceded he’d made a few mistakes of his own. “I understand that I’ve got 15 minutes to try to win a bout. I really rushed that fight, and I made a foolish mistake. I had Frank in a dominant position, and I stood up and fed him a foolish amateur mistake, and it was something that we worked on a million times,” Lesnar said. “Just to be a more controlled fighter and a little more relaxed in there. We’ve been working on that. It has to do with just putting time in the gym, and that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. Just trying to polish every aspect of the fight game and try to better myself every day.”

  In the immediate aftermath, UFC officials were ecstatic. They knew they had at least one solid pay-per-view buy riding the broad back of Brock Lesnar. After his display in the Octagon, it seemed Brock wouldn’t just be a flash in the pan after all. White and his team started planning for the future — one it looked like Lesnar would play a big part in.

  White, never shy about sharing an opinion, was willing to admit he’d been wrong about Lesnar. “All the guys came up to me — [Matt] Hughes, [Quinton] Rampage [Jackson], [UFC’s flagship star Chuck] Liddell — and said, ‘This guy’s going to be scary in a couple of years.’ He needs time. . . . I’ll be honest: I didn’t think he could come in here with no fights and compete on this level. He proved me wrong.”

  Next in line for Lesnar was supposed to be former UFC champion and wrestling Olympian Mark Coleman. A bulked up Coleman, who wrestled in college at 190 pounds, was one of the sport’s legends. He had essentially provided a template for wrestlers everywhere by dominating opponents with his ground and pound style. Coleman wasn’t a slick submission artist and never tried anything clever. Coleman would put his prey on the mat and proceed to demolish him with head butts, elbows, and punches.

  Coleman had excelled in the no-holds-barred early days of the sport. When rule changes were implemented to civilize the fight game, he suddenly found himself struggling. He had been content to coast on the skills he had, refusing to add to his arsenal. As the game changed, Coleman had a hard time keeping up.

  “I was content with the weapons that I had,” Coleman said. “I didn’t feel I needed to add any weapons, but all of the sudden when they did eliminate the head butt, I was way behind in the game. I had a lot of catching up to do. I hadn’t improved my game at all because I felt what I had was enough to win just about any fight. When the head butt was gone, it became a completely different sport. I definitely prefer the older rules and feel I am a better fighter with no rules. But I’m glad they added them or the sport wouldn’t even be around today.”

  Coleman, truth be told, wanted no part of Lesnar. Brock was the bigger man and just as good a wrestler. Early in his career Coleman had smashed an older wrestler, the great Dan Severn. Fueled by youth and anger, he had taken the skill set Severn introduced to the UFC and upped the ante. Severn was cautious and careful. Coleman was rage personified. He didn’t want to be Severn, humbled by a new and improved version of himself. Mark bowed out of the fight. In his place stepped Pride star Heath Herring. In his memoir, Death Clutch, Lesnar explains, “I don’t think Heath took me seriously, and that rubbed me the wrong way. He looked at me like I was a greenhorn, a WWE wrestler who didn’t belong in the Octagon with an experienced veteran like him. He acted as if it was beneath him to fight me, and I was determined to make him eat his own words.”

  Lesnar was under significant pressure to win. His first show had drawn 600,000 pay-per-view buys, half of them coming from first-time buyers. But winning was the name of the game, and the UFC wasn’t likely to stick with a main-eventer who failed time and again. Fan interest would plummet too. For Lesnar to make it, he needed to win big fights. He had purposely asked for the best, eschewing the more typical route that sees a fighter prove himself against progressively harder competition. Lesnar started at the top and didn’t intend to reinvent himself as a midcarder. He was either going to make it as a champion or move on with his life.

  Against Herring, Brock was fighting in his adopted home of Minneapolis, Minnesota. Unlike in his Las Vegas debut, Lesnar would be the crowd favorite. Maybe the more familiar environment relaxed the big man, because he opened the fight with a thunderous punch that sent Herring to the mat. The Pride star rarely got up again; he looked helpless, but survived a three-round drubbing.

  “When he hit him with that right hand,” White said, “Heath’s face — it was unbelievable when he came back to the corner. One of our guys said, ‘It looks like he’s hitting him with lunch boxes out there.’ That’s how big Brock’s hands are.” In fact, Brock’s hands are so big the UFC had to create a new glove size just to house them.

  After the fight a riled up Lesnar pretended to lasso Herring, nicknamed “The Texas Crazy Horse,” and pretended to ride him like a bucking bronco. UFC fans, used to a mutual display of respect after the fights, didn’t quite know what to think.

  “I got really excited after I won and I had every right to be,” Lesnar said. “I was coming off a loss and it was tough. I don’t like to lose. . . . I had been in front of a lot of crowds but the one thing I hadn’t been is in the Octagon. I had a lot of pressure for that first fight, more pressure than this fight. I wasn’t coming out of there without my hand being raised. That wasn’t a possibility.”

  “This is his first win,” White laughed. “He’s only had a couple of fights. He’s got a lot to learn. . . . I’m telling you, I’m blown away by his performance.”

  Next for Lesnar was supposed to be French striker Cheick Kongo, but it turned out bigger things awaited the UFC’s new star. Randy Couture, a bona fide Octagon legend and champion as both a light heavyweight and a heavyweight, was the reigning UFC heavyweight champion. Couture had been away from the Octagon for almost a year, caught in a brutal contract dispute with the UFC that featured dueling press conferences, leaked contract terms, and plenty of bad blood. Many expected Couture to challenge the UFC in court to get out of his contract, but already 45 years old, the two-time Olympian saw his window of
opportunity closing quickly.

  Although White had claimed Lesnar wasn’t ready for a title shot, money and Couture both said otherwise. Couture asked for Lesnar specifically, knowing the big man would lead to a big payday. Yet the event wasn’t promoted as hard as some inside the company would have liked. The UFC didn’t quite know what to do with a star of Lesnar’s magnitude yet. Up until this point White had been pushed harder than any individual fighter, a foul-mouthed, bald headed everyman in tight-fitting T-shirts. With a natural charisma that connected with reporters and viewers alike, White had a knack for promoting his events and fighters.

  The sports world was abuzz over this fight, like it had never been for a UFC fight before, and it had nothing to do with White’s considerable talents. Lesnar was clearly on another level, possessed of the kind of charisma that draws every eyeball in the room. Couture represented Lesnar’s polar opposite. While Lesnar was seen as brash and cocky, the consumate pro wrestler, Couture represented the humble and respectful fighting culture. But the UFC had gotten used to presenting a fight a certain way and didn’t make the most of these contrasts. Lesnar’s reluctance to come out of the Minnesota hills certainly didn’t help things.

  Falling just short of a million pay-per-view buys, UFC 91 didn’t become the best-selling event in company history. It didn’t even beat out the UFC’s very next event, a supercard with Mir taking on Antônio Rodrigo Nogueira for an interim heavyweight title that was automatically rendered moot by Couture’s return. But it was still an enormous success, in the cage as well as at the box office. Lesnar had the opportunity to become just the third pro wrestler (joining Ken Shamrock and Dan Severn) to win the UFC title and did just that. He knocked Randy down with a right hand that grazed the 45-year-old Couture’s ear, before finishing the fight with a barrage of punches on the ground.

  “I don’t remember the punch [that knocked Couture down]. The only thing I remember is hitting him about 40 times on the ground. I was wondering when the ref would stop it,” Brock said. The difference maker in this fight was pure size. Lesnar reportedly had to cut 12 pounds on the day of the weigh-ins, coming down from 277 pounds to the heavyweight limit of 265. Couture weighed in at a slim 220, actually smaller than the typical light heavyweight on fight night. Lesnar used his bulk to block Couture’s numerous takedown attempts, but it ended up being his long reach more than his weight advantage that ended the night for Couture.

  “Those are some big ass hamhocks coming at you,” Couture said with a grin.

  Lesnar won the heavyweight title in just his fourth professional fight, silencing critics who thought he was moved into the title picture early. The brash Lesnar, who was heavily booed by the partisan Couture crowd, defended his pre-fight proclamations that he had no weaknesses: “I may come across as a cocky SOB, but I’m just confident. It’s what the Lord gave me, my body and my mind. I want to thank Dana White, the UFC, and I want to thank this guy: Randy Couture. It takes a lot of balls to take a year off and come back and fight a young buck like me.”

  A rematch with Mir was next on the agenda. Originally scheduled for UFC 98, it was delayed until UFC 100 while Mir recovered from arthroscopic knee surgery. It was one time a hurdle in the UFC’s path was actually a fortuitous event. Putting Lesnar in the 100th UFC event was a marketer’s dream. The sport’s biggest star was headlining a show that the UFC put all its promotional muscle behind — and the result was record-setting PPV dollars.

  Lesnar was still the outsider, but no longer one people expected to be overwhelmed. Lesnar had been the favorite against Couture and would be again against Mir. His fans saw a man destined to be an all-time great. His critics saw a pro wrestler who didn’t understand their sport, didn’t embrace its unwritten rules of civility and respect, and, worse than being lucky, was actually good. Tens of thousands wanted to see him fight and win. Thousands more wanted to see him humbled. He was a polarizing figure, but the one thing fans on both sides of the Lesnar divide could agree on was simple — they wanted to see him fight.

  Mir was better equipped to do his part of the pre-fight promotion this time around too. Well spoken, quick, and funny, Mir had a natural confidence that came across to many as cockiness. Against most fighters, that made him the bad guy. Against Lesnar, it was just what many fans wanted to hear. His win over Lesnar had helped make him a star. An impressive performance as a coach on The Ultimate Fighter and a win over former Pride champion Nogueira solidified his spot as one of the UFC’s best. And for this second fight with Lesnar, Mir was pulling no punches in the press.

  Said Mir, “If Brock Lesnar was never in the WWE, he would have never gotten a title shot. And he knows that. . . . All I remember from last time is him whimpering and wincing as I was tapping him.”

  Mir was pushing all the right buttons and Lesnar was infuriated by the time the bell rang starting the bout. He overwhelmed Mir, using size, speed, and science to dominate the smaller man on the mat. His control of his opponent’s hips was breathtaking. He wasn’t just bigger than Mir — he was more technical as well, on this night anyway. He completely shut down Mir’s half guard, using a variety of techniques including an old catch wrestling stockade to keep Mir pinned on his back where Lesnar could do him the most harm.

  “I think nobody has been really able to understand since I’ve been training with Brock,” Erik Paulson explained. “His transitions, controlling and riding people are unbelievable. He was really good at riding people in college wrestling.”

  Lesnar stopped Mir with punches on the ground in the second round. After the bout was stopped, Lesnar went wild. With spittle flying, he got in Mir’s face while the former champion was still obviously dazed. The taunts drew boos from the crowd, prompting Lesnar to flip them off and egg them on during his post-fight interview with announcer Joe Rogan.

  “Frank Mir had a horseshoe up his ass. I told him that a year ago. I pulled the sum-bitch out and beat him over the head with it,” Lesnar yelled, pulling out his mouthpiece to better let America and the Mir family know how he felt. He told the world, while standing in a cage adorned with the Bud Light logo, that he was going to go to the back and drink a Coors instead. “A Coors Light, not a Bud Light, because they won’t pay me anything. . . . And hell, I may even get on top of my wife. See you later.”

  After the fight, Dana White tracked Lesnar down in his locker room and read him the riot act. To White, the behavior was inexcusable. The UFC had worked hard to build relationships with corporate sponsors like Budweiser, and Brock had done serious damage to the relationship. In his defense, Lesnar had a lot on his mind that night, money near the top of the list. A month before the fight White and UFC owner Lorenzo Fertitta had flown in to sign him to a new contract. They had discussed the possibility of some major endorsement deals to go along with his pay for the fights. In the end, it didn’t happen. Lesnar writes, “I’m not the easiest guy in the world to get along with. I’m also not someone who likes to be played, so the Bud Light thing was somewhere in the back of my mind during the fight with Frank Mir, and when I saw that logo on the Octagon floor, the trigger was tripped. Hey, I was on top of the world looking down. And when I looked down, I saw that big Bud Light logo, and all that went through my mind was how much money the UFC was making on that sponsorship, and how much I wasn’t.”

  White demanded an apology and Lesnar acquiesced, saying he would carry a Bud Light keg into the room when he went to meet the media. That seemed like overkill. But when the new undisputed champion came out for the post-fight press conference he was drinking a Bud Light to make amends.

  “I think it was a heat of the moment thing,” former WWE Vice President Jim Ross said. “He went on his instincts and how he felt at that time. He got a little carried away. He’s an emotional guy, a very spirited and proud guy. When you look at it in total, here’s a guy who has been training on a mat in a combat sport since he was a young kid. He paid the price to be a star from high school all the way
to college, the WWE, and now the UFC. He comes into the cage and he’s in great shape. He’s got the right demeanor and he’s got the right look. He’s got the right skill set. And he’s getting booed? He wondered what he could have done to piss off all these fans. It can be frustrating when you’ve worked so hard to get there. Brock just got caught up in the emotion of the moment.”

  Despite all of his experience in the world of pro wrestling, essentially spending years learning how to manipulate emotions with masters of the craft like Vince McMahon and his close confidante Paul Heyman, Lesnar had allowed Mir to get under his skin. An online video, with the son of Mir’s manager Dean Albrecht playing Lesnar as a muscle-bound imbecile, particularly bothered the fighter. In the end, Mir had to pay a physical price.

  “It was a revenge match 17 months in the making,” Lesnar told ESPN’s Jon Anik after the fight. “I’m a sore loser, I’ll admit that. The world has been lifted off my chest and I am the true heavyweight champion of the world. . . . It’s not that I disliked Frank. He beat me. That burns deeper than anything else. And to have to wait 17 months to get revenge on this man. And to have to listen to him talk about what he’s going to do to me. The icing on the cake was having to be pulled off by the referee.”

  For fighters and many of the sport’s media, the display was an uncomfortable reminder that Lesnar came from another world. While trash talk was common before a fight, afterwards fighters almost always embraced and shared a few words. The fact that the fight was over when the bell rang was one of the most sacred precepts of mixed martial arts — it was one of the facts defenders of cage fighting used to distinguish the bouts from street fights and the fighters from thugs.

  Heavyweight Shane Carwin was one of the most offended, speaking out against Lesnar’s post-fight conduct. Before his uncharacteristic and outspoken verbal assault on Lesnar, Carwin had mostly flown under the radar. He had won all of his fights, but was often on the undercard, out of the limelight. His trash talk bumped Carwin up from a title elimination fight with Cain Velasquez directly into a bout with Lesnar, scheduled for November 2009 at UFC 106.