Jun 22, 2012 - If Fedor Emelianenko was ever going to retire, it was going to be just like that. Another leaping, looping explosion. Four hooks, one gorgeously fluid motion, down he goes. One, two, three, four, five more fists cracking a skull against the canvas, and it's done. Five seconds of violent poetry. Just the way we remembered it.
Much will be written about the legend of Emelianenko over the next few days, how he captured the eyes of a sport, revered as the greatest to ever live, only to fade away in irrelevance, fighting a shopworn old-timer on a sparse Thursday card to a horde of illegal video streams.
It's an unsatisfying narrative, to be sure, and one that none who lived the Pride days could ever have anticipated. In the coming months, each of us will choose how we remember "The Last Emperor." Some will undoubtedly remember the three straight losses, the cries of overrated, and the inability to come to terms with the UFC. Go ahead and let them. For me, that's impossible. The mighty Russian was one of catalysts that drew me to this sport, watching him achieve the impossible, a diminutive man defeating nightmarish giants, time and time again, in the face of improbable adversity.
No, instead of remembering the fall, or bemoaning what could've been had he not aligned himself with leeches, I'd just like to say thanks. Thank you, Fedor Emelianenko, for sacrificing yourself to grant us memories that will last a lifetime. Vodka shots for everyone, I'm buying.
5 MUST-READ STORIES Emelianenko wins, retires. Legendary PRIDE champion Fedor Emelianenko defeated Pedro Rizzo via first-round TKO at Thursday's M-1 Global event. Following the win, Emelianenko reportedly announced his retirement from the sport of mixed martial arts. UFC on FX 4 weigh-ins. All main card fighters met their required weight at Thursday's UFC on FX 4 weigh-ins, including lightweight headliners Gray Maynard and Clay Guida. On the undercard, UFC rookie C.J. Keith missed weight and will forfeit 20-percent of his purse to Ramsey Nijem. UFC gambling primer. According to Las Vegas oddsmakers, Clay Guida and Wanderlei Silva highlight the leading underdogs heading into this weekend's back-to-back UFC events. Bellator 71 weigh-ins. Light heavyweight headliners Travis Wiuff and Chris Davis were among the 18 fighters to meet their required weight at the official Bellator 71 weigh-ins. WBO reviews Pacquiao vs. Bradley. The World Boxing Organization (WBO) officially reviewed Timothy Bradley's controversial split decision win over Manny Pacquiao, with all five WBO judges scoring the bout for Pacquiao. Despite this, the WBO does not possess the authority to overturn the result. MEDIA STEW
If this is actually the end, it was a fitting end indeed.
MMA may have come a long way since the dark ages, but one has to wonder how long it'll be before the sport rids itself of these public jabs. (HT: MiddleEasy)
For anybody looking past tonight's main event, need I remind you what Clay Guida did the last time he fought.
Our own Luke Thomas broke down the Shogun-Teixeira controversy and answered the question, is Jon Jones already the greatest fighter of all time?
On October 2nd 1980, Larry Holmes gave Muhammad Ali the beating of his career. To this day, it is one fight (along with Ali's later loss to Trevor Berbick) that I and millions of boxing fans cannot bear to watch. It wasn't just the pathetic sight of a beloved icon being brutally beaten that was unbearable: it was the spectacle of a legend being destroyed. Before our eyes, the greatest boxer that ever lived was being reduced, blow by blow, into a wincing and helpless old man.
Yet somehow, Ali's reputation survived that ignominious defeat. To this day, he is revered as The Greatest of All Time. If it wasn't a perfect sporting record or the illusion of invincibility that earned him this distinction, what was it? It certainly helped that he had handily trounced the best boxers of his generation. But on the measure of pure pugilistic mettle, he wasn't that much better than Joe Frazier or Ken Norton. The real reason Ali so thoroughly surpassed those contemporaries of his in greatness was because of the way he made people feel.
When Ali fought George Foreman in Zaire in 1974, the locals shook the sky with cries of "Ali, Boma Ye!" (Ali, Kill him!). When he knocked Foreman out, it seemed every black person on the planet erupted in joyous ecstasy. Somehow, by winning, Ali had won for them. Every Muslim around the world swelled with pride that a man who shared their faith was the world's most magnificent athlete. Americans, many of whom had loathed him for his earlier militant views and Muslim faith, adored him because his courage, grace and talent reflected glory on an entire country. He made them feel good.
But do those that become great necessarily even have to be good? For later generations, Mike Tyson was their Muhammad Ali. Like Ali, his reputation for invincibility was later tarnished by a number of embarassing defeats. But still, millions (including UFC Grand Poobah Dana White) consider him a greater champion even than fighters like Evander Holyfield and Lennox Lewis who were arguably better boxers. Why? Because they remember the way they felt when Tyson fought in his prime. He electrified the world with his coruscating blend of primal brutality, precocious power and dangerous, even self-destructive, animal passion.
Outside the realm of sports, the principle holds. Many Americans fondly remember John F. Kennedy as the greatest President of modern times. This is odd, considering that his greatest achievements were an embarrassing failure to invade Cuba, starting the disastrous Viet Nam war, and taking the world to the brink of nuclear Armageddon while high on painkillers. But his Presidency was bathed in a warm glow of grace, glamour, glory and goodness. The Kennedy White House was Camelot made flesh. JFK rose to the level of greatness not by the significance of his achievements, but by how he made people feel.
And Fedor? There will always be questions about how much he deserves to be in the Pantheon of MMA greats. The mettle of his opposition will always be questioned. He never really had his 'Thrilla in Manilla' or 'Rumble in the Jungle' moment of world-beating greatness. Technical purists will always argue that there was too much of the barroom brawler in his style. Some will say that like Tyson, he was a prolific destroyer of mediocrity, who crumbled when he was finally pitted against the best in the world.
But all this doesn't matter, because for a few magic years, this unassuming and enigmatic Russian made people feel the passion, brutality and glory of MMA. His victories were not merely the triumph of a sportsman but the apotheosis of a hero. As with Tyson or even Ali, we might argue that there were better fighters. And indeed, maybe there were. But what is unarguable was that for a few special years, nobody inspired excitement, love, hope, hate and wonder like Fedor.
He made the world feel something it hadn't felt before. And that will be his legacy of greatness.
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