Ah Strikeforce, as far as B-league MMA promotions go, you get a capital B. You’ve been good to us, you’ve been cruel to us, but we keep hoping that the good days weren’t a fluke. Were they? Read on and see!
As always I arrive hilariously early and get to watch fully and disappointingly clothed fighters futzing around in the ring. Matt Lindland has huge ears, Gilbert Melendez lays on the ground, Scott Smith wears surprisingly formal attire. Five star night so far.
We begin with Alex Crispin, who comes out with my two favorite things: DMX and a crisp white gi. The music of DMX, not the actual DMX. Come on people, don’t be retarded. AJ Fonseca is his opponent who gives five to the fans as though he were Hulk Hogan or some other similarly great Real American. Fonseca has purple trunks, the color of royalty. A rich indigo hue. The first round sees them standing and trading like children might do with Pokemon cards on a school playground.
In the second round, we see some ground scrambling before both men are stood up. The audience wildly cheers this, the location in which neither man can conceivably end the fight. They are not boxers, with hands or with feet.
It’s the third round and you have to think Crispin is winning this fight that carries, frankly, no implications whatsoever. These guys are young, sure, but they also stink absolutely. The round ends with Fonseca going for a heel hook but he doesn’t get it and Crispin, a reprehensible young man, wins the fight. Let us continue.
Alex Crispin by decision.
I drink an energy shot that was floating in my backpack. Perhaps my heart will burst. I pray that it does.
Second match and we’re talking serious goddamn business talk over here with Daisuke Nakamura! As everyone with half a freakin’ brain knows, the Japanese are the king of all nationalities. Nakamura is no exception, he comes out in speedos and a banzai headband, his music being none other than Linkin Park. It is our country’s anthem that informs us we are one step closer to the edge and thusly about to break. His opponent is Justin Wilcox who is a sublimely muscled young man. He wears boardshorts and comes out to Eminem but my god, his deltoids. He is also cornered by Josh Koscheck who is just, dare I say, fabulous.
Nakamura does the wacky Japanese fighter thing where I guess he doesn’t expect to get punched so his arms loosely whip around his midsection like a cat’s tail and as a result he gets socked in the mouth more times than I would ever want. In round two, Nakamura’s eye is plucked out in exchange for omniscience. Just kidding, that doesn’t happen. In round three, Nakamura uses his astounding ground skills to STAND UP and get punched more. I would say, from a neutral and amateur perspective, that the biggest problem these guys have is that they suck pretty bad.
The judges give Wilcox the fight and referee Josh Rosenthal looks heartily bemused. Why not?
Justin Wilcox by decision.
In our third and increasingly stupid fight of the evening, Antwain Britt appears! He is aptly nicknamed the Juggernaut as he is an absolutely monstrous young man. Britt comes out to California Love (with the prevailing sentiment being that California does indeed know how to party.) I was told my a now-former Internet friend that Scott Lighty comes out to Slayer, but he doesn’t and my negative mental waves sent his way as a result appear to be his undoing. He eats an ungodly amount of punishment in the first and a merciful doctor decides to not let him enter a second round. Britt is a guy I would dislike being punched by.
Antwain Britt by stoppage (R1).
Hey, I see Bobby Lashley. He is wide. Lay Bobby Lashley down between Israel and the Gaza Strip and they’ll stop fighting. He also has a very pronounced brow.
Anyway, hey, it’s time for the main card. The part that will be on television because some of these guys have been heard of by people and some of them will be beat up by the people we’ve heard of! It’s the main card! Let’s goooooooooooooooooooo.
Mike Whitehead has a truly unfortunate name. He’s a fat man, a fat man with a goddamn terrible name and what choice could he ever have but to fight? He is fighting the King Mo, KING MO, this King Mo. This King Mo is such a fine man. He comes out with dancing girls and an umbrella. King Mo wins really hard, largely by killing Whitehead. I would say 95% of his victory is directly attributable to his killing Mike Whitehead, the other 5% is due to his entrance. After he wins, he does his best Stone Cold Steve Austin impersonation except with Rockstar Energy Drink instead of Miller Light. I imagine our young king is still awake due to the Rockstar he consumed. A charismatic fellow, to be sure.
“King” Mo Lawal by TKO (R1).
Jacare Souza, with Jacare being a nickname. What does Jacare mean? No one knows. It probably is just another name. His name in English is probably like John “Steve” Souza. But who can say and furthermore who could possibly care? He faces two time Olympian Matt Lindland. I respect Lindland’s floppy ass ears and I respect American Olympians. I also respect truly hideous dudes and Lindland fits that bill. Unfortunately Jacare doesn’t share that respect and taps Lindland out with an arm triangle. A fine maneuver albeit disappointing for Lindland and one has to think he might be thinking to call it quits for his MMA career. I’d call it quits for him but what do I know?
Ronaldo “Jacare” Souza by submission (R1)
Cung Le is interviewed by A BEAUTIFUL BLOND! That’s about all there is to say about that part.
Hey look at me! I’m writing a wacky MMA review!
Deathvalleydriver.com’s own Gilbert Melendez shall now face drop dead gorgeous (Admit it, he’s beautiful) Josh Thomson in a 5 round lightweight title bout. I know someone who knows someone who knows Thomson which makes him my dude. This fight is, oh boy. It’s five full rounds of flurries. So many flurries. Flurrious. Melendez hadn’t necessarily impressed me standing before but he seems to have picked up a thing or two in the interim and we’re off to the races. Thomson gets a shot in the boys and we all weep for his boys. But there is no hard feelings between these sportsmen. These men of sport. These…masters of sport. They continue flurrying, perhaps out of solidarity for our east coast brothers who are being blanketed beneath the cardiovascularly endowed hammerfists of Father Winter. Stay up, East Coast. Anyway, fun little fight. I think Melendez wins but who can say? Apparently I can say, I can say just fine. Give me money, someone. Anyone.
Gilbert Melendez by decision.
Alright! Main event time yall! Will Scott Smith incur further traumatic brain injury on his way to a last minute knockout or will Cung Le‘s Street Fighter 2 offense where every button on the controller but strong kick is broken win the day? I hope Smith wins because I put money on him. The first round sees Le’s truly audacious kicks scoring at will, Smith is truly a miracle worker just to stay alive against this brutality. Each kick is the equivalent of a new mistress to Elin Woods’ self esteem. Second round, we see what Cung Le has on the ground. What he has is the rape choke. I didn’t know the rape choke was a legal maneuver in MMA but apparently it’s both legal and ineffective.
Third round and we’re seeing Scott Smith display his only skill which is wild desperate punches. If I could only pick one MMA skill, I would.. I’ll be honest, that’s what I’d pick. And! It’s a great one to pick as Scott Smith’s wild half-comatose punching knocks Cung Le out for the first time ever! I should have bet everything I own on Scott Smith, that dude rules. I’m not so sure what Cung Le’s nose used to look like but it looks like it’s trying to slyly sneak away from the rest of his face now. It’s an ashamed nose. It hopes to escape without anyone noticing it’s getting the hell out of there. But I see you, Mr. Nosey!
Scott Smith by KO (R3)
Anyway, Strikeforce was as it always is. Maybe they don’t have the most talented fighters in the world but they certainly have some of the dumbest fighters. And really in sports, it’s better to lose excitingly than win a dull thoughtful victory. So as I always do, I give Strikeforce a thumbs up from a mindless t-shirt guy perspective. Keep on keepin’ on, Strikeforce. I look forward to seeing what triflin’ foolishness you have for us in 2010. And may God bless America.
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