But in a sport such as boxing, especially in its past form, one must set their sights on a shared experience among men in order to understand its vast worth.

Boxing’s most celebrated division – the Heavyweights – experienced its Golden Age some four decades ago.  It was then that the world witnessed a bevy of quality competition among gladiators of the last century.  As we find the division today, lost in a bland state of lackluster monotony, it’s difficult to imagine a time when just to be a contender turned you into a household name.

The men who defined this era made careers fighting in phone booths, yet never actually needed one to do so.  It came natural.  The same warrior creed that each of them shared would have it no other way.  The heavyweight mainstays of the 1970s had a single understood process: sign the contract, lace up the gloves, and cake the canvas with a quart of blood. Put simply, they were fighters.

That is why it’s hard to imagine any fighter, especially those who wrote such a chapter in the sport’s history, to leave this world in a way that is not in some way due to the toll they took between the ropes.

In less than four months, the boxing world has lost three combatants from the heyday of heavyweight boxing – Joe Frazier, Scott LeDoux, and Ron Lyle.  While only Frazier ever laid claim to the world title, all three men helped in writing the heavyweight story that we all long for today. 

Lyle is the latest to depart this world after succumbing to a stomach abscess over the weekend.  He was 70 years old.  A convict by age 19, Lyle, who was serving a stint for second-degree murder, required upwards of 30 pints of blood following a prison stabbing.  Having cheated death, the young con turned to boxing and other sports as an avenue to control his aggression and possibly gain a piece of his life back.  Late into the fight game, the heavyweight became a stalwart of the 1970s and may be best remembered for having been stopped by Muhammad Ali in the 11th round of a fight in which he found himself leading on two scorecards and even on a third.  Most significantly, perhaps, was the war he waged in a losing effort to George Foreman.  Though falling to the two-time champion in five rounds, Lyle floored Foreman twice in the fourth in what many ring experts regard as the finest single round in the history of the fight game.

While some casual sports fans may recall Scott LeDoux’s more recent work as ESPN’s color man for its Tuesday Night Fights series, an earlier act in the Minnesota native’s life was spent as a heavyweight contender.  Having fought eight men who at one time or another shared a portion of the heavyweight crown, LeDoux earned draws against both Leon Spinks and Ken Norton, while also losing a title bid against Larry Holmes.  A workman-like fighter, LeDoux paid a dear price for ring acclaim.  In August of this year, he passed away after a three-year battle with Lou Gehrig’s Disease.  The disease is often linked to Dementia Pugilistica, a condition that is believed to result from the accumulated blows to the head that fighters commonly suffer.

Then, of course, there’s ‘Smokin’ Joe who also recently fought his final round in this fleeting bout called life.  There’s little that can be added to the tributes and recollections afforded to the all-time great in recent weeks. Although a brief battle with liver cancer is the official cause of death, it’s heard to imagine that the many rounds and blows he took part in had nothing to do with his death.

Death, whatever the cause or timeliness, is tragic.  It signifies the end to a story, an existence.  While all of our stories are diverse and unlike any other, the guaranteed endings are all essentially the same.  However, what Frazier, LeDoux, and Lyle took part in during their lives is everlasting.  Far too significant to ever be captured in a still frame, these men, and all whom they ever shared a ring with, gave all of themselves.  They were warriors; fistic poets hell-bent on earning a moment’s supremacy.

Some will say that they were too dumb in choosing careers where ducking or stepping back are frowned upon.  Others will see them as wise enough to know that what they were doing would last forever.

All I will do is say ‘thank you’ for sharing your art with the generations that have followed.

Rest in Peace…

Sometimes, if not often, they may be remembered for a lone effort (see Leon Spinks, ‘Buster’ Douglas, and Carlos Baldomir), but never can you truly judge a boxer’s legacy or standing by one outing.

Saturday night, Manny Pacquiao engaged in yet another razor-close exhibition against the hard-nosed Juan Manuel Marquez.  Like two previous outings that resulted in a draw and a Pacquiao split-decision, this one proved fodder for post-mortem debate.

Within seconds Michael Buffer’s declaration of the winner, the internet was abuzz with supporters from both corners attesting why their guy deserved to have his hand raised in victory.  While Marquez fans launched vehement wails of robbery, worldwide members of Team Pacquiao gave testimonials as to why the better man won.

From my humbled seat at the bar, I had it 115-113 for the Pac-Man after twelve rounds in which I would have comfortably seen called a draw. It was a close fight by every perceivable mean with Marquez landing the heavier power blows, while Pacquiao served as the aggressor with more punches thrown and landed.  In fact, it’s hard not to add significant credence to the thought that trainer Nacho Beristain cost Marquez the fight through between-rounds insistence that his fighter was winning the bout.  Whatever the case, the 116-112 scorecard of Judge Glenn Trowbridge was trivial at best.

So now that Pacquiao-Marquez III belongs to the history books, let’s waft away some of the knee-jerk reactions cluttering the boxing air as of now.

#1 — Marquez was not ‘robbed’

Juan Manuel Marquez is a good fighter – a verygood fighter.  His record and ring heroics will go down among the top in the history of Mexican boxing.  However, he is a Mexican fighter and that is an onus that only they can know.  The ability to show heart and balls in the latter rounds is not quite enough to hang your hat alongside those of Chavez, Barerra, and Morales -  you gotta’ win.  Marquez did not.

Three cracks at Pacquiao he has had, and while each of them as equally valiant as the one before, not once has he been able to top the Pilipino firestorm.  As I mentioned, Pacquiao threw more and landed more, and he managed to fend off much of the Mexican’s onslaught through a consistent, textbook usage of the jab.  Marquez’s power shots looked beautiful when played between rounds in slow motion replay, but they had little sustaining effect throughout.

An age-old adage in professional boxing is that you never leave it up to the judges, but Marquez has done so three times against one of the two best fighters in the world today.

#2 — Pacquiao is human after all

Manny Pacquiao turned in a good performance Saturday night, but for a ring immortal such as himself, it left viewers lukewarm.  Pacquiao took a few rounds to build up a rhythm and get comfortable and Marquez billowed forward with fury.  Not until the mid-to-late rounds did the eight-division champion really begin to open his angles and act as matador to Marquez’s bull.

More different than that though was the fact that Pacquiao appeared uncharacteristically tired between rounds.  No, he was not huffing or gasping for air or sucking on the water bottle for seconds at a time.  Simply, he removed Superman’s cape to appear as a well-conditioned, albeit quite human, boxer in need of a sixty-second rest.  His eyes weren’t as calm and his torso bobbed with an unfamiliar gait.  Perhaps it’s the toll of age and war closing in on boxing’s number-one star, or maybe it was the anxiety of having to go another stanza with Mexico’s modern day ring warrior.  Whatever the case, I find it hard to believe that Pacquiao, Roach and Ariza just came out of their best training stint.

#3 — We don’t need a fourth fight

Again, Marquez had three cracks ending by ways of draw, split decision, and majority decision, without coming out on top once. He has two losses to Pacquiao and a shut-out loss to Mayweather.  He can either continue to cash-in as a top-tier fighter on the outskirts of the sport’s elite caliber, or he can hang them up and wait for Canastota to call his name.  In either case, another fight would do little to command attention or drive the sport forward.

#4 — Pacquiao-Marquez III has no bearing on the outcome of a Pacquiao-Mayweather fight

I ‘unfollowed’ about thirty casual boxing gurus from my Twitter feed following the fight, due to their grand claims that this weekend’s showing proves that Mayweather would ‘house’ or ‘destroy’ Pacquiao.

Quite frankly, it doesn’t. It never does. You can’t make the argument that ‘this guy did this against him, so he is gonna do that when they fight.’  It doesn’t work.  Look, Tony Tucker beat Buster Douglas who beat Mike Tyson who beat Tony Tucker.  Still not sure?  Muhammad Ali beat George Foreman who beat Joe Frazier who beat Muhammad Ali.  I can go on, but I won’t because I know you’re not stupid.  Boxing is cyclical. It’s cyclical in popularity, appeal, depth, and match-ups.

Marquez is Pacquiao’s foil.  Their styles match up in that certain way that makes for great bouts.  Marquez stood in the ring Saturday with the best possible version of Manny Pacquiao that the fight required.  Conversely, Mayweather’s approach was a nightmare for Marquez and if they had fought ten times, Money May would have come out on top each time. Styles make fights, and records mean next to nothing.

Boxing doesn’t need Pacquiao-Mayweather, but the world wants it.  After years of that fight growing more and more unlikely, the world is beginning to bash the mere thought of it in order to gain some sort of solace. But there’s no need.

Mark my words. If Manny Pacquiao and Floyd Mayweather ever enter the same ring, the world will see a fight well-worth waiting for.

Boxing is the “fool’s gold” of sport. It defies all that we learn from the time we are children into adulthood.

Whether it’s the endless wails of a mother over her child’s scraped knee or the sharp wince accompanying the arthritic spasm of a retiree, we are too often reminded that human beings are made to be broken.

Yet, as wounds bleed and bones creak, the long cannon of boxing offers the endless illusion of immortality.

As Joe Frazier succumbed to the final bell of his 67 years on Monday night, this boxing scribe again realized that there are some canvases off of which we can never rise. The fighter who long-prided himself on having never taken a backward step, departed this world and left behind a mass of mourners from all corners of the world.

Born a sharecropper’s son in Beaufort, South Carolina, Frazier had no choice but to acclimate himself to the blue-collar lifestyle under the gaze of Jim Crow. Few people know that his father, Rubin, had suffered an injury that resulted with the amputation of his left hand and forearm. That meant that young Joseph literally had to become his father’s left hand while carrying bushels and loads on the farm. As if drawn from an ancient Greek legend, from an early age the young boy had already begun cultivating the strength that would one-day take him to a world championship under the tutelage of the great Eddie Futch.

If Joe was born in Beaufort, it can be said that he was brought to life in Philadelphia. The epitome of a ‘Philadelphia fighter’, tough-as-nails and willing to take four to land one, Frazier embodied the same working-class style that had once carried Dempsey and Marciano to the Heavyweight crown. Following a successful amateur career that landed an Olympic Gold Medal at the 1964 Tokyo Games, Joe pursued the professional ranks inside the Philly’s hallowed boxing gyms.

In the days when our earth trembled, the poetry and fury of Muhammad Ali reverberated from continent to continent. A champion, a misfit, a hero, the 25 year old Heavyweight Champion who twice stunned the fearsome Sonny Liston found himself stripped of the title and facing incarceration for failure to be inducted in the United States Armed Forces. Within a moment’s wink, the world was without a champion at time when such a label meant something.

Enter Joe Frazier.

Upon order of the New York State Athletic Commission, Frazier knocked out Buster Mathis to win the belt that had previously been vacated with Ali’s suspension. However, the world knew that nothing short of an Ali-Frazier duel would suffice in crowning a new champion.

And duel they did. For 41 rounds in the span of four years, Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier signed a blood oath that would follow them until Frazier’s last breath. Whether inside Madison Square Garden or in the sweltering heat of the Philippines, whenever the pair met, they did so at what seemed to be the center of the universe.

In three fights, Frazier won once and Ali twice, but both eternally linked themselves to one another. In their third and most epic bout, the Thrilla in Manilla, the world witnessed two men hell-bent on certain death. One, Ali, perceived himself as the victim of society’s outdated and prejudicial norms. Frazier, saw himself as a black man of humbled beginnings, stripped away of his identity by his pugilistic foil. Both were willing to die in hopes of reclaiming their identities, yet each survived forever changed.

Over the past decades, it’s become difficult to catch a glimpse of Ali in his Parkinson’s-state and not wonder how much of it was ‘Smokin’ Joe’-induced. In the years leading to his recent passing, Frazier’s slurred speech and slowed demeanor were without question attributable, in part, to the 41 rounds that they shared.

In an era when boxing titles are distributed like Halloween treats, it’s hard to recall the live-or-die creed that fighters once carried. Numerous ringside observers on-hand in the Philippines that night have recounted how close each boxer was to death. Ali himself has noted that it was the closest to death he had ever been.

Yet, what they gave the world was far more beautiful than brutal. Two gladiators alone in the ring, willing to sacrifice soul and self for a sheer shred of glory.

Unfairly, Frazier will forever be known as Ali’s foil. However, the boy from Beaufort grew into so much more. Without him, Ali would never have been possible. During an era when the world needed a champion, Frazier earned an honest claim to the crown. He fought greats and champions from Quarry to Foster and Ali to Foreman. Though he did not always find himself winning, Frazier certainly was never seen retreating.

Now we live in a world with no Joe Frazier. Philadelphia falls silent this week, as does the boxing community.

But there remains a lone thought allowing us to sleep easy tonight. It’s that somewhere, right now, Joe Frazier is a young man again. He just made his way into some boxing gym at the top of the steps. There are no tattered fight posters adorning the walls, but rather a sea of familiar faces. They have names like Patterson, Pep, Marciano, Robinson, Louis, and Dempsey. Eddie Futch is there, too.

Just then, the old sage of a trainer tosses the youngster a pair of gloves. He smiles and says, “There ain’t no losin’ up here, kid.”

Up goes Frazier . . . Rest in Peace.

For anyone that paid $70 to watch the Mayweather vs. Ortiz fight last night I apologize. Every bit of scum that you needed to witness can be seen in the video below.

Here is a quick round-up. Ortiz through a head butt, which was uncalled for but nothing too ridiculous. It’s a fight, s**t happens. But what happens next just blows my mind.

Not one, but two unprotected cheap shots from Mayweather, and the fight is over.

Oh, and if you have the patience to watch the whole video, the post fight interview is just another reason to hate Mayweather. Although, even 50 years ago, I don’t think Larry Merchant could have even kicked my ass.

“Giving Ron Pawlus the next 4 Heisman Trophies” thinks I spoke too soon.

On Saturday night, Jon “Bones” Jones sauntered into the UFC Octagon as the challenger to champion Mauricio “Shogun” Rua in the light heavyweight division. 

Shogun is a legend in MMA, the UFC light heavyweight champion, and one of the most decorated fighters of all time.  All the decorations on the planet couldn’t save Shogun from what was about to happen.

Jon Jones stands 6’4, and has a “Dhalsim-like” 84.5” reach.  Jones’ striking skills are much improved in his time at the UFC, and what’s more impressive is that he has NEVER been taken down in his eight UFC fights. 

How do you beat a guy with an enormous reach that can’t be taken down?  You can’t, and Shogun quickly found that to be true.

Jones annihilated Rua, and that may be an understatement.  “Bones” dominated every facate and every stage of the fight.  His muay thai was flawless and his ground and pound was vicious. 

Never was he in danger of losing the fight… and in mixed martial arts, that isn’t a very common thing to hear.

As if becoming the youngest title holder in UFC history wasn’t impressive enough, earlier in the day Jon Jones did something evern more extraordinary. 

He ran down a criminal and held him on the street until the police arrived — while documenting the entire episode on Twitter.

Think about that for a minute…  literally HOURS before the biggest fight of his young career, Jon Jones put himself in harm’s way for a greater good.

Jones won the fight… but even if he hadn’t, it’s clear to anyone paying attention that this kid is a champion.

Earlier this month, the Bengals wide receiver publicly called out UFC Champion Anderson “The Spider” Silva, and challenged him to a fight.

Johnson tweeted “…once the CBA expires tomorrow I’m free to beat his a$$ any time any where!!”

For those of you that aren’t savvy mixed martial arts fans, Anderson Silva is the best fighter in the UFC and potentially the baddest dude on the planet.  Silva makes his living fighting, that’s who he is and that’s what he does.

People may think Johnson is kidding about this, but I don’t believe he is.  I think he is serious.  Professional athletes have a larger than life ego and a sense of being super human.  Chad Johnson is banging that drum harder and louder than anyone.

Never has a player barked as loud as Johnson, while performing so underwhelmingly.  Perhaps Johnson should worry less about fighting Anderson Silva and worry more about the fact that he had less yards last year than Anthony Armstrong. 

In the end, this fight will never happen.  Johnson is safe in the land of Twitter, free to continually run his mouth with seemingly no repercussions.  Johnson has the peace of mind that he will never have to take a hit from a real fighter… well, at least not THAT real fighter.

#85 still has to go across the middle against Tom Zbikowski and the Ravens twice a year.

And that’s something we can all look forward to.

The video below actually shows a calmer version of Mayweather than I would have anticipated in a moment like this. The security guard is obviously being a c********r just for the sake of being a c********r. He knows who Floyd Mayweather is, yet he won’t let him in his complex because he didn’t have an ID. I mean, I can’t stand the motherf**ker, but he’s got a right to be pissed on this one.

Manny Pacquiao once again proved his dominance on the sport of boxing by completely owning Antonio Margarito for his 52nd professional boxing win of his career.  Pacquiao’s blindingly fast hands were too much for Margarito, as they have been for almost anyone who’s ever fought him.  He didn’t just win, he fractured Margarito’s face.

He has now won a belt in eight different weight classes — proving that he is probably the best pound-for-pound in the world, and maybe in the history of the sport.

Everyone’s favorite racist/homophobe Floyd Mayweather might have something to say about that, but we don’t have any interest in hearing it.  One day they may fight each other, but until then, we’ll keep our eyes on the real champion: Manny Pacquiao.

For those of you who haven’t seen much Pacman in the past, we offer a sweet video compilation of every knockout he has earned from 1995-2009.  We realize the two-part video is a year old, but that doesn’t make it any less awesome.

Part One

Part Two

This on the heels of a undercover video from (who else?) The News of the World with shocking video of Hatton snorting line after line of cocaine before a night out on the town.

In the video below, you see he takes each line with ease — and I bet you it’s not junk, either.  Damn.

Ricky Hatton has only lost to two boxers in his career: Manny Pacquiao and Floyd Mayweather.  Not a bad duo to lose to if I say so myself.  Even though he didn’t put up much of a fight versus Pacquiao, he is still considered one of the best boxers in the world.

And although he hasn’t fought in over a year, he has yet to formally retire. 

He is also well known for his extreme binging and purging, losing loads of weight before fights and then putting back on the pounds between them.  That combined with his penchant for partying, his heart can’t be in good shape right now.

This video is amazing.  How the f**k do they get a camera there?  I mean, there’s no way he knew about the camera.  This shot is incredible.  With them breaking this and the Pakistan cricket scandal within days of each other, I really want to know how in the hell the NOTW keeps getting this unbelievable footage!!!

No coke-using former boxing champ is safe in England when NOTW is on the prowl.  Anyone remember Joe Calzaghe?

Floyd Mayweather’s recent rant on Ustream was not clever s**t talking.  It couldn’t have been effective either.  It’s too transparent.  It’s embarassing to watch.  I feel stupider having seen the whole damn thing. 

I wish someone would finally beat his ass so he would shut the f**k up.

Call me a hater, whatever.  I don’t give a s**t.  He has officially made himself into a worldwide f**king idiot.  I never gave a damn about Pacquiao before, but now I hope he (eventually) pounds this punk’s face in.  Humble pie tastes like s**t, Ugly Boy, and I would love to watch your ugly ass eat some. 

I’m real impressed by his diamond sunglasses.  Truly, he deserves every disgusting penny he spends.

In the video, he spews more garbage than Upset Tommy.  He’s obviously not creative at all, resorting to racial slurs and gay bashing.  That’s the kind of s**t talking complete dumbf**ks do. 

Thank you, Floyd Mayweather.  You gave me something to root for in boxing.  Any opponent you will ever have again.

You know what they say.  The first guy to call someone a ‘f****t’ is usually the guy sucking dick in the closet.  Is there something you’d like to tell us, Pretty Boy?

The 42 year old boxing legend wanted to see how well his skills translated to the world of MMA.  After one of the most underwhelming performances in UFC history, it was clear that the skills did not transfer very well at all.

Toney waddled to the ring at a doughy 236 pounds, and looked as if he carried the majority of it in his voluptuous he-breasts.  The former boxer sported a K-Mart logo on his XXXXL t-shirt, and his skill level in the octagon closely mimicked the quality of his sponsor.

Toney knew his only shot was to stand with Couture, and land a knock out blow.  Not only did he not land that blow… he didn’t even throw one.  Shortly after the opening bell, “The Natural” took the boxer to the ground, mounted and punished him for a few minutes before applying a choke that lead to the tap out.

Overall, the fight was an embarrassment.  James Toney doesn’t belong anywhere near a UFC ring and the only thing more laughable than his performance was the surprisingly over-the-top victory celebration by Couture.

Toney was booed mercilessly by the Bean Town crowd during a post fight interview.  While he may be anxious to hop back in the octagon and win over some haters, I would be shocked if UFC President Dana White lets Toney fight ever again.

Sorry James.  Lights out.

He’s being made out to be some kind of hero, and in some way he is doing what tons of us would love to do, but don’t have the fighting chops to pull it off.  In that way, I’m all for beating the s**t out of dudes that punch chicks.

But the end of the video shows the assf**kgirlbeater getting his head stomped on while he is entirely motionless, laying on the ground.  Hopefully that was not Huerta, because I call that going too far. 

It’s also a felony.

Now TMZ is reporting that Austin (TX) cops want to know who got their head kicked and who was the girl.  Ultimately, I would hope they are trying to charge the assf**kgirlbeater with assault, but I would also hope they try to determine who was gettin’ busy channeling their inner Derek Vinyard.

You can’t tell from the video, though.  It’s too grainy AND FUCKING VERTICAL.  The cameraman sucks.  Bad.  Cage Potato is not convinced it’s Huerta at all.

Huerta claims that he did not throw the first punch — insinuating self-defense.  Stomping on the head of a motionless guy on the ground is not self-defense.  And it’s not cool.

Unless you think killing people is cool.

The video is on TMZ.

MMA fighter Jonathan Harris does, and in this video he breaks the Legacy Fighting record for quickest KO. He knocked his opponent out in 5 seconds. One knee to the face is all it took.

Lights. Out.

For your viewing pleasure, we included videos of some of fastest knockouts in fighting history.

But with his crazy ass you just never know.

Tattoo-face opened up with Details Magazine and laid it all out.  Never known for mincing words (just completely f**king them all up), he blasted a load of journalistic goodness all over the page.

He opened up about becoming a vegan, his love for pigeons, his 4-year-old daughter’s death and his love for self-deprecation.

Nevertheless he is a quote machine.

Some highlights if I may:

Now I’m 44, and I realize that my whole life is just a f**king waste. “Greatest man on the planet”? I wasn’t half the man I thought I was.

I just feel dirty. These people want to hug me, they want to touch me, and I’m feeling like, “Get your f**king hands off me.” I feel that energy of theirs, and it’s just filth and murder.

And it’s so ironic: I arranged this lavish funeral, and the doctor bills were astronomical. It came to, what, $200,000 all told? And I don’t have a nickel to my name. It was all paid for by donations, and then I’m thinking, I’m not worthy of all that.

If you’re not humble, life will visit humbleness upon you.

Details: So you’re going to go the rest of your life without eating a candy bar?
Mike Tyson: Maybe so. I’m pretty f**king extreme.

I only know I’m not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be in prison for murder. I’m supposed to be dead by now, have AIDS or something.

I still got that fire in my heart, and it just burns, man. I don’t want to have any misconceptions here. I’m not a pacifist and never will be. I still get angry, and I still scream.

I think I was the most medicated boxer in the history of the sport. If I was going to medicate, I’d just smoke a joint. Nah, it’s trauma I’m dealing with. And it’s this f**king ego of mine.

They were all so vicious, man. Jake LaMotta, Henry Armstrong, Carmen Basilio. Sugar Ray—God, he was vicious. But Jack Dempsey more than anyone.

Discipline is doing what you hate to do, but nonetheless doing it like you love it.

I’m still that little boy; I just have to learn how to protect him a little better.

Details: So what were you thinking when you bit [Evander Holyfield]?
Mike Tyson: I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t training for that fight. I was on f**king drugs, thinking I was a god. I should’ve been home with my family, man. My kids.

I’m addicted to perfection. Problem with my life is I was always also addicted to chaos. Perfect chaos.

This is the freest I ever felt in my life. And I’m still not free. But it’s an awesome feeling. I got no money.

My wife’s lived with me in places I wouldn’t take a s**t in.

Details Magazine Mike Tyson Interview

Manny Pacquiao and Floyd Mayeather have agreed to terms to finally have the Fight of the Century according to boxing promoter Bob Arum. The megafight, which would be a 50/50 split between the two boxers, could be as anticipated of a boxing match we have seen since the days of Mike Tyson.

But of course, we have heard this story before.

Just last year these two were supposedly in the works to have one of the greatest boxing matches in history until neither side could agree on the type of drug testing that would take place. Some said that Pacquiao was afraid of getting busted for steroids (mostly from the Mayweather camp), while others thought that Mayweather was actually scared of losing his undefeated record against a more talented boxer than he has ever faced in Pacquiao. Either way, they both ended up looking like a couple of babies. Babies that would both kick the living s**t out of me, that is.

But even though the fight is still waiting to be finalized, Pacquiao’s camp has scheduled a fight for November 13. If Mayweather does not accept the offer, Pac-man will still take the time out of his political career to fight someone. Possibly Miguel Cotto.

Let’s just hope this time the fight does actually take place. As someone who has not been interested in boxing since the days of Mike Tyson’s Punch Out, it would be nice to see the Boxing world get its s**t back together.

Of course, he is enormous, so maybe that explains it. He  goes to a bar called Jugheads in Phoenix. They have a goth/industrial night called Sadisco*.

Here’s Sadisco’s MySpace page.

Our man takes on a guy in a dress. He writes all about it here. Pretty interesting story.  It’s funny because it really is just a homemade version of an MMA fight.  9 times out of 10 the dudes end up rolling around on the ground, trading headlocks.

Of course, this is not a new phenomenon.  The history of real life Fight Clubs is a long one.

Condom is the glass slipper of our generation. You slip one on when you meet a stranger. You dance all night… then you throw it away. The condom, I mean, not the stranger.

The video below was taken from that night. 

F**k damnation, man! F**k redemption! We are God’s unwanted children? So be it!

Whether it be Kendry Morales, Bill Gramatica, or any of these other f**ktards, you would think that eventually people would stop acting like idiots after a victory. But fortunately for us, this hasn’t yet happened.

After winning the most boring MMA fight in history, this douche decides to try what I hope is his first ever attempt at a celebratory backflip. Key word here is “attempt”.

It makes you wonder if this guy got a win and a loss for this fight?

Barstool Sports

Saturday night in Vancouver, British Columbia, The Iceman’s career may have been brought to an end by, ironically, a vicious counter punch courtesy of Rich Franklin at UFC 115.

Liddell came into the fight confident, claiming that he planned on knocking Rick Franklin out. Franklin, a former middleweight champion fighting in his first fight at 205 pounds, looked crisp, quick, and confident from the opening bell.

Liddell pushed the pace, and caught Franklin with a multitude of solid strikes, but Franklin kept his composure and waited for his opportunity. Liddell whipped a leg kick that Franklin blocked with his left arm. Franklin’s arm swelled up immediately, and we learned after the fight that the arm was broken.

With seconds left to go in the opening round, Liddell staggered his opponent with a series of blows and pushed Franklin into the cage. Liddell missed with a wild overhand right, and Franklin countered with a devastating right hook that landed right on the button, dropping The Iceman for what many believe to be the final time in his illustrious fighting career.

Light’s out. Franklin wins by first round knock out in his light heavyweight debut.

Since 2007, Chuck Liddell has one win in the UFC, a unanimous decision against Wanderlei Silva. Paired with that single win is 5 losses, 4 of which were by knock out.

While Liddell looked solid on Saturday night by pushing the pace and scoring well on the judges score card in the opening round, ultimately this fighter is not who he once was.

Liddell’s chin has become much more pedestrian, and susceptible to getting knocked out. His wild striking angles and counter punches are coming a second slower than they did before, and his knockout power just isn’t there anymore.

New-age MMA fans may have seen Chuck’s last few fights, and label him as no good. This could not be further from the truth.

Liddell’s record of 18-2 from January of 2000 until January of 2007 is unprecedented in the light heavyweight division. He was the face of the UFC, and brought in hoards of fans year in and year out.

What Chuck Liddell did for this sport was as paramount to it’s success as anyone outside of Dana White and the Zuffa company.

Though he has not looked it in his last few fights, Chuck Liddell should be viewed by the MMA community as one thing, and one thing alone.

An icon.

And this couldn’t be more true when it comes to the supposedly fake world of Professional Wrestling.

Below is a video of a fan, for some stupid ass reason, apparently trying to unmask the masked man in a Mexican Professional Wrestling match. The fan, who obviously thought that it wasn’t a big deal to f**k with someone while he is being kicked in the chest, takes a solid right to the mouth getting knocked back several feet.

The fan’s friend, I would assume,  tries to make a valiant effort to defend his buddy, but instead ends up looking like a bigger ass than the dude that gets jacked.

So if you are taking notes, here are a few things you should probably write down.

• Do not touch the head of a wrestler that is wearing a mask, he is probably wearing it for a reason.
• Never get less than 12 hours sleep.
• Never play cards with a guy who has the same first name as a city.
• And never get involved with a woman with a tattoo of a dagger on her body.

Now you stick to that, and everything else is cream cheese.

Whether your dog just chewed on a pair of your expensive dress shoes, pissed on your bed, or ate an entire Penn Station sub in less that 30 seconds, there are times when dogs deserve to learn a lesson.

MMA Fighter Kyacey Uscola has no problem going toe-to-toe with some wild ass dogs, especially since they have no problem throwing low blows – with their mouth.

Here is an interview explaining his horrific situation as told on TUF 11: The Aftermath.

Stephan Bonnar: So Kyacey, after you got off the show you had a pretty interesting fight, and this one was not with humans but rather with a pack of pit bulls. What happened?

Kyacey Uscola: I was walking up to the side of the (TUF) house, along the road, when these dogs sort of ran up on me and cornered me, and um I’m an idiot I didn’t run when I should’ve ran, I squared off with them and sliced my hand punching one in the teeth. Got chunks bitten out of my shoulder, hip, hamstring and the uh money one was that they bit through my urethra and uh I had to have a catheter for two weeks…

SB: The tooth actually pierced through your penis?

KU: Yeah, all the way through.

SB: It bit a hole in it?

KU: Yeah.

SB: Holy s**t.

SB: At any point did you try choking the dog out? Or did you just throw strikes?

KU: I didn’t want to get on the ground with them, it was all sprawl and brawl man.

SB: So not too different from how you fight then…

KU: Not too much.

KU: The hooks I threw were from the hip, everything was no technique, soccer kicks. (gestures wildly)

SB: That was a month ago, how’s the recovery? Able to train again?

KU: Getting there, somewhat 10 days ago I got into it.

SB: How about you and the wife?

KU: Just easing in to things.

SB: Maybe start with some blumpkins.

Bloody Elbow