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Sunday, September 18, 2005
Taneo: The big boys
By Paul J. Taneo
Free-for-all
Seeing CroCop on TV or video, nobody would say he’s Tom Thumb. Not even Shaquille O’Neal. At 6-foot-2, 213 pounds, Mirko Filipovic is one big slab of MMA meat.
A tried-and-tested kickboxer, CroCop is a former I.K.B.F. World heavyweight full-contact champion, K-1 Grand Prix ’99 finalist and K-1 World Grand Prix 2000 finalist. CroCop has been sowing terror in the ring for years with KO wins. With a 40-5 amateur boxing win-loss record and 12-5 in pro boxing, CroCop didn’t have too many mountains left to climb in the kickboxing Sierra Madre. So he crossed over to mixed martial arts.
His first venture into MMA was a 40-second victory over Kazuyuki Fujita, whose forehead got sliced with a knee. In Pride 20, he earned a draw against Wanderlei Silva in a macho standoff. Still struggling with the intricacies of the sport, where he had to contend with takedowns, sprawls and submissions that didn’t have their place in the standup world of kickboxing, the draw was good.
Silva, as he would, mocked Filipovic: “CroCop is not as tough as he thinks he is.” Well, CroCop could say the same after Ricardo Arona decisioned Silva last month or with Vitor Belfort’s rapid-fire destruction of Silva in UFC Brazil – Ultimate Brazil.
If a fighter is only as good as his last fight, Silva is yesterday’s news. But he is not. So is CroCop. With a decision loss to Pride heavyweight king Fedor Emelianenko, CroCop is still in search of a title in MMA.
Emelianenko, on the other hand, now looks like the right hand of God. With the Pride heavyweight belt secure around his flabby waist, he is the king. Thanks to anvils for fists, grappling skills he probably learned from reticulated pythons and killer eyes sunk in a face as blank as a tabula rasa.
Emelianenko broke the myth that Antonio Rodrigo “Minotauro” Nogueira was unbeatable. Fedor shattered that false belief…twice.
If raw talent is the sole basis for excellence, Fedor is excellence times three. Naturally strong, cool headed and a training addict, Fedor is possibly the only fighter (MMA, kickboxing, wrestling, western boxing, regardless) who doesn’t prepare in a particular manner suited to a prospective opponent’s style and in a gym as Spartan as an ascetic’s cave.
Fedor claims that he adjusts his fighting only in the ring without the benefit of pre-battle video analysis of his foe. He trains, gets in the ring, fights, wins. Simple as that. But it’s not.
Fedor is a complex being who talks in a soft growl. Imagine a bear softly snarling as it is about to rush a prospective victim.
Being the Pride champion is a real badge of honor, heavier than a wimpy civic or literary award given by your fellow wimps (being judged by your peers should only apply in a court of law and only in the US). The Pride heavyweight ranks are more exciting now than in pro boxing, where the best are of not much quality – fighting-wise and personality-wise.
The real action and the big money are in the lower weights. Although MMA prize money is peanuts compared to pro boxing, nowadays, educated MMA fans have more fun than boxing aficionados in the heavyweight division, considering the quality of fighters and the unpredictability of match results in mixed martial arts.
Take Nogueira’s case. In 2001, the Brazilian burst into the Pride scene with a technically-excellent performance against Gary Goodrige, triangle choking the big black banger, forcing him to tap out.
Minotauro followed that up with a triangle/armbar on Mark Coleman, turning The Hammer into putty. Heath Herring, Enson Inoue and Sanae Kikuta fell in quick succession. Others also lost to Minotauro. He seemed invincible. Then he met a man named Fedor. Then he lost to Fedor. Two times at that.
Probably, Minotauro’s loudest win was a patiently methodical armbar win over circus-attraction Bob Sapp. Substantially outweighed and outpowered by Sapp, Minotauro took all of Sapp’s rock blows, endured the battering before getting the pleasure of seeing and hearing Sapp wincing in pain and saying you got me, boy, you really got me. Fedor, in turn, made Minotauro a mortal.
To include the UFC top heavyweights in the list wouldn’t be right. None of them would stand to either CroCop, Fedor or Minotauro.
Of the three, we would have to say that Fedor is rightfully the champ, the king, the emperor, until somebody proves otherwise.
(paulotaneo@yahoo.com)
(September 18, 2005 issue)
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