The first pro football game I ever went to was the New England Patriots vs the New York Jets. Nowadays a classic rivalry, but back then they were just two tweets to me. The hometown team and the other guys.  The Patriots ended up beating the Jets 56-3, which, in any sport, would be a huge margin. On this day, it was a literal embarrassment for the Jets. But it was a complete thrill for a 6 year old kid at his first ever big time sporting event, and it kicked off a lifelong obsession with events for me.

Since then, Ive pretty much never passed up an offer to go to a major event, sporting or otherwise. But in those early years, there weren’t a lot of chances.  Not as many as there would come to be, anyways, and not as many as I would have liked in that time. But, more than most kids had, probably.

My dad was big into sports and would take me to one game a year, by each of our local Boston teams. The New England Patriots for football, the Boston Celtics for basketball and the Boston Red Sox for baseball. He never took me to a Boston Bruins game. My dad didn’t like hockey. He didn’t even care about it, really. Not sure why. He always just shrugged it off. So I never got the chance to go to a game. Or play, for that matter. But I remember sitting in our family room, watching the Bruins play on. WSBK – Channel 38. Back then Hockey was wi=ld. These crazy characters would crash into each other with violent hits, and fire a hard ribber disk at speeds over 100 MPH with long wooden sticks. Sometimes they would hit each other with those sticks. Or the puck. Or their huge bodies. But sometimes, when you were lucky, which was usually at least once a game, if n to more, they would hit each other with their fists. 

Watching a hockey fight break out was insane. The guys would just throw their gloves down on the ice and start a boxing match. On ice. With sharp as fuck knives attached to their feet. And the rest of the player, AS WELL AS THE REFEREES, would just stand around them in a. Circle and wait for one guy to knock the other one down to the ice. That would, usually, signal the end of the fight, and both guys would stop. Not always, but usually. Sometimes there would be so much animosity built up that these monster would keep on fighting. Those times were my favorite. Looking back now, it’s not hard to see why I loved hockey so much. Or why it’s gone on to become my favorite sport to go see live.

Just a few months after that Patriots vs Jets game, the Boston bruins travelled to Madison Square Garden to take on the New York Rangers, and the greatest fights of all time broke out. Taking things way beyond your average hockey fight, the Boston Bruins actually went up into the stands and beat the hell out of a bunch of Rangers fans at the Garden. Defenseman Mike Millbury even beat one fans with the poor guy’s OWN SHOE!

I’m dead serious. See for yourself!!

That’s the kind of things DREAMS are made of. Especially for impressionable 6 year old boys. Im not sure how may folks hid that one from me as a kid, butI didn’t find out about it until many many years later. I guess at 6pm I wasn’t staying up to watch the local news at 11pm, or reading the sports pages. Which is a bummer, because I wish I had been. I would have Demanded that my dad buy season tickets to the Bruins that very next day. Not that my demands as a kid held any weight. Hell, it wasn’t unity I was working  different jobs in high school that I finally had the money and wherewithal to buy myself Bruins trip kets and go to a game. With a sweet young thing who worked at the local burger king. Man, those were a memorable bunch of dates. But I digress…

Of the teams I did get to go see live in my youth. Only was a real winner. Sure, the Patriots made it to the Super Bowl in 1986, which was the end of the 1985 season. But they got thrashed 46-10 by the Chicago Bears, and it would be a whole until they got good again. And then there were the Red Sox, which we willet into tomorrow.

But the Celtics. Man the Boston Celtics. One fo the best all time teams in the NBA. Going back to the 1950’s where they had an incredible run of 8 straight NBA titles from 1959-1966. But that team they had in the 80s was an absolute pleasure to be able to watch on TV, and then in person once a year. The core of Larry Bird, Kevin McHale, Robert Parrish, Dennis Jonson and Danny Ainge, and later Bill Walton, was literally incedible. Larry Bird was easily the nest white guy to ever play in the NBA, and was knows as “the Hick From French Lick” He veritably wasn’t blessed with a lot of natural athletic ability. But he made up for it ion sheer grit, determination, and hard work. Watching him made you feel like anything was possible. And his teammates were a bunch of the same. Especially when compared to the glitzy and sinewy specimens that made up the Los Angeles Lakers of the 80s. The SHOWTIME team as they were known. They were everything the Celtics weren’t. Cool, good looking, prone to fast and flashy fats breaks. And physically and skillfully dominant. Their start was Earvin “MAGIC” johnson. With a million megawatt smile. It was like he was made to play in Hollywood. And he led his hard charging Lakers against the “Hick From French Lick” and his Celtics. It was like a real life version of the Harlem Globetrotters vs the Washington Generals, but int his version the Generals sometimes won.

Thought the 80s, both teams were dominant in their divisions. And they ended up in the finals three times. With the Lakers besting the Celtics twice.  Thought the Celtics still managed to win 3 NBA titles in the 80s. 

Going back now and watching those Larry Bird highlights, those plays seem even more amazing to me now than they did back then. Im so lucky to have got to witnessed them, and they have gone on to keep being a com petite team, even winning a title in 2008. Nowadays though, they do it with pretty much zero white fellers. But thats pretty much the way the entire NBA goes now.

The Patriots have of course, gone on to be one of the most impressive dynasties in the history of the NFL. And are the only Boston team I still identify with, because they kept putting out decent albums. The Red Sox, on the other hand. That’s a whole other ball of wax, which we will get into tomorrow….

Sports are so weird. People get so worked up about them. And I don’t fully understand it. Even though I participate. To a degree.

There were two huge games today for the NFL. Both had a lot of penalties. The officials seemingly stole the NFC championship game from New Orleans by filling to make a pass interference call. Pass interference is a tough call to make, because early in the game officials seem to not let any transgression go, whereas late in the game they tend to let more stuff go.  But this was just EGREGIOUS. The LA Rams player full on tackled the Saints player while the ball was in the air.And it wasn’t called. Im surprised DJ  didn’t come on screen and say “The NFL doesn’t care about New Orleans” like he did in 2003 during the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.

Int he second game the New England Patriots bested the Kansas City Chiefs in an all time classic that went to overtime. So much has been made of the referees playing favorites with the Pats, but they had a bunch of calls go against them as well. In the end, In have to ask, who really cares… and why?  It’s a game, right? But it’s a game tied to your CITY, so all of a sudden people get so tribal. People who seem to have very little civic pride in much of anything tend to get all worked about about sports. When, in reality, you aren’t even rooting for a city. You just happen to be rooting for the same laundry that most of the rest of the people in your city root for. Really, you’re rooting for a rag tag bunch of mercenaries, who are only playing on the team that’s based in your city because your city’s billionaire is paying them more than any of the other city’s billionaires.

People don’t seem to get that. Sports was a business. You’re rooting for a god damned corporation, with a billionaire CEO. Long gone is the era of sports teams being staffed by people from that city. Sure, back then, I get it. The bears were amazing because Chicago was a rough guy city. You had to be tough to endure those long winters. And it felt great when the big grown beef fed midwestern came to town and beat the mamba pamby New England chowderheads. 

But now? Everyone on the Bears might be on the Patriots next year. Or might hav e already been on the patriots. Hell, even the tram owners don’t have any loyalty to their cities. Many teams aren’t owned by natives of that city, and so many owners threaten to move their teams if they don’t get some crazy new stadium which will be funded by taxpayer money. Which is almost never a good thing, as ALL the research shows.  Stadiums never throw off the tax money and jobs they claim to, and certainly never revitalize neighborhoods. Most everyone drives into the stadium on game day with the cars full of all the goods they need, and then disappear after the game, turning the area into a veritable ghost town on the 358 days a year that nobody is playing football there. The most economic benefit most people who live nearby can hope for is to charge people $10 to park on their lawn on game day.  Whooooooo!

Where else is this blind loyalty shown? Nowhere that I can think of. Especially in entertainment, which is what sorts really is. Think about it… People will continue to love a sports team FOREVER, regardless of if they win or lose. And actually, when a team is a perennial loser is when a lot of fans double down and love them even more. Look at teams like the Cleveland Browns, the NY Knicks, NY Jets, NY Mets, the Buffalo Bills etc… Teams who haven’t been competitive in eons, and have abysmal track records of getting things done in the big championship games. The fans of those teams wear it as a badge of honor. They profess their love for their teams specifically BECAUSE they never win. Like their suffering makes them martyrs of some sort. Imagine doing that with music. Sure I LOVED Bon Jovi for a long time. But then they started making crappy records, starting in the late 2000’s at which point I continued to love going to see them live. Even though they started putting on pretty much he same show year after year. Very little variation on the set-lists and even a lot of the same banter. It began to grow tired. And they they started introducing VIP meet and great packages for as much as $5,000. And it dawned on me that maybe by this point, they were only in it for the money. And then Jon fired Richie. And that was the start that broke this camel’s back.  I haven’t been to a Bon Jovi show since, and Im not sure I ever will. Unless maybe they hire Richie back, but even then, I’ll know Im not seeing the real Bon Jovi, I would equate that to going to see an Old Timer’s Game at Yankee stadium.

Thats a totally typical scenario in rock n roll. Band are. Putting out great records, and you love them and you go see them live. They stop with the great records and you still go see them. Until one day, you realize they are no longer relevant so you stop going to see them altogether. Or maybe you keep going to see them for nostalgia purposes. At least as long as there are some original members in there.

Winning games, and being competitive in a your league, is the sports equivalent to putting out good albums. Once a team hits a hard losing skid, why do people continue to support them? Nostalgia? I can get with that. But what about when there aren’t any players left from the good era. Then it’s really an entirely new team. Why get excited about that? You’re just rooting for laundry. And filling the pockets of a billionaire who doesn’t care about you.

Sort of reminds me of religion. Something you back because your parents told you to.

So weird.

Rodney didn’t like sports. Or religion. But he did support a lot of rock n roll bands long after they stopped having hits. So Im not sure this was a good example. But I loved him every day, no matter what. Like so many other people love their sports teams. I guess we are all a bunch of weridos.

Once again I was shown the incredible power of a well done night of independent wrestling. I love long told anyone who asks that the best pro wrestling matches are never seen on television. They are done in church basements, VFW halls, run down nightclubs and bingo halls. Last night I got my first taste of Pro Wrestling Guerilla – or PWG. They have been going since 2004 in Los Angeles and have stumbled upon a wildly winning formula. They charge high ticket prices, and book nothing but quality talent, and don’t overload the card with a ton of matches.

A lot of wrestling promotions try and keep prices low, and because of that they can only book a couple of “names” per show and rely on local wrestlers, and often too frequently, the trainees from their associated wrestling schools, to fill out the bill. While I appreciate the need to develop your homegrown talent, and totally respect it when promotions do, there something special about an indie wrestling “supercard” in a small venue and that’s PWGs Raison d’Etre. I’ve spent thousands upon thousands of dollars on pro wrestling matches over the years. I wouldn’t be surprised if the actual number is over ten thousand dollars, especially if you count merch purchased at said events. You could say I’ve seen it all, and that wouldn’t be much of an exaggeration. Especially when it comes to the widely varying quality of matches. I’ve paid to see complete Jabronis who were obviously having their first ever matches, right on through to some of the best wrestlers in the world plying their trade in front of just a couple

Hundred of us. And the list of big stars Ive seen in tiny places while they are on their way up is a mile long. Almost as long is the list of legends I’ve seen sadly embarrassing themselves deep down on the lowest rungs of the ladder that’s also known as “the way down.” Thankfully that happens less and leas often nowadays as there a. Seems

To be a better support network from wrestlers on the downside of their career and b. A lot of the ex-legends who had serious problems are no longer with us. Sad but true.

But when you get a top quality night of independent wrestling, there’s really nothing quite like it. And there are a few elements that need to come

Together to make it a truly special night. You need great wrestlers. You need a decent building. It doesn’t need to be beautiful, it just needs to have “vibe” and of course you need a hot crowd,!

But beyond that, you need a great booker. A booker is the guy behind the scenes that puts the matches together.  Beyond just hiring the wrestlers, the booker is responsible

For coming up with the matchups, and much more importantly helps lay out the match. The booker will come up with the backstory aka the storyline of the match and in an ongoing sense, the league, and also dictate, to a degree, the pacing and outcome of the match. The booker will lay out how they want the match to go, how long it should be, and typically a fair amount of the moves you see on n the ring. At least for the big moments of the matches. And then they send the rassslers out to the ring to execute. If this were a typical professional sport, the booker would be the GM, the head coach, the marketing department and the team captain all rolled into one. Sometimes the booker is one of the wrestlers. That historically doesn’t end well. They usually can’t resist the temptation to put themselves into the main event role, usually to the detriment of the show in general. For a while Dusty Rhodes was the exception to this rule. Until he wasnt. Today that transgressions is evident anytime Triple H steps into the ring. But, I digress…

When done well, the booker’s role isn’t even noticed, and he makes the shows transcendent. The best booker comes up with storylines that work on a long arc that unfolds slowly week after week, like an episodic television show (think Breaking Bad) while also making things easily digestible for someone who is just tuning in to that one episode, or showing up for that one event. And that’s truly an art.

But the most important thing a great booker can do is to emphasize.e the strengths and hide the weaknesses of his talent roster. The best guy to ever do that in the wrestling business was Paul Heyman when he was at the helm of the original ECW. He took a rag tag bunch of wrestlers and turned them into veritable superstars. At the same

Time he created some of the most intense houses on wrestling history. The ECW Arena in Philly and the Mad House of Extreme in Queens (a bingo hall and an Elks Lodge respectively)  were two places where I legitimately feared for my life on more than one occasion. Even though I knew it was “fake” shows there legitimately made me suspend my disbelief, which means they completely succeeded. 

I don’t know who the booker is at PWG but he’s a total G. There were a total of seven matches last night and every one of them was spectacular. The night opened with a classic David be Goliath Story of a match between the huge tattooed monster Brody King and the tiny and skinny youngster Jungle Boy. It should have been a squash match, where the huge guy wins easily.  But it was booked and presented don such a way that you never counted Jungle Boy out, and even when he lost, he looked good in defeat. It was his first appearance in PWG and because he was brilliantly booked, it didn’t matter that he lost. He still got a “Please Come Back” chant from the entire crowd after his match. And thats about as high a compliment you can get from a fired up crowd full of smart marks, the term for us nerds who spend waaaayyy too much time thinking about and reading about pro wrestling. And if you’ve read this far, you’re well on your way to becoming a smart mark already.

Rodney on the other hand, was just a mark. It was all still real to him, dammit. And that’s why I loved going to matches with him so much. He made me and everyone around him feel like it was real. God I miss him. #RodSpeed

More UFC musings… continued – once again…

Silva had often times looked bored in his fights and had taken to mocking opponents. Laying down in the ring, standing in front of opponents, with his hands down, daring them to hit him… Leaning against the cage, with nowhere to top and inviting opponents in to hit him, and had always made his victories look exceedingly easy. Thjis was a supernatural fighter who had seemingly run out of challenges. He had cleaned out his division, multiple times, and done so with a level of dominance heretofore unseen in MMA.  But this fight was different… HE was getting beaten, badly, and seemed to have no answers for Sonnen’s take down and ground and pounds. Until, with about two minutes left in the fight, when he got a spark of energy. And decided to fight back. He started scrambling form the b bottom, and using his hips to start to push Sonnen of of him. And then, with about a minute left in the fight, he threw up his legs, wrapped them around Sonnens head, caught him in a triangle choke form the bottom, pulled down on Sonnen’s head, and forced him to tap out. This was incredible.  After the fight, he said that he had just been toying with Sonnen and wanted to teach him a lesson.

Silva had gotten his black belt form the Nogueira brothers, themselves a pair of dominant twins from Brazil, and Sonnen had commented int eh lead up to the fight that getting your. Black belt from the Nogueira bothers was like getting a black belt from a cracker jack box. A lot of folks didn;didn’t believe Silva, and thought he was just making excuses… And because Sonnen had done so much better than anyone else to have ever faced silva, the UFC booked a rematch to take place on one of their biggest cards of the year, the annual 4th of July weekend card.

So, not wanting to miss out on what was sure to a historic match, me and my buddy Jordan booked flight to Vegas and scored tickets for the fight.  We also rented d acopiuple of m totrcyles and decided too make a 4 night trek throught the Southwest that would lead us right up to the fight.  We picked up the bikes on July 3rd and headed out on an epic loop that took us from Vegas into Utah, down through Arizona, to the grand canyon, Leake Meade, the Hoover Damn and then back into Vegas just in time for the fights.  The ride was all sorts of ridiculous… We found a Mormon Rodeo in Utah, and also in Utah we rode so high into a mountain that we got trapped in a hail storm in 40 degree weather, which was scarily dangerous because we hadnt packed any cold weather clothes, and our only real option was to try and get over mountain and back down in elevation where it would be warm again. How we didn’t end up with hypothermia, Ill never know. We ended up staying in a fresh ass hotel in the north rim of the canyon, getting pulled over for speeding tickets, and Jordan even survived a very low speed crash ta t the Hoover Damn that was basic ally caused by heat exhaustion.

When we finally made it back to Vegas, we were seriously wiped out, but didn’t waiver in our resolve to make the fight. We had booked rooms at the MGM Grand, the same hotel where the fights were happening, so had just enough time to get into the rooms and shower before it was time to place some bets and then head to the Grand Garden Arena.

This was my first time being in Vegas for a big fight night, and it was amazing to actually be going to the fights. The atmosphere was absolutely electric throughout the casino and especially in the arena. The undercard fights were mostly thrilling, but everyone was really there for the main event.

Ill never forget the excitement we both felt when BB ounce Buffer uttered his famous main event phrase – IT TIIIIIIMMMMMME! Sonnen almost got booed out of the building and when Silv a was announced the place almost exploded.  As soon as the first round started Sonnen. Took Silva diowbn to open the first frame, and kept him on the ground almost the entirety of the first round, grounding and pounding him. HOLY SHIT! It was almost an exact carbon copy of the first fight. MAYBE THIS HADNT BEEN AN ACCIDENT AT ALL!  The judges scored it 10-8 because Sonnen was so dominant. A hiush fell across the arena, as we all thought that maybe our had finally found his crpytonite in the Bad Bad from west Lin Oregon!

But then when the 2nd round started, Silva came out with a bang and started unloading on Sonnen. He landed a few punch, had Sonnen in deep trouble, when Sonnen tried something very uncharachteristic, obviously out of sheer desperation. He attempted a spinning back fist, which Silva ducked and his momentum carried him away and onto the mat, and as he tried to stand up, Silva delivered a VICIOUS flying knee to the center of his chest and followed up with a flurry of punches that left him unconscious.  The champ was back, and in a defiant away. Was it all just another elaborate ruse, or had sonnet really had him in trouble. Only Silva really knows, and probably only he will ever know. 

Before the flight had started I had said that if Silva won via knockout I was gonna get a tattoo of a Spider, in honor of his nickname. So after the fight we went to the tattoo shop at the Hard Rock Hotel, and I got a tattoo of a Spider, and on the body of the Spider, I put the Brazilian flag, to honor Silva’ homeland.  Its one of the many “postcard” tattoos I have, that mark a special occasion, or trip in my life

continued from yesterday…

The Diaz fights proved a lot about McGregor. That he could lose, and suffer defeat with humility. He didn’t make excuses. He said Diaz was the greater man and congratulated him on his victory, said he needed to go back and work ons on holes in his game, and that’s exactly what he did. But more importantly, he took the fight in the first place. He was supposed to fight Raphael Dos Anos, and he fell out with an injury a week before the fight. Conor agreed to face Diaz, a hugely dangerous opponent, on very little notice, when most fighters would have just opted to sit it out and wait for their original opponent to heal and come back. But Conor knew that literally thousands off Irish had booked flights and hotels for Vegas to come and see him fight, and he refused to let them down. That’s what areal mahfukken G does.

Conor came back and fought Diaz in their rematch and beat him in a vicious five round fight,. Both men were badly beaten and battered, and Conor suffered some incredibly hard shots, but never gave up. He showed the true spirit of a champion in the match, and we will very likely see a rubber match between the two. But that erased any doubts most people had about his ability to fight, and preserver in tough conditions. He hung in there and geeked out a victory and was moderately gracious in that victory.

His next fight came against Eddie Alvarez, the lightweight champion, and it was to make history in so many ways. It was the first ever UFC card in NYC, at the world’s most famous area, MSG, and if Conor won he was going to become the first ever guy to be the simultaneous champion in 2 different weight classes. For this fight Conor was in tip top promo shape. He came to the press conference wearing a white fur coat… he swiped Alvarez’s belt off the table of the press conference (a truck he debuted against Jose Aldo), during the open workouts at MSG he grabbed a basketball off of the court and nailed a shot from the top of the key… he was on fire!  And he once again had a nation backing him. Buy this point, every fight must feel like a hometown fight for Conor, as literally thousands of Irish make the trip from his motherland, and thousands more Irish Americans flood the areas for his fights. NYC was no exception.  I’ve been to so many UFC fights… Ive been in Newark and the Meadowlands multiple times, and flown to Vegas twice just for big fights, and also been to the O2 in London.

I’d seen some incredible moments inside the Octogaon. I watched Shane Carwin dismantle Frank Mir with a vicious body shot that I could her from my middle section seats. I saw Georges St Pirre almost break Matt Whatever’s arm. I saw Jon Jones become the youngest cha[ion in UFC history by delivering. Aviocous knockout to Shogun Hua, and oddly it happened on the same day he also chased down and subdued a purse snatcher who interrupted his meditation session that afternoon in a Newark Park. I Saw Jones defeat Chael Sonnen with a big toe that was so badly broken that the bones was sticking out of the skin. I saw Anderson Silva think he had knocked out Michael Bisping in London and he jumped up onto the top of the cage to celebreat, only to be told it was simply the end of the round. He went on to lose that fight and the venue I was running in London even hosted the afterparty. I saw Renean Barao loste his first ever fight and have his 20 fight winning streak stopped by TJ Dilashw in Vegans and watched Daniel Cormier destroy former olympian Dan Henderson not he same card.  When it comes to non-UFC MMA cards, Ive only been to two different ones, but both of them had monumental moments. I was at the El its XC card where James Thompson had his absolutely engorged cauliflower ear busted open, spraying blood all over the cage. And minutes later saw the upset of the century, when last minute repalcemen, no-name Seth Petruzelli knocked out Kimbo Slice, the street fighting legend that Elite XC bet their entire company on.  That was the last ever Eliute XC event.

But the granddaddy of them all was when I went to the rematch of Anderson Silva and Chael Sonnen. In Las Vegas. Anderson was the most dominant champion in UFC history. He exploded on the scene in a way nobody ever had, recording flashy knockout after flashy knockout and nobody had any sort of an answer for him. HE destroyed Chirs Leben, the man with the iron chin who had never been knocked out. And then obliterated Middleweight Champion Rich Franklin in back to back fights.  He went up a weight class and made James Irvin look silly by literally catching his kick with his left and and knocking him out with a single right hand punch to the face. In his fight against former champion Forrest Griffin he stood flat-footed in front of Forrest with his hands down, taunting him and dodged his punches by ducking and weaving like he was a character in the Matrix, and the would pop out a couple of jabs that stunned and then knocked out Griffin.  The fight was called off when Griffin fell flat on his back and waved off any more punishment like a kid who had just been wiped out by a bully. When he finally made it back to his feet he quickly exited the cage and SPRINTED out of the area, something that had never before been done in a UFC fight.

Anderson silva had fought Chael Sonnen previously and Sonnen took him down and mauled him with wrestling and ground and pound for 4.5 rounds. Silva looked like he had zero answers. 

to be continued tomorrow… again… My UFC serialiZation. Not sure anyone is gonna find this interesting, but Ive been sick this week and struggling to find things to be motivated write about… I dont wanna blow any of my “good” ideas while Im not feeling well… so sometimes this is what you’re gonna get if Im gonna be doing this every single day.

I love the UFC. I guess it was a natural transition from Pro Wrestling. But for some reason it lacks a plethora of larger than life charachters. But it’s got Conor MacGregor. I’m not quite sure exactly when I became aware on Conor McGregor, but as soon as I was, I became an immediate fan. IT was sometime around 2013, as he was prepping for his about against Max Holoway. I remember this brash irishman had a steely sort of confidence, that had yet to become brash, but he definitely had a look in his eye that said “I ain’t here to be fucked with.” That fight was in Boston , pretty much h the Irish capital of the US, and his fans were abundant and vocal, and it became obvious during his walkout there that he was going to be a big time fan favorite. He beat Holloway in that fight and then it was revealed that he tore his ACL during the fight. And kept going. Damn, man, that’s some real toughness. He took almost a year off, during which time he got a wild tattoo of a gorilla wearing a crown on his chest and throat, and then came back, against Diego Brandao, and took place in front off a sold out crowd of 10,000 at the O2 arena in Dublin. A crowd of ROWDY Irishmen. Seeing that on TV it became obvious this wasn’t just any fighter. The combination of the intense crowd backing him, and the fire and confidence he came out with, especially coming off an injury, made it quite obvious that this guy was the real deal.  He knocked out Brandao in the fist round and with that delivered an incredible statement to the UFC. He even won the knockout of the night bonus. After that he started posting pics of him with Loprenzo Fertitta on private planes, saying he was negotiating a n ew contract, and from then on it was quite obvious that he was on a rocket ship to stardom.

The next fight was his first against a top 10 ranked opponent, Dustin Poirier, so was fo course looked at as a huge test.  This was was hugely promoted as the co-main event to the first right between Jon Jones and Daniel Cormier, and McGregor really raised the staked in the promo for this one , delivering some amazing lines at the press conference. And just unbridled cockiness, but dispensed with enough calm to make you believe that hHE believed it!  He backed it all up too, dleivxeing a stunning knockout just a minute into the fight, once again winning the knockout of the night bonus.  All hell broke loose at that one after the fight, with the arena going bananas, and it was quite obvious that we were dealing with a very unique talent.  Not only did he say he was gonna knock him out in the first round, and DID knock him out in the first round, but he also repeatedly taunted him inside the octgaon, during the fight saying” What you got, pussy?” Man thats GOT to be unnerving, especially when you’re losing the fight.

In the post fight interview with Joe Rogan, he delivered the now infamous line, “I said I was gonna knock him out in the first round, and I did, so you can call me Mystic Mac because I can predict this shit!”

So what is it though about Conor then? I mean, really, it’s all of it.  It first an d foremost it’s the ability to fight and tk wile the octagon with his opponents. And the. He combines that with the brash confidence and the pro wrestling level of trash talk. When hyping a fight he mixes the beat of Ali and Ric Flair. He’s a street kid but has a taste for flashy suits, gold watches and fast fast cars. Dusty Rhodes used to live to say he was the son of a plumber. Conor actually WAS a plumber, and supported himself with that when he first started fighting. And one of his lost important qualities is that’s he’s also a family man.he looks after his parents, and appears to be a fantastic father and provider for his longtime girlfriend Dee.

And then when it comes to the fighting, he’s predicted the outcomes of so many of his fights, and then backed them up.

For his fight against Jose Aldo he kept sayng he was gonna knock him out in the first round. Also had not only never been knocked out, he was the most dominant and durable champ in the history of the lightweight division, and had never even been in serious trouble in a fight, much less been knocked down, or out. But then the fight started, and Aldo ran in on Mac, likely fired up and wnating to attack because his head had been gotten into, and then Conor knocked his fool ass out in 13 seconds. Mystic Mac indeed!

In his fight against Chad Mendes, a last minute replacement opponent whose specialty of wrestling was tailor made to swat McGregor, Conor offers tk bet Dana White a million bucks he would knock him out i the 2nd round. For the first two rounds Mendes took Conor down and controlled and pounded him on the ground. With about a minute left in the second round, Conor somehow managed to get to his feet and then caught Mendes with a flush left had and followed it up with half a dozen more and knocked him out cd. It was, almost literally, unbelievable.  He’s been wildly dominant, yet as actually lost a fight. To Nate Diaz, one of the most underrated fighters in MMA. Conor took him as a last minute replacement as well… Something Conor does with great gusto, but most fighters refuse…and because of that it only grows his legend… Conor will literally fight ANYONE, ANYTIME, ANYWHERE. And when it bites him int he ass…? He was super respectful, and gave Diaz props… the total opposite of how he usually treats opponents when he loses… and THEN he accepted a rematch…. immediately… and came back and WON!

To be continued….