I spent two weeks in Denver, Colorado earlier this year. It was a lovely town. I had some fun at the ballpark, checked out the spectacular mountain vistas, even hit the slopes. I'd recommend it to anyone - anyone under 230 pounds. After UFC 135, I suggest the big boys stay away. Far away.
Jon Jones amazed last night. Josh Koscheck may have finished the career of the legendary Matt Hughes. The younger Diaz brother taught Takanori Gomi that leading with your head is a bad idea no matter how many times Rocky Balboa does it in the movies. Only the heavyweights failed to deliver. Unless by deliver you mean sucked in heaving breath after heaving breath.
Last night's UFC 135 featured two heavyweight slobber knockers. At least that was the intent. It's rare to see UFC matchmaker Joe Silva book two showcase fights; he prefers matchups that are even even with legitimate doubt to the outcome. Insiders knew that wasn't the case here. Prospect Travis Browne was supposed to obliterate the jiggly overweight Brit Rob Broughton. Ben Rothwell, in his first bout back after an ACL injury, was supposed to steamroll kickboxer Mark Hunt and finish him easily on the ground. Instead, fatigue was the ultimate equalizer in both cases.
Browne and Broughton just did not look up to par. It was Hunt and Rothwell who took it to new levels. By the third round of their fifteen minute fight, neither man could move. Rothwell looked like he was being inflated by bellows, heaving for breaths, looking dangerously like a man who might just pass out at any minute.
Unfortunately Hunt, a fighter who is so short and thick he's nearly perfectly squared, had little more to offer. Despite an obvious advantage standing, the former K-1 champion was looking for the takedown in the third round. Not because he thought it would give him the best chance to win the fight - but because it would give him some precious moments to catch his breath.
It was that kind of night for the heavyweights.