Ode to the Journeyman

Mr Brendan Rowe's:

Ode to the Journeyman

The nature of the elite maintains that only a very small percentage of men and women will inhabit the upper echelon. This fact holds true for everyday life as well as sports; in combat sports, it is also a painfully obvious fact. Most boxing-related casualties stem from six-round slug-fests between two journeymen. Journeymen, of course, make up the gristle of competitors in MMA. They are the men we never talk about unless they, through hard work, determination, and luck, beat all odds and amaze us with a reckless display of ability. They tend to win against long odds in such spectacular fashion it almost seems like a rigged match. Why else couldn't they have won sooner and saved themselves from the medical bills? Is it talent or sheer dumb luck? Why don't they break off into the levels of elitism themselves? Why do I keep asking rhetorical questions?

MMA needs its journeymen just as much as society needs its heavy laborers and grocery baggers. Journeymen may find fame eluding them, but they gain note through the rare times that they actually beat somebody. Some journeymen are only mentioned and remembered because they provided that one embarrassing loss on another fighter's spotless record. In this court, journeyman is king.

Randy Couture is lord and master of the journeymen. I expect that many of you, upon reading this, are asking exactly what the hell I'm talking about, but just think about his record. Couture is a mixed bag of wins and losses who is remembered for coming out against long odds and standing his ground against men who are supposed to roll right over him. It isn't his talent that wins him fights and has made him a five-time champion; it’s the grit and determination of a journeyman. Couture, like most journeymen, is consistently at a disadvantage against his opponents (on paper), but always finds a way to win, if not be embarrassed. An opponent of The Natural, Gabriel Gonzaga, is only remembered for his head kick knock-out of Mirko Cro Cop and the ensuing title shot. He has no large fan base or claim to fame otherwise, and falls under the opposite spectrum of the journeyman: the one-shot.

The one-shot journeyman tends to fight his heart out one his way to a title shot, in which he is inevitably and inexplicably defeated. Nearly everybody that Anderson Silva has fought in recent history is one-shot journeyman. Of the last four title defenses, two men are no longer in the UFC (Thales Leites and Patrick Cote), one is fighting one of the Ultimate Fighter winners that we don't care about, and the other is mistaken for some Hispanic guy. However, Anderson Silva has been victimized by the journeyman. Flash back to 2003. Anderson Silva is fighting Daiju Takase, a nobody with a 9-13 record who is only notable through the fact that he once submitted Anderson Silva with a triangle choke, effectively ending the Spider's nine fight winning streak. Otherwise, Takase is a hack. Jump forward to 2004, and Silva is fighting another heavy underdog in Ryo Chonan. Silva smacks Chonan down for nearly seventeen minutes (note: PRIDE FC rounds were ten minutes, five minutes, and five minutes. Sadistic, eh?). Finally, Chonan leaps into a flying scissor takedown and transitions into a heel hook. Silva taps and cries like Forrest Griffin.

What did Anderson Silva learn from his humiliating submission losses? He learned to never keep a man backed into a corner for too long, and he learned to FEAR the submission specialist. Feel free to talk jive about his poor performances against Demian Maia and Thales Leites, but know that those performances stem from the fact that he lost to men who weren’t as recognized as these two. If he hadn’t lost by submission in his past, he might not still be the champion.

Cung Le was a very celebrated Sanshou fighter who held an undefeated record in Sanshou and kickboxing circles. As a mixed-martial artist, he was expected to cruise into an undefeated streak. He learned the hard way about backing a man into a corner for too long. Cung Le had built up a year and a half worth of ring rust pursuing an acting career before stepping back into a cage to regain his abandoned Strikeforce belt. His opponent was a gimme; Scott Smith, a former UFC contender known for taking a beating and somehow snatching come-from-behind victories. Cung Le, like Mirko Cro Cop before him, was expected to sail into an easy victory for a title shot. For twelve minutes, it looked like he would. However, his inability to finish a technically inferior fighter cost him his immaculate record and Cung Le is stopped by a desperate last-attempt flurry. Sure, Cung Le avenged that lost a few months later, but it was proven that he is not invincible. Fighting in the movies is all he does now.

If a fighter is told he is invincible for long enough, he starts to believe it. Fedor Emelianenko had gone from the 21st of May, 2000 to the 7th of November, 2009 with only one loss on his record, and this loss is contended and deserves an asterisk due to the illegality of the maneuver that caused it. Still, Emelianenko was considered by many to be a different breed, a chubby Russian juggernaut that steamrolled over every opponent set before him, regardless of size or odds. In steps Fabricio Werdum. Werdum had won several grappling competitions, including the ADCC, CBJJ, and PAC competitions several times, but was an underdog and had mediocre striking ability. Fedor had fought other jiu-jitsu masters and won in several decision victories (Big Nog twice, Ricardo Arona, Renato Sobral), and was expected to go into his tenth year without being defeated. Believing in his invincibility, he makes a rookie mistake and falls on/pursues Werdum to the ground. One minute and nine seconds into the fight, the juggernaut had been stopped by submission.

As the dust settles and the sun rises, as the blood is cleaned from the cage and the warriors retire to their beds, one man is left holding the torch. The journeyman remains a constant threat to other competitors. What he lacks in natural ability and talent he makes up for with piss and vinegar. The journeyman will take a fight against any odds, even against the elite. He might not always win, he might not put on a good show when he takes a whomping, but every so often, he writes his name in the pages of the sport’s history in spectacular fashion. We expect the Silva’s, the Emelianenko’s, and the Le’s to be great, so much so that their wins don’t impress us in the slightest. What are more impressive are the average men who, by the grace of god, find a way to stop these monsters. It may be the only fights they’re known for, but it sure as hell beats the anonymity of the mediocre.