The Bros are joined by UFC HW Curtis “Razor” Blades, and discuss what is next for him in the division going forward. It was a pleasure chatting with Curtis and we can’t wait until we get to talk with him again! Next, the Bros tell all about their experience with UFC Houston. If you want the podcast goodness, scroll on down to the bottom.
In light of UFC 208’s disappointing show we have to remember the good times we had with MMA. Times like– the day before the Super Bowl when a few brave souls endured downtown traffic to catch a humble yet epic fight card. Did the UFC’s return to Houston exceed its non-existent hype? Bro yeah, it did!
We arrived just as the card started. Would Khalil “Round Three” knock out his opponent in the first while we stood in the beer line? Of course.
Niko Price was getting outworked by Alex Morono until the last second of round 2, when he unceremoniously dispatched Morono with an uppercut against the cage. Don’t let his psychopathic fighter profile pic fool you: Niko Price really is a stone-cold killer, at least in the Octagon.
Bec Rawlings and her purple hair and extra weight could not hold down Tecia Torres; Torres pieced her up all night. Ricardo Ramos did pretty much the same to Michinori Tanaka. These routine fights were spiced up by the cheers of fans, not the least of whom was the old dancing Mexican man in a Dream Team jersey sitting in front of us.
We bullshat about fight strategy before the Skelly/Gruetzmacher fight. Chas is really tall for a featherweight, and even though we made fun of his name, he is a Texan, he won by RNC, and wants his next fight to be in Dallas this May. We salute you. Curtis Blades listened to his corner’s advice while Viet yelled out “Suplex City!” Hespect to the Razor!
Everyone was a little drunker and more on edge by this point, but our awaited bout was upon us: Andrade/Hill. Jessica Andrade moved forward for three rounds but Angela Hill (aka Sagat) weathered every Storm (her other alias). It was Fight of the Night for sure. Marcel Fortuna got a performance bonus immediately afterwards with an overhand knockout over the much larger Anthony Hamilton.
Ovince St. Preux was facing unranked Volkan Oezdemir. OSP deserved to lose, as he didn’t do much of anything. Thankfully the audience reminded him of this by booing nearly the entire fight. That fight had less action than Matt “Two Stripes” bedroom (He’s single, ladies. Please send requests with a headshot and recent tax return to firstname.lastname@example.org).
Drunk UFC fans are the best fans; I will never forget their boos and calls for a standup as James Vick had a fully locked-in D’Arce choke on Abel Trujillo. The Texecutioner won, BTW.
We also learned that Shaq’s sub defense is subpar, and Guy Fieri is easy to pick out from across a dimly lit sports arena. We even saw the general manager of the Rockets (they’re a professional basketball team).
The co-main event of Herrig/Grasso was a nailbiter, if only because long nails are against the rules. Herrig won at kickboxing range, which made the difference in her decision victory. The chants of Me-xi-co! were countered with a different chant, “Build that Wall!”, started in part by “Two Stripe” with the help of Dream Team Mexican grandpa. While we landed more “volume”, Zanahoria gave us major side-eye, so you could call it a 10-10 round.
And then it happened …
The lights went down and “Zombie” by the Cranberries blasted over he speakers. The Korean Zombie made his way to the cage and I thought to myself, “This fight might be closer than I thought,”as well as “I bet the line to the bathroom is going to suck after this.” Bermudez came out with his own swag, and before I knew it, they were touching gloves. There were South Korean flags EVERYWHERE. Even though Toyota Center was only half full, the lights and sounds made it seem at least 2/3 full, maybe even 3/4.
The combatants looked pretty even to start, with a possible edge going to Bermudez. Then Dennis “The Menace” bobbed one too many times and Zombie responded, “Hey. Hey. Hey! This is uppercut,” and Bermudez went to sleep (albeit a short nap rather than a full REM cycle).
And that was it. 37 beers, 12 fights, 5 knockouts, 2 submissions, and 1 accommodating wife later and it was all over. The six hours flew by, and we only yelled at about 20 different people to sit down. We didn’t get the Justin Ledet matchup (he was busy pissing excellence as well as PED byproducts), but it was a well-fought card with some of the Broest Bros You Know. #UFCHouston