When I learned that this was all a sham, an act, a FAKE, I was completely disillusioned. I thought I was becoming a man, because what was more manly in the sixties than watching sports on the T.V.? Barely out of toddler status I was just too young to withstand the adult rules-driven monotony of "real"professional sports as Football and Baseball. No, nothing was more fun than whipping yourself into a sugar filled frenzy, bouncing off the furniture, mimicking the crippling moves of your hero wrestlers.
When this fake was revealed I was more heartbroken than when I realized Santa Claus was just another lie told to me by now totally untrustworthy parents. I actually always kind of thought the whole Santa thing was a bunch of crap, as far as I can remember anyways. My Mom and Dad made damn sure we knew just who had shelled out their hard-earned dough for the abundant Christmas bounty.
I consider myself very fortunate to have lived throughout possibly the greatest era in boxing, the phenom created by the incredible Muhammad Ali/Joe Frazier trilogy. If this didn't scratch the Gladiator "itch" for you nothing ever would. These were events of such major, wide reaching magnitude as to have actual serious political ramifications. Especially when the good ol' boys got down right racist.
But the contests were sparse back then and the technology primitive and limited. You would be lucky to find one or two good fights a year when you had to take into account outside obstacles such as bedtime and Mom's permission. But luckily these obstacles were being dealt with. The literal count of two whole channels would soon expand, hell, explode is probably more accurate! The popularity of the Ali/Frazier era ushered in a wave of boxing talent the world had never seen the likes of.
Young, incredibly gifted fighters, Gladiators if you will (and you will...) were no longer the underpaid palookas of yesteryear. Then the country finally got all hooked together through the greatest invention of the twentieth century, cable television. At this time boxing was competitive and plentiful. Until Mike fucking Tyson ruined it forever, inadvertently, but in ruins nonetheless.
At first Tyson was absolute Nirvana for fight lovers. Brutal fighting such as this had never been seen, with Tyson going through his competition like a hot knife slides through soft butter, soft pale butter. The fights left us gasping for more, more of the same intensity. And there is where the problem began. There were no fighters anywhere near as intense, and intensely violent, than Mike Tyson. His talent was unparalleled and at the ripe old age of Twenty years he captured the world heavyweight championship as the youngest champ ever.
And little old Mikey was in the process of capturing hundreds of millions of dollars.
This caused a feeding frenzy that resulted in the destruction of the once proud sport of Boxing. There are just too many tedious details to ever allow comprehension of the current pile of confusion that is now Boxing. Just trying to figure out who's the "Champ" is daunting. I started hearing of new heavyweight champs in a "Boxing Authority" I'd never heard of, along with never even previously having heard the "Champ's" name for fucksake!
And still the only fighter worth watching was Mike Tyson. He had set the bar so high by his total domination and destruction of his contenders that nothing less would satisfy the "Gladiator" that lurks in the heart of men. Some men have it pretty well hidden, especially when Tyson is nearby.
The late comedic genius Bob Schimmel had a joke about the time when someone asked Evander Holyfield if he would come out of retirement and fight Mike Tyson for fifty million dollars. Whereas Bob replied "I'd give Mike Tyson a blowjob in front of my parents for fifty million dollars!"
When Tyson was sent to jail for rape the popularity of boxing plummeted. Upon his release Mike Tyson would only have a few good years left in him. And there was no one to replace him. No one boxer, or any type of televised fighting for that matter could match what Tyson brought to the ring. The public, myself included, got to be very jaded as we listened to the promoter's promises of fighter after fighter that was supposed to be the next "Mike Tyson".
We, the fans, wanted something, demanded something, with the same brutal thrill. And we sure as hell hadn't seen it in boxing, thus creating a niche that demanded to be filled, an itch screaming out to be scratched. And the person that could whip this up would sure make some scratch, the green spendable kind, laid on him pretty damn quick. In big green piles.
This is when I started hearing about something that was being called by many names that tried to convey the same message - unbridled violence. Extreme fighting, Cage matches, Death matches, no holds barred, anything goes - these phrases were now required in an attempt to assuage the public's bloodlust. All kinds of laws were pushed to the limits or just downright broken. New laws had to be enacted with great urgency to protect Mom and Pop Smith and the kids!
What followed was some of the most violent "sporting" events ever witnessed. But sheer curiosity took hold with a profound grip. Would we get the same thrill as seeing Iron Mike reduce his opponent to a bloody quivering unconscious mess? I sure hoped so.
Various organizations came and went as the level and definitions of "respectable" and laughingly "safe" rules and laws were enacted. The sport, now usually referred to as "Ultimate Fighting" had finally gained enough public acceptance as to be televised. The amazing growth that followed was spectacular. The new genre was delivering just what the public wanted.
The largest organization to come out of this new wave is called, appropriately, Ultimate Fighting Championship, or UFC for short. There is even a new manner of combining many forms of fighting and martial arts that is refereed to as MMA, standing for Mixed Martial Arts. To compete on this stage, in this forum, you have to be a master at just about every type of fight, defense, or submission discipline extant.
This makes for some pretty incredible athletes that, In my opinion, are modern day Gladiators.
One such young man, Evan Tanner was a Renaissance man of sorts with many different intellectual inspirations under his belt. In 1989 he won the Texas State Championships in wrestling as a junior and senior despite only entering the sport in his sophomore year of high school.
By 2005 he was the UFC Middleweight Champion of the World.
It has been said that Even Tanner was not one to be absolutely absorbed by Ultimate Fighting. This, while hardly being anywhere near being a "bad thing" was probably not his best path if, this is a big "if" mind you, if he wanted to stay on top of the UFC world. He was already well off and very famous in the fight circles.
However his record immediately following his championship suffered as he lost several key fights. He was not without wins, mind you, just without the important wins, the legend making kind that he was quite capable of winning.
After a key loss that left his status with the UFC in limbo Evan was said to have had been inspired by a friend, inspired to explore the desert. What was not well known at the time was Evan had developed a serious dependency on alcohol and the status of that issue was still in question.
He’d just relocated to Oceanside, Calif., when he started his latest adventure to burrow into the desert, which he characterized as a “journey to solitude” on his blog. He was also noted as saying that he planned to burrow so deep into the desert as to be totally dependant on his gear, even to the point of noting that any equipment failure could result in his death.
Evan Tanner's body was found on September Eighth, 2008 and it was determined that he had died of heat exposure less than 48 hours into his trip.
It looks like his motorcycle had simply run out of gas.
Was this his “Journey to Solitude” or was it a proud, modern Gladiator on his way to Valhalla?
Food for thought.
Selah.
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