The UFC's Kimbo Slice Experiment Gets Off on the Right Foot (or Fist)

If you're even a casual fan of mixed martial arts, you know the name Kimbo Slice.

You know that his street-fighting exploits became the stuff of YouTube legend; his subsequent pseudo-celebrity landed him a paid gig fighting for Elite Xtreme Combat, and that ended badly when a last-minute replacement by the name of Seth Petruzelli turned off his lights with one gentle jab.

EliteXC had gambled on Slice, whose real name is Kevin Ferguson, and made him their golden goose. Unfortunately, the egg he laid against Petruzelli gave the organization a jolt from which it couldn't recover. Once it closed shop, Slice became a free agent of sorts.

His fighting acumen came under even heavier scrutiny so the Ultimate Fighting Championship wasn't exactly knocking down his door, but the big bearded one's draw is undeniable. The former backyard brawler wouldn't get the fast-track to serious competition, but he would get his shot at the MMA big leagues.

UFC President Dana White allegedly crafted the new season of The Ultimate Fighter:  The Heavyweights specifically as a vehicle for Kimbo to prove himself worthy.

White's brainchild—the only reality show that doesn't make me want to puke and then leave the country shaking my head—kicked off this past week. Instead of having the heavyweights fight their way onto the show as has been the format for recent TUF seasons, the audience got introduced to the 16 combatants who would be vying for the UFC contract.

Then, we saw the first fight of the season.

Of course, all of that was a bit after the fact as far as I was concerned. Although it was interesting that four former National Football League players had found their way to the world of mixed martial arts (and said it was more rigorous), I was most interested in seeing Kimbo Slice with no crutches.

By that, I mean the UFC is the 800-pound gorilla in the MMA world and is threatening to elbow its way right onto the main professional sport stage. In other words, it will survive and continue to flourish regardless of what Slice does.

EliteXC had every reason to put him up against over-the-hill patsies. That way, the organization could start printing money immediately and Slice would have time to develop into a legitimate mixed martial artist under the tutelage of Bas Rutten.

It wasn't really a bad plan considering El Guapo's formidable MMA resume, but it obviously didn't work.

Contrarily, the UFC will do the man no favors. If he succeeds, great—White and his hoods will have another high-profile heavyweight to sacrifice at the Brock Lesnar altar. If he fails, the trash-talking Dana White was right all along and they'll find the Next Big Thing somewhere else.

It's a win-win situation for the UFC so it should be a sincere test for the Bahamas-born fighter. Which should make it a good spectacle.

After the first hour-long installment, I've gotta say I was pretty impressed by a less-hyped Kimbo Slice. Not necessarily by his fighting (his wrestling looked pretty terrible), but by the way he carried himself.

It can't be easy making a return to the bright lights with such an embarrassing defeat as the last impression left on the fight world. Especially in a sport that features as many egomaniacal hotheads and as much false bravado as mixed martial arts.

Not to mention said defeat essentially turtled an entire fight organization. It can't be one of Kimbo's prouder moments, yet you know he'll be reminded of it constantly as the other contestants try to destroy his confidence, brick by brick.

True to form, the other fighters as well as coach Rashad Evans were almost openly mocking Slice. Granted, his solo entrance after all the others had been assembled for the introduction didn't help matters.

Nevertheless, I seriously doubt that was Kimbo's idea. Like I said, Dana and the suits will do him no favors.

How's this for a shock to the system—I actually felt a little bad for the big fella.

Standing a little apart from the other 15 fighters, Slice looked and sounded like he was well-aware of the bull's-eye hanging around his neck. In truth, he should be so aware. Given his current predicament, it would take an incredible feat of self-deception to pretend he was "just one of the guys."

The father of six is very much an outsider and, as such, a marked man.

I give Kimbo credit for acknowledging his status as both without all the bombast about loving the role, thriving in the role, blah, blah, blah that gets so tedious. Sure, it makes for a great sound byte if the audience buys it, but fight fans hear it SO often, how can we keep buying it?

Instead of cliched line after cliched line, Slice seemed refreshingly honest.

I even thought I could pick up a little doubt from him and found that further endearing. It was subtle, mixed in with the standard self-assurances, but I swear it was there.

Again, it should be.

In a lot of ways, Kimbo Slice is the overwhelming underdog in this thing—he's like a defending champ that everyone wants a crack at except he's never won anything of any note. The pelts he has hanging on his wall don't belong to any mixed martial artist of substantive quality. Yet despite his relative inexperience, you have to figure Slice will get each opponent's A-game when it's possible the adversary's C-game would be too much.

It's a little bit as if every team on their schedule mistook the Detroit Lions for the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Rough.

It was only the first episode, so I can't say I'll be rooting for Kimbo Slice to emerge as the last fighter standing.

But I do enjoy a sympathetic underdog.

And the man is threatening to become just that.

**www.pva.org**