From The ArmChair: Roy Nelson's Rise To Obscurity
Dear Roy Nelson,
Roy I wanted to cheer for you. I really did. I thought I had your schtick figured out from the get go and I was ready to line up as a fan. I truly was. You are have a decent MMA skill set and almost ready for the big show. You are also built like your average Santa Claus albeit a Santa who can seemingly throw down. Opponents routinely under estimate you based on your build and you capitalize on that. You also seemed jolly and EVERYONE like a jolly Santa.
See, like many others, I have a soft spot (no pun intended) for the perennial underdog. You know that guy who has to work twice as hard to be half as good and walks to the gym uphill in a snow storm both ways? Yea that guy. Thats NOT YOU ROY. NOT YOU AT ALL!
Roy you came into TUF with the best MMA credentials of all the participants. You circled the heavyweight top ten rankings like an ornery version of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man in Ghost Busters. You were the IFL Champion. Sure you lost your last two matches but you didn't just lose to anyone you lost to that Arlovski guy whose punched out a few big dogs in his day and that pesky Monson who keeps showing up when no one else will to hold people down.
Your portrayal within the TUF house on season 10 left me dumbfounded. First up you figured you were the big surprise Dana was announcing. Okay so you are clearly delusional.
Its known to happen to those folks who block punches with they're face for a living. In itself that is no sin, but couple that with the other elements that comprise the athlete known as Roy Nelson and it paints an awkward picture to the public who pay for those seats that enable you to fight. You might have heard of them?
Next up Roy you were given the most sought after opportunity this season could provide. You were served up Kimbo Slice on a plate and told to go back for seconds. Well perhaps you weren't so much as told as it was assumed a man of your stature would not only be going back for seconds but asked to leave the buffet.
What did you do Roy? Did you step up to the biggest meal on the table like an angry starving dog whose just come off two losses and tear it up? You know tear it up with you years of MMA experience and gravitationally large ego?
No Roy. No you didn't. You were content to take an opponent inexperienced on the ground to the ground and simply lay on him placing him in a most vulnerable position where he was unable to defend himself then rain down what amounted to a mild noogie. A NOOGIE!
Even if I were going to play devils advocate and put the "being the good guy" spin on that clunker to justify what just happened Roy you managed to take the debacle one step further. Roy you could EASILY have opted to play the role of the jolly good guy who spared a clearly outmatched Mr. Slice a brutal thrashing by a superior fighter while the lesser opponent was vulnerable.
BUT NO! No Roy. No sir. You weren't going to do that. You are Mr. Roy Nelson and you take the road less travelled. You didn't stop there either did you Roy? No! You proceeded down some bike trail to god knows where for god knows what reason with a terrible performance and post fight antics like you just won the Superbowl. Roy you somehow managed to end up coming across like a complete self absorbed delusional douche bag when all you had to do is feign an ounce of humility and you were set.
At this point in show I completely lost all desire to see you Roy Nelson fight period. I was not even interested to see you Roy thrown to the wolves as a tune up for a Carwin or a Lesnar. While I understand that between editing and reality perhaps Roy Nelson was portrayed a certain way but typically Roy, those editing geniuses usually set a guy up to be a star or served up to a star and not in some uncomfortable grey area just this side of we don't care.
None the less the show goes on and I keep watching. Roy you were pitted against a game Justin Wren in episode 9. We were treated to no surprises here with you Roy delivering another 'just good enough' performance to squeak out a decision which was the first time I ever thought a fighter could lose stock value with a win. I also recently wrote an article entitled Dana White Simply Cannot Lose only to have you Roy come along and manage to prove me wrong.
Roy I get the whole lone wolf thing with you training yourself and not having too many friends along the way. On one hand it demands much respect in that you've managed to accomplish so much on your own but on the other hand that level of respect means you have farther to fall in the face of losing face. Follow? No? Its okay.
What I mean is I expected more from you Roy and you failed to deliver. Not only did you fail to deliver you actually managed to nearly derail your career. No one wants to see you fight. Typically people who tune in to watch fights WANT to see people fight so you may have set a precedent here. You aren't quite Kalib Starnes calibre yet but you are certainly closing in on that pedigree.
You know how some movies are so bad the badness is entertaining? Yea Roy, thats not you either. I congratulate you on your latest win which proved to be relatively watchable but one must keep in mind that compared to your last two outings television static could also be deemed watchable.
Last but not least Roy before I go I want you to know I will be watching the Finale. Yes but please do NOT let this go to your head. I want you to know Roy that I was almost tempted to skip the finale courtesy of a tantalizing offer to go to a candle / house warming party with my wife with people I hardly know and probably don't like. For the record house warming / candle parties rank up there with shaving my bikini line with a cheese grader.
It was a close call but in the end I as a fan owe the guys putting themselves on the line the respect of being a fan for the effort they put forward in a sport that I like as much as I do. Likewise you as a fighter owe your opponent and more importantly your fans the respect of fighting with at the very least some heart and honor since you've chosen to occupy the same octagon that my television happens to focused on while the world tunes in courtesy of the prospect of seeing your opponent fight.
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