Don Frye vs. Chuck Norris: Breaking Down the Greatest Fight That Never Was

Introducing first, fighting out of the red corner: Chuck Norris.

And his opponent, fighting out of the other red corner: Don Frye.

That’s right. Norris. Frye. The eminent karate master. The rugged wrestler. A shared love of winning. A shared repulsion for whining. Two mustaches. One victor. 

It was the fight of the century. So why didn’t it happen?

First of all, how do you know it didn’t? Maybe the universe collapsed on itself from the force of their collision, causing a tear in the space-time continuum that erased that moment in history without our realizing it.

See, why didn't that occur to you? With that kind of three-dimensional namby-pamby thinking, it’s not hard to see why you never made Texas Ranger.

But fine. Let’s assume it didn’t actually happen. Give the baby his bottle, is what I say. So when, or how, could it have gone down? 

Let’s take a trip back to the year 1997. No one had yet realized that The Spice Girls were not especially attractive, and thus they ruled the pop charts. Titanic was teaching us all what it meant to truly love—and live. I knew a rich guy who owned something called a cellular telephone.

Chuck Norris was a Texas lawman who played by his own rules, unencumbered by what you and I, tucked away in those comfortable suburban enclaves, might consider acceptable. And in his spare time, he was still one of America’s foremost and most famous authorities on martial arts, or kara-TAY, as it was known in those days.  

To wit, it was in 1997 that Norris became one of the first Westerners in the history of Tae Kwon Do to receive the rank of 8th Degree Black Belt Grand Master. It seemed that, at age 57, Norris was truly hitting his stride.

Meanwhile, that same year, another mustachioed man was kicking in the door of the combat sports ivory tower. A Mr. Don Frye was becoming quite a dominant force in the fledgling world of the Ultimate Fighting Championship. After fighting a mere 11 times in 1996, Frye fought only once in 1997, defeating Eric Valdez at Unified Shoot Wrestling Federation 5.  Word is, after winning the Ultimate Ultimate 96 Tournament a year before, Frye left the UFC because he found the Octagon to be a little, ehhh, effeminate.

You can’t help but wonder what brand of mustache-on-mustache crime could have gone down between these two. Never mind the newspapers…THIS is the burning question of the day. 

So let’s break this bad boy down…that is, if you’ve got the guts.

1. Striking

Norris is more than a steely gaze and a bastion of law and order in a soft-headed world. He is also a martial arts master with 183 amateur and professional wins and a slew of titles and honors to his name.

Along with attaining Tae Kwon Do’s highest level, in 1990 Norris created his own form of martial arts, Chun Kuk Do, which combines elements of Muay Thai, Tang Soo Do, judo and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, among other styles. Only one man in the world has reached Chun Kuk Do’s highest rank of 10th degree black belt.  That man is Chuck Norris.

You can keep your Crane and Tiger styles. I will choose Chuck style, and my Chuck style will defeat you.

With that many degrees on your black belts, it’s pretty clear you’ve got a Ph. D in pain. A doctorate in the dishing out of death blows. In fact, I hear tell Death once had a near-Chuck Norris experience. When Chuck Norris crosses the road, the cars look both ways. Chuck Norris puts the “laughter” in “manslaughter.” And so forth.

Don Frye is a tough man and a solid stand-up competitor. Mortals are loathe to cross him. But with Norris, it’s obvious “mortality” does not enter the conversation until he gives it permission to do so. Here’s someone who, even in 1997 at the age of 57, would have been impossible to defeat in a standup battle.

And if you doubt it…well, perhaps a Roundhouse Kick to the cranium area will set you straight. Start tapping now.

Advantage: Chuck Norris.

2. Grappling

I think I can say without hyperbole that Don Frye’s story is the story of America. Or, at least American mixed martial arts. And in both cases, that story begins on the wrestling mat.

Frye wrestled at Arizona State and then Oklahoma State. At the former, he was coached by one Dan Severn. At the latter, he was a teammate of one Randy Couture. He actually advanced through a round or two of Greco Roman and freestyle qualifying matches for the 1988 Olympics.

Frye also has boxing experience and is credited as being one of the first in the UFC to combine different styles. But like the Greek wrestler Antaeus, who decorated the house of his father Poseidon with the skulls of his vanquished opponents, Don Frye’s true strength is derived from the ground.

Also, Antaeus, Don Frye thinks your fondness for home decoration is a little, well, suspicious. Don Frye sleeps under a pile of head gaskets, ring girls and broken tequila bottles. And that’s the way it ought to be, so long as Don Frye has anything to say about it.

Plus, remember when Bruce Lee broke Chuck Norris’ neck at the end of The Way of The Dragon? At the risk of attracting lightning bolts, I feel the need to point out that this may have exposed a tiny chink in the Chuck Norris armor.

Advantage: Don Frye.

3. Submissions

Last I heard, armbars submitted to Chuck Norris, and the D’Arce Choke was the name of Don Frye’s morning eye-opener.

No, sir. There will be no submissions. So just click on over to the next slide, son. CLICK!

Advantage: Push.

4. Winner

This might be the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make.

In a standup battle, I give this to Norris 10 times out of 10. But (and I’m sorry for this, Chuck Norris. I am sorry.) he seems not only to have less experience in the ground phase, but to believe takedown defense is a form of blasphemy.

Given this, combined with Norris' advanced age at the time of MMA's ascendance, I must give this victory to Don Frye.

Winner: Don Frye.