I do not like UFC

On Saturday night, I was at Hooters up in Humble, watching the Redskins game. Okay, before we go any further, a few things: Humble is not my usual stomping ground, the staff at this Hooters are very qualified to work there and my wife knew I was there—in fact, she showed up to eat with Madge and Madgette.

Anyway, back to the ‘Skins. We’re sitting there, minding our own business, watching the game (and ignoring the Texans game on other TVs) when, all of a sudden, the sound system in the place goes nuts, blaring something non-football related.

“Blah blah blah IN THE OCTAGON blah blah blah BLOODSPORT yadda yadda yadda TONIGHT.”

Oh, crap. UFC. I hate UFC.

Why do I hate UFC, outside of the fact that it bears a striking resemblance to the gladiatorial fights that marked the start of the fall of the Roman Empire? A few reasons. One is that these guys who are MMA fighters are about one step away from being basic street thugs. There’s more technique used in hockey fights. You got a bunch of big ‘roided out goons beating the shit out of each other! Great! If you dressed them up in rags and gave them each 40s, you could mistake it for “bum fights.” It is not a sport. It requires no talent. It requires you getting leverage once and beating the other guy’s face in. Woo hoo.

Another reason is because I’ll wager it’s real big in Montrose. I mean, seriously, have you watched any of this stuff? You’ve got a bunch of muscle-bound galoots wearing thongs all oiled up, wrestling and putting their legs around other guys heads and other places they just simply should not be. This stuff has got to be a gay guy’s dream.

Of course, never make the gay commentary when you’re in a bar full of UFC fans. They tend to get a little pissy. P. Daddy refuses to learn this, and every time we’re out and a UFC event comes on, P. Daddy starts making all kinds of homoerotic references which make all the people around us want to kill him. At least once, Jaime’, Drew and I have turned around and informed the people standing behind us that the guy talking smack was in the middle and if they attacked him, that’s fine, but if they came after anyone else, they’d leave with their teeth in a Ziploc bag.

If you hadn’t already guessed, UFC fan is my biggest problem with UFC. They’re not fans of any other sport. Most of them look like they put off their little World of Warcraft playdate for Saturday night, put on some Clearasil and are going to go act all bad while they watch this shit on pay-per-view. The older ones frequently look like they’ve never gotten laid and, if they are married, like trying out the MMA moves on their wives.

And all of them think they’re badasses.

After “yadda yadda TITLE BOUT blah blah VENGEANCE” went over the speakers, some douchebag who was maybe 19 decided he’d change the channel on the TV that had the Redskins game on so he could watch the pre-fight crap. Of course, the first fairy punch didn’t get thrown for another two hours, but he had to watch the glories of Brock Lesnar (whoever that is) over and over and over again.

Well, I got pissed and told the manager that some jackhole had changed the channel. The manager, being a Redskins fan (he went to school with Rock Cartwright) walked over and changed it back.

“Someone up here’s gonna get dead,” UFC toughguy said.

“Hey, thanks for letting us change the channel back to where it was supposed to be,” I said to the punk, who had to squint through his glasses to see who was talking to him. “I’m glad to see it wasn’t a problem.”

He stared at me. I glared at him.

“Uh, no, no problem,” he said.

I’m sure that he was already thinking about when he got home, when he could tell his World of Warcraft buddies how he put this football fan dude in a double supflexor or some shit like that because he dared to change the channel on him.

UFC sucks.