Aaaallez, allez, allez, allez!

     Last night was the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) 124 event at the Bell Centre in Montreal. I wish I could have been there, but I had to watch it at my nephew's house and that's the next best thing 'cos he caters. lol.
     I didn't show up until about 11:30 p.m. Irving Berlin's White Christmas was on AMC and I can't get enough of Danny Kaye and Vera Ellen. Have you SEEN her waist in that movie? I used to have a waist like that :( It was a bit of a mental struggle going from musicals in Vermont to mixed martial arts in Quebec though. I arrived just in time for Struve vs. McCorkle.
     My nephew likes to make fun of me because my first question on arrival is always, "Who's playing?" I realize they are not "playing", but it's like any other sport to me. I don't ask "Who's hockeying?" or "Who's footballing?" To ask, "Who's fighting?" implies a certain level of animosity between the contenders that I prefer not to acknowledge.
     I like Stefan Struve. He's a 6'11" little boy and when he gets in the ring he likes to make that monkey face so popular among the mixed martial artists. That's where they've got their big mouth guard over their teeth then they stretch their mouth really wide and scream just like a monkey in the zoo. EE EE EE AA AA AA AA! He's only 22 and he's from the Netherlands. He was playing "Big Sexy" Sean McCorkle. I don't think he's big and sexy. I think he's a little arrogant guy from Indianapolis. "Little" may be incorrect. He's 6'7". I was going for Struve (obviously) despite the fact that the guys (my hubby, nephew Scooter and nephew Ryan) were going with the experience and well-rounded skills of the 34 year old.
     Things were going pretty well for McCorkle, who got Struve in a painful-looking Kimura pretty early in the first round. Even when he squirms out of the Kimura, Struve is stuck underneath McCorkle and "underneath" is just not where you want to be in mixed martial arts. However, in one quick flip, Struve gets on top and starts smashing McCorkle in the face. There were too many unanswered blows while McCorkle just covered his head so the ref called the fight.
     If you don't watch UFC and that last paragraph sounded too graphic for you, you may be wondering how a mild-mannered (lol), almost-middle-aged woman, who likes drinking wine and baking cookies could enjoy such a violent display. Admittedly, there are times when I have to cover my eyes. But, as a general rule, I'm all for a good, clean fight. I've even had my share of fisticuffs back in the day. Like that time my sister likes to remind me of every once in a while, where I punched a guy in the stomach for calling her... something. Neither of us can remember what he said to her exactly, but it was bad and he deserved a quick blow to the diaphragm. Better than a swift quick to the nuts, right?
     Just before the main event, they showed a recap of an earlier lightweight fight between Toronto-native Mark Bocek and that guy who looks like the dark-haired hick from Bugs Bunny's Hillbilly Hare. You remember that episode! The one where Bugs Bunny leads the two country cousins in a square dance?

Now into the brook and fish for a trout. Dive right in and splash about
Trout, trout, pretty little trout. One more splash and come right out

     That's exactly what this fight reminded me of. Bocek is a redhead just like Punkinhead and Dustin Hazelett is just like Curt. And this is how it went:

Grab a fence post, hold it tight,
        Womp your partner with all your might.
        Hit him in the shin, hit him in the head,
        Hit him again, the critter ain't dead.
        Wop him low and wop him high,
        Stick your finger in his eye.
        Pretty little rhythm, pretty little sound,
        Bang your heads against the ground.

     I'm normally a Hazelett fan, but in this case I had to go for the home team. Bocek won.
     The last fight of the night, the main event, was my favourite little Quebecois with a Japanese soul, Georges St. Pierre, against loud-mouthed, American villain Josh Koschek. This fight had so much hype it wasn't funny.  I was genuinely afraid for Kos' life since he had pissed off so many people. He talked shit about the Habs, he said he didn't like GSP because he was French.... he was just obnoxious. You could barely hear the announcer over the booing crowd when Koscheck walked into the ring.
     I was very nervous. The match went five rounds of five minutes each and GSP just kept jabbing Kos in the right eye and kicking his left leg. Kos barely got a strike in. They almost called the fight because his eye was swollen shut after the first two rounds. It was a decision fight and, in the end, the two of them couldn't say enough good things about each other. I like a happy ending.