Death Clutch - Brock Lesnar [58]
I put my old wrestling coach, Marty Morgan, in charge of the camp. Greg Nelson and Erik Paulson came on board as my MMA trainers, and worked with me on my submission defense, striking, and general game plan. I was grappling with two-time NCAA Division I Champion Cole Konrad, and two-time NCAA Division II All-American Chris Tuchscherer. I brought in some other big, tough guys like Kirk Klosowsky and Jesse Wallace so I always had people who could push me harder and harder every day. When I needed work on specific skills, we would hire in the best people available, like seven-time Brazilian jiujitsu world champion Rodrigo “Comprido” Medeiros.
I actually like Randy Couture. Well, I like him now. I didn’t let his status as a legend get into my head before we stepped into the Octagon with each other. Going into that fight, I kept reminding myself of the lesson I had learned against Wes Hand. I didn’t want to have any respect for Randy at all. He was in my way, an obstacle to be overcome on my way to the UFC Heavyweight Championship. Randy Couture was preventing me from providing a better life for my family, and that’s the only way I wanted to look at him.
When you step into the Octagon with Randy you are not just fighting him, you are fighting everything he’s accomplished in the sport of mixed martial arts as well. It would be easy for anyone to be intimidated by his past, to be in awe of the fighter standing across the Octagon from you. But I knew that as soon as I thought to myself, “Oh wow, this is Randy Couture, he’s this and he’s that,” I would be done. I would have already lost the fight, before it even started.
So I told myself, “I already know what Randy Couture is. Now I want to figure out what he isn’t.” That’s the big difference between me and all of the guys that he beat. I didn’t enter the Octagon holding Randy on some pedestal above me. I didn’t even look at him as an equal. I looked at him as the guy I was going to beat. In my mind, I had no doubt that I was the better man, the more deserving champion.
As I stepped into the Octagon that night, the entire arena was booing me with a passion. It reminded me of my days as a heel in WWE. UFC fans did not want to see their hero crushed by a “fake” WWE professional wrestler. They wanted to see Randy show me that I didn’t belong, beat my ass, and ship me back to Vince McMahon’s doorstep in a box.
From the moment the crowd got their first glimpse of Couture, the chants of “Randy . . . Randy . . . Randy!” filled the arena. As much as the crowd was booing me, they were cheering for Randy Couture. I was loving every moment of it. I knew I was going to win. My training peaked just at the right time. My confidence was at an all-time high. I looked across the Octagon, and all I saw was the person I was going to smash and beat for the heavyweight title. I was minutes away from being able to afford the best life possible for my family.
During the first round, I listened to my trainers’ advice, and just tried to feel Randy out. Could I get him up against the cage? Could I maneuver him? Was he leaving me any openings?
As I was feeling Randy out, he went to his old bread and butter, and tried to stand me up against the cage, where he could use his dirty boxing against me. But I saw it coming, shot on him, and took him to the ground, where I was able to control him. All three judges had me winning that round on their scorecards.
I came out for the second round, and caught Randy with a right hand, but he countered and caught me with a right of his own that opened up a cut above my eye. Randy saw the blood and thought he had me rocked, and he came in to finish the job. That’s when I unloaded on him. I caught him behind the left ear with a solid shot, and he went down.
The moment Randy collapsed, I jumped right on him. I knew this was my chance to finish him off, and I wasn’t going to let up until the referee, Mario Yamasaki, pulled me off and declared me the winner. I pummeled Couture unmercifully. It was just like going hunting. I was never going to give him a chance to