Death Clutch - Brock Lesnar [68]
Dana never told me he was going to call me into the Octagon when they were interviewing the winner of the fight, but I knew it was coming. The last time anyone had seen me in UFC was after I beat Frank, and I was giving the crowd the double bird and pissing off the sponsors. I wasn’t looking for controversy with Shane Carwin, but I wasn’t running from it either. When Carwin said winning the Interim Championship was this great big achievement, I just told it like it is. It’s a fake title and that’s a fake title belt. I actually felt bad for him if that was really the greatest moment in his life.
Training for Shane Carwin, we brought in Peter Welch, a famous boxing coach from Boston. Even though I broke Heath Herring’s face with one punch and knocked out Randy Couture, I still hadn’t learned the core basics in boxing. I wanted to find a grassroots boxing coach to help me learn how to get my feet underneath me. I had this great wrestling base, but how can I use that to my advantage, and combine my years of training as a wrestler with something as simple as a new stance so that when I punch, I’m punching from my feet to my hands. I wanted to learn the fundamentals, and Peter was the right guy to teach me these things.
Peter brings a lot of energy into everything he does, and that’s infectious. He fit right in with my coaching staff. That’s another key. All of my trainers have to respect the fact that it’s Marty Morgan who calls the shots. I’ve seen situations with other fighters where there are too many chiefs and not enough Indians. In my camp, Marty’s the boss. We do things his way, because he knows what he’s doing. He proved that to me at the University of Minnesota. J Robinson may have technically been the head coach, but Marty was the one who worked hard at developing that bond with me. Today it’s no different. I trust Marty, because he’s earned my trust. Peter Welch was used to running the show, but he adapted very quickly, and he became a huge asset.
With my wife pregnant, I knew I could ask for more time before I had to defend my title against Shane Carwin. Hell, I just came off my deathbed. UFC would have granted me any reasonable extension of time I requested, but I wanted to get back into the Octagon. It’s the old expression about falling off a horse. You have to get right back on that pony and ride until you know you’re the master again. I don’t know how many more fights I will commit to in my fighting career, but I do know that when my career is over, it will be because I made the decision that my time was up. I’m not going to let fate make that decision for me. I want to see my career through to the end, on my own terms.
I felt the same way about Shane Carwin challenging me for my title. I just didn’t see him as the guy to end my championship reign. I wasn’t working this hard, sacrificing this quality time with my infant son, putting my wife through another pregnancy practically by herself, just to get knocked out by Shane Carwin.
We brought in a lot of wrestlers with heavy hands to mimic Carwin, because we knew that he not only had one-punch knockout power but also was a Division II National Champion. I knew my wrestling was superior to his, but those hands were something to deal with. As long as I could avoid Carwin nailing me on the chin, there was nothing to worry about. I was determined not to get hit.
Right before the fight, referee Josh Rosenthal told us both, “This is for the UFC Heavyweight Championship, so I’m going to give both of you a fighter’s chance. As long as you can answer my questions, and intelligently defend yourself, I’m letting the fight go on.”
My biggest problem walking into the Octagon against Carwin was that I was so determined not to get hit, to avoid getting knocked out, that I stepped into the cage all tensed up. No matter who you