Let's Get It On!_ The Making of MMA and Its Ultimate Referee - Big John Mccarthy [52]
The crowd started booing, but DeLucia was doing everything right.
Then DeLucia grabbed Jenkins from behind and dropped backward, securing a hold called the rear-naked choke, wrapping his arm around Jenkins’ neck and grabbing his bicep to squeeze while lacing his other arm behind Jenkins’ head to lock the choke in.
Jenkins tapped out at fifty-two seconds, and the one sign of a fight was a small cut near DeLucia’s eye. Jenkins’ toenail had cut him during a kick.
Respectful and self-disciplined, DeLucia showed a lot of promise, and I think he got what we were trying to do right away. “Gracie Jiu-Jitsu had a big influence in the way I’ll fight from this day on,” he told the interviewer as he left the cage.
I knew we hadn’t seen the last of this kid. Shortly after UFC 1, DeLucia would begin to train with Ken Shamrock.
With a few more minutes remaining until the finals, Rorion and his brothers, including Royce with his white gi peeking out of his blue Gracie Team jacket, entered the Octagon to make a special presentation to their father, Helio. One thing about Rorion was that he absolutely loved and respected his dad. Money, fame, and notoriety were all motivations that had brought about this night, but I believe one of the main reasons Rorion created the UFC was to honor his father. He was everything to him.
“What is the oldest question in the history of combat? Who is the ultimate fighter?” Rorion asked the audience. “We are here to pay our respects and to acknowledge the accomplishments of a pioneer warrior, who sixty-five years ago paved the way for this competition. He was a fighter who took on any challengers regardless of fighting style in the most bone-breaking, bare-knuckle fights that the civilized world has ever seen. We honor his fighting spirit, his teachings, his vision.”
The crowd was unimpressed with the lull in action, but I understood that more than six decades of trial and error by that old fragile-looking man standing in the center of the cage had brought us to this moment. When people say today that Bruce Lee is the grandfather of MMA, it pisses me off. No disrespect to Lee, who was one of my childhood idols, but Helio was the guy. He’s the one who started all of this, and he deserves the credit.
A stoic Helio stood there as his son handed him a plaque.
“This event that my children present here in Denver today is the prize that I receive for my sixty-five years of sweat and blood,” Helio said.
If the majority of the audience didn’t quite get the magnitude of this moment beyond the $50,000 purse on the line, there were still a handful of us aware. After the ceremony, Royce and Gordeau made their final trip that evening to the cage.
There were no surprises in this one. Royce immediately shot for the Dutchman’s legs, and Gordeau wisely tried to struggle free from the takedown but couldn’t fend off Royce for long. Again, Royce moved to mount, and like Ken Shamrock, Gordeau instinctually flipped to his stomach to protect his face. Royce applied the rear-naked choke but this time held it until the referee stopped it even after Gordeau tapped the mat and Royce’s shoulder to signal his submission.
Many people ask why Royce held the choke so long on Gordeau, but it’s because Gordeau had bitten Royce’s ear to try and shake his mount. Royce was dishing out a little payback.
I stood on the platform outside the cage and watched Royce receive his gold medal and one of those poster-sized checks written for $50,000 as Helio looked on from the floor. Royce was flanked by his brothers and his future wife, Marianne, all of them wearing grins and a hint of relief on their faces. Rorion’s was the biggest smile of all.
I drove Royce and Marianne back to the hotel afterward, then dropped them off for dinner alone at a restaurant. On the way, Royce didn’t say much