Let's Get It On!_ The Making of MMA and Its Ultimate Referee - Big John Mccarthy [65]
6
Leopoldo’s use of a prop in his entrance wasn’t the only unique thing he introduced to the UFC. Like a professional wrestler, he also had his manager in his corner. Joe Son, a portly Asian man with a drooping mustache, would later tell reporters that by stepping into the Octagon, Kimo, who was also identified as a minister, had “answered the Lord’s call.”
Not long into Royce and Leopoldo’s battle, they bounced into the door, which swung open. The fighters didn’t separate, so I felt I should let them stay in that position and moved them to another panel as stagehands fidgeted with the latch to get the Octagon gate shut again. Leopoldo and Royce remained on the fence wrestling for control for the next ninety seconds, which told me Leopoldo was strong.
I had more trouble keeping the cornermen in line during this fight than I had reffing Royce and Leopoldo. We allowed a single coach to stand on the apron to instruct his fighter, and they were situated at two opposite panels.
When the gate swung open in front of Royce’s corner, Joe Son decided to leave his designated area and perched himself next to Leopoldo, now backed against the cage, to give his instructions from there.
I barked at Joe Son repeatedly to get off the fence and back to his corner, but he kept sneaking back to the fighters.
Seeing what Joe Son was doing, the elderly Helio decided to inch closer to the men as well. At one point, Royce’s brother Relson was even leaning over the cage screaming directions at Royce.
Disorder was taking over, and all I could do in that moment was contain it as much as I could.
Leopoldo did a good job competing with Royce, far better than the seven other opponents who had come before him at UFC 1 and 2. Leopoldo nearly tugged Royce’s gi off his torso and refused to be taken down. In fact, when Royce finally managed a throw, Leopoldo took Royce’s back as they hit the mat. Leopoldo lost his hook, and Royce shook himself free and reversed to top position. Leopoldo swept Royce and was on top again just as fast.
Royce wasn’t as well-conditioned because of his injury. The lights, his sagging gi, and Leopoldo blanketing him got to him. Though Royce used Leopoldo’s ponytail to control his head effectively, this was the first time I’d seen Royce struggle with anybody. I thought if Leopoldo hadn’t had that ponytail, it might have ended differently, but Royce found an armbar and submitted Leopoldo after four minutes and forty seconds.
It was the most competitive bout I’d seen Royce in, and it set the crowd on fire. I struggled to keep order in the cage, chasing Joe Son away as he began instigating a confrontation with the Gracie corner. I wrangled both men back to the center to raise Royce’s hand, but neither fighter was leaving the Octagon unscathed. Leopoldo was bleeding from a cut on his left eyebrow, while Royce, drained and in a daze, had to be propped up by his brother Relson and carried out of the arena like a lifeless marionette.
Backstage, the Gracie family gathered around Royce like a protective cocoon. Since I was refereeing all of the night’s matches again, I didn’t have the time to check on him, but he later told me his family kept him on his feet and he took a shower and even sucked in some oxygen offered by one of the paramedics on standby.
When Royce reappeared two fights later for his semifinal match against Canadian Harold Howard, he wasn’t the same. He was pasty and listless, though he wasn’t sweating at all. I walked over to his corner and asked if he was okay.
“I can’t see. I see white,” he said weakly.
I called Rorion over and told him, “Your brother’s not right. He shouldn’t fight.”
“Well, what’s wrong with him?” Rorion peered through the chain link at his sibling. “He’s fine. He’s fine.”
“No, he’s not, and you need to go over and take a look at him.”
Royce was exhausted, dehydrated, and certainly in no condition to fight.
Through the cage, Rorion spoke with Royce, who told his brother the same thing he’d told me. Rorion turned back to me and said, “I’m getting the alternate.