In an event that would mimic many of this author’s previous sexual encounters, both in brevity, and disappointment, we gathered around our idiot boxes Saturday night to witness the next step in the castration of UFC.  We were treated to the Fox Sports theme so commonly associated with the NFL; to Brock Lesnar in a suit that he probably hasn’t worn since he graduated from the University of Minnesota as an all-American wrestler. We were treated to people pretending to understand UFC. FOX was kind enough to display the rules just before the fight. We were treated to Curt Menefee pretending to give a damn about the UFC. We were treated to Dana White’s tired schtick about how every fight he promotes is so spectacular. We were treated to a shot of Alistair Overeem ringside, in a suit, and no preliminary fights but about 35 minutes of introduction to Junior Dos Santos, and Cain Velasquez. Finally, we were also treated to a fight that lasted only 64 seconds when Dos Santos caught Velasquez with an overhand right to the back of the head and finished him off in ground-and-pound. That’s not terrible; fight fans know that it can-and-does happen in the fight game; but why did we have to have all these ribbons and bows for this?

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