New York has legalised ‘extreme fighting’, an anything-goes mix of martial = art
s. Ian Katz reports=20
ON March 26, Kenny Monday and John Lewis will step into a ring in an as yet= un
disclosed Manhattan arena and do their level best to beat the living daylig= hts
out of one another.
They will pummel, kick, squeeze, pull, bend, twist, slap – anything to rend= er=20
the other man unconscious or subject him to so much pain that he taps the f= loo
r in submission.
No referee will step in to separate the two men when they begin to grapple = and
writhe on the canvas that by then will be certainly doused with blood and =
swe
at. No buzzer will sound to mark the end of one round or the beginning of a= not
her. And the only protective clothing worn by the combatants will be lightl= y p added knuckle-guards designed to protect the fighters’ fists, rather than t= he=20
parts of t heir opponents’ anatomy with which they make contact.
For this is “extreme fighting”, a self-styled sport which its promoters cal= l t he ultimate martial art and its critics call a close approximation to human= co
ckfighting. Pandering to the same primal bloodlust that packed the Colosseu= m o f Rome for gladiatorial combat, the sport has gained in popularity in the U= nit
ed States since 1993 when New York television producer Robert Meyrowitz had= th
e idea of=20 putting two martial arts experts from different disciplines into a ring and= th
rowing away the rule book.
So far Meyrowitz and other promoters have played a game of cat and mouse wi= th=20
local authorities, staging their “championships” on Indian reservations or = in=20
the few municipalities willing to turn a blind eye to what Lonnie Bristow, = a p ast president of the American Medical Association, called “blood-soaked, cr= ude
public spectacles”. So horrified have sports officials been by the rise of=
“t
otal fight ing” that two states have banned it entirely, while the athletic commission= s o f most others refuse to licence it.
In a move that will have the Marquess of Queensberry spinning in his grave,= ho
wever, New York recently passed a Bill legalising the modern variation on a= n a ge-old theme and clearing the way for the Manhattan event and another tourn= ame
nt scheduled for next month, to be regulated by the state’s athletic offici= als
.
Promoters hope the New York slugfests will help to establish their form of = “al
most-anything-goes” pugilism as a fully-fledged sport.
“This will be as big as boxing or bigger than boxing, it’s just a matter of= ti
me,” said Donald Zuckerman, whose Battlecade Productions will stage the Man= hat
tan contest. “A century ago boxing was illegal and now it is accepted every= whe
re. But it is a dying art form. There are 300 or 400 boxing gyms in the Uni= ted
States, but maybe 20 000 martial arts groups.”
Promoters of extreme fighting – each one has a slightly different name for = it=20
– believe they can exploit the surge of interest in martial arts by drawing= fi
ghters from the different Oriental disciplines, as well as from Western-sty= le=20
wrestling and boxing. At next month’s tournament at Niagara Falls, a Japane= se=20
judo champion will take on a Brazilian jujitsu star. Aficionados still talk= ab
out the de vastating kick to the head with which 13-time world kick-boxing champion Ma= uri
ce Smith felled Conan, the jujitsu expert at the last Battlecade contest.
“Studying for years and kicking punching bags doesn’t give you an idea of w= hat
you are capable of,” said Lewis, a 28-year-old jujitsu and judo expert who=
is
unbeaten in nine extreme fights. “This is the only way a fighter can actua=
lly
know how he really stands.”
His opponent in the March 28 event, 35-year-old former Olympic champion wr= est
ler Monday, offers a similar justification for taking up the sport. “What I= ‘m=20
most interested in is showing the world that wrestling is the greatest form= of
self-defence.”
There is also the small matter of cash, of course. Promoters are coy about = the
purses for specific fights, but Zuckerman says the total prize money is ty=
pic
ally about $200 000 for an eight-bout event, with the least-known fighters = ear
ning about $5 000 for a win. Unlike boxing, where the loser frequently stum= ble
s out of the ring after a few seconds several million dollars richer, there= ar
e no prize s for second in extreme fighting: “Our belief is that we are putting the pr= ize
back into prize-fighting.”
For promoters the prize is the millions in “pay-per-view” fees forked out f= or=20
the privilege of watching the fights on cable television. According to Meyr= owi
tz, between 100 000 and 200 000 cable television customers have stumped up = abo
ut $20 to watch each of his 14 events, while videos of the best fights have= so
ld briskly.
Promoters insist the sport’s violence is exaggerated by its critics. They p= oin
t out that eye-gouging, biting and kicks to the throat are all disallowed a= nd=20
that experienced boxing doctors are on hand to stop the fights if a combata= nt=20
is in danger of suffering a serious injury. While the 2m chain-link fence s= urr
ounding extreme fighting rings has been likened to a cage by some critics, = pro
moters say it is designed to prevent fighters hurting themselves by falling out of th=
e r ing.=20
And unlike other mainstream contact sports, such as boxing and American foo= tba
ll, they say, no one has ever been maimed or killed in an extreme fighting = eve
nt.
“If it’s barbaric, then boxing is more barbaric and auto racing should be t= ota
lly banned,” said Zuckerman, a former music business executive whose Battle= cad
e Productions is backed by porn king Bob Guccione. “Why is it barbaric for = two
adult athletes, both well trained in what they do, to try to defeat the ot=
her
person? Gladiatorial, perhaps. Barbaric, no.”
Many in New York are not convinced. The New York Times recently ran a withe= rin
g editorial asserting that “in a culture awash with violence, there is no n= eed
for another form of savagery as entertainment”. Mayor Rudolph Giuliani and=
st
ate governor George Pataki, who bizarrely signed the Bill legalising extrem= e f ighting in spite of his supposed distaste for it, have both pledged to try = to=20
have the N ew York events banned.
Meanwhile, Monday and Lewis are hard at work training for their encounter. = Sti
ll panting from his morning workout, Monday explains that he is following h= is=20
usual wrestling training routine and will begin practising punching next mo= nth
.
Though he has never been formally taught how to land a punch, he says he le= arn
t to use his fists “on the streets growing up”. He does not regard Lewis as= an
enemy, he insists. “When the bout is over, we’ll shake hands and go about =
our
business.”