When Gray Maynard clipped Frankie Edgar in round one of their UFC 136 bout, I had a feeling of déjà vu wash over me. No it wasn’t just the feeling of an overstuffed stomach engorged with ham and turkey from the thanksgiving feast I enjoyed earlier, this was a movie I had seen before. The second bout of their trilogy had started the same way, with Maynard clubbing Edgar in round one and the champion having to hold on for dear life in hopes of clearing the cobwebs between rounds. In the first fight Maynard had gassed himself out going for the finish and Edgar got on his bike and used precise footwork to hit and run his way to a draw (a fight I thought Edgar won). Edgar had shown great heart, gutting out that first round and leaving Las Vegas with his title.
It has taken a day and a half to recover from the swan song of Major League Baseball‘s regular season, and I pity those of you who dared watch anything else on Wednesday night. Real life drama will always trump scripted drama, and that night provided more twists than an M. Night Shyamalan movie marathon. Also these twists didn’t suck entirely like every Shyamalan flick post Sixth Sense (I guess they sucked if you were from “Bahston”).