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Before the Miocic vs Hunt fight, Robin Black put out a preview that was silly and overwrought even by Robin Black standards:
In the grainy black-and-white style of an old horror film, he portrayed the upcoming fight as “the Battle of the Behemoths”. To up the degree of difficulty/silliness in his task, he decided to describe the combatants as if they were characters from their respective ethnic group’s lore. For the Super Samoan, Robin ransacked mythology and settled on Ti‘i Ti‘i, the “Samoan Hercules,” as a fitting behemoth for Hunt to embody.
As for Miocic? Look, I’m Croatian and the only member of my entire family not born in the Old Country, and I didn’t even know we HAD any folkloric figures. But Robin managed to dredge up something called the Čudnovata (the name literally means “strange” or “weird”), a shape-shifting creature. He proceeded to talk about how Miocic adapts his style and game plan to suit every fighter he faces.
Curious, I did some Googling and eventually found what was probably his source material. But the more I read, the more I realized how Robin had misrepresented the essential nature of the Čudnovata. It didn’t use its shape shifting to vary its attack and/or defense. It wasn’t like the sea god Proteus wrestling with Hercules — or to use a more up-to-date mythological reference, the Wonder Twins.
The whole point of its shape shifting was camouflage. Because the strategy of the Čudnovata is...to look unexceptional.
If you came across one, you’d see something that you’d recognize from your everyday life. A neighbor. A dog. Your mom. You’d think nothing of it—except maybe it was odd you were seeing them at that moment (as in, “What is my mom doing at this lonely crossroads this time of night?). Only then might you think of looking carefully, and notice the only thing the Čudnovata can’t transform: its unnerving green eyes. But if you’re close enough to see the green of its eyes, you’re Too Damn Close...
So Robin Black got the story wrong (not unprecedented). But...maybe he didn’t?
What if Stipe’s secret weapon IS the same as the Čudnovata’s — the uncanny ability to downplay and obscure what he really is?
}} ––—————————––– ====== <<<<< { + } >>>>> ====== ––—————————––– {{
CONSIDER THE EVIDENCE OF HIS DECEPTIVENESS:
1. “He looks like that guy...”
When Stipe was featured in a scouting report on Bloody Elbow while he was still in regional MMA, a commenter quipped: “I don’t know why...But I hate Miocic’s guts already. Maybe it’s because he looks exactly like Michael Bisping?
”
That would be far from the last time he would physically remind people of somebody. Whole threads have been built around the phenomenon. It’s as if people literally can’t see him without seeing something else.
The Count remains a perennial comparison. (My favorite instance is the person who, inspired by the Cro Cop-ian shorts he wore early on, called Stipe “Mirko Bisping.”) Sometimes Josh Barnett is alluded to. Frequently though it’s not even a fighter, but an actor. Woody Harrelson. Joaquin Phoenix. That guy in the Warriors movie (“Warriors...come out and pla-ay!”). Lately, as age starts to settle in Miocic’s face, I’ve seen references to Robin Williams.
And nobody is scared at the concept of going into the cage with Mrs. Doubtfire. (Come to think of it, few are scared of going into the cage with Bisping, either. People come out of four years of inactivity just to fight him.)
2. “He doesn’t look like a heavyweight...”
We all know what heavyweights are supposed to look like: big and burly and popping with muscles, an action figure made flesh. (See: the forty thousand threads about Ngannou.) We also know what heavyweights usually look like: doughy masses that gas out during the second round.
Stipe stubbornly refuses to fit either archetype. His smooth musculature skims over his frame, which though large is basically normally proportioned. The bits that aren’t — his watermelon head, his legs somewhat short in proportion to his long torso — make the rest seem even smaller, like in an optical illusion. He gives the curious impression of being a lightweight or welterweight that got scaled up photographically. People literally can’t understand how he can be a heavyweight until they’re standing right in front of him:
Throw a sports coat over him, and he looks even more like an average Joe. Imagine these three people were lined up on “To Tell the Truth” and the panel had to guess the real current heavyweight champion:
They wouldn’t pick C even though he’s actually carrying the belt.
3. “And he certainly doesn’t act like a badass...”
We expect the Baddest Man on the Planet to not only be large, but to be larger than life. His aura should exert a force field that makes people give way like the Red Sea parted for Moses. You would think you’d tremble slightly in his presence, from the anxiety about unwittingly provoking his anger and your destruction.
That’s not Stipe’s vibe at all. He’s polite, down-to-earth and affable, his conversation regularly punctuated by a short self-deprecating laugh. He doesn’t keep himself aloof as Someone Special; he interacts with every stranger like they’re friends he just hasn’t met yet. And yet at the same time he doesn’t seek out the crowds and the buzz. As soon as the fight’s over he’s all too eager to get back to his house and his dogs and his nice little life. Cue: radio silence.
If it were just that, it’s possible that fans could read whatever they wanted into the silences, and cobble together a mythic figure regardless. (It worked for Fedor, didn’t it?) But...Stipe is also a goddamn goofball. A man whose coaches and best friends call a large 12 year old. A man not only capable of great silliness, but willing to post it on social media for all to see.
I can’t conceive of a more effective camo for badassery than tulle.
4. “He’s not that impressive a fighter...”
It’s a considerable feat of sleight-of-hand to turn in four consecutive first-round (T)KOs, in four consecutive Performance of the Night or Fight of the Night outings—in fact own the record for UFC bonuses awarded to a heavyweight, with eight—and still have people call your fighting meh. Yet Stipe pulls it off.
The problem is, he doesn’t indulge in flashy displays. No spamming spinning back kicks for him! He is, as he laughingly termed himself, a “basic bitch.” Unfortunately, a lot of people think of basics in terms of what novices learn, therefore they must be easy. They think the mark of someone elite is to move past such things. Ergo: Stipe must not be skilled.
But basics are basic not because they are simple, but because they are important. They are the basis on which everything rests. The fanciest seaside mansion is worthless if its foundation is faulty and it slides down the cliff. How many hot prospects come in and dazzle the onlookers until some opponent susses out a fundamental flaw and exposes them?
Mind you, Stipe wasn’t immune to having a prospect loss of his own that showed he needed to go back to the drawing board. To his credit he did, and came back far the better for it. In fact he hasn’t been finished since. But—the guy responsible for that loss was Struve.
He couldn’t have picked a longer shadow in which to hide. Too many people think you cannot be a good fighter if you have ever lost to Struve, QED and /thread.
}} ––—————————––– ====== <<<<< { + } >>>>> ====== ––—————————––– {{
The gift of being underestimated may not the talent most fighters would clamor to have. It certainly does Stipe no favors when it come to promotion and marketing, when people persist in seeing him as nothing special.
But opponents are people, too. And when your opponent underestimates you, he’s collaborating with you to engineer his defeat.
Before their fight, Werdum called Stipe an “incomplete” fighter, echoing his coach Cordeiro’s opinion that Stipe had good boxing but nothing else. He was already looking towards a rematch with Overeem. He was struck dumb to discover that Stipe could check his kicks, stop his TD and evade his clinches...not to mention wipe the trollsmirk off his face.
Before their fight, Overeem claimed (based on a couple of sightings whose importance he magnified by confirmation bias) that Stipe had gotten soft with the spoils of his title and that he himself was the “hungrier wolf.” (Strange then, that he ran like he was prey...) But when Stipe showed him that the best-laid plans of Jackson/Wink oft go astray, he foundered and folded within minutes.
Before their fight, JDS knew he could beat Stipe — hadn’t he done so once before? And it wouldn’t even be that close this time; Stipe had only fought “50% dos Santos” and now he was at full-strength. Well, he was 50% right —it wasn’t that close this time. He went from thinking “Man, it’s working; I’m going to win” straight to retrograde amnesia.
And Ngannou shows all the signs of taking Miocic lightly.
In the wake of Miocic’s walloping of JDS, while everybody else was sending their congratulations Francis was tweeting this:
In an interview on The MMA Hour, Ngannou said though Stipe is holding the belt, he is not the best heavyweight in the UFC. “I am not impressed with him. I am impressed with someone like Velasquez. I think he is the best heavyweight we have, and that’s why I want to fight him.” (Perhaps that’s why in another interview he referred to Stipe as “just the interim champion”—which implies he’s only one now because of another’s injury.)
In an interview with Karyn Bryant in November he intimated that his other fights would be as difficult or more so than a title shot against Stipe—for example, his upcoming one with Overeem. And we saw what he did with Overeem...
Of course, this could all be the standard operating bullshit fighters are being encouraged to spew these days in the name of “promotion.” But considering how lately Francis let on what his “dream match” is — ““I’d always like to see the match between me and Brock Lesnar. Two big dudes...I’m excited for that kind of match as a fan”— you can tell what he bases his standards on.
Maybe Ngannou is all his fans claim him to be. Maybe no one in the world is better than him. That still wouldn’t rule out him losing due to his own mistakes. And overlooking Miocic is, historically, a doozy of a one to make.
}} ––—————————––– ====== <<<<< { + } >>>>> ====== ––—————————––– {{
Ngannou’s nickname was coined back in the days when he wore his hair in a way that resembled the dreadlocks of the titular alien in the Predator movies. Even though he’s shorn them off, the name still sticks—after all, it’s the perfect PR imagery for an intimidating beast hunting for the title. The Predator was one scary-looking monster.
(And why shouldn’t it have been? Hollywood designers exploited every visual trick to make it so. Hollywood excels in the obvious image.)
The closest things to recognized nicknames Stipe has — Stone Cold and Stiopic — were coined by comedians. The first was ripped off from someone he kinda sounds like, and snowballed into the basis of a running gag. The second is literally a careless mispronunciation. A mistake!
Yet Stipe is a monster too. But like the Čudnovata, just not an obvious one. Only in brief bursts, when in full pursuit of its prey or in the moments after the kill, will the guard be let down enough to show the world plainly the nature of the beast:
And this is where Stipe’s talent for deception outrivals the Čudnovata’s. Because even after having seen his bestial form, you forget it almost instantly. And you go back to being fooled, and swearing that Stipe has no chance of winning...next time.
In the grainy black-and-white style of an old horror film, he portrayed the upcoming fight as “the Battle of the Behemoths”. To up the degree of difficulty/silliness in his task, he decided to describe the combatants as if they were characters from their respective ethnic group’s lore. For the Super Samoan, Robin ransacked mythology and settled on Ti‘i Ti‘i, the “Samoan Hercules,” as a fitting behemoth for Hunt to embody.
As for Miocic? Look, I’m Croatian and the only member of my entire family not born in the Old Country, and I didn’t even know we HAD any folkloric figures. But Robin managed to dredge up something called the Čudnovata (the name literally means “strange” or “weird”), a shape-shifting creature. He proceeded to talk about how Miocic adapts his style and game plan to suit every fighter he faces.
Curious, I did some Googling and eventually found what was probably his source material. But the more I read, the more I realized how Robin had misrepresented the essential nature of the Čudnovata. It didn’t use its shape shifting to vary its attack and/or defense. It wasn’t like the sea god Proteus wrestling with Hercules — or to use a more up-to-date mythological reference, the Wonder Twins.
The whole point of its shape shifting was camouflage. Because the strategy of the Čudnovata is...to look unexceptional.
If you came across one, you’d see something that you’d recognize from your everyday life. A neighbor. A dog. Your mom. You’d think nothing of it—except maybe it was odd you were seeing them at that moment (as in, “What is my mom doing at this lonely crossroads this time of night?). Only then might you think of looking carefully, and notice the only thing the Čudnovata can’t transform: its unnerving green eyes. But if you’re close enough to see the green of its eyes, you’re Too Damn Close...
So Robin Black got the story wrong (not unprecedented). But...maybe he didn’t?
What if Stipe’s secret weapon IS the same as the Čudnovata’s — the uncanny ability to downplay and obscure what he really is?
}} ––—————————––– ====== <<<<< { + } >>>>> ====== ––—————————––– {{
CONSIDER THE EVIDENCE OF HIS DECEPTIVENESS:
1. “He looks like that guy...”
When Stipe was featured in a scouting report on Bloody Elbow while he was still in regional MMA, a commenter quipped: “I don’t know why...But I hate Miocic’s guts already. Maybe it’s because he looks exactly like Michael Bisping?
” That would be far from the last time he would physically remind people of somebody. Whole threads have been built around the phenomenon. It’s as if people literally can’t see him without seeing something else.
The Count remains a perennial comparison. (My favorite instance is the person who, inspired by the Cro Cop-ian shorts he wore early on, called Stipe “Mirko Bisping.”) Sometimes Josh Barnett is alluded to. Frequently though it’s not even a fighter, but an actor. Woody Harrelson. Joaquin Phoenix. That guy in the Warriors movie (“Warriors...come out and pla-ay!”). Lately, as age starts to settle in Miocic’s face, I’ve seen references to Robin Williams.
And nobody is scared at the concept of going into the cage with Mrs. Doubtfire. (Come to think of it, few are scared of going into the cage with Bisping, either. People come out of four years of inactivity just to fight him.)
2. “He doesn’t look like a heavyweight...”
We all know what heavyweights are supposed to look like: big and burly and popping with muscles, an action figure made flesh. (See: the forty thousand threads about Ngannou.) We also know what heavyweights usually look like: doughy masses that gas out during the second round.
Stipe stubbornly refuses to fit either archetype. His smooth musculature skims over his frame, which though large is basically normally proportioned. The bits that aren’t — his watermelon head, his legs somewhat short in proportion to his long torso — make the rest seem even smaller, like in an optical illusion. He gives the curious impression of being a lightweight or welterweight that got scaled up photographically. People literally can’t understand how he can be a heavyweight until they’re standing right in front of him:
Throw a sports coat over him, and he looks even more like an average Joe. Imagine these three people were lined up on “To Tell the Truth” and the panel had to guess the real current heavyweight champion:
They wouldn’t pick C even though he’s actually carrying the belt.
3. “And he certainly doesn’t act like a badass...”
We expect the Baddest Man on the Planet to not only be large, but to be larger than life. His aura should exert a force field that makes people give way like the Red Sea parted for Moses. You would think you’d tremble slightly in his presence, from the anxiety about unwittingly provoking his anger and your destruction.
That’s not Stipe’s vibe at all. He’s polite, down-to-earth and affable, his conversation regularly punctuated by a short self-deprecating laugh. He doesn’t keep himself aloof as Someone Special; he interacts with every stranger like they’re friends he just hasn’t met yet. And yet at the same time he doesn’t seek out the crowds and the buzz. As soon as the fight’s over he’s all too eager to get back to his house and his dogs and his nice little life. Cue: radio silence.
If it were just that, it’s possible that fans could read whatever they wanted into the silences, and cobble together a mythic figure regardless. (It worked for Fedor, didn’t it?) But...Stipe is also a goddamn goofball. A man whose coaches and best friends call a large 12 year old. A man not only capable of great silliness, but willing to post it on social media for all to see.
I can’t conceive of a more effective camo for badassery than tulle.
4. “He’s not that impressive a fighter...”
It’s a considerable feat of sleight-of-hand to turn in four consecutive first-round (T)KOs, in four consecutive Performance of the Night or Fight of the Night outings—in fact own the record for UFC bonuses awarded to a heavyweight, with eight—and still have people call your fighting meh. Yet Stipe pulls it off.
The problem is, he doesn’t indulge in flashy displays. No spamming spinning back kicks for him! He is, as he laughingly termed himself, a “basic bitch.” Unfortunately, a lot of people think of basics in terms of what novices learn, therefore they must be easy. They think the mark of someone elite is to move past such things. Ergo: Stipe must not be skilled.
But basics are basic not because they are simple, but because they are important. They are the basis on which everything rests. The fanciest seaside mansion is worthless if its foundation is faulty and it slides down the cliff. How many hot prospects come in and dazzle the onlookers until some opponent susses out a fundamental flaw and exposes them?
Mind you, Stipe wasn’t immune to having a prospect loss of his own that showed he needed to go back to the drawing board. To his credit he did, and came back far the better for it. In fact he hasn’t been finished since. But—the guy responsible for that loss was Struve.
He couldn’t have picked a longer shadow in which to hide. Too many people think you cannot be a good fighter if you have ever lost to Struve, QED and /thread.
}} ––—————————––– ====== <<<<< { + } >>>>> ====== ––—————————––– {{
The gift of being underestimated may not the talent most fighters would clamor to have. It certainly does Stipe no favors when it come to promotion and marketing, when people persist in seeing him as nothing special.
But opponents are people, too. And when your opponent underestimates you, he’s collaborating with you to engineer his defeat.
Before their fight, Werdum called Stipe an “incomplete” fighter, echoing his coach Cordeiro’s opinion that Stipe had good boxing but nothing else. He was already looking towards a rematch with Overeem. He was struck dumb to discover that Stipe could check his kicks, stop his TD and evade his clinches...not to mention wipe the trollsmirk off his face.
Before their fight, Overeem claimed (based on a couple of sightings whose importance he magnified by confirmation bias) that Stipe had gotten soft with the spoils of his title and that he himself was the “hungrier wolf.” (Strange then, that he ran like he was prey...) But when Stipe showed him that the best-laid plans of Jackson/Wink oft go astray, he foundered and folded within minutes.
Before their fight, JDS knew he could beat Stipe — hadn’t he done so once before? And it wouldn’t even be that close this time; Stipe had only fought “50% dos Santos” and now he was at full-strength. Well, he was 50% right —it wasn’t that close this time. He went from thinking “Man, it’s working; I’m going to win” straight to retrograde amnesia.
And Ngannou shows all the signs of taking Miocic lightly.
In the wake of Miocic’s walloping of JDS, while everybody else was sending their congratulations Francis was tweeting this:
In an interview on The MMA Hour, Ngannou said though Stipe is holding the belt, he is not the best heavyweight in the UFC. “I am not impressed with him. I am impressed with someone like Velasquez. I think he is the best heavyweight we have, and that’s why I want to fight him.” (Perhaps that’s why in another interview he referred to Stipe as “just the interim champion”—which implies he’s only one now because of another’s injury.)
In an interview with Karyn Bryant in November he intimated that his other fights would be as difficult or more so than a title shot against Stipe—for example, his upcoming one with Overeem. And we saw what he did with Overeem...
Of course, this could all be the standard operating bullshit fighters are being encouraged to spew these days in the name of “promotion.” But considering how lately Francis let on what his “dream match” is — ““I’d always like to see the match between me and Brock Lesnar. Two big dudes...I’m excited for that kind of match as a fan”— you can tell what he bases his standards on.
Maybe Ngannou is all his fans claim him to be. Maybe no one in the world is better than him. That still wouldn’t rule out him losing due to his own mistakes. And overlooking Miocic is, historically, a doozy of a one to make.
}} ––—————————––– ====== <<<<< { + } >>>>> ====== ––—————————––– {{
Ngannou’s nickname was coined back in the days when he wore his hair in a way that resembled the dreadlocks of the titular alien in the Predator movies. Even though he’s shorn them off, the name still sticks—after all, it’s the perfect PR imagery for an intimidating beast hunting for the title. The Predator was one scary-looking monster.
(And why shouldn’t it have been? Hollywood designers exploited every visual trick to make it so. Hollywood excels in the obvious image.)
The closest things to recognized nicknames Stipe has — Stone Cold and Stiopic — were coined by comedians. The first was ripped off from someone he kinda sounds like, and snowballed into the basis of a running gag. The second is literally a careless mispronunciation. A mistake!
Yet Stipe is a monster too. But like the Čudnovata, just not an obvious one. Only in brief bursts, when in full pursuit of its prey or in the moments after the kill, will the guard be let down enough to show the world plainly the nature of the beast:
And this is where Stipe’s talent for deception outrivals the Čudnovata’s. Because even after having seen his bestial form, you forget it almost instantly. And you go back to being fooled, and swearing that Stipe has no chance of winning...next time.
