free and clear.” Despite the ominous potential that this revelation has to derail all his hard work, Foran is relatively calm, probably because of his insurance policy. He reiterates it more for his own comfort than for my edification. “The contract states that if he’s injured then our doctor has to evaluate him and clear him. Otherwise he’s still bound to show up and fight. It’s fucking ironclad.”
     What a blow. To think that everything you’ve worked for could be flushed down the toilet by a kid who makes decision under the advisement of Mickey Mouse is unthinkable. But that wasn’t the whole story.
     “He wants to fight in Japan,” Foran says.
     “At the Dream tournament?”
     “Yeah. It’s a featherweight tournament and I think he’s ducking us so he can fight there. But I tell you what,” his “pissed off meter” was pegging out. “If he does that’s just going to give us more ammunition to go after him in court.” Suddenly I wasn’t worried for Foran and the UWC. I was concerned for how badly Chase Beebe was going to be raped in court and join the unemployed after Foran got through with him. Beebe was The Graduate scorning a giant Misses Robinson. But for all his anger, it wasn’t the monetary success of UWC 5 that spiked Foran’s blood pressure, but rather its credibility. Over and over again he’d spoken of building the UWC’s credibility by surrounding the show with people of integrity. Now that was being jeopardized by a kid who probably had all of his friends saying, “fuck those guys, dude. You can do better in Asia.”
     Passing up a headlining fight that was going to be streamed live on Sherdog in favor of a sparsely-seen event in Japan seemed as smart as challenging Aaron Burr to a duel. Three years ago it might have been a good call, but this was a new day in MMA. Beebe was blowing off businessmen, not frat boys trying to make beer money, and worse yet he was destroying his own reliability. In a sport where toughness is common, respect is one of the few characteristics that sets guys apart. Snubbing a show on such a grand scale amounted to careericide.
     Fortunately Beebe’s level-headed managers balanced out his poor decision-making ability. Former UFC welterweight king and Toyo Tires spokesperson Matt Hughes made a few phone calls and suddenly one of his boys, Justin Robbins, filled in. In a snap he was on a plane to DC to headline a fight. Here’s a tip to you gym rats out there-stay ready. You never know when a payday will fall in your lap.

The Fights

     The VIP lounge was first rate. Not that I have anything to compare it to, but when you offer people free booze and catered food in a private lounge before a fight, it’s hard to find any fault in it. I threw on my oversized VIP badge and thanked the journalism Gods for this assignment.
     The first fight started late. Not surprising, but what seemed very out of place was Marcello laying a few profanities on a guy with a box. “Just reuse them!” he barked and the guy with the box disappeared. I didn’t even have to ask.
     “Someone stole gloves,” he offered up as he sat back down in his chair next to the cage. I clearly didn’t get the point, so he continued.
     “We ordered eighteen pairs of gloves for the eighteen...