Those in charge at the UFC were probably giddy Saturday during and after Jon Jones’ one-sided mashing of Mauricio Rua — seeing as how this good-looking, well-spoken, fast-rising 23-year-old seized the light heavyweight belt hours after seizing a thief.

Jones was scary-good, in a very literal sense.

Those in the audience who, to that point, were relatively uninitiated or unfamiliar with Mr. Jones may have been startled by the ease with which the young man battered a veteran superstar at UFC 128. His Matrix mixture of offense never seemed to drop a hint as to where it would next originate.

But, even to those who follow the sport consistently, Jones’ performance was frightening — not only because he pulled it off despite youth and comparative inexperience, but because it could actually lead a viewer to fear for the safety of the man standing amidst his blazing attack.

At least that’s the way I felt, for the first time as an MMA fan.

As “Bones” teed off on “Shogun” through the 12-minute encounter, I shifted in my seat. It's not like I was trembling, but I found myself uncomfortably concerned for “Shogun” while Jones acted as a buzz saw of flying limbs.

As Rua's face puffed up, as he staggered around the octagon, I hoped for a merciful end. I wanted it to be over for Rua, not just so Jones could begin what might be a lengthy reign as the youngest champ in the promotion's history, but also because I didn’t want to see him badly hurt by this upstanding phenom who somehow balances a quiet nature with unrelenting violence.

During my time as a follower of the sport, I've been impressed with physical dominance. Awed by powerful knockouts. Brought to my feet by stunning conclusions. Concerned for the well-being of an unconscious fighter. Empathetic toward a horribly beaten man.

But I had never been afraid for a professional fighter, especially a respected champion with terrific skills that could, it seemed, match or defend those of any man.

Strange feeling, as a fight fan: not rooting for one or the other, but simply hoping that an overmatched participant is not harmed too badly.

Jones appears to be different from most fighters we've seen, and the UFC is ready to bank on it. His fusion of aggressiveness, creativity, size, speed and power make him highly dangerous for any man in the world.

It's apparently OK to say that now, even though we might've already been thinking that as the UFC carefully brought him up, so as not to see the early fizzle of a possible supernova.

Jones (13-1) wasn't even supposed to get this title shot so soon, but Rashad Evans got injured. Until six weeks ago, when Jones crushed Ryan Bader, another up-and-coming 205-pounder, many were still hesitant to place him on the fast-track to title contention. Why, I still don't know. The weight class isn't overflowing with prospects or threatening contenders who generate buzz, while Jones faced little trouble in building his resume and destroying every opponent (even in his lone loss, a DQ to Matt Hamill) with panache.

Then, moments after his title win, Jones' name was being mentioned alongside Muhammad Ali and Michael Jordan. Of course, this happens from time to time because our society is perpetually on the prowl for “the next” iconic talent and is fond of rushing to make comparisons.

Heck, media types are already floating the notion that...