REMEMBERING RANDY

by Jake Rossen

At the dais during the press conference following UFC 31, Pedro Rizzo spoke with the deliberate monotone of someone choking back disappointment. He had just dropped a controversial decision to Randy Couture in an Atlantic City arena; the UFC heavyweight title had eluded him once again.

Midway through the post-fight speeches, Couture came ambling into the reception area. His face was blackened and bore the signs of an altercation, but it was his gait that drew all the attention.

He could barely walk. Rizzo’s leg kicks had peppered him throughout the five-round bout; his bruised, afflicted muscles resisted the journey of a few feet to the podium.

As he shuffled to a chair, the hundreds of people collected in the room — press, fans, fighters, training partners — stared in silence at his hobbled body, the true price of combat snapping into focus. Then they burst into applause, swelling with compassion for a man that encapsulated everything they loved about the sport: gamesmanship, heart, honor, and class.

That applause, which began in 2001, hasn’t stopped since.

In an era where “extreme” athletes ruled, Couture was the antidote, a fighter with a businesslike approach to competition. Try and coax a contentious quote from him and he was more likely to laugh it off than utter a single profanity.

Observing mainstream press barking about the brutality of fighting became tolerable when Couture appeared to smother the argument. He was soft-spoken and genteel outside the ring — inside, a perpetual spoiler. It wasn’t his skills — honed in a lifetime of wrestling — which made him an underdog. It was his age.

Already 34 when he made his debut in 1997, Couture was initially perceived as a game grappler who would inevitably fade when it came time to perform against the coming generation of cross-trained athletes. Fellow wrestlers Dan Severn and Mark Coleman were already seeing their auras of invincibility growing dim. Though Couture had handled rookies Tony Halme and Steven Graham in a tournament, things looked bleak against the looming Vitor Belfort (Pictures).

At the time Couture faced Belfort, the Brazilian had buzzed through a UFC tournament like a chainsaw, utilizing the reflexes in his 19-year-old frame to stun both opponents and observers alike. He decimated Tank Abbott at a time when the burly bar patron would, at the very least, give elite fighters Hell.

In short, he was far removed from the inconsistent Vitor of today. Fighting Couture seemed like a formality en route to a title bout.

Not quite.

Couture not only out-grappled Belfort, he out-struck him — undeterred in the least by Belfort’s prior showings. By the end of the night, Belfort was a crumpled mess in the corner of the cage. Couture, smiling broadly, had little else to complain about beyond a torn pair of shorts.

That showing led to his first shot at a title opposite the equally crafty Maurice Smith. By evening’s end, 20 minutes’ worth of effort garnered him the heavyweight strap. Unhappy over his compensation with SEG at the helm, he bounced overseas before returning to the UFC in 2000 to face Kevin Randleman .

Superficially, Couture was in trouble yet again. Now 37, he would be forced to face the fast-twitch muscle fibers of Randleman, who had yet to encounter anyone in the UFC that could dictate the position of the fight against him.

With the promotion debuting in New Jersey, East Coast fans saw Couture out-wrestle the younger athlete and pummel him for a stoppage. He had pulled off the neat trick of becoming a two-time heavyweight champion without ever having lost the belt.

Two bouts with Rizzo followed, the first a grueling decision victory that had Couture overcome Rizzo’s devastating striking. The second bout saw Couture score a stoppage. Now 39, and severely outweighed, he struggled against Josh Barnett and Ricco Rodriguez , dropping stoppages to both.

Concurrently, Chuck Liddell star was rising in the light heavyweight division. He had scored several impressive knockouts, and a showdown with champion Tito Ortiz looked imminent. Ortiz suddenly developed contractual beefs, forcing the UFC to create an interim title. Couture was welcome to drop weight. And for the umpteenth time, event previews read more like obituaries for the elder statesman.

Hovering around 40, Couture was to test his mettle against an unorthodox striker who had terrific takedown defense. The fight was tailor-made for Liddell to nab a belt. With Couture fans peeking through their fingers, he out-struck the striker (yet again), scoring a third round stoppage and his third championship belt.

The Cinderella story was scheduled to end with Tito Ortiz , a steamrolling wrestler who seemed destined to out-hustle Couture.

Younger by over a decade, Ortiz had handled Vladimir Matyushenko , himself a decorated wrestler. To observe the bout, with a brash Ortiz being “spanked” by the grizzled veteran in a one-sided loss, was to enjoy the ultimate triumph of substance over style.

So credible was Couture’s surge of success at a late date that fans began to express bewilderment when comparably aged athletes couldn’t do the same.

Of course they can’t.

Couture sprinting past Father Time is a unique achievement in a sport where reflexes, wind, and a brain young enough to absorb information are crucial. If everyone could do what Couture did, then he wouldn’t be Couture.

And with his attitude, “The Natural” completed a puzzle. With fighters like Ortiz and Nick Diaz busy scowling and throwing insults, he embodied respect and maturity. Opponents weren’t enemies, they were peers deserving of a handshake and a wink before a bout and a respectful embrace after.

Couture didn’t strut to the ring. He marched, saluting the crowd all the while. He was an avatar of integrity, discipline, and hard work.

To see him bloodied at the hands of Liddell is, at first glance, a sad denouement to his career. But to really know Couture is to understand that it’s the only way it could’ve ended. If Couture had defeated Liddell, he would’ve almost certainly continued on in an attempt to satiate his competitive spirit.

Instead, Couture is free to do what he so richly deserves: sit back, relax, and enjoy the spoils of a near-decade in a sport he helped form. Under the house lights of Las Vegas, he brought thousands of spectators to their feet, inspiring them to greater personal limits. His success made anything seem possible.

To Randy Couture , biological fugitive. Time finally caught up to him Saturday night, but he gave it one Hell of a chase.