Chuck Liddell (right) vs. Wanderlei Silva | Sherdog.com

Jeff Sherwood/Sherdog.com

Many fans and pundits alike saw

Jeremy Horn as a serious threat.

When I originally wrote this piece, it was September 2008. Re-reading the words and recalling my feelings while writing it, it might as well be two decades ago.On the eve of UFC 88 (hence the eight parts to the article), I truly thought that an undersized light heavyweight with questionable offensive firepower like Rashad Evans would be a fairly good opponent for Liddell, who in his sensational bout with Wanderlei Silva eight months earlier, seemed like he still had a considerable amount of the gameness that made him one of MMA’s most beloved and accomplished fighters.That instance, just over two years ago, was by and large the last time the MMA world saw Chuck Liddell as “The Iceman.” Though time eventually beats down all men, I never would have anticipated that two years later, Liddell would be on the receiving end of three back-to-back-to-back crushing knockouts.However, in spite of the ignominious end to his fighting career and whatever successes may come as the UFC's executive vice president of business development, Liddell will always be remembered for being the true superstar of MMA's most historically star-laden weight class, and becoming the sport’s first true rockstar persona, a man whose exploits earned attention from both ESPN and TMZ.These are the moments of greatness that made Liddell an MMA icon; the fights that launched a million mohawks.In 2002, we were in the middle of the first Belfort rehabilitation tour. After embarrassing and deflating losses to Randy Couture and Kazushi Sakuraba , Belfort had seemingly matured in the fight game and was still only 25 years old. It was supposed to be his time (for real, this time), and he was thus slated to meet light heavyweight kingpin Tito Ortiz at both UFC 33 and 36 before injuries nixed the respective bouts. In the meantime, Liddell had quietly piled up victories of his own, and as Ortiz began to embrace his poster-boy persona and shirk in-cage duties, it left a Liddell-Belfort title eliminator as the obvious solution.Aided by Fox Sports Net and “The Best Damn Sports Show Period,” which aired the fight three days later, the bout was the most cautious of the ad-hoc promotional vehicle known as UFC 37.5, which largely featured Octagon neophytes. However, the fight did showcase the technical and tactical side of Liddell, who put his now famous cage-crawl takedown defense on display vividly in the first round.Even if the most memorable moment of the affair was the wild, winging right hook that sent Belfort to the canvas with 90 seconds to go, Liddell's ability to take over the fight was dictated by an acute sense of distance created with low kicks and straight punches. Not epic fight material to be sure, but a major win in Liddell's career that highlighted the finer technical points of his game rather than the sizzling KO power he's become acclaimed for.You would be hard-pressed to find a seasoned MMA fan who would admit to having taken Horn against Liddell. Amidst Horn's current spell of disinterested doldrums and with hindsight being so crystal clear, such a prefight prognostication would seem farfetched. However, a considerable contingent in MMA, even if they will lie about it now, thought that Horn could pose serious problems for the newly minted champ.In spite of Liddell’s title triumph over Randy Couture only four months earlier, some fans and pundits had begun to pigeonhole "The Iceman" as a willfully one-dimensional fighter. Many figured that the submission-slick Horn, who had never been knocked out, had the skills to outlast and outwit Liddell on the mat as he had in their first encounter six years earlier.Instead, Horn was bruised and abused over a woefully lopsided opening 10 minutes that featured two nasty near-finishes.Liddell's major weapons early in the fight were actually straight (at least by his standards) punches from inside the pocket rather than long-range, looping artillery. More impressive still, in the wake of Dana White's infamous "following the game plan" rant that has become a full-scale MMA meme, Liddell showed sober strategy in fighting a conservative third round, only to come out firing in the fourth and halt Horn, who told referee "Big" John McCarthy he could no longer see.Liddell's one-sided avenging of his first loss was an early indicator of his title reign ahead, even if those who had backed Horn will never admit it.Much of Liddell's ability to transcend the sport itself and become a pop culture icon can be traced to his physical packaging. The distinctive Mohawk and mustache combo, the head tattoo and the killer's stare all richly contribute to a seemingly violent veneer that is the exact example of how the public would expect an MMA ambassador to look.Beyond the world of posters and promotion, however, Liddell has secured his stature in the sport by embodying the non-superficial essence of prizefighting with an anyone-anywhere-anytime mantra -- an attitude exemplified by his first bout with “Babalu.”Already installed as the UFC’s top 205-pound contender to then-incumbent king Tito Ortiz , Liddell voluntarily chose to take on the ever-tough and well-traveled “Babalu” rather than rest on his laurels and wait for the elusive Ortiz. The fight was more a favor to Liddell from Zuffa than vice versa, and although he was a rightful favorite, a Liddell loss on the main card of the biggest event the promotion had staged to that point would've been relatively disastrous.Just inside the three-minute mark of the first round, Liddell thwarted Sobral's attempt to play spoiler, putting his left shin across the Brazilian's mug in brutal fashion. While he would replicate his victory over Sobral in their August 2006 rematch in a mere 95 seconds, Liddell's display of his down-for-whatever disposition and a highlight reel KO he'll be reaping royalties from forever make their first encounter the more memorable.