In the late 90s, MMA and the UFC were up against it. John McCain’s crusade against “human cock-fighting” had resulted in the sport’s being banned in 36 states and a precipitous decline in revenue. In response the UFC decided it was time to shake off its “no rules” reputation and make its way toward something like mainstream acceptance, cozying up to state athletic commissions and implementing rules designed to do away with some of MMA”s more “barbaric” elements. UFC 12 on February 7, 1997, in Dothan, Alabama (which took place the night after New York banned MMA) was the first UFC event of this new, “enlightened” era. The event saw the establishment of weight classes and the crowning of the promotion’s first-ever heavyweight champion.

A new age had begun. The age of rules. And the age of wrestlers.

Dan Severn was one of these wrestlers--a highly decorated NCAA Greco-Roman grappler who had joined the promotion for UFC 4 and smashed and grappled his through the competition until being stopped by Royce Gracie in the tournament finals. Severn would come back, though, winning the UFC 5 tournament in 1995 and the Ultimate Ultimate tournament later that same year. After fighting in Brazil and Japan in 1996, the 6'2" 250-pound fighter returned to the UFC for an opportunity to become the UFC's first heavyweight champion.

He would face Mark Coleman, another wrestler who had made the transition from amateur grappling to MMA. Coleman's legacy goes far beyond a single fight. A participant in the 1992 Olympic games, he is often called the “godfather” of what we now call ground-and-pound. It was generally umderstood at the time that wrestlers could get takedowns, secure position, and control where the fight took place, but that was about it. But Coleman was able to merge those grappling techniques with striking on the ground to create a whole new way of doing things. His nickname, “The Hammer,” stems from his pioneering use of hammer fists. These days everyone knows how to ground-and-pound, but back in 1997 Mark Coleman was a visionary.

While both Coleman and Severn went on to make a huge impact on the evolution of MMA, the fight itself was a brief affair. After squaring off and exchanging some glancing strikes, the fighters hit the mat. Securing top control and never relinquishing it, Coleman applied a neck crank and forced the much larger Severn to tap out in just under three minutes. There is something primal about UFC fights from those early days, something animalistic. With limited technique and few rules, one's willpower was often the difference between glory and defeat. Coleman's veins nearly burst at his temples as he squeezed his crank, and Severn's hands, clawing at Coleman's face, betrayed his body slipping into survival mode.

In parallel heavyweight competition, there was a four-man tournament that is most notable today for featuring the UFC debut of Vitor Belfort, who is still a star for the promotion nearly 20 years later. With just 12 seconds of pro MMA experience (a KO win) to his name, the “young dinosaur” cut an imposing figure, with bulging muscles and super-fast hands.

Weighing in at 205 pounds, Belfort crushed his first round opponent, Tra Telligman, in 1:17, first tagging Telligman in the standup then securing top control and landing continuous elbows to the head and face, cutting the Texan badly and forcing a TKO.

In the other semifinal bout, Scott Ferrozzo gave us a glimpse into why we have both rules and weigh classes today. His fight against Jim Mullen looked like Dana White’s worst nightmare. Using a huge weight advantage, the 328-pound Ferrozzo got his opponent to the ground, pinned him against the cage, grabbed the cage for leverage, and dropped a series of knees directly onto Mullen's face.

In the finals, fans were treated to a Pride-style freakshow fight between Ferrozzo and Belfort. As the much-bigger Ferrozzo charged forward in the opening seconds, Belfort caught him coming in, and suddenly the 123-pound weight difference became Ferrozzo's undoing. With his foe falling forward, Belfort took back control and landed strikes that would make one cringe today. Punches and elbows aimed directly to the back of Ferrozzo's head brought an end to the fight at 43 seconds.

In a peculiar finish to the bout, Ferrozzo didn't realize that John McCarthy had called for the bell and leapt up grabbing a single leg, trying to turn the tide. The drama and genuine concern during those seconds of struggle are truly captivating to see. McCarthy and two other ringside officials formed a human net and pinned Ferrozzo against the fence, shouting for him to stop while Belfort ran to his corner in wild celebration.

The old fights were truly captivating affairs. Somehow the level of danger was higher than it is today. Multiple fights in one night, huge weight disparities, and the single-round format meant that once a fight started, it wasn't going to end until someone was incapable of fighting any more. The old days are dead. Long live the old days.

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"The Prodigy" BJ Penn

Meet Georges St-Pierre

Frankie Edgar Comes Back From the Brink