CM Punk to the UFC - 'No we're not being Punked'

No we’re not being 'Punked', Phil Brooks aka CM Punk has signed a deal to fight for the UFC.

The organisation announced the news as part of the UFC 181 broadcast, catching most by surprise.

Punk made an appearance on good friend Colt Cabana’s podcast last week and although he firmly closed the door on a return to the WWE, he didn’t give the indication that this announcement would occur just days later.

Now that the initial shock has dispersed fans are coming out divided over the signing.

It is a strange one, but I’m excited by it and certainly wish Punk well.

Naturally fans are comparing Punk to current WWE Heavyweight Champion and former UFC Heavyweight Champion Brock Lesnar.

Lesnar entered the Octagon with a fair pedigree behind him, being the NCAA Heavyweight champion and has since said he would have joined the UFC over WWE initially, had the UFC been as prominent as it is today way back when.

‘The Beast’ certainly wasn’t handled with care upon his entry to the UFC, being matched with former champion Frank Mir on debut.

Lesnar was probably used as a ‘sacrificial lamb’ in some respects by UFC President Dana White, at least until he realised that Brock could actually fight and the UFC could make a hell of a lot of money out of it.

Brock Lesnar’s PPV numbers were more than impressive; in fact the two biggest selling UFC Pay-Per-Views of all time had him in the main event.

Just like Lesnar brought over a tonne of wrestling fans, Punk will do the same.

The fact he has 2.1 million followers on Twitter alone, shows his value, coupled with the fact his podcast with Colt Cabana, where he broke his silence over why he left the WWE, virtually broke the internet last week.

Now he’s probably not going to win a UFC title and perhaps not even fight a ‘big name’ fighter, and it may all go horribly wrong.

But I’ll pay my $50 to see it, and frankly that’s all that matters.

There are a lot of questions that need answering.

Can he actually fight? Well that’s to be seen.

He doesn’t come from a fighting background, but there is somewhat of a base.

Punk has been training in Jiu-jitsu for years with Rener Gracie, has a Kempo background and has had an exposure to Muay Thai.

It may be ‘fake’ in WWE, but he certainly has the right idea behind all of his kicks, knees and elbows.

Another question, Can he take a punch?

We all saw what a weakness it was for Lesnar and you just can’t be one dimensional in the UFC. You don’t have to be perfect everywhere, but you’ve got to at least offer something in a few areas, with decent striking, ground game and solid defence.

As someone who stepped into the boxing ring a few years ago, with no prior experience, I have to say I understand the motivation. I’d followed boxing for years, covered the sport as a journalist and hit the pads, but jumping in between the ropes was a dream and it’s something I’d love to do again.

For the record, I wasn’t very good and I technically lost my debut, thanks judges, but I loved it. I found I could take a decent shot, and I took several, but the experience was the ultimate challenge and I’m glad I did it.  

But you just don’t know whether ‘it’ is in you until you do it. You don’t know whether you’ve got the chin until it’s tested and you don’t know whether you’ve got the heart for it, until it’s required.

For taking up the challenge, Punk has my respect and there’s certainly no bigger challenge than the UFC.

The final question, Will his body hold up?

He is 36-years-old and has been riddled with injuries throughout his professional wrestling career. He has significant wear and tear on his body and MMA is a very unforgiving sport.

Only time will answer that one.

The organisation has been criticised in some parts and classed as ‘selling out’ for signing the former professional wrestler, but if the UFC hadn’t signed Punk, someone else would have, most likely their rival promotion Bellator.

Why give your rival an opportunity, that’s guaranteed to make money and bring new eyes on your product?

UFC president Dana White has already said that Punk will be fighting guys of similar experience, those with perhaps a couple of fights or less. This in itself is new to the UFC, with most fighters building their resume in other lesser known promotions before being given an opportunity by the premier mixed martial arts promotion.

If White wanted to make an example out of Punk or wanted him to ‘earn’ his opportunity, he would have made him go through the Ultimate Fighter, as he made ‘Internet Sensation’ Kimbo Slice.

The fact he hasn’t, gives you an indication of the level of opponent Punk will be afforded. White is a smart business man. He knows the box office draw that Punk will be, why set him up to fail on the first outing, when you have a multiple fight contract that will make both parties a lot of money.

Punk now has six months to train and learn as much as he can, although there’s only so much you can learn in that time, as he looks at a June 2015 debut.  

Whatever comes to pass, I’m looking forward to watching it unfold and there will be millions of other fight fans along for the ride with me. 

Follow Adam on Twitter here. 

Finding my voice - The long road to superstardom

How was your Friday?  I assume your day was a little different to mine.

My working day started at 7am at the Newcastle Herald offices. I’ve come in to work a couple of hours early to ensure the boss has no issues with me skipping out a little prematurely in the afternoon.

I’m off to Sydney to call the Australian Lightweight Title fight between Robert Toomey and George ‘ Ferocious’ Kambosos at Club Punchbowl later that evening.

I’m meant to arrive at 6pm, which means I have to be out on the road by at least 3:30pm.

The early mark means I don’t take a lunchbreak, but it helps me get on the road on time and off on my journey.

I begin my journey to Club Punchbowl, a route I’ve taken previously, which is a 2.5 hour drive, on a good day.

Today is not a good day.

It’s wet, conditions are tricky and I need everything to fall nicely into place.

Radio reports tell me that there’s a breakdown ahead, great! There’s a slight delay, but I get off the highway relatively on track and I’m now facing the dreaded Pennant Hills Rd.

It’s a slog and I’ve hit it smack bang on 5pm, but fortunately it’s not too bad and I’m still on target.

Another delay at Lidcombe almost brings me unstuck, but I pull into Rickard Rd McDonald’s at Bankstown with minutes to spare.

I swallow the only thing I’ll have eaten since a 6.30am Banana in the five minute drive to Club Punchbowl and walk through the doors of the event at 6.05pm.

Job done. Everything has gone to plan.

Or has it.

The man behind the live stream I’m working on can’t get the audio equipment to work.

“Do you know how to work this stuff? I’m not used to this equipment,” he tells me.

 I’ve setup similar operations during my time calling sport on community radio, so I try my best to help. I turn on the power switch ( YES!) and fiddle around with the different buttons and switches, testing, hypothesising, testing again.

After half an hour of fiddling, I’m handed an instruction book.

“See if this helps” the man says.

It didn’t.

Long story short, the commentary didn’t happen.

The man in charge ended the search for microphone volume with this line.

“I’m more interested in getting these cameras right, I don’t really care about the commentary.”

Awesome.

So I bite my tongue, pickup my notebook, containing the research I’d spent three nights working on, find a seat at ringside and enjoy the event.

The promoter comes over, apologises and hands me $100 for my trouble. It’s quite a bit less than what I was meant to make, but I appreciate the gesture.

He’s a friend and he couldn’t be more apologetic. It’s not his fault.  

The funny thing is, it’s not the worst story I have to tell.

That would be the time I called a National Youth League match in Gosford, between the Central Coast Mariners and the Perth Glory.

I arrived in the commentary box to find that the council had ripped out all the phone lines during the week, meaning we couldn’t connect our audio gear as required to get the broadcast back to 6RPH in Perth.

So, I called the game with my IPhone on speaker, with a co-commentator sitting alongside. 

There are plenty of other stories too, but it’s all apart of the crazy ride I started on when I began life in the media as an 18-year-old.

So far it’s taken me to Koori Radio, 2SSRFM, Network Ten, Greater Western Sydney GIANTS, Gold Coast Titans, Newcastle Herald and hundreds of commentary gigs across the country.

It’s cost me friends, I’ve missed people’s weddings, and it’s cost me relationships.

Apparently calling a football match for free on a Saturday night instead of spending time with your girlfriend is not on. 

I’ve stalked, harassed and networked with all the right people and I don’t know how many times I’ve heard the line – “Keep getting experience”

If only they knew.  

There’s times when I think of packing it in, but then I realise that everything I’ve put in over the last nine years would be for nothing.

I’m starting to book commentary gigs with more regularity and all the right people know I exist, well at least I hope they do.

I’ve peppered their emails and post boxes that often over the last few years; they should know I’m around.

 I occasionally get allowed into commentary boxes at different events and get the chance to see the ‘pro’s’ do their work.

I sit quietly at the back, scribble some notes and generally stay out of the way.

It sure looks easy.

Maybe it’s because of the multiple screens they have to watch the game on, or the stats man sitting beside them, or the producer in their ear, telling them about the substitution that’s about to happen.

Or it could be because they’re just very good!

There are definitely no technical problems, no incorrect team sheets, no tinted glass, no IPhones, no poor lighting, no open air boxes. There’s catering, correct payment, no lost invoices and they don’t have to transport or setup the gear.  

I pull into the service station on my way back to Newcastle and refill the tank that had been drained by the journey down.

I look at the fuel pump, it reads $87.03.

I pull out the $100 I’ve been handed hours earlier and pay the cashier.

He hands me back $12.80 in change.

“All that for that” I say to myself.

I jump back in the car and restart the journey home, with work starting again in a couple of hour’s time.

I slump back into my desk and clock on for another day and begin typing what you’ve just been reading.

“How was the boxing last night?” a colleague asks.

“Priceless” I reply.

Priceless, indeed.