Issue 044
December 2008
As recognisable as many fighters who enter the cage, referee Mario Yamasaki is a mainstay in the UFC Octagon.
The Brazilian-born ref (he has a Japanese father, hence the surname) has been a referee for the UFC since 1999. Yamasaki was involved in refereeing local MMA tournaments in the Washington DC area, and by helping the UFC host their show in São Paulo, Brazil in 1998 he was able to land a job with the organisation.
Martial arts have always been in the Brazilian-Japanese blood of Yamasaki. His father is a martial artist and went to the Olympics in 1992 in Barcelona as an international referee. Yamasaki’s cousin competed in Barcelona in judo, and his uncle went to the Olympics four times as a referee and owns several gyms in Brazil. “When I was 3 years old I was already on the mat,” quips Yamasaki, who has also refereed in MMA promotions such as EliteXC, Gracie Challenge and the IFL.
Yamasaki has a black belt in judo and Brazilian jiu-jitsu (BJJ), and runs seven martial arts schools in the US, offering Thai boxing, capoeira, BJJ and MMA. Yamasaki teaches at one of the gyms he owns in the Washington area. A passionate martial artist, it’s a big thrill for Yamasaki to step into the cage and referee some of the biggest fights on the MMA world stage.
“It’s the best seat in the house,” says Yamasaki with laughter. “Besides fighting, it’s the most exciting.” You get the sense that Yamasaki really enjoys his role as an official, and outside the cage it’s definitely a pleasure for him to be part of the sport as well. “It’s a lot of fun, we go out afterwards, we hang out, we travel and have a good time,” notes Yamasaki, who handles refereeing duties in states as diverse as Nevada, California, Ohio, Texas, New Jersey and Connecticut.
Having the best seat in the house allows Yamasaki to gain access and insight into the fighters’ minds right before competition. He can tell on some occasions before the action even begins who will win or lose based on the look fighters have in their eyes. “Sometimes you can tell,” he comments. “We can see their fear in their eyes.”
Some feel the eyes are a window to the soul, and Yamasaki has peered into those, both frightened and confident, in his day. This goes back to the first event he was a part of: UFC Brazil, where he witnessed first hand the shifts in confidence as Wanderlei Silva and Vitor Belfort met in the Octagon.
“I was there for the whole week and I saw that Wanderlei was very pumped, very hyped and he was ready,” recalls Yamasaki. “And Vitor Belort was kind of like, ‘Oh I don’t know, the guy punches hard.’” Belfort’s confidence level still wasn’t too high in the dressing room, notes Yamasaki. “You could see in the locker room right before the fight Wanderlei had the eye of the tiger and was ready, and Vitor was kind of down,” he says. “But once they walked into the Octagon, as soon as they passed the fence, their eyes changed – I think Wanderlei saw that many people in the stadium and the pressure got to him, and Vitor just grew from there and he won the fight.”
Before a fight Yamasaki will always talk to the fighters in the locker room to get a feel for where they are mentally and give them pertinent instructions. “I always tell them if it’s a championship fight I have to make sure you can’t defend yourself anymore or else I’m going to let it go to the end,” states Yamasaki, who is known to give fighters chances to get out of bad positions. His willingness to allow fighters to continue through tough spots (within the framework of the unified rules) has won Yamasaki much respect from numerous MMA fighters.
“They respect my style because I give them a chance,” says Yamasaki. “Sometimes you get knocked down and when you hit the ground you wake up – people are mentally trained to do that Boom! When they go down and they react they’re already grabbing something. Sometimes they grab the referees,” he laughs.
Yamasaki isn’t afraid to admit he has made mistakes. “Oh yeah, I’m human,” states Yamasaki. An example would be when Frank Trigg and Matt Hughes battled for the second time – Yamasaki admits he was lucky the fight turned out in Hughes’s favour. Trigg hit Hughes with an unintentional knee to the groin, but Yamasaki wasn’t able to catch the shot from his vantage point and only heard it. Trigg pounced on Hughes and floored the former welterweight UFC champ with a big punch.
“I didn’t see the hit (groin shot) because I was moving myself to the other side,” recalls Yamasaki. “I just heard ‘pop’, I even said ‘stop’, but Trigg punched as I heard that. If I stopped the fight then I would have to end the fight, so I let it go because I thought Hughes might come back and luckily he did and won – it was great for me because if he lost that way I was going to be in trouble.”
Generally Yamasaki is on the ball and making all the right calls. Not too quick, not too slow, Yamasaki has a fine balance and a good instinct as to when it’s appropriate to intervene. “I think you can’t stop the fight too soon or too late,” says Yamasaki, noting one of the key things to remember as a ref.
Like many, Yamasaki enjoys the unpredictable nature of the sport, and he derives pleasure witnessing the many forms a fight can take in the Octagon. “It doesn’t matter their size or looks,” he says. “You never know what the outcome of the fight will be.”
