Issue 055

November 2009

Bearded brawler Kimbo Slice went from viral video star to primetime attraction until a disastrous 14-second knockout sent his star crashing back to earth. Now, almost one year after that fateful day, Kimbo will attempt to work his way back up from the bottom by entering the tenth series of TUF. We take a look at the rise, fall, and potential rise again of Kimbo Slice.  

Birth of a legend

My first encounter of Kimbo Slice was much the same as anyone else’s. I clicked a link while loitering in cyberspace, watching grainy videos that take minutes off your life as they stream from some anonymous server halfway across the globe. As is often the case when lost in the depths of the Internet, it wasn’t long before I found myself watching footage of fighting. It’s not completely voyeuristic when your profession demands you view dozens of fights a week – at least that’s what I told myself as I watched videos of a dubious legal nature.  

I don’t clearly remember exactly how I found the video that showed two physically imposing black men in a backyard bare-knuckle fight, but I do remember watching with curiosity (and no small sense of revulsion) as they swung for each other’s heads. This was no sidewalk scrap, no back-alley mugging – this was an agreed, pre-planned competitive bout between men with physiques that were half athlete, half jailbird.  

As the fight went on, it was clear one had the upper hand. At one point he even dropped his hands and urged his opponent to hit him. One, two, three punches bounced off his bushy black beard. His opponent’s courage disappeared, but to his credit, he kept swinging – more through fear than aggression. Next came the moment that everyone remembers; the eventual loser threw a right hook. A duck, a slip and a counter left hook saw him drop. When he finally regained his feet, the right side of his face looked like something out of a horror movie. The flesh was swollen and the skin broken; it was hard to tell whether his eye was still in place. The video ended with the winner and his entourage whooping and hollering their way home, boasting of their victory and the money it earned them.  

Viral violence

It was this two-and-a-half-minute video of an illegal prizefight that created a phenomenon. In a perfect example of how powerful viral videos can be, forums and online communities lit up in discussion about the fearsome slugger known only as ‘Kimbo’. Where did he come from? Was he tougher than those sissy fighters who need to wear gloves when they fight?  

Details were scarce. It’s understandable that someone who engaged in backyard brawls for money would want to keep a low public profile, but the public demanded to know who he was. Kimbo (whose real name was the rather mundane Kevin Ferguson) was revealed as a driver and bodyguard for a Florida-based pornographic company called Reality Kings. That he had ties to both bare-knuckle prizefighting and pornography only added to his mystique, and his reputation and profile grew thanks to further videos released by his porno buddies. Here was a man who operated on the edge of society, half-outlaw, half-celebrity, yet little else was known about him other than he was considered the best street-brawler in South Florida and fought for sums that would make many MMA fighters green with envy.  

As more videos were released (footage of Kimbo fighting an array of men; some muscled, some fat, all dangerous) the momentum increased. Here was a man not to be messed with, a true warrior, unafraid to get physical. He was so tough he didn’t even need to wear gloves when he fought! Bring us your strongest, toughest and most dangerous; Kimbo will take anyone on! All you need to do is lay down $10,000 and it’s on.  

Bursting the bubble

Word quickly spread that Kimbo was running out of victims. The MMA forums lit up with fans beseeching someone, anyone, to fight Kimbo and prove that his street fighting style was no match for a trained fighter. The challenge was met by a by a low-level MMA fighter and full-time cop from Boston named Sean Gannon. The portly cop struck a far different figure to that of Kimbo – Gannon was bulky but overweight and he looked nervous and unprepared. Gannon and his pals put up the 10 G’s and enticed Kimbo up from Florida to an undisclosed East Coast gym for the rumble.  

The fight was nothing short of horrible. Kimbo’s savagery and rudimentary boxing was negated by Gannon’s size, clumsy haymakers, and not wholly permitted standing guillotine chokes (Gannon’s camp argued they were legal, Kimbo’s people said it was a pure fist fight). They pawed through ten fatigue-filled minutes before Kimbo was counted out. Gannon’s victory was hollow – he was the bloodied, battered fighter – but it was undisputable. Kimbo had lost, on camera, and the spell had been broken.  

Dana White and the UFC picked up Gannon and put him in the Octagon. Any man who could take out the fearsome Kimbo must be worth something, right? Wrong. Not that they knew it at the time, but they picked the wrong guy. Gannon got creamed inside one round by a C-class fighter, while Kimbo went quiet. Few would have predicted his next move would be a foray in the cage – the general consensus was that Slice would simply go back to beating up brawlers in South Florida – but it seemed his tangle with Gannon had inspired him to check out this thing called MMA.  

The second coming 

Kimbo’s first MMA fight came in June of 2007, and after his shambolic dance with Gannon nobody expected it to be an affair to remember, especially as it was ‘merely’ an exhibition bout against an ex-boxer (‘Not even a real MMA fighter? Kimbo must have been scared,’ said the fans). The opponent, Ray Mercer, was a decent fight for Kimbo. A former world heavyweight boxing champion, Mercer was 46 years old but the last thing a boxer loses is his punch. That’s all Mercer had to offer, in stark contrast to an energetic Kimbo. There were punches, knees, elbows and a decisive guillotine choke from Slice, backed up by a pace that could only have come from extensive training. Here was another turnaround – he had gone from fearsome to hopeless and back to fearsome.  

Kimbo’s MMA abilities didn’t materialize overnight. The street fighter had been training with a legend, former UFC heavyweight champ Bas Rutten. The Dutchman had been working Kimbo hard in anticipation of a prospective MMA career, and judging from the Mercer fight his work had paid off. That was against a has-been boxer – what would happen against a proper MMA fighter? Would it be a replay of the Gannon fight?  

From street to elite

In October of 2007 upstart MMA promotion EliteXC announced they had signed Kimbo, and he would be making his ‘proper’ MMA debut a little over one month later. Here was his chance to show he could hang with legitimate heavyweight MMA fighters. EliteXC recognized his marketing potential but didn’t just promote him – they built half the company around him.  

Such an investment bore careful looking after, so Slice’s first victim in EliteXC’s circular cage was Bo Cantrell. EliteXC was headed by Gary Shaw, a long-time boxing promoter who took from the pugilistic model by bringing in someone who looked dangerous enough but posed little threat. Cantrell was 10-10-0 and was coming off three straight losses. He lasted all of 19 seconds, and could only have been a bigger gift if he’d had a giant bow tied around him.  

A second sacrificial lamb in the form of fellow brawler Tank Abbott came three months later. That Abbott had won only one fight in the last ten years seemed little more than an afterthought. Here was another street-fighter turned professional athlete; Kimbo would only further his position as a legitimate mixed martial artist should he win. Forty-three seconds of fighting in front of a rabid Miami crowd and Abbott was out of it – once again, Kimbo’s fists had done the business.  

With two fights under his belt, it was worth noting that Slice had racked up only one minute and two seconds of official fight time. A tougher test was in order, someone who could sell the fight yet comfortably test Slice. British heavyweight James Thompson was chosen due to his high-profile career in England and Japan, and most importantly his legendary glass jaw.  

If there was ever a script for this fight, then Thompson never read it. He went in there and did what he was paid to do. He fought Kimbo as any sensible mixed martial artist would – with an array of techniques and a strict game plan. Thompson bullied Kimbo around the cage, even coming dangerously close to submitting him with a guillotine choke. A series of questionable stand-ups marred the contest though – was the referee helping Kimbo back to his feet from bad positions? Much like in his bout with Gannon, Kimbo fatigued. Only his opponent’s lack of finishing ability saved him; early in the third round, Kimbo summoned one last-ditch volley of strikes that rocked Thompson, prompting the ref to step in, although some would argue even that call was controversial.  

It was a win but, once again, Kimbo’s stock had taken a big hit, and in front of the largest ever TV audience for an MMA event. EliteXC’s deal with CBS meant that a peak of 6.51 million people saw Kimbo struggle. Drastic action was needed to save his crumbling credibility.  

The Shamrock ultimatum and the Petruzelli supremacy

Kimbo was given six months off after his win over Thompson, partly to go off and improve his skill set, partly so fans could forget about his atrocious performance against Thompson. Another ‘easy’ fight was drafted in, this time a true pioneer of MMA, but one who had proved he was ill-equipped to compete against modern fighters: Ken Shamrock. Once again, a fighter with a losing record but a high public-profile was chosen as the stepping-stone for Slice, but Shamrock’s actions in the hours leading up to the fight set off a chain of events that would ultimately see the entire company come crashing down.  

After a particularly heated set of weigh-ins (Shamrock is nothing if not good entertainment) the Internet community was abuzz with chatter, but not of the good sort. As the event approached, a worrying fact came to light. Shamrock had pulled out of the fight claiming an errant head butt in training had opened a cut on his eyebrow, leaving him unable to fight. Shamrock’s adopted brother Frank claimed that Ken deliberately cut himself to avoid taking the fight over a dispute about pay (this was never proved or disproved). Presumably, after suffering a series of heart attacks, the promoters scrabbled for an 11th-hour replacement.  

The only viable alternative to Shamrock was Seth Petruzelli, a 205lb’er plucked from the undercard in a desperate bid to salvage the main event. Petruzelli’s credentials were deceptive: an eight-and-a-half-year veteran with experience fighting in Brazil, Europe, and Japan, he was a dark horse. His record wasn’t that hot, but he was dangerous – far more dangerous than anyone else Kimbo had faced until now.  

The result of the fight will be remembered as one of the most embarrassing and laughable moments in MMA history: Kimbo was left face-down on the canvas after only 14 seconds. EliteXC’s TV deal disappeared as network executives realized their paper tiger Kimbo was precariously perched on a tower made of sugar. When Petruzelli laid him out with a jab, it sent them into a panic. Gone was the TV deal, gone was the money, and not long after, EliteXC was gone too.  

One of the contributing factors to EliteXC’s financial backers suddenly getting cold feet was that in an interview the morning after the fight Petruzelli claimed that the promoters had offered him money not to take Kimbo down. He hurriedly retracted his statement as the panic of losing his job set in, but the damage was done. An investigation cleared EliteXC of trying to influence the fight, but the death knell had been rung. Kimbo’s position as one of the country’s most famous fighters was over.  

Picking up the pieces

There wasn’t much left for Kimbo after EliteXC folded. He had been getting ridiculous sums of money for his fights, which no other promotion in the US could afford. There was talk he may go to Japan to fight in K-1, and he even traveled to Yokohama in November 2008 and appeared at ringside, but nothing came of it.  

It was at this time that Dana White’s assessment of Kimbo hit an all-time low. On numerous occasions he called Kimbo a bum, and said that even lightweight champion BJ Penn could take him out. “The only way he could get in the UFC,” said White, “is by going through The Ultimate Fighter”.  

Few expected Kimbo to take Dana up on the offer, but the shocking news was broken on June 1st that Kimbo had indeed signed up as one of 16 heavyweights to enter the house. With the vitriolic feud between coaches Rampage Jackson and Rashad Evans leading the way, White has promised this will be the craziest, most explosive and entertaining season yet, and has threatened to boot Kimbo off the show if he gets into any fights outside of the Octagon.  

As for Kimbo, how he appears (and more importantly, performs) on the show is yet to be seen, but when the full cast was unveiled at the UFC fan expo in July, he appeared humble, grateful for his chance at redemption and eager to prove his worth as a legitimate fighter – a far cry from the swaggering street fighter we saw in action on YouTube. This could be Kimbo’s return to glory or farewell party, but one thing is guaranteed: It’ll be unmissable television.  

The highs and lows of Kimbo Slice

High: The Miami street fights

Undefeated in a string of backyard brawls with bouncers and tough guys, Kimbo’s rep travels far outside his Miami hood thanks to the power of YouTube.

Low: Grappling with Gannon

Undertrained and reliant purely on his ‘boxing’ ability, Kimbo falls short in a messy, brutal battle with MMA fighter Sean Gannon.  

High: Slice vs. Mercer

Kimbo’s MMA debut gave us a taste of what he might be capable of with some training.  

High: Signing with EliteXC

Kimbo’s demolition of Bo Cantrell and Tank Abbott got fans in a frenzy. Just ignore the fact they were brought in to lose.  

Low: Versus the 'Colossus'

Kimbo’s shambolic fight with James Thompson exposed glaring holes in his game.  

Low: 14 seconds and out

Late replacement Petruzelli derailed the Kimbo train with a single punch, signaling the end for EliteXC.