Issue 211

November 2024

21 December 1997

Setagaya, Tokyo Japan

UFC 15.5

By Brad Wharton

The Martial Arts have always been a giant in Japan. It should come as no surprise, then, that as the UFC looked to expand its brand in the late 1990s, it would make inroads into the Land of the Rising Sun. If the UFC were going to leave the confines of the United States for the first time, it would go big. Japan was a Mecca of combat sports, and with kickboxing giants K-1 and many pro-wrestling and proto-MMA promotions drawing big crowds, there was a live events market to be tapped into. With UFC 15 in the books and UFC 16 already on the slate, Ultimate Japan was affectionately dubbed ‘UFC 15.5’. It was the promotion’s 18th event, but let’s not complicate matters too much. Unconventional naming conventions aside, this was no ‘fight night.’ Fans in the Yokohama Arena were to be treated to the full UFC experience. In the main event, Maurice Smith - beloved in Japan for his kickboxing exploits and subsequent pro-wrestling bouts against Minoru Suzuki and Masakatsu Funaki – would defend his heavyweight title against Randy Couture. Frank Shamrock, a former champion and leading star of the Japanese PANCRASE organization, would make his UFC debut, facing Olympian Kevin Jackson to crown the promotion’s first-ever middleweight champion. 

HOME COUNTRY RULES

But what of the Japanese contingent? That’s where the evening’s centerpiece came into play via a four-man, one-night heavyweight tournament. American brawler Tank Abbott would face Japan’s Yoji Anjo in one bracket. Anjo was a ‘shoot-style’ pro-wrestler, a legitimate martial artist participating in hard-hitting bouts designed to be indistinguishable from a real fight. He was best known in the West for a publicity stunt gone drastically wrong, which saw him attempt a ‘dojo storm’ on Rickson Gracie’s school with a pack of Japanese press in tow to drum up support for his fledging KINGDOM wrestling troupe. It didn’t end well. 

In the second bracket, Anjo’s wrestling stablemate Hiromitsu Kanehara was to make his legitimate fighting debut against Marcus ‘Conan’ Silveira. A Carlson Gracie blackbelt, Silveira was a crucial player in the famous Brazilian Top Team and is now best known as a founder and Head Coach of American Top Team. ‘Conan’ was tailor-made for the harder, more aggressive brand of BJJ practiced by Carlson’s students and the BTT cohort: big, strong, and street-tough. Physically, he looked like every bad stereotype of an MMA fighter: 6’3, built like a tank, and covered from head to toe in menacing tattoos.

WHAT THE PEOPLE WANT

While the Japanese were no doubt hoping that at least one of their countrymen would make the UFC Japan finals, the UFC must have been salivating over the prospect of a showdown between Conan and Tank. Fate had other ideas. An eleventh-hour injury left Hanehara unable to compete, and with scant time to find a replacement, it was left to KINGDOM rookie Kazushi Sakuraba to fill the void. There were just two issues: Sakuraba had never had a real fight, and this was a heavyweight tournament. Sakuraba wouldn’t weigh 200lbs fully clothed, soaking wet, and with bricks in his pockets. Still, with a lack of formal weigh-ins, the diminutive grappler filled out a form stating he weighed 203lbs, and his bout with the gargantuan Silveira was good to go. 

DAVID VS GOLIATH (PART 1)

The young Japanese fighter didn’t look like a man with the weight of a nation’s expectations on his shoulders as he walked to the cage, but it was there. Rickson Gracie humiliated Anjo and dominated two Vale Tudo Japan tournaments, beating three Japanese fighters in the 1995 edition memorialized in the movie ‘Choke.’ Two months earlier, he’d defeated pro-wrestling figurehead and Saku mentor Nobuhiko Takada at the first PRIDE Fighting Championship event. Their fans may have valued ‘fighting spirit’ as much as wins or losses, but something had to give before Japanese fighters became a punchline. As the first bell rang and the fans finally got a look at Sakuraba and Silveira face to face, the size difference was verging on comical. Undeterred, though, Saku dropped for a double leg. The Brazilian snatched up a guillotine, but the crowd cheered as Silveira hit the mat. The smaller man slid his head out, and Conan switched his attack to a leglock, blasting Sakuraba with up-kicks from his back as the local hero tried to fish out an ankle or toehold. 

THE SIZE OF THE DOG IN THE FIGHT

Even with Saku stood over him, Conan looked like a monster, at one point using his opponent’s own arm to drag him into range for kicks and punches. Ninety seconds in, Silveira scrambled to Sakuraba’s back, tripping him to the mat and attempting a Kimura. With the big man gripping his arm, Saku somehow found the strength to defend and pop back to his feet. Conan followed him up and trapped him against the fence, letting rip with a series of meaty hooks. And just like that, it was over. Sakuraba had gone down, and referee John McCarthy was in like a flash to stop the contest. It quickly became clear that something was amiss. As McCarthy shoved Conan away, Sakuraba was firmly latched onto his leg, clearly not unconscious or even stunned. Commentators Mike Goldberg – on duty for the first time – and Jeff Blatnick seemed as confused as anyone, while McCarthy insisted to the Japanese corner that their man was out. In truth, Saku had let gravity do the work for him, level-changing into a single-leg takedown. McCarthy had read it wrong, and the replays proved it; even Silveira had gestured to the official as if to say, “What are you doing?” Kanehara and Takada furiously remonstrated in the corner while Sakuraba’s emotions were getting the better of him in the cage. The second semi-final had ended in disaster, but the tournament was about to be plunged into further chaos.

DAVID VS GOLIATH (PART 2)

Tank Abbott was out of the finals. He’d beaten Anjo soundly in the semis but had broken his hand. Then, another bombshell: Alternate bout winner Tre Telligman would not be stepping in to replace the injured fighter. Instead, following a review by the ‘UFC Sanctioning Committee,’ the result of the second semi-final was thrown out due to an early stoppage. Conan and Sakuraba would run it back in the final in unprecedented scenes. It seemed almost too good to be true, a glimmer of hope for Japanese fans. But surely fairytales are just that? Despite looking like he’d finish the first fight with his strikes, Silveira chose to lock up almost immediately in the second, muscling the virtually helpless smaller man into the fence and onto the ground. The pair jockeyed for position, Sakuraba searching for Kimuras on both sides, Silveira attacking from the back. Conan eventually went to a Kimura of his own, but it would be a fool’s errand. Sakuraba countered the hold, spinning through 180 degrees to latch onto a pitch-perfect straight armbar that had his opponent tapping in milliseconds. Justice was done, and so was Sakuraba’s UFC career. The future Gracie Hunter’ became one of the most legendary figures in all combat sports but would never again set foot inside the Octagon. His final act inside a UFC cage was to verbalize the vindication he’d earned for his art, a simple six-word statement. “In fact, professional wrestling is strong.”