The case for Matt Grice as Fighter of the Year
As 2013 comes to a close, fans are naturally making the case on the UnderGround for Fighter of Year. Is…
As 2013 comes to a close, fans are naturally making the case on the UnderGround for Fighter of Year. Is it Vitor Belfort with three headkick KOs? Is it Demetrious Johnson? Will UFC 168 tell if it is Chris Weidman? Is it Jon Jones or Ronda Rousey?
Former UG Blog columnist Ralph Welch now writing for the UK’s BT.com, makes the case for Matt Grice.
Feb 23, Anaheim, California. Round three: Grice v Bermudez
You see the crowd. All of them on their feet. Cheering. You can see them but you can’t hear them. You hear nothing. But you see everything. You see the years you spent on the wrestling mat at school. You see your hand being raised. You see the smiles of your teammates. Then suddenly they’re gone. Replaced by older, battle-worn faces telling a story of sacrifice and punishment. You see a cage door closing, time and time again.
You step into the spotlight.
And now you see your family. You see your wife and your two young daughters. You tell yourself that you’re doing this for them. For a better life. But you know the truth. You’re doing this for yourself. This is the place you’ve been seeking for so long. Your journey has brought you here, where only a select few have dared to tread.
It is here, in the heat of battle, that a warrior learns the true depth of his fighting heart. It is here that he finally sees the imperceptible line between success and failure.
You see all of this, but you don’t see the right hand. It crashes into your skull, shaking your body to its primal core. For a split-second there is darkness. It offers an outstretched hand. It teases comfort and consolation. You reach for it momentarily, then step back.
No. You’re not ready yet.
You raise your fists and move once more into the light.
Back in February, featherweights Matt Grice and Dennis Bermudez staged an early contender for fight of the year at UFC 157. As they entered the final round of a pulsating, punishing contest the crowd stood in awe of the warriors before them. In an unforgiving final round Bermudez unleashed an unrelenting final assault. A crushing uppercut caused Grice’s eyes to roll back into his head and the fight seemed done. Yet somehow – through sheer bloody-minded force of will – he survived and when the klaxon sounded he was still there, fighting to the very finish.
The bout served as a redemption of sorts for Grice who had previously failed to fulfil his potential on Octagon duty. The Oklahoman, a patrol officer with the city’s police department, had gone 1-3 in his first UFC stint. After trading wins and losses again, the Bermudez fight was his breakout moment. UFC President Dana White, he who controls the hopes and dreams of all on his roster, commended Grice for his showing and cited him as an example to all of those fighting for their futures on the payroll.
He was slated to face Jeremy Larsen next at UFC 166. It’s a fight that we never saw. And after the harrowing events of September 8 we’ll never see Matt Grice in the Octagon again.
On that evening, while waiting at a stoplight, Grice’s car was ploughed into by a vehicle travelling at 65 mph. Having sustained critical injuries, Grice underwent emergency brain surgery that necessitated the removal of part of his skull. It was the only way to alleviate the crushing pressure on his brain.
Once again, there is darkness. Deep, impenetrable darkness. It offers an outstretched hand.
It whispers that familiar promise of comfort and consolation.
This time you listen.
In the days and weeks that followed Grice held a precarious grip on life as his family staged a bedside vigil. Doctors prepared them for the worst. Even if he beat the odds and survived, there was little expectation for his quality of life. A proud warrior who strode into battle alone would forever be dependent on the care of others.
You inch forward, slowly enveloped by the calm blanket of darkness. The pain subsides with every step. Just a few more steps and it will be gone forever.
You hesitate. No. You’re not ready yet.
You raise your fists and move into the light.
Two weeks later Matt Grice’s eyes flickered back to life. Such was the cerebral trauma that he failed to recognise the joyous faces that greeted his return to consciousness. Medical staff warned the long road ahead would test the limits of the family’s collective faith.
That faith was justified when Grice gave an emotional interview last month on the MMA Hour with Ariel Helwani. With a portion of his skull visibly missing, his speech a beat slower, Grice spoke candidly about his experience, how truly humbled he was by the support of the people who raised $30k to pay his family’s medical bills.
His nurses call him a walking miracle who has defied their prognosis. Typical of a man characterised by his fighting heart, Grice has even made hopeful talk of a comeback. Though his main priority is returning to duty with the police force and serving the good people of Oklahoma.
Yes, there are combatants who have held titles, headlined pay-per-views and commanded more column inches in 2013. St-Pierre, Jones, Rousey et al. are big names with big paychecks.
But the UFC relies on men and women like Matt Grice. They’ve spent a lifetime honing their craft in the hours allotted after the commitments of work and family. They inhabit the mid-card and the prelims where the financial rewards barely do justice to the risks they incur. They live in a state of permanent insecurity knowing there is a line of hopefuls ready to take their spot should they falter.
They live for the competition. And when they fall off the UFC radar, as so many do, they are too quickly forgotten.
Like them, Matt Grice is still fighting. He embodies their indomitable spirit. For me, his story is the most memorable of 2013.