Remember Fred Ettish? He took an absolutely horrible beating back in UFC 2 at the hands of Johnny Rhodes. He looked like everything but a fighter, a goofy mustachioed man with little physical grace or fighting skill. What he had was heart. He was widely mocked online, but he took his whipping like a man.

At UFC 14, Maurice Smith blasted away at Mark Coleman with elbows from the guard. Straight up elbows, not the forearms we typically call “elbows”, actual point of the elbow, downward stabbing motion elbows. And Coleman took them like a man and fought on.

Compare Fred Ettish to Bob Sapp. Sapp is everything Ettish is not. He’s big, black, and athletic. He’s rich and famous and has his own branded dildo. He’s charismatic and personable. But he’s also a physical coward. Watch the travesty in Holland against Peter Aerts or his embarassing performance last month in his own hometown.

Compare Coleman-Smith to Frank Shamrock-Renzo Gracie. Gracie takes a few taps to the head and puts on a shameless display of flopping around the ring. He’s Brazilian, home of the biggest pansies in all of soccer (and that’s saying something). So some kind of play acting is expected. But Renzo’s method acting helped him take home a win and a big check.

The conclusion you can’t help but come to? Today’s MMA fighters are pussified. Let’s face facts: Joe Son would punch Rich Franklin in the balls 30 or 40 times and make him quit. When we took away the time limits and added 6000 rules, we also took away the heart and the balls of our sport. We aren’t crowning an Ultimate Fighter anymore. We are rewarding someone for playing the MMA game better than the other guy. And those aren’t the same thing. In the famous words of a drunk wrestling fan who got ejected by bouncers at an ECW Wrestling show: “Fight Pussies, Fight.”