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I’m not one to try and declare any MMA venture as not worth the effort. I have expressed many times that I am a devout lover of the sport and that I can sit through even the worst of fights or events because there is always some hidden moment or fight waiting to be uncovered. Now however I must go against my own beliefs and I have YAMMA to thank for that. I have finally found something in MMA so bad and so tiresome that not even I can find anything redeeming within.

YAMMA was never supposed to be serious, it was a joke right from the onset. Oh sure, the promoters and financial backers were taking it seriously, but even the most daft MMA fan knew what YAMMA was all about. YAMMA should have been fun, it should have been fast, it should have been the opposite of the UFC, but in good ways. Whereas the UFC takes itself so seriously, YAMMA appeared to be willing to poke fun at itself and to let us all in on the joke. They promised to take us back to 1996 and we all knew how funny that would be. They trotted out old fighters, they promised freak show fights and they promised a good time. Unfortunately YAMMA didn’t deliver on those promises and instead we were left with the worst big time MMA show that I have ever seen.

It all started with their idea for a heavyweight tournament. Someone in their organization apparently decided it would be a good idea to trot out competitors from the unabashed worst division in all of MMA for a one night tournament. The heavyweight division is so bad that you are lucky to be able to find three good fights in the division over a twelve month period. But, YAMMA was determined to get eight heavyweights together for one night of action. They got them together all right, and all of us, the viewers, suffered for it. Fat man after fat man taking his opponent down and laying on top of them while not providing any action whatsoever.

That brings us to the next problem for YAMMA, their rules. Specifically their round system and how completely imbecilic it actually was. One five minute round for the quarterfinals and semifinals of the tournament with only the tournament final getting the full three five minute rounds treatment. It never occurred to them that all this would entice was for one combatant to take his opponent down and lay on top of him for the requisite five minutes it took him to get a decision and move on to the next round. Only one competitor, Ricco Rodriguez, seemed willing to say “the hell” with that and actually push a pace while attempting to finish the fight in that one round. And what did he get for pushing the pace and action? A wrestler taking him down and laying on him for five minutes in the semifinals.

The last nail in the coffin for YAMMA was their idea of a fighting surface. The Pit, as they called it, was a joke. It’s design clearly favored that of a wrestler, allowing them to back their opponent up into the lip area of the Pit and then take their opponent down with ease. Forget clinching to stop a takedown, sprawling to stop a takedown, or even working your guard when on the lip, none of those things were possible. What could make an uneven playing field even worse, the inability for the fans in attendance to see what the hell was going on. From the vantage point of sitting in the stands one needed to be above ground level to actually see above the lip to see all of the exciting and exhilarating laying down that was happening in the Pit.

At least they got the two master fights correct, I will give YAMMA that much. Pat Smith versus Butterbean was nothing but fists flying in every direction and then one dude pounding a beached whale into submission. Oleg Taktarov versus Mark Kerr was a freak show in every sense of the word, although I derived pleasure from it. I am a temerarious Russian Bear fan, so watching him make Mark Kerr tap like crazy was a fun thing to watch. It also allows the completely unrealistic part of me to go, “See, back in 1996 Oleg was the best in the world, he beat Mark Kerr dammit, that proves it.” The ring announcer also provided some fun. No man or woman should be that unintentionally hilarious on the mic, yet he was. Who needs one nickname when you can have a second one that is ten times better than the first, just ask Travis “Give Me A Room With A” Wiuff.

Upon further reflection, because that is what life amounts to, I think I’ll change my original thoughts on the subject of YAMMA. I entered this column stating my view that there wasn’t one worthwhile subject to come out of YAMMA, but I was wrong. There were a few things I enjoyed, but this is a situation where what I liked has to be weighed against what I didn’t like. Amusingly bad announcer, Ricco, and the Russian Bear stacked up against fat dudes laying on top of each other all night, a terrible round system, a terrible fighting surface, no crowd to speak of, and terrible production. As much as my love of the Russian Bear hates to say it, YAMMA still stands as the worst MMA ever to appear on my television screen. Whether or not YAMMA goes on I know this is the only time it will appear on my television screen because the cons outweigh the pros by far too much for me to ever risk entering the PIT ever again.