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So, last week was not the best of weeks. As far as The Ultimate Fighter goes, I mean. My week was excellent. But between Jeremy May’s truly ludicrous flailing against the reputedly, potentially, provisionally ferocious Matt Brown — who, it must be said, underperformed, as much as that is possible in a first-round head kick KO win — and whatever it was, exactly, that Luke Zachrich and Daniel Cramer were doing to and with one another for ten minutes, it was not The Ultimate Fighter at its best. Or was it? That kind of fight might well be exactly what The Ultimate Fighter is for, at least according to the guy running the show. While it was somewhat disheartening to hear Dana White sing the praises of Zachrich/Cramer, in that it was plainly shit, you believed Dana when he said he thought it was “a great fight.” He seemed not the least bit disingenuous. And this is the man with more control over the direction of our beloved (well, beliked) sport than any other. Not that I’m hating. I just think Dana and I have fundamentally different aesthetics. But this is ground we’ve covered already (w/r/t hoodies, you’ll recall), and what in the end can you say but de gustibus non est disputandum, right?

Right.

It is perhaps worth noting that we are rounding the bend, friends: at the halfway mark of this, our seventh episode, we will be at the halfway mark of this, our seventh season, a season that I have determined (unscientifically, but still) to be pretty good. To it, then.

We are reminded that Matt Brown’s win was the fourth for Team Forrest, before Team Rampage wrested control away with “a grueling two round beatdown.” Something I didn’t notice in last week’s preview, but see now, is that Dana is rocking a “Save CBGB’s” t-shirt, which is a good way to distinguish yourself from the adolescents whose t-shirts only say “CBGB’s.” Jackson says he feels like he is a rock star, because he is in control. I don’t think of rock stars as people who are necessarily in control of all that much (least of all themselves), other than the usual grown up stuff of being able to stay up however late they want and being able to brush their teeth on their own terms. Which is all awesome stuff, no doubt, but I don’t know.

Jackson exercises this newfound rock star control by selecting Gerald Harris to fight Amir Sadollah in a “classic” wrestler vs. kickboxer matchup. Should be good! Gerald claims to “slam the shit out of people,” and I don’t doubt him. Rampage sees him as a “Mini-me” (mini-him), stylistically, which would fit with Harris’ self-description. The synthy tune that plays during Amir’s training package is the best music ever in the history of this program and is, I hope a tentative first step in what will prove to be a bold new direction: nu-rave MMA. New Young Pony Club will be the new DMX, Shitdisco the new P.O.D.

If Amir wins, Forrest will have half of his head shaved. This game just got real. That’s what he’s got riding on this. And Gerald? Gerald is a father of two. That’s a wash, pretty much. Amir is from the fighting city of Richmond, VA, much like our own esteemed Jorsh of the Total MMA forums, and Gerald is from Tulsa, and, as you know, this entire site exists as a living tribute to Tulsa Top Team. So this is a match the repercussions of which could shake Total MMA to its very core, maybe, a little.

Gerald insists he is confident but still humble going into this fight, which sounds like a good mindset for a balanced and fulfilling life, really. Burger King, once again, is putting up some serious ca$h for the winner here: $5000, or what other people on TV make for correctly answering two and a half of the harder questions on Jeopardy. Our referee is Josh Rosenthal, who seems like a competent guy about whom I have no real doubts, but man those tattoos and that little smirk, I don’t know. Disquieting. Gerald shoots immediately, and takes Amir down against the cage. Amir holds a closed guard and ties up Gerald’s arms. The guard opens, and Amir seems to have at least the passing thought of a triangle choke. Gerald starts landing perfectly decent shots from the top, but Amir circles off the cage and starts to look for the armbar. Gerald tries to double underhook the legs and toss them to the side to pass, but Amir is looking OK with his guardwork so far. Gerald lands a couple more solid shots but Amir scrambles up to his feet, pressed against the cage by Gerald who precedes to, well, slam the shit out of him , much as promised. That was lovely. Amir pushes Gerald off and gets to his feet again, only to be met with another solid slam. Gerald isn’t managing to do all that much from inside Amir’s guard, as Amir just gets feet on hips and pushes, but Gerald is definitely ad emphatically controlling where this fight is taking place — until the last minute, when Amir manages to land a few shots after briefly taking Gerald’s back after a failed ankle pick. Nice round that you’ve got to give to Gerald, I’d say.

Round two begins with Amir landing some kicks to the body before Gerald finishes a nice trip against the cage. Amir looks very collected here, and manages to regain his feet. He lands a solid knee to the face. He sprawls out of a single leg attempt and takes Gerald’s back, but only for an instant, as they’re back up, and Gerald takes him back down, once again against the cage. Gerald looks tired. They stand, and woah, ok, KO off of knee to the jaw. Yikes. Gerald insists he was “not out, AT AAAAALLLLLLLL” but he was told he had to improve his position and he didn’t, so what are you going to do. I support this Josh Rosenthal. Good job, ref. An impressive come-from-behind win from Amir, who was definitely on his way to losing a decision, as he concedes, but who stayed collected and pulled it out. “The biggest thing I won today was a little respect, a little respect for myself,” he says. That is a legitimately nice moment. Gerald is yelly, post-fight. He is concerned that he has let everybody down. Like Amir, he’s a serious young dude. Both of these guys, I think, fall into the “good for the sport” category.

LOL, we are immediately brought back to the usual TUF nonsense with the first words we hear after the commercial break: “Aw, I’m so pumped I’m finally fightin’, bro — if he doesn’t pick me that’s the biggest [expletive -- maybe "fag"? I don't read lips] move I’ve ever seen in my life. And if Klein picks me I’m going to look right over at Cale and be like, ‘you’re a pussy.’” This would be Patrick Schultz, he of the frosted tips and douchie hat and the shades on the back of his head. Yeah, this is closer to par for the course. Cale Yarbrough vs. Schultz, and Dalloway vs. Klein will wrap up this round.

Forrest suggests that Cale, fighting out of Athens, GA, has no sense of groundfighting at all, and that Patrick is much the same way. Cale is not just a fighter but a fan, and knows what fans want to see, which is none of that ground stuff, but instead knockouts. Huzzah. Patrick Schultz, with tips most frosted, has this hue similar to a guy I used to train with (he doesn’t come out anymore) who was always just slightly orange in skin tone which I think was supposed to look like a tan. I never asked about it; maybe it was all natural. But I had my doubts then, and I hold to them now.

Mazzagatti, and so death. Round one opens with striking roughly a squillion times better than Jeremy May’s nonsense of last week. This looks to be a slightly shabby kickboxing match with no count and tiny gloves, basically. Actually, the quality of the striking kind of falls to shit after a little bit. Schultz just lunges with his right. It’s ugly. OMG CALE WITH A TAKEDOWN. I seriously did not expect that. This should be enough to give him the round, just sort of tapping away from inside Patrick’s guard. Cale lets him back up, and they staaaaaaaaaaand and traaaaaaaaaaade. Cale tries for another takedown, and makes a welcome of indifference. Patrick is coming with the early Pancrase takedown defense.

“HOLY HOMERUN DERBY, BRO,” is the guy who looks like Big John McCarthy’s read. Round two is aaaaaaalllllllllll boooooooooooooooommmmmmmmbs in the first minute. I don’t know if it’s that I’m watching too much boxing lately or what, but bad MMA striking just seems like the worst thing you could possibly watch on TV. I’m feeling more and more like Al Bundy (who is apparently played by an actor and is not a real man but whatever), who was very skeptical of this whole MMA business when asked about it in a revealing interview some time ago. He gave a laundry list of things about the sport that just drive him nuts, but concludes, “It is what it is. I still watch it.” Here that is, by the way. I don’t have the same problems with it all as he does, but we have the same shrugging “I still watch it.” His cameo is the highpoint of Redbelt. So anyway, Cale takes Patrick down, slips to half guard, and starts landing short punches and elbows. Cale is firmly in control of this fight. He’s landing at will here, and looks to put Patrick and his frosted tips on ice (get it? get it?).

Forrest says his fighter will fight a third round. Rampage thinks he’d better, since Patrick won the first round in his view. You could make that case, no doubt. Rampage says Patrick dropped Cale twice, Forrest thinks it was just once, and Patrick says to Forrest, dismissively, “Just get in the corner. I can’t wait for your fight with Rampage.” OK, tough guy. “I bet you our fight won’t got to a decision,” Rampage says to Forrest. “I’ll bet my whole purse on it.” It was actually a little intense.

Next week! Forrest and Rampage getting all worked up! Or maybe not as it actually looks like they end up just playing around! The final first-round fight! Quarterfinal match-ups announced! OK!