While the rest of the MMA world continues to look forward to what will surely be one of the great weekends in the sport’s young history, featuring some of the world’s top heavyweights (Affliction: Banned), lightweights (Dream 5), and middleweights (Ultimate Fight Night), let us continue our look back at our favourite middling and indeed baffling light-heavyweight enigma. That’s right: our completely disproportionate Kazuhiro Nakamura retrospective continues apace! Last week, we followed Nakamura through his triumphs over the ever-ready Dos Caras Jr., the slightly dangerous Chalid Arrab, the hard-done-by Murilo Bustamante, the possibly diving Stefan Leko, and the wildly inconsistent Kevin Randleman. We also bore witness to his second (and presumably last, although who knows what tomorrow might bring?) loss to Antonio Rogerio Nogueira, and his freak shoulder injury against Dan Henderson. Recall that the note sounded throughout these early matches was Nakamura’s considerable promise, his potential to develop into a formidable competitor in Pride’s 205 lbs division. At the conclusion of Nakamura’s slightly plodding decision win over Randleman, Bas Rutten strangely proclaimed, “A new star is born!” Stranger still, it sounded like he meant it. “Beautiful victory, unanimous decision — we’re gonna hear a lot from him,” was Bas’s bold prediction. Well, sort of, in that, here we are, right?

Kazuhiro Nakamura vs. Wanderlei Silva
Pride Critical Countdown 2005
26 June 2005

How does a fighter with six wins and three losses find himself in the ring with Pride’s dominant middleweight (205 lbs) champion? You really had to love the Pride Grand Prix. There was always much online kvetching about Pride’s decision to allow its champions to compete in non-title tournament bouts, but I see it as a net positive. Sure, it could make a mess of linear title histories and the like, but what if, say, you were a huge fan of some cat that had no absolutely business in the ring with the champion at all, but, all the same, you totally needed to see that fight happen? Do not ask me why I mention this here and now, as it is immaterial.

The pre-fight interviews here are outstanding. Nakamura seems to have taken a page from Kevin Randleman’s book, his very sweary book:

Nakamura [in English, no less!]: I [am] very confident that I can beat Wanderlei.
Silva: I think every fighter has to be very confident in his fight, but he is wrong, because I am going to knock him out.
Nakamura: Tell Wanderlei, shut the fuck up. [grins enormously]

Nakamura’s entrance here is pretty tight. A piped-in chant of “Nippon,” reminds us that Nakamura is the last Japanese competitor in the 2005 Pride Middleweight Grand Prix, and serves as preamble to his traditional yet jaunty walk-in music. Bas says that Nakamura has samurai spirit and natural punching power, which is an ever-dangerous combination, as well you know.

At first it looks like Nakamura is wearing two gi jackets, which wouldn’t make a hell of a lot of sense, but halfway down the aisle he removes the top jacket to reveal that he was in fact wearing a regular gi jacket over a short-sleeved gi jacket underneath.

The short-sleeve gi jacket is without question the single most baffling ordeal in the baffling ordeal of Nakamura’s career as a whole. Let’s take a moment here.

We can attempt to reconstruct the thought process that led to this tactical/sartorial choice, but with little real confidence. How can we truly know any man’s mind, let alone that of this extraordinary, peculiar man? It is no doubt folly to attempt to enter the mind of Nakamura, but let us at least try. Here, then, Nakamura, as best I can: “(i) Although I, Kazuhiro Nakamura, have not previously competed in MMA while wearing a gi jacket, my mainest man Hidehiko Yoshida has had considerable recent success against Silva, or at least as much success as anyone has had during this dominant period of Silva’s career, while wearing one — perhaps I would benefit from the increased friction the gi jacket provides in the clinch and on the on the ground; (ii) But what if he grabbed onto the ends of the sleeves for some reason? I’m not sure why that would be a problem, but maybe it would be an enormous one; (iii) I know, a short sleeve jacket like something Sonny Chiba might conceivably wear in a third-rate karate movie; (iv) Are you going to finish that? I don’t even know what that is, but it looks delicious.”

To his credit, Nakamura comes out in round one not afraid to engage with Silva. No desperate double-leg shots from too far out to really be effective, just some good cautious boxing followed by a flying knee into the clinch. The two go down but only for a split second, as they scramble back to their feet. Nakamura misses a looping right hand and eats one of the same in return. Nakamura is “dramatically improved in his stand-up game,” Bas thinks, and yes, he looks steady in the early going here against perhaps the most feared 205 lbs striker of his era. After a flurry, however, Nakamura loses his cool momentarily, or gets overly excited, or something, and rushes in to clinch and is floored by a straight shot that lands flush. Silva is in Nakamura’s guard for a moment, but stands up and stomps. Nakamura grabs hold of the stomping leg and sweeps, however, and ends up in Silva’s halfguard. A stop-don’t-move puts the fighters back to the center, where Nakamura attempts something involving the skirt of his strange gi but I cannot say what — Mauro suggest an Ezekial choke or sode guruma jime but that doesn’t really seem exactly possible. Back on their feet, Nakamura remains willing to exchange with Silva.

And then it happens.

Mauro: OH HEY HEY!
Bas: THAT, HE SHOULDN’T HAVE DONE. HE SHOULDN’T HAVE THROWN THAT OUT. IT WAS BOTHERING HIM?

Nakamura, faring better on his feet against Wanderlei Silva than anyone had any right to expect, decides to take off his gi jacket. In the middle of the round. With Silva still entirely in striking range. Perhaps because it was chafing him? Who can say. Immediately, it’s clear to everyone that this is an absolutely terrible idea, perhaps the worst of all possible ideas in this situation. And from there, it’s just as you’d think: Nakamura is decked, mounted, and pounded out, all because his goofy short-sleeve gi jacket, which, for reasons discernible only to the man himself, seemed at one time like an absolutely awesome and completely essential thing, all of a sudden came to harsh his buzz to such an extent that he could not bear to exist within its confines for a moment more.

Consider this bout, friends. I leave you with it. And with Bas’s closing thoughts on the whole sorry affair: “He should have never, again, thrown away his gi.”