Is it just me, friends, or did the week off really suck the life out of this thing? I understand that Thanksgiving is not the best time to air new episodes of anything, and so, sure, a week off. But as a Canadian, I had already enjoyed Thanksgiving long, long ago (we harvest in mid-June to avoid frost issues, basically), and so I simply felt abandoned. And now it all seems so distant. Wait, wait, there were some . . . dudes? In a . . . house? And they were supposed to train and compete but they mostly . . . jerked . . . off . . . into . . . sushi! That’s it! Yeah, OK cool, I’m back.

This week’s ground rules, borne of exhaustion (physical, spiritual, cultural, yes, but chiefly TUFual): I’m not pausing. What I miss, you will miss; our experience of this will truly be shared; and in this way we will be in it together, and our bond will be strengthened.

What is up with my copy of this show? No intro! No CAN U FEEEL IT THIS IS THE ULTIMAAAATE, no nothing. I am right into talk of Ryan Bader and Eliot Marshall. There is much talk of heart, and Ryan’s belief that Eliot lacks that. Nogueira, that glorious man, is convinced Ryan will be this season’s champ. The two are show sparring pretty hard, and Nogueria isn’t wearing headgear. I worry!

Eliot tells us that wrestling is about coming upon a wall and decided what you need to do is push harder against that wall, whereas jujitsu is about finding a way around it, finding a door. While I agree with his basic assessment of “ju,” I’m reminded that jujitsu and judo guys are often dismissive of just how much technique is involved in wrestling. Wrestling is not just dudes going GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH, far from it, although Hammer House might suggest to you that it is exactly that. So I’m not exactly sure about the words of this Eliot. Still, we understand his point, don’t we?

Round one is underway, and here I am making sure there are enough “a”s in “GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH.” I’ve got to get my head in the game. Ryan Bader, now there is a cat with his head in the game. He’s looking pretty alright on his feet for the first half of the round, and takes Eliot down at around 2:30. Bader smartly positions Eliot against the cage to limit his mobility off his back. There is a Dave and Buster’s ad on the canvas, and it doesn’t really make me want to go to a Dave and Buster’s, but it makes me want to play Virtua Fighter 4: Evolution on my trust PS2. Perhaps I will play as . . . the judo guy? I say these things to you in lieu of describing the action in final minutes of round one because there is no action of which to speak. Eliot was underhooking his own left leg in a fashion that suggested that he is a guy who might have interest in rubber guard; beyond that, nothing.

Round two, same thing: Eliot on his back, Bader working up against the cage, Eliot underhooking his own left leg, thinking omoplata/sankaku-garami or perhaps gogoplata/kagato-jime, or who knows, maybe just a really nifty juji? A swank triangle? Whatever he’s after, he’s not really getting there, since he’s unable to make space to move his hips, to get up on his side rather than flat on his back. And this is most of the round, friends. Ninety seconds to go in the round, and they’re stood up, but Bader puts Eliot back on the mat with a double. Ryan is on his way to a clear if unexciting win here. Oh hey! Three round fights! Pardon me.

Round three, double leg takedown, up against the cage, Eliot underhooks his own leg, and we’ve seen this movie before. It must be said that Eliot is more active on the bottom this round, however, and Bader isn’t doing much. They’re stood up with three minutes to go, and Eliot is once again on his back mere seconds later. Eliot tries for a Kimura/ude garami sweep, but Bader is too big, too strong, and too aware of the position to fall victim to it. Frank Mir is yelling, “Stand them up this is BORING!” (which of course it wouldn’t be if his man did some stuff) in a pretty whiny tone. I do not care for his man’s tone generally. He gets his stand up, but Eliot falls to the mat at Bader’s mere approach. For the first time all match, Bader makes a concerted effort to pass the guard with about twenty seconds to go. And he makes it to half! Oh man!

So, a dominant but aesthetically displeasing performance from Bader. Good for Bader, bad for us. “I wasn’t just laying there, was I?” Eliot asks his team. Well, maybe a little, kind of. Bader is a big strong dude to have on top, so I won’t hate, but yeah, a little, kind of.

Next up! Philippe Nover and George Roop. Nover’s training montage reveals to us that Stankie likes to work in cargo pants, which — and this is just speculation on my part — if you’ve got mouth guards and, like, stop watches and such, I can see how that might be very practical. Frank Mir tells us that Roop is a warrior “in every aspect of the word,” except of course the literal one, the one meaning a solider who is warring in a war.

Yikes, Philippe comes out slugging to start round one and Roop is on his back — he sweeps only seconds later, however, so we’ve got a fight. Nover is looking for that good ol’ Kimura/ude garami sweep. Scratch, that, he works to full guard, closes it, and looks to finish with the Kimura, and finish he does, with Roop doubled over and just basically fucked, if I may speak both frankly and uncouthly. Nice work from Nover, who comes hard to the fullest.

“It feels good to be part of that,” Nogueira says, “I help them make their dream.” And that, friends, is Episode 11. We are shown a clip from Episode 12 in which Krysztoff refers to his fists as his wife and his son, and says he’s going to drive both of them through his opponents head. Man, I don’t know, that is muddled.

To our finale! Our non-TUF-Finale TUF finale, that is. And holy smokes, we’ve got Krysztof and Vinny kicking things off — this could be pretty great. Things get interesting about a minute in when Vinny seriously threatens from his back, but Krysztof smartly pulls out of the position and walks away. Man oh man does Vinny throw slow kicks. Krysztof’s, by contrast, are shorter, snappier, and unchecked; Vinny is just letting them land, and I can tell you from the expertise gleaned from my month or so of Thai boxing several years ago that that hurts. With 1:25 left in the round, Vinny pulls some guard, switches his hips and grabs the armbar, simple as that. My goodness this cat is slick as hell on the ground. My guess is that Vinny subs the heck — the heck — out of Bader in the final, but what do I know.

Hey it’s Junie! He thinks that he’s gotten worse since he’s come on the show. He’s convinced that he’s going to lose on national television because he’s not at home training. Wait, what? He seriously doesn’t want the fight, which is baffling. This guy is the most emotionally retarded guy in the history of The Ultimate Fighter by far, and that’s pretty remarkable. Ha ha, right on cue he throws a coffee mug and tries to punch a sitting man in the face. Have you ever encountered a person whose whole deal is easier to read than Junie Browning? The most textbook example of an insecure guy fronting with hair trigger tough guy nonsense to cover it up that has ever been seen. Unreal, unreal stuff. When Dana confronts him with the obvious, the obvious fact that Junie is trying to get himself kicked off the show so he’ll have a ready-made “I’d have won it all EXCEPT FOR HOW . . .” excuse, Junie gets all “hyuck hyuck ahm from KenTUCKy and ah don’ know wuht awl this iiiiiis.”

Dana takes this to the fighters and talks about whether Junie should be kicked off or if somebody should have to beat him off (volunteers?), and they all want him to stay. Well, fine.

Round one begins with Junie touching his toes for some reason. Efrain refrains (oh man “Efrain” and “refrain,” so close! so close!) from just plain kicking him in the head in that instant, which is sportsmanlike, I suppose. Both fighters snap out crisp little low kicks, Junie throws some hooks, but finds himself planted on his back one minute in. Soon after, however, he finds his feet. Efrain’s punches are straighter than Junie’s, and he connects with a stiff jab. Junie works for a single-leg takedown against the cage but to no avail. Clinch, knees from both fighters. Then a couple of minutes of indifferent kickboxing that doesn’t do anything for me.

So round two, then. Junie tries the spinning backfist, the sidekick, all the Karate Kid stuff he can think of in the first fifteen seconds. None of it connects. Oh hey, Junie’s right hand did, though. I think Efrain took round one, and Junie is leading in round two? Efrain takes him down at the three minute mark, however, and quickly moves to half. Junie is just holding on tight, rather than trying to work up on to his side, which is not a good sign. For Junie, I mean. Efrain is elbowing Junie’s thighs unmercifully, which is a fine tactic. Hey! He finishes from the top with a d’arce! I love it! Total MMA forum member Cory, a noted d’arce enthusiast, is no doubt pleased with this turn of events. Frank Mir thinks Junie simply quit, looked for a way out and found it. I can’t say I disagree. Efrain vs. Phillipe could be a nice little fight!

Junie is persisting with his strange reasoning that there is no way he could adequately prepare for this fight because he is surrounded by first-rate coaches and facilities and not his familiar bluegrass surroundings. He answers his coach’s questions about why he didn’t stick to the gameplan they developed by saying, “it wouldn’t have worked,” which, even at this stage of things, surprises me. This guy is beyond hope. A complete write-off. As a fighter, for sure, and probably a number of other things, too. Frank Mir, having lost a bet, has his pretty pretty hair shaved by Nogueira. You know what, not a bad look for him.

And that’s it! Another season in the books, and, while the show is really in a keeps-on-keepin’-on kind of mode, and there were few truly good fights, we had some laughs, right? We had Junie, at least. In closing I would like to thank the good folks at UGO.com who were so generous as to pay me quite lovely sums for many of this season’s recaps; the fine fellows of Total-MMA and its forums for their continued support and encouragement; and also the generous souls who make these things available so I don’t have to remember to record this blasted thing every week, or, heaven forefend, actually watch it when it’s on. But of course my deepest thanks to you, dear readers. It is your continued passion for finding shit out about a show you missed that makes this all worthwhile.

Enjoy the Finale! We’ll talk in the spring for TUF 9, if not before, friends.