UFC 159 is official

After Chael Sonnen and Jon Jones swoop in and temporarily save The Ultimate Fighter ratings they will fight for the light-heavyweight belt. The date and place rumors have been swirling around but the card is now official. It’s UFC 159: Jones vs Sonnen, and will take place on April 27th at the Prudential Center in Newark, NJ.

And it seems the UFC is scrapping their historical format of using cool little titles for their cards like “Redemption” or “Hostile Territory” and just going with the names of the main event participants. They’ve been doing this for a while now and it’s a welcome change. That shit got played out a few years ago. Plus it’s just difficult to continually come up with sensationalist nouns when you’re running thirty plus shows a year. And it adds a little continuity seeing as they run events on three different networks and pay per view.

The new season of TUF premieres January 22nd on FX, and presumably will be, without question, “the craziest season ever.” But the key to TUF is to dramatically lower your expectations. If you can embrace the inevitable disappointment, it’s palatable. Just imagine sitting there at the dinner table, fork and knife in hand, waiting for that juicy porterhouse, and the waiter brings you a bowl of corn flakes instead. Sure, it’s nowhere near what you wanted and expected, but once you dig in them shits aint half bad. Plus, whether you love him or hate him, Chael is must see tv.

Let’s just hope the coach’s curse has been lifted and these two actually get to fight. Jones can meditate in his room. He doesn’t need to go to the Great Falls in Paterson where he’s certain to witness another felony.

Luckily for me, Newark is a 12 minute train ride from my house, so I will be attending. I already conned my boss into paying for the tickets, although that may have backfired somewhat. The original plan was for him to purchase two tickets for me and a companion of my choosing. Recent remarks by him lead me to suspect he may actually want to attend as well. Selfish bastard.

It’s all good though. There’s always a silver lining. Perhaps I can spike his drink, take compromising photos of him in a Newark flophouse, dressed in leather with a transvestite prostitute, and ensure eternal job security and generous semi-annual pay increases.

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