This was a weekend of highs and lows.
Not just in the Octagon, but for me personally. My dog began yelping in intense pain while I was covering the Fili-Johnson fight. Not because of the fight, but because her back leg suddenly stopped working. I was up until 4 a.m. in an animal hospital with a sad and frightened pup. We still don't know what the issue is. That was after my work laptop died, and before I had to kill a Texas-sized roach in my apartment. I hate roaches.
But, between these events, Justin Gaethje knocked out James Vick.
Sometimes, the interwebz is just great. pic.twitter.com/2x3zNv6g70— Petey Passguarté (@PeteyandJia) August 26, 2018
It was a pleasing knockout in every way. Aesthetically, it was simple but satisfying, a leaping left hook into a huge overhand that planted Vick face-first onto the canvas. Mentally, it was a relief that Justin Gaethje — a man we have grown to love for his philosophical commitment to unmitigated violence — didn’t have to go through another war ... or suffer another late knockout. Spiritually, it was pleasing because Vick is the highest profile fighter to stick with cultish coach, (alleged) rapist Lloyd Irvin. Emotionally, it was pleasing because James Vick had talked so much shit beforehand, a pleasure that was compounded by Gaethje’s acknowledgment afterwards that he was happy he knocked Vick out cold.
The Internet wasn’t slow to pick up on this, sharing my joy, quickly generating memes of a dejected Vick in the way that only the internet can. Vick will recover, but the sport has a brutal duality that must be endured by all who step into the Octagon, especially those who talk a lot of trash beforehand.
This head of Homer Simpson on Justin Gaethje is my current attitude toward adversity. Life can come for you, but Justin Gaethje met it head on, and sometimes that’s the only appropriate response.