Mike Dolce’s “Ultimate Fighter 7” blog: week 6
Iâ€™ve been waiting two whole months for last nightâ€™s episode of â€œThe Ultimate Fighter 7â€ to air.
The anticipation has almost been too much to for me. I was like a little kid waiting for Christmas, only this was way better.
You see, Santa Spike had brought all the good little girls and boys a glorious gift tonight.
That gift was cold, sweet justice, served straight to the face of Jeremy May, compliments of Matt Brownâ€™s left foot, leaving a broken, bloody nose and a suffocating mouthful of good old humble pie for Jeremy to chew on.
Now, nobody died, Jeremy is ok, back to practicing Jeremy-Jitsu Iâ€™m sure, so just relax a second and hear me out.
My reasons are admittedly selfish.
I wanted to see Jeremy May get kicked into a coma by Matt Brownâ€™s foot for a second time! And with my DVR, I can relive that glorious moment anytime I need to crack a smile and pontificate on lifeâ€™s universal truths!
You certainly do reap what you sow.
Before you cast me as some sort of evil and crazy man, I must let you know that I have my reasons.
â€œIf it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.â€ â€“ Romans 12:18
In my daily life I try to follow the teachings of the Bible. Much of the Bible I do not know as well as many others.
Some lessons though, have shaped the kind of man I have grown to become and Romans 12:18 is one such lesson.
After weeks of rationalizing Jeremyâ€™s behavior to the cast and production staff as a simple social ineptitude, a cry for attention that should be sympathized with, I extended my hand to Jeremy many times as a friend and confidant only to feel it smacked away with a daily barrage of cruel misdeeds. Some of which I can not yet tell, as we are barely half-way through the season.
Let me back this story up a few months.
My first impression of Jeremy May was not very pleasant. Standing in the living room of the fighterâ€™s house talking to my new roommates, I turned to my left and saw a tall, dark man, standing in the open kitchen about 15 feet from me, wearing a burgundy and black bathrobe, styled and chosen as a direct result of one Mr. Hugh Heffner!
Identical in design to Heffâ€™s in every way, except Jeremyâ€™s â€œrobeâ€ was made of Walmart cotton and Mr. Heffnerâ€™s â€œidentityâ€ is woven from the quiet dreams of pubescent American males and the sweet scented sweat of blossoming buxom beauties that all live just next door.
But, I digress.
The BAMFâ€™s (as he likes to call himself) robe was open to the naval and tied in a way as to show off his bare torso? His hair was freshly styled with a gel like substance and he appeared to have oiled his body with some kind of lube? He was pacing the kitchen with no true reason other than to be seen? It was quite creepy!
I slammed my eyelids shut as if I had just been maced and turned back to the living room wondering what I had gotten myself into. Where is my contract? I want to see the fine print!
â€œIs that guy really wearing a Playboy jacket and posing for a house full of dudes on the very first night? This must be a gimmick by the producers,â€ I thought to myself.
â€œEither heâ€™s a homosexual or a bleeping bleep,â€ the fighter seated next to me said. (Well, he actually used slightly more offensive words than I care to relate, but you get the picture.)
Unfortunately for the cast, Jeremy did not turn out to be a homosexual.
Though, he did prove to be a big smelly turdâ€¦and no matter what wrapper you cover a turd in, it is still quite offensive to anybody in its vicinity, as Jeremy tried very hard to be.
That is my first impression of The BAMF, and as many chances as I gave him to alter my opinion in those first four weeks, Jeremy failed miserably each time.
By the way, The BAMF is an acronym for The Bad Ass Mother Fu**er. That is Jeremyâ€™s â€œofficialâ€ nickname. Yes, it really is. He made it up himself.
As far as training goes, Team Rampage really only had seven members, aside from the coaches that could be counted on as training partners, because Jeremy never actually trained.
Well, scratch that, he did train three whole times that I am aware of. Mind you, Team Rampage trained twice per day, seven days per week for six weeks.
Am I coming off a bit too harsh here? There were some positives.
As it turned out, Jeremy wasnâ€™t totally self-absorbed, he stepped up and did his part to help out around the gym while the rest of us were busy training.
You see, Quinton â€œRampageâ€ Jackson is human being, and as such, probably has normal, healthy bowel movements each day, just like most other human beings, but being the champion of the world in addition to taking on this coaching job, Rampage was a very busy man.
Jeremy, possibly concerned for the health and well being our coachâ€™s sphincter, saw fit to follow him around the gym each day with his head shoved so far up his behind, I actually thought Quinton was a centaur for two full weeks!
Until of course, Quinton stepped into the octagon, then Jeremy ran off to the bicycle.
With that much ass kissing, Iâ€™m genuinely surprised that Rampageâ€™s backside didnâ€™t get extremely chafed. Or, maybe that is why Tinactin was brought in as a sponsor? Hmmm?
Jeremy May proved to be lacking as a person, lacking as a roommate, lacking as a teammate, but most importantly lacking as an athlete.
He did himself a huge disservice by acting in a way that would ensure an inordinate amount of air time, yet ostracize himself from a terrific group of young athletes and ruin his reputation on an international scale.
Had Jeremy focused on his craft and trained seriously for his fight with Matt Brown, maybe the result would have been different?
Mike Dolce is a cast member of â€œThe Ultimate Fighter 7.â€ He is a professional fighter, strength coach and sports nutritionist. For more information, to read past blogs or learn about â€œThe DOLCE Dietâ€ go to www.MikeDolceMMA.com