All language subtitles for ZZ.Champion

And roll sound, please.

All right,
so just be thinking of anything

you'd like to include while we set up.

We'll be ready to get started
in just a minute.

All right.

Do you know
anything about his parents?

A few things.

Good, because we couldn't find anything.

And we also couldn't find
any military records for a Mickey Kelley.

Yeah. Well,
there's a reason for that.

Which is?

How much time you got?

As long as it takes.

We're rolling.

Okay, just start by telling us
how you two met.

I met Mickey Kelley
later on in our lives, back in 1991,

when he had just gotten back
from Desert Storm.

He retired from the Marines.

I was working at a restaurant
called El Patio.

I was valeting cars.

Mick was just a customer,
when this asshole cut in line,

ordered me to get his ride first.

When I said no,
he started calling me names.

Shit like "beaner", "taco."

Little fight broke out.

Before I knew it, Mick jumped in,
pulled the guy off me,

but the guy had friends with him.

I tried to help, but... Fuck.

Mick had it under control.

He wiped the floor with all of them.

Crazy thing was, he never threw a punch.

And that was it. It was over.

I thanked him.

And afterwards, I went around,

got his piece of shit car,
brought it to him.

And then that dude,
he looked me right in the eye,

and he said, "Thanks a lot, Taco."

Now I saw what this guy could do,
but I just had to fuckin' ask him--

"What did you just call me?"

And I think he was a little surprised
by my tone, but he said,

"Hey, sorry, man.

I thought them was your friends
and they was calling you Taco."

After that, he just broke out
into the biggest grin...

and he became
the best friend I ever had.

Was Mickey Kelley really
that amazing of a fighter?

People seem to think
that the Holy Grail of MMA videos

is the Rickson Gracie
versus Yoji Anjo fight.

But it's not.

It's Kelley versus Blaine.

And people think that it didn't happen?
That just makes me laugh.

'Cause I was there.

It all happened back in the early '90s,
before the sport even had a name.

- Yeah.
- Water?

- Thank you
- You are welcome.

Did you see this article?

I'm thinking maybe a pink one or a blue.

Here's your water.

So when we got to the airport,

- they told us our flight was overbooked.
- Thank you.

Which left only one open seat
in first class.

And I wanted my husband to have that,

'cause it supports his back a lot better.

Well, I just had to ask,
'cause for a minute there

I thought he was upset
'cause I was bad company.

No, and it may seem very silly,

but I miss him.

We're on our way to Dubai
to celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary.

- That's where we met.
- Oh, wow.

Wow, 50 years. Congratulations.

Since our last child left for college,

we haven't been apart
more than four or five hours at a time.

Maybe the person sitting next to him
would swap chairs with you.

Excuse me.

Pardon, sir. Do you happen to know
who's seated in the chair next to you?

A real nice young lady
and she's heading back that way.

Is that right?
I appreciate it, sir. Thank you.

- Hi.
- Hi.

I, uh...

Shit, um...

You're in seat 5F, right?

Yeah.

Look, I know it's--
I know it's a long shot,

but any possibility
you'd be willing to trade--

Relax. I already told Mrs. Miller
I'd give her my seat.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we will be serving dinner...

So, uh, you, uh...

You gals in some sort
of beauty pageant or something?

No, no. We're, uh--

We're doing this modeling shoot
for this new fur company in Dubai.

You're a fashion model.

No, well, it's my-- It's my first time.

The, uh-- the law office I work in,
they represent this modeling agent

and he was nice enough
to give me the opportunity.

- Oh, okay.
- Mm-hmm.

So you-- you a lawyer?

I'm a paralegal, actually,
but it's kinda just like a backup plan.

- A backup plan.
- Mm-hmm.

So what's the-- what's the main plan then?

To be a stay-at-home mom.

Well, once I meet my husband, of course.

What? Why are you
looking at me like that?

No, no, you just--
you just don't hear that every day.

That sounds good.

So what about you?
What brings you to Dubai?

- I'm-I'm-- I'm just going to teach.
- Teach what?

Uh, combatives. It's like martial arts.

Specifically, the martial art's
called jiu-jitsu.

It's-it's a Brazilian variation.

Is it like karate?

No, ma'am, it's nothing like karate.

It's-- Uh, to the layman
it would look like, uh...

- Olympic wrestling.
- Uh-huh.

The only difference being,
you get your opponent

to concede either physically or verbally

by chokes, joint locks,
bone manipulation, stuff like that.

God, it sounds horrible.

No. No, no, no, it's not-not horrible.

It's easy. I mean,
if something goes wrong,

- they tap and the match is over.
- Yeah.

- It's relatively safe. It's not--
- Really? It's safe?

Well, what-- What happened
to your eye, then?

Okay, well, that-that was an accident.

I mean, that-- Normally,
things like that don't happen.

So you teach real fighting, huh?

- Yes, ma'am.
- You know, I gotta say, I...

I do not like fighting.
I don't like watching it.

When I was a kid, my, uh--

my cousin got into it with this other boy,

and both ended up all bloody
and it was awful.

I'll never forget it.

Well, if it makes you feel any better,

I-I don't train to start fights,
just end them if I need to.

I guess that makes me feel
a little bit better, yeah.

Well, good. Good.

I'm Mickey, by the way.

- Layla.
- Layla.

It's very nice to meet you, Layla.

It's nice to meet you too.

Oh, my God. Did I drool on you?

I'm so sorry.

It's... It's okay. It's okay.

I didn't have the heart
to wake you up, so...

Oh, my God. Did we land already?

We did, yeah.

I need to-- I need
to get back with the group.

There's a shuttle picking us up.

I'm at the, uh, Scorpione Hotel.
Layla Boudreau.

- Look me up.
- I will.

Shit.

Write it down.

Don't screw this up, son.

Welcome.

First of all, I'd like to thank you all
for joining me here today.

And a really big thanks to Amin's father
for facilitating this lesson.

He flew me out all the way
from the United States of America

to talk about something
I am very passionate about.

Maybe that passion
will become contagious,

and you all will adopt it
into your lives as I have mine.

I had the opportunity to learn Brazilian
jiu-jitsu straight from the source,

so I will do my best
to pay homage to my sensei,

Professor Renzo Gracie.
So let's get started.

So I will need a volunteer.

Who wants to help me out?

Amin, please, join me up front.

I really appreciate the opportunity, sir,
so thank you. Thank you very much.

Thank my son.

He is the one who introducing me
to this Brazilian jiu-jitsu.

Well, he is an excellent student.
Very eager to learn, as well.

He's eager to learn to defend himself
against his big cousin.

Right.

Mr. Kelley, tell me, if you are as good
as he says you are,

why do you not fight?

Well, there's plenty of times in life
when you're forced to fight as it is.

You know, I do my best to not supplement
that number, you know?

Then why do it at all?

It's helped me. Changed me, even.

Been a... sort of medicine for me
in a lot of ways.

- I see.
- Plus, I think everybody needs

a little meritocracy in their lives.

And a jiu-jitsu match
is just that, you know?

Once you clap hands and go,
there's no hiding.

That mat is gonna expose every lie

and confirm every truth with each roll.

It truly holds a mirror up to you,
right in your face, every single day.

And I love that about it.

Um, I'm sorry, sir.

I just recognize a friend of mine.

Would you-- Could I just
briefly go say hello?

Of course, please.

Be right back, sir.

Layla.

- Hey.
- Mickey. Hi.

Hi, it's, um...

It's good to see a friendly face.

Yeah, I, uh... I looked for you at
the hotel, but they didn't have your name.

Yeah, um, they put all of us
under the host's name.

He's some Greek fur magnet,

I don't even--
I can't even pronounce his name.

Is everything okay?
'Cause you seem upset.

- Well--
- Miss Layla.

You must return to the table
and apologize right away.

- He deserved it.
- Miss Layla, in Dubai,

a woman does not touch a man,
let alone strike him.

But he's allowed to touch me all he wants
wherever he wants?

You misunderstand the customs here.

You've caused him tremendous
embarrassment.

I don't care if he's embarrassed,
he deserves it.

If Mr. Kostopoulos wants to discuss
modelling work over drinks,

then you must oblige.

Please, return to the table right now,
or you'll be in breach of contract.

Listen, buddy, I'm sure
we can work something out here.

Who is this?

Who are you, sir?

Just a friend of hers. Why?

What do you do in Dubai?

Work for Sheikh Bin Khalid.

Ah, you're employee of His Highness.

What do you do?

Kitchen supervisor? Dog walker?

- Secretary?
- No, sir.

I teach jiu-jitsu.

Ah, yes.

Alvah here, he doesn't like jiu-jitsu.

Why do you not like it? I forget.

It's for, uh, how you say?

Faggots.

Look, Mickey,

don't worry about me,
I'll-I'll take care of it.

I-I don't want to cause you
any trouble, okay?

Yes, Mr. Mickey, please go.

Allow me to have a conversation
with my employee.

Do you wanna talk to this guy?

I'll be fine.

I'll be sitting right over there.

Layla, please, come and sit.

We must have a discussion.

So I see you met Dimitris Kostopoulos.

My cousin helped him start
a tiny fur market.

Now he basically runs the entire trade.

One of the wealthiest
non-Emiratis in the city.

Do you know the girl?

Yes, sir. I-I just met her
on the flight over, but...

She's a prostitute.

- No, sir. All due respect--
- It is the truth.

Dimitris likes to hire
beautiful Western women

and pay them $50,000 to come here
and model for his private line of fur.

And when they get here,
they are encouraged to do more,

and they always say yes.

You see his bodyguard, Alvah?

Ex-Spetsnaz.

Also an Israeli martial arts
expert in, um... Krav Magoo.

It's Krav Maga, sir.

- Excuse me?
- It's-it's... Krav Maga.

Dimitris says he has killed eight people
with his bare hands.

Would you pardon me one more time, sir?

Excuse me.

So here's how it goes.

If you do not apologize to Mr. Kostopoulos
and spend a little time with him,

we will de-fund your return ticket

and you can find your own way
back to the United States.

You know, sir,

I can't help but feel like you might have
been trying to insult me

with the stuff about the dog walker
and the kitchen supervisor.

Or did I take that the wrong way?

'Cause if you want to insult me,
just have the courage to do it, sir.

Don't hide it behind words
that could be taken more than one way.

Look, I don't know who the hell

- you think are you are--
- Stelios.

Do you know who I am?

No, sir, I don't.

I just know I don't like you very much.

Layla, would you like to leave?

You're making me very upset,

and when I get upset, Alvah gets very mad,

and he will be here any second.

No, sir. I don't think he's coming back.

Call a doctor, quickly!

Salaam aleikum, Mr. Kostopoulos.

Is my friend troubling you?

No.

I think it's time we go, Mickey, no?

Please, give me a moment
and I will meet you in front.

Yes, sir.

Now, I could not hear
what you were saying,

but I do recognize that look.

So let me tell you this.

Mr. Kelley is my friend.

And I know you're a friend of my cousin,
but he has many.

I do not.

You are a guest here. Don't forget that.

Your Excellency,
please believe me when I tell you,

I meant no disrespect
to you here in your home--

Stop it, Mickey.

I insist you stay here one more week
and teach me Brazilian jiu-jitsu.

I'd-I'd be happy to get you started, sir.

I'm flattered, actually.

But could you possibly do me
one huge favor?

Could you get her the first flight home?

Done.

Hello.

Hey, good afternoon.

Are you friend of Mickey Kelley?

Maybe. Who's asking?

I'm Layla.

I met him a few weeks ago in Dubai.

I was hoping I could get a hold of him,
but I didn't-- I didn't get his number.

But he, um...
He mentioned this shop.

And he-- and he told me about you.

Told you about who, specifically?

You. You know, he said
that you were his-his best friend.

He give you a name?

Okay, um, this is
what he said it was: Taco?

Oh, my God.
I am-- I am-- I'm so sorry.

I shouldn't-- I shouldn't have come here.

Hey, I'm just kidding.
I'm totally just kidding. I'm Taco.

- Oh.
- Yeah.

He called me yesterday.
He sounded jet-lagged.

He was supposed to be here an hour ago,
but he hasn't shown up yet.

Oh. Did he mention me?

Uh... no.

Yeah, okay.

I, um-- I gave him
my number, but I guess--

I guess I shouldn't
have assumed that he...

Don't tell him I came here, okay?

I'm-I'm feeling a little bit
embarrassed by all of this.

There he is. Now he shows up.

Oh, my God, now he's gonna think
I'm some stalker, or something.

What-- No, what-- What's going on?

If he wanted to talk to me, he would've
called. I think I just misread all of it.

- Please, just don't tell him I'm here.
- Taco?

- Please.
- Hold on.

- Hey, bud.
- Hey.

Good of you to finally join me.

Sorry I'm late, man. I-I overslept.

I'm still pretty... pretty jet-lagged
from the trip, you know?

How was it?

- I met a girl.
- An Arab chick?

No, no, no, she's-she's
from North Carolina.

- She's--
- Okay, white girl.

Yeah, she's fucking beautiful, man.

And, uh... I-I got her phone number.

You know, she wrote it down

and it-it was on the nightstand
right in the hotel,

and I looked at it every night
before I went to bed.

And then the night before my flight
to come home, it's gone, you know?

- But I told her about you.
- Is that right?

- Yeah, I told her about the shop.
- Hmm.

But, I mean...

Fuck, she's probably-- She's probably
waiting for me to call, you know?

Yeah, maybe.

You know, Taco, I've never believed
in that "love at first sight" crap

they talk about in the movies.

It's like you say about music,
that it's in the bottom end.

- Yeah.
- Brother, she fell asleep

with her head on my chest for five hours,
and I couldn't move,

but I felt her heart, brother.

And it's strong, man.

It's got that bass you talk about, like--

Easy, bro.

You sound like an infatuated
little bitch right now.

Any chick hears you talking like that,

they're gonna totally
fuckin' own your ass.

Taco, I would marry this girl.

- Hey--
- I would marry her, I swear to God,

and I knew it after knowing her
ten minutes.

You know, you hear people
talk about "the one."

- Okay--
- She's mine.

Let's go eat, man. I'm fucking starving.

You're not even listening to me.

Totally am, bro.
Let me just get my wallet.

- Whoa, sorry about that.
- I'll be in the car.

I was not expecting him
to be such a... sissy about it.

Hey. You okay?

Yeah. Yeah. I, um...

I never, um...

I've never heard anyone say about me

exactly what I feel about them, you know?

She left her number,

and I gave it to him the next day.

I thought I may have
missed you or something--

That was it.

Those two were
fucking inseparable after that.

Layla got a job as a paralegal.

Excuse me, guys. Pardon.

Mickey continued bouncing
at this local bar

and training when he could.

There weren't any standalone
jiu-jitsu schools back then,

so Mick and some other guys
just rented some space at a McDojo.

- McDojo?
- Yeah, like, you know,

some other places you go to
and order chicken nuggets,

and you get that real chicken,

but then you go to Mickey D's,
and what you're gettin' isn't even real.

I get it.

I married them myself,
in bay number two of my shop.

So now, by the power vested in me,

in the name of Jesus Christ,

I pronounce you husband and wife.

- You may kiss the bride.
- Okay.

It was just us.

- Neither of them had...
- Thank you!

...any real family to speak of.

I did the interior for you guys.

I have a surprise for you.

- Yeah?
- Mm-hmm.

- What?
- Close your eyes.

Okay.

Hold out your hand.

- Okay, why--
- Keep your eyes closed.

- Keep your eyes closed.
- Okay, okay, okay, okay.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

You know, I never
really knew what I wanted.

But I do now.

I want my son to have
all the stuff I never had.

And I wanna start by making sure
he's got a godfather.

- Me?
- Of course you, man.

Come on, you're the best friend
I got on the planet.

Mickey'd been through
the foster system,

so he wanted to be sure
there was no chance

of that ever happening to his kid.

Hello?

Few months later,

he gets a call from his friend in Dubai

after he'd seen an early UFC event.

- It's great to hear from you.
- Who is it?

But this isn't just grappling, right?

This is like a-a real
dangerous fight, like on TV?

Well, yeah, I mean,
it's-it's no holds barred.

I just-- I don't understand, like, why...

why did you never
fight in one of those before?

Honey, I've never really
had a reason, you know?

But this is 25 grand just to show up.

And that's a downpayment
on a house for us.

And it's another 75 grand if I win.

Babe, I don't-- I don't know if I--

Babe... I can win.

Mickey'd been offered to compete

in an eight-man tournament
along with Marco Blaine.

Marco was a top contender
for the Vale Tudo Championship belt

and one of the best strikers
in the world.

Where's a real challenge?

Mickey was just a prodigy
in ground fighting.

I'd never seen him tap, and he rolled
with some of the best in the business,

like Pitt. That dude
was in the fucking Olympics.

You all right?

Uh, but this fight wasn't gonna be on TV.

Now, if you remember back in those days,
most states had banned MMA fights

because, uh, John McCain
and some other senators,

they thought it was too violent.

Matter of fact, one of the first American
promoters, Dick Mason,

he went and testified in Washington.

You're wasting your time testifying.

Can't even call that crap a sport.

The world's already got real athletes.

Mankind's always been
intrigued with finding its best athletes.

We're a competitive species.

Hell, we've even invented games
to try and measure a man.

McGwire and Sosa can park more balls
over a center field fence

than the rest of the planet.

Shaq can slam dunk
over almost anybody's head.

Hm. Mike Tyson can touch anybody's nose
without them even seeing him flinch.

Impressive, all of them.

But, uh, make no mistake.

Outside of the rule of law...

they'd all be doing my athlete's laundry.

In this sport,
there's no headgear, no gloves,

it's bare knuckles
on the side of your head.

The gloves are only there
to protect the hands,

and, in fact, only ensure
that the punching continues.

And as far as headgear,
although it prevents cuts,

the downside of that is that it does allow
for repeated concussion to the brain.

Sanctioning MMA fights
was kinda like--

It had us back up
against a brick wall, but, you know,

once that Pandora's Box was open...

people were hungry for it.

So these rich Arab guys
started putting on

their own tournaments in the desert,
gladiator-style.

Literally just saying, "I wanna see
this guy and this guy fight."

Offering them money, flying them out.

We all flew out to Dubai
for an event and I...

I was to be in the corner
with my best friend.

Breathe in for me.

Breathe out.

He was more than ready,

and there wasn't any doubt in my mind
that if he got to fight Blaine

and he could get him to the ground,

that he'd completely annihilate him.

All is good.

- Okay, thank you very much, Doctor.
- You're welcome.

Hey, Doc.

I saw you make a face just now.
Why'd you make a face?

There are eight men in this tournament.

Seven of them have
a resting heart rate of 85.

One of them has a rate of 42.

Your friend is either very confident...
or very naive.

And the winner, Marco Blaine!

Next, we have Mickey Kelley,
from the United States.

And Tadashi Yamamoto, from Japan.

Gentlemen, you may begin.

There you go!

That's right, hang on!

And our winner, by submission,
at 54 seconds,

Mickey Kelley!

For the first match of our semi-finals,

we have Mickey Kelley,
from the United States.

And Razak, from Nigeria.

Gentlemen, begin.

Nice.

There you go.

Bring him down. Bring him down.

There you go!

Let's go!

The winner, by submission,

Mickey Kelley!

Everyone was hoping it would
come down to Marco and Mickey.

And they got their wish.

After Mickey's first two fights,

Mickey was heavily favored to win,
and not just by me.

For our main event, we have Mickey Kelley,
from the United States.

And Marco Blaine, from Brazil.

Gentlemen, begin.

Mickey went down immediately,

with his hand still reaching
for that handshake that was never coming.

We had an agreement--

that I wouldn't throw in the towel
unless he was unconscious.

Mick, I'm throwing the towel!

There was a pleading in his eyes like...

I should have listened to her.

It was one of the most vicious beatings
I'd ever seen in my life.

He was never even in the fight.

Mickey suffered a broken eye socket
and a detached retina.

He also had a partial detachment
in his right eye

and was at risk for losing
his sight altogether.

He would never be medically cleared
to fight again.

His son was born a month later,
on his 40th birthday.

And in a strange way, it couldn't have
happened at a better time.

And all the pain and the depression
he was going through,

it just... vanished when Kyd was born.

The next few years
there was no more talk about fighting.

Just got a new job and focused
on being a dad.

They were getting by.

Until around late 1998,

when MMA was fighting to get
sanctioned in the US.

Red Dragon Dojo.

Yes, ma'am.

Yes, ma'am, I can get him.
Just one second.

Our sport was incorporating rules
and becoming legit,

going mainstream pretty quick.

But I knew that sooner or later,

seeing the guy who took so much from him
on all the magazine covers

would probably start to get to Mick.

More commitment, Veronica.

Nice, Chelsea.

Hey, uh, Jimmy.

Yes, Michael! What?

Uh, it's your girlfriend.

What the hell does she want?

All right, guys, keep it up.
I'll be right back.

What?

After pushing a broom
during the day,

Mick would pick up extra cash by teaching
private lessons in the evening.

Okay, now nothing
outside of what I've already taught you,

but now I'm gonna throw 'em at random.

Speed it up a little bit, okay? You ready?

Fold the wrist first.

Good job. Fold it first.

Palm over knuckles, elbows together.

Yes! Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

Nice! Good job, good job, good job.

- Daddy's home!
- Hey.

Hi.

I think I remember having a son

when I left for work.

I wonder where he is.

Hmm. Maybe he left for college already.

Where are you, little shit?

Daddy, can you tell me
the story about Mommy's famous chicken?

You want Daddy to tell you
that story again?

- Mm-hmm.
- That's a good story.

I wanna say it was 1492.

Oh. It was a really long time ago.

Mommy and Daddy were sailing
the ocean blue with their friend Chris.

- Columbus? That one?
- I-I think that's-- It rings a bell.

We were looking for a place called America

'cause that's where they were having
the chicken finger world championships.

But we only had one chicken left.

- Mommy says it's not true.
- It is true.

Mommy's just being humble.

Remember what Daddy says,

"We never let the world
see us beating our chest"?

That's Mommy.

Well, Mommy appreciates
how much Daddy likes her cooking,

but that story... No.

But they are the best
chicken fingers in the world.

- Finish up your supper, dude.
- Mmkay.

- I love you, dude.
- Love you.

What's going on?

You're working tonight, aren't you?

Yeah.

Will you tell me about him again?

- Saint Sebastian?
- Yeah, is he dead?

Well, he's not dead.

But he was shot full arrows
and left for dead.

But because of his incredible fortitude
and endurance,

he survived.

That's why he's the patron saint
of soldiers and athletes,

'cause he never once gave up.

- Pretty cool, huh?
- Mm-hmm.

Let's say our prayers
and go night-night, okay?

Okay.

- Angel of God...
- My guardian dear,

to whom God's love commits me here.

Watch over me throughout the night,

and keep me safe within your sight. Amen.

Amen, dude.

Jerome.

- No!
- Gentlemen.

- Don't touch me!
- How's everybody doing over here?

We're doing all right.
How can I help you?

Can I ask you gentlemen to move
to the other end of the bar?

Happy to buy you a couple rounds on me.

I think I'm pretty comfortable right here.

- Yeah.
- I understand that,

but if I can't get you
to the other end of the bar,

I'm gonna have to ask you to leave.
I don't wanna do that.

We want everybody to have a good time.

Thank you. These guys won't stop...

- Ma'am.
- ...hitting on my boyfriend.

- Shut up, you stupid bitch.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa...

No, no, no...

Fuck's sake, Jerome!

- Sorry, Mick.
- Get 'em out!

Fuck!

I knew it was
gonna happen sooner or later.

I never wanted you
to go back to that job.

Baby, there were two of them, and fucking
Jerome wasn't even paying attention.

It doesn't ma-- You know
what every single doctor has said.

You could lose that eye.

It's the only time it's happened
in the last two years.

I got to keep bouncing

until I can build my student base.

There's no other way
to pay for Kyd's school.

Well, there are
plenty of other preschool--

Yeah, cheaper, not better.

I wanna give y'all the better stuff.

Look, babe, I could just go back
to the law office, then,

- if that's what we need to do.
- What, then we're gonna earn money

to pay somebody else to raise Kyd?
No, we're not doing that.

Bouncing is not a risk
that you should be taking.

I get in a car every day, don't I?

That's a risk. Come on.

That's not the same thing.

No, don't-don't do this.

Mm, this-this-this isn't just about money.

I can see it in your eyes.

This is about you needing to satisfy

this-this-this competitive urge it is,

or whatever it is, that you call it.

You want a fight.
You were looking for a fight!

Don't leave. Come on.

Again?

Yeah.

I see, I'm walking up now.

I mean, if I had
some more students for privates,

I wouldn't have to bounce.

But they all want an instructor
who will roll hard with them occasionally,

you know? And actually throw.

She's not gonna be okay with that.

Well, Mick, your doctor said
that you really shouldn't.

Come on, the doctors
are exaggerating, you know?

They're just trying to protect themselves
from lawsuits.

I-I got hit the other day,
nothing happened. C'mon.

A little hard rolling's
not gonna hurt anything.

Maybe you could try doing something

where you don't have to get hit
in the face on a daily basis.

Jiu-jitsu's all I know, Taco.

It's the only thing I'm good at, man.

I spent my whole life
trying to build a value to society

in hopes that someday
I could trade little bits of it.

Maybe get some money
to someday start a family,

and I-I can't lose that.

Without that, I'm-I'm-I'm mediocre, man.

And I'm scared shitless of being mediocre.

These two were hysterical.

Mick wouldn't even make it past midnight

because Layla would come
and get him every time.

They couldn't be mad at each other
for more than a couple of hours.

- Let's go home.
- Mm...

Mr. Kelley?

Yeah.

We saw this fight on TV,

and this one guy, he did this move.

I was wondering if you
could show it to us.

Yeah. Yeah, sure.

When your neck is inside
this triangle right here,

when I apply pressure,

it's actually gonna
collapse the carotid artery.

It restricts the blood flow to the brain,

and your training partner's
gonna either have to ask you to stop,

or he's gonna go unconscious.

So, now just-just get your hand ready,

- and when you feel it, you tap, okay?
- Okay.

- You ready?
- Uh, yeah.

Okay, here we go.

- You okay?
- Yeah. Can't you cause brain damage?

No, I mean, only if you hold the choke

well after your training partner
goes to sleep, but we're gentlemen.

- I mean, we-we don't act like that.
- That's horrible.

Belly down's even worse.

So you hide
his hands underneath him.

Then your training partner
doesn't even have the opportunity to tap.

It's not the nicest thing
in the world to do, but, uh--

I'll have to remember that next time I
find myself with a dude between my legs.

Josh, what are you doing?

Uh, thinking about learning
how to grapple.

I mean, all the MMA guys use some form
of it. At least the guys who win.

Their rules favor ground fighters.

Many techniques not allowed in MMA,
like bites, eye gouges

can easily stop a grappling attack.

Listen, Jimmy, he-he just asked me to show
him a position. I meant no disrespect.

I don't know why you keep wasting
your time with the gay wrestling shit.

Guys, let's get out of here.

What I'm teaching keeps them on their feet
and their opponents on the floor.

I know, I understand.

Yeah, but what if someone surprises you
from behind, takes you down?

Well, Josh, it depends
on the type of attack.

If he tries from the back,
I have elbows to the face.

Or if he tries to tackle me from the
front, I drop elbows right on his spine,

or I could box his ears. Whatever.

Yeah, that would, uh...

that would probably hurt.

You-you don't think it'd get you off me?

- I didn't say that, Jimmy.
- Huh, old man?

Why don't we try it?
Hm? Why don't we try it?

Come on. You're gonna stand there,

and you're gonna tell my students
that my techniques don't work?

Glove up and prove it.

I'm not telling your students
anything, Jimmy.

- Okay?
- Hey, no one has to get hurt.

Soon as you were to stop,
just, you know, tap out.

You're used to that, right?

Gentlemen, it's time to go.

I got a lot of cleaning to do
before class tomorrow. Let's go.

- Come on, Mick.
- Now! Come on.

Choke.

- Let's go, guys.
- Come on, Mick.

What, are you afraid
of a little demonstration?

I'll see you tomorrow.

What are you doing?

You wanna know what I teach?
I'll show you what I teach.

You wanna know why I think

- what you teach is garbage?
- Hey, guys.

I'll show you that, too.

Hell, I'll even give you a roadmap
as to what's gonna happen.

I'm gonna close the distance to clinch
without so much as taking a scratch.

I'm gonna take you to the ground,
I'm gonna mount you,

I'm gonna turn you over,
take your back,

and I'm gonna choke you unconscious.

And then just so you don't
think it was a fluke,

we're gonna do it all over again.

And I'm gonna do the exact same thing
in the exact same order,

and there's not a goddamn thing
you can do about it.

Okay.

You just know if you get too close,
I'm throwing for real.

What is going on?

I'm throwing with bad intentions.

Okay, pal.

Let's rock.

Son of a bitch.

- Oh, fuck you!
- Whoa. Did you see that?

Fuck you! Let's go again, pal! Come on!

Let's go! Come on! Bring it!

Shit, shit, shit!

Daddy's home!

- Hi, Daddy!
- Hey, dude.

- I am armed.
- Mm...

No, you're not. You're unarmed.

What has gotten into you?

He's watching TV.

All I had to do
was log on to one of those forums.

But nobody was online
that much back then.

I mean, shit, we still had dial up,
if you can remember that.

Anyway...

Turns out some interesting stuff went down
in Dubai a few months earlier.

So what do you think would be
a real challenge?

I don't have
any real challenge out there.

I run this division.

All my fights the same:
I win, I win, I win.

This guy don't try to win.

- He just tries to survive--
- Fuck you, man!

- Whoa!
- I'll take you on right now!

- Come on! Right now!
- Get the fuck off my stage!

Well, maybe Mr. Mason
would be a good challenger,

but it's never a good idea
to fight your boss.

Screw that guy.

What are you so mad about, Amin?

He's the best. Show respect.

It's manipulated to give him easy wins.

They're trying to make him
like Mike Tyson so they can make money.

Seriously, bro, where do you
come up with this crap?

Why doesn't he fight Miletich then?

Bro, he'd kill Miletich.

Miletich would mangle him.

No, Blaine's punches
are fucking dangerous, man.

Whatever. He's a cheater, anyways.

Oh, so he's a cheater now, huh?

I'll show you.

Wait, what?

Your dad has tapes of his tournaments?

Yeah, I found them a few months ago.
He used to keep them in a safe,

- but now they're just--
- Who's this big guy?

He looks badass.

White dude's gonna get ass-raped.

Oh, yeah? He was my instructor
when I was a kid.

Oh, shit.

You think that guy could beat Blaine?

Mickey Kelley!

Shoot... probably, yeah.

Again, watch.

...we have Mickey Kelley,
from the United States.

- And Marco Blaine, from Brazil.
- No way.

When was this?

Gentlemen, begin.

Wait a minute.

- Was he still bowing?
- Yep.

Dude, we gotta show my brother.

He thinks Marco's a god.

When's he back from London?

I'll just upload it to my site.

He wasn't even looking!

- What? That's bullshit.
- Back it up.

Bloody hell.

We should post it in the forum.
I'll bet it'll get like 1,000 views.

Squash it.

Pointless. It's been uploaded and ripped
a dozen times over.

Oh, get out of here.

You can hardly see either of them
from the distance of this video.

This thing could be a work.

It wasn't a work. This guy's good.

And that is clearly your boy.

Let me tell you something.

There is always
some backyard theoretical fighter

who thinks he can take on the pros.

They never succeed, they never will.

So bring me somebody else
besides some fucking journeyman.

Your number one contender's
on a six-month damage suspension.

You asked me who I thought
would be the biggest draw.

Now you log on to any one of these forums,

and you'll see that there's a ton of buzz
around this video.

So you want to give
some nobody a title shot

because he got sucker-punched by Blaine,
what, six years ago?

Jesus, the clown's lucky
that Blaine ended him so quickly.

You should watch the whole video.

'Cause this guy's no journeyman.

He is the real deal.

- Oh, says who?
- People. People that know.

And they're saying that Marco's claim
to being undefeated

is hollow because of this fight.

And as soon as this hits
the magazines, it's inevitable.

Everybody's gonna want to see a rematch.

Right?

This is a story.

This is the kind of story
that dream fights are made of.

I don't finance people's dreams.
I finance their do's.

Okay.

Well, this isn't his dream.

He doesn't even know about it.

I don't even know
if he would accept the fight.

Dude just kinda disappeared one day.

Who is he?

His name's Mickey Kelley.
Pitt knows him.

Personally, I-I felt sorry for him, man.

I mean... I mean, hell, had to be

like 40-something
when I caught back up with him.

And you-you can't just go that many years
without high level training

and expect to be competitive.

You know, I mean, at least not against
anybody who's good.

So, um, you know...

Jiu-jitsu constantly evolves,

and that's exactly what I told Mason,

but, you know, he insisted.

Hello?

Mick.

Is that Pitt?

Yeah.

How you doing?

Good, brother. How you doing, man?

- Good. It's good to see you.
- You too, man.

What the fuck you doing here, man?

You know, paying some bills.

- You know?
- Yeah, okay.

Hey, I heard about the new gym.
I'm, uh, I'm proud of you, man.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I knew you'd do something with wrestling.

Shit, man.

So what's, uh--
What's going on?

- Travis, this is Mick. Mick, meet Travis.
- How are you, man?

- What's up, man? Nice to meet you.
- Very nice to meet you.

He's been training with me for a little
bit, I'm looking to get him some fights.

I want him to get some more different
styles, and I was telling him

that you was a slippery motherfucker
back in the day, so--

Well, I appreciate that, man.

I was just wondering if, um--

You mind rolling with him a little bit?
See how he does?

- Yeah.
- Yeah?

Right-right now?

- I got my gear with me. I'm ready.
- If it's okay.

Yeah, we could, uh...

You want me to grab the broom or...?

- No, that's-that's--
- Okay. All right.

- Let's go.
- Okay, let's go.

- You good?
- Uh, yeah.

Yeah. Let's get it.
Let's get it. Let's get it.

Watch your neck. Watch your neck.
Watch-- Neck, neck, neck!

- You all right?
- Yeah, I'm good. I'm good.

That's a good warm up.

- Yeah. Yeah, yeah.
- All right?

Close the elbow. Hey, close--
Close the elbow right there.

Watch your neck-- Neck, neck.

He's looking for the-- neck.

Now, fight.

Watch the fade.
Nothing there. Nothing there.

A little hand play right here.

Uh-huh. Okay.

Beautiful shot, Travis!

Widen your base. There you go!

Uh-huh. Yeah.

Ah, he's reaching under.
He's reaching under.

Mother...

Turn the corner.

Watch the arm.

Watch the ar-- Turn into him.

Turn into him.

No. Breathe. No, no, you good.
He's going for the arm.

You all right?

Yeah. I'm good, man.

All right, Mick.
Give it to him straight.

You know, I think you know
you leave your neck dangling on that shot.

Uh, you know, on the single,
uh, run the pipe quick.

Uh, keep your elbows tucked just so I
can't get the Kimura grip figure-four.

I mean, this is nothing that Pitt can't...

- Chicken wing.
- ...fix, you know. It's, uh...

I mean, you clean those up, you'll be--
You'll be dangerous, buddy, I promise you.

Yeah, maybe I'll do that.

- Thanks, man. I appreciate it.
- Of course.

- Pitt, I'll see you outside.
- Yeah.

Okay.

- All right, TP.
- Yeah, good train.

Was that all right?

You really don't know what the fuck is
going on out in the world, do you?

What're you talking about?

Bro, that's Travis Prince, man.
He just won Brazilian nationals.

Like I asked you before...

What the fuck are you doing here?

Oh, trust me, he's still got it.
If he's injured, I can't tell.

Really?
Don't say anything to him just yet.

Nope, I won't mention it to him.

I'm actually thinking
about offering him a job,

so I don't want his head
to get too big if I do.

What do you mean?
What, you think the guy's that good?

Well, I'll tell you what,

if you do end up putting
this fight together,

my money is not gonna be on your boy.

- What? Are you joking?
- Yeah-- Let me put it this way.

If the fight goes to the ground,
your man is fucked.

You know I would, man.

Yeah.

Hey. What's going on?

So-- you know, let me, uh--

Let me talk to Layla about it,
and I'll-I'll call you tomorrow.

All right? Okay. Talk soon.

Who was that?

You remember-- You remember Pitt, right?

Terry? Yeah.

Well, he started an MMA
training facility a while back,

and he'd like me to teach grappling.

Baby, I wouldn't have to bounce any--

I'm so sorry.

So am I.

Just promise me you're gonna be careful.

- I will.
- Okay.

Watch the leg, though.
Watch the leg.

Hey, Pitt?

Pitt!

There he is. There he is.

What's up, brother?

Welcome home, baby. Welcome home.

When your opponent switches base,
head side, he's on top.

There's two options, really.

Opponent's head's going to be high.

So can you turn into me?

Now when I'm ready,
I'm gonna hip escape out,

and I'm gonna straighten that table.

Table disappears...

and I come to the top position.

Yes, yes, yes, yes.

Beautiful.

Where do his hands go?

To his face.

This hand is solely there to prevent me
from closing the distance to you.

Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.
Not for your face.

Guys, leverage and efficiency.

He's right over there. Hey, yo, Mick.

Guys, excuse me for one second.

- Dad!
- Dude!

I didn't expect visitors
on my first day of work.

What is happening right now?

- Oh, choke! I tap out! Daddy taps out!
- Okay, okay.

Well, we wanted to come and see
Daddy's new office.

Thank you.

This is amazing.

Daddy thinks so, too.

I'm very excited about this place.

Dad, when will I get to fight?

Well, if everything
goes according to plan, never.

- Why?
- Hey.

Daddy's already taught you
the self-defense aspects of jiu-jitsu.

And that'll get you out of just about any
problem that comes up to you.

But you're not getting
in a ring or a cage.

Daddy wants you to have
other options in life.

All I learned is fighting.

And I wish I had those options.

But I want you to be different.

Mr. Pitt says kids my age can fight.

Oh, is that what Mr. Pitt says?

I-I don't really recall having that
conversation with you... whatsoever.

'Cause I think I recall
having a conversation with Mr. Pitt,

and telling him "Not my kid."

- The kid would never fight.
- He-- Never.

Yeah, so when-when we were
talking, that we--

You weren't supposed
to mention that, man.

I just had to.

I'll tell you what I'll do...

- Pitt, throw me the glove.
- Here.

Give me your hand.

Put it in here. Right there.
Look at that.

When that fits, we'll talk about it.

- You understand?
- Yes, sir.

And for a brief moment,
everything seemed okay.

But, eventually, that video
caught up with him.

It's me.

All right.

Call his manager.

If the guy's even got one.

Now he's gonna take him down.

Textbook BJJ.

The winner,
by submission, Mickey Kelley!

That same day, I got a call
from Brian Burchman,

some big shot matchmaker.

He gave me a bunch of forums
to check out.

Sure enough,

all the talk was of Mickey being the only
fighter that could possibly beat Blaine.

The public was demanding a rematch.

But Mickey was 46 years old,
and out of training,

while Blaine was 31
and at the top of his game,

not to mention the other problem.

Your boy's becoming a legend.
He'd be stupid not to cash in on this.

Yeah, but he might have an issue
with the physical.

He's got a bad eye.

Don't worry, if he wants to fight,
I got a doctor for him.

Look, it doesn't matter what I say,
I know he'll want the fight.

He's not the problem.

Babe, it's $75,000
just to walk in the ring.

It's more than I make in a year.

I don't care if it's a million dollars.
I can't let you do it!

- Okay, could you just let me--
- No, for five years

I have felt guilty for letting you
do something so stupid.

Okay, I was young. I thought I could win.

I'm older now, I know I can't win.

I'll go there, I'll roll around,
at the first sign of trouble, I'll tap.

And we'll go home with some money.

Do you really expect me to believe

that when you get there you can get
in that ring with that fucking prick

and you're going to be able to resist
the urge to give him

the ass-kicking that he deserves? Really?

Really? Okay, well, go ahead.

Look me in the eye, and tell me that.

I can't.

I mean, when you met me,
I was great at something.

I was confident, and I was proud,

and I had this thing
that I carried with me everywhere.

You take that away from me,
and I'm not the same.

I'm not even--

I'm not even a man anymore.

I had somebody like that for a dad.

And I just don't want that around Kyd.

I need to face him.

I do.

No. No.

I was barely okay
with him teaching privates,

but this-this is just...

Crazy? I know.

Privates don't always try to hurt him,

but in-in a cage,
it's literally all they're trying to do.

- Maybe I can just--
- But I love him.

And it's a question
he needs answered, so...

If I don't let him do it,

it's going to eat away at him forever.

He's gonna end up resenting me
and I will lose him anyway.

Now I know why you two are married.

You're just as nuts as he is.

Promise me on your godson's head

that if I tell you to stop the fight,

that you will stop the fight.

Thank you.

Okay.

Okay?

I love you.

- A lot.
- I know, me too.

Before he even had a contract,
Mickey started training his ass off.

Come on, let's hit it.
Let's go, Mick.

- You got this, baby.
- Put in that work, baby.

Put in that work.

Keep working.

All right, here's the reality
of the situation, Mick.

If you stand it with this guy, you got
a life expectancy of 60 seconds, okay?

The longer you're up,
the more chances you got of getting hit.

All right, brother?

Building strength,

building speed.

- All right, baby. Come on, push it.
- Come on.

You're gonna need
to close the distance

and take him to the ground
faster than ever.

And once he's down,

you don't have unlimited time
like you did in old days, man.

You got five minute rounds, so you're
gonna have to submit him before the bell.

On top of that, Marco's been working
on his ground game,

so he's not the same jiu-jitsu newbie.

We're gonna give you the clinch strength
of a goddamn silverback, boy.

You hear me?

So that when you're on the ground,

you're gonna manipulate him
like a Gumby doll.

Working on techniques
that would help his left side

get protected as much as possible...

Forget the heel drop, okay?

Don't worry about taking his back
or nothing like that.

Blaine knows you're a grappler, okay?
He's expecting that.

Take him over the top.

Suplex.

...while trying new strategies
keep Blaine on his toes.

But it was all pointless.

Begin.

Mason had fought so hard
to bring the sport to the mainstream...

that he couldn't risk having a fighter
get massacred on TV.

So before officially announcing the fight,

he brought in a real doctor
for Mickey's physical.

Mickey passed everything with flying
colors up until the vision test.

There was no way Mick
was getting cleared.

That was March 8th, 2001.

His car was at my shop with a bad carb,
so I dropped him off at the doctor's.

Layla was gonna pick him up.

Me and Kyd were coming back
from Hobby Shack.

Grandma! Grandma Taco!

Look what Uncle got me!

- ...ran a stop sign...
- 6:00 p.m.

...crashing into a Volkswagen Beetle.

- I actually saw it on the news.
- First responders are on the scene.

Yeah.

Layla's death...

changed Mick in a way that...

I'll never be able to describe.

He never said it, but...

he felt responsible.

It was all over his face.

If only he hadn't...

Hey, dumbass!

I'm talking to you!

Hey, man, you all right?

- No, I'm good. I'm-I'm going.
- You all right, brother?

Everything okay?

I think Kyd was the only thing
keeping him alive.

Remember to tell
your mom about the honor roll, all right?

- Okay.
- She's gonna be very proud of you.

- And tell her I had you try sushi, okay?
- Okay.

You don't have to tell her you thought
it sucked. Keep that to yourself.

- Hey, dude.
- Oh, thanks.

Aren't you coming?

No, you know, I... I came earlier today.

- Oh.
- So this is, uh...

- This is your time. You go. Okay?
- Okay.

And tell her you're gonna
learn how to surf this summer! Huh?

And that you love her. That we...

That we love her, buddy.

- Night-night, dude.
- Night-night.

What about our prayers?

Yeah. Yeah, we can.

Angel of God, my guardian dear,

to whom God's love commits me here.

Watch over me throughout the night,

and keep me safe
within your sight. Amen.

You know, I really appreciate how much you
and your mom have helped out with Kyd.

Come on, bro.

You're family.

How you holding up?

Feels like a fridge fell on my chest, man.

Feel like my lungs just aren't filling up
properly when I breathe.

And I don't want Kyd
to see me like this, you know?

You're being really hard on yourself.

It's a tough thing you're going through.

You remember what I told you about, uh...

about my dad?

Yeah, he walked out on you.

Killed himself.

Right after he killed my mom.

Life gave him a couple hard knocks
and he took it out on us.

I guess he couldn't...
provide for us, you know?

So he just-- he just-- He fuckin' gave up.

And he took my mom with him.

And I'm...

I'm fucking ashamed of that, man.

When I got out
of the military, you know,

I-I took my mom's maiden name, legally.

I wanted to throw away everything
about that fucking O'Sullivan name.

I wanted nothing to do
with anything that he was.

- Why are you telling me this now?
- 'Cause I need you to know who I am.

And I don't want Kyd to see
that same defeat in my eyes, you know?

I want him to know
the Kelleys keep fighting.

We don't stop.

You know...

A good dad is not supposed to tell his son
how to live his life, you know?

He's just supposed to live it correctly
and let him watch.

And I know he's watching, man.

I just never... planned on doing this
without her, you know?

Listen...

You're gonna get through this.

I promise.

- God doesn't give you more than you--
- Don't, man.

Just don't-- don't bring up God.

I got some fuckin' words for him.

That's what Layla
would say if she was here.

Remember that time she showed up
at my place crying...

'cause you told her
you were gonna take the fight?

- You know what she said to me?
- No. What?

Was that the moment
that you got into that ring,

and you looked
that son of a bitch in the eyes...

He's gonna know he can win,
and he's not gonna stop until he does.

Guys. Gi's on, belts on.
Class starts in five minutes.

Hey, Mick.

Hey, listen, I, uh...
I heard about your wife.

I'm sorry, man. I'm really sorry.

Look, if you ever need anything...

I mean it.

I-I appreciate that.

Yeah. Okay.

Jimmy.

What are you doing here?

Well, I've been going over
what you did to me on the mat

for the past few years, and I, uh...

Well, I just-- I can't wrap
my head around it.

So I signed up for your evening class.

I'll be seeing you.

Yo, Mick, phone call.

Hey, Pitt, can you take a message?

Well, he says it's important.
Some dude from Dubai.

Some time in late July,

Mick got a call
from his old friend in Dubai.

Turns out, Dimitris found out about
the rematch that never happened

and offered to put it up himself
with the same purse.

Seventy-five grand just to show up,
and another 150 grand to the winner.

We got a fight.

Hey, who's the man of the house
while daddy's gone?

- I am.
- That's right.

So, anything Granny Taco needs,
you make sure she's okay.

Yes, sir.

And you be a gentleman,
and pay attention to her, okay?

- Okay.
- It's only five days.

So I'll be back before you know it.

And you know what? Daddy's flying again.

So maybe I'll talk to the pilot and see
if I can bring you back some wings.

I love you, dude.

I love you, too.

Needless to say,

after 30 days of hard training, we were
on a plane headed right back to Dubai.

I couldn't believe Mason
even agreed to let Blaine fight,

but I guess at his core,
he's just a fan like the rest of us,

and, you know, he wanted to see who'd win.

So, to keep it quiet,
he said 100 lucky witnesses max,

and that all attendees
would have their lips permanently sealed.

Ah! Welcome back to Dubai.

I appreciate the opportunity,
Mr. Kostopoulos.

Nice to see you again, my friend.

Wonderful to see you too, sir.

Again, thank you
for the hospitality with my friend.

Think nothing of it, Mickey.

I would have thrown the fight myself if I
would've known you'd still be interested.

Are you joking? He is stubborn.

I saw it seven years ago.

Doesn't know when he's beaten.

Now he comes here to risk
his health for only $75,000.

Is that the worth
of a man's health in America?

You care for a dollar
like I care for a million.

At least Marco,
he bargained with me a little bit.

I got him for 100,000,
and when he wins the extra 150,000,

he's going to buy a Ferrari Maranello.

This is what you are to him, a new car.

Ah! He is also ready.

Mick, you good?

Yeah, I'm good.

Weighing in at 168 lbs, Mickey Kelley!

Yeah, baby.

And his opponent...

weighing in at 170.9 lbs,

Marco Blaine!

They're talking about you, champ.

Your jiu-jitsu no work here, pig!

- Okay.
- No.

These are the terms,
as agreed to by both camps.

First, there will be no biting,
no headbutts.

Mr. Kostopoulos is taking wagers,
if you are so inclined, gentlemen.

I am so inclined.

- You?
- Yeah.

...if the opponent has a hand on the mat.

Anything else you need, princess?

Maybe some knee pads. What's up?

You can suck it.

Okay, gentleman. We will see you tonight.

Bin Khalid thinks you are brave.

But I know the truth.

You are not brave, you are stupid.

What really makes you think you can win?

I'm gonna make him quit.

You see, God, or Allah,
or whatever you want to call him,

he's got a message for all athletes
that get pushed far enough,

and he delivers it through lactic acid.

It's a by-product of muscle use.

Hell, it makes standing
even almost unbearable.

It's his way of saying that your organs
are gonna completely shut down

if you keep pushing yourself.

Well, your boy, when God talks to him?

I'm bettin' he's gonna listen.

And what about you?

I quit listening to God six months ago.

- You ready?
- Yeah, let's get out of here.

See him? I see him.

What is it?

Kelley.

That's not his name.

And now,
hailing from the United States,

in only his fourth professional fight,

Marine Corps veteran
and jiu-jitsu instructor,

Mickey Kelley!

How you doing, son?

Sit down. Sit down, here.
You're about to go to work.

I'm Dick Mason.

I'm the guy that, uh, tried to put
this fight together the first time.

The right way.

Apologies.

Medical exam, it was out of my hands.

Marine, huh?

I was a commanding officer myself
during the Gulf War.

I only lost one marine
under my eye the whole time.

That low number didn't make it
any better, though.

His Abrams rolled over
a pissant IED near Kirkuk,

the c-track de-wheeled.

He was an engineer,
just like myself when I enlisted.

He did his job to perfection.

He got out of that tank,
he almost fixed that shit...

'til a sniper found him.

Ear to ear.

Dropped him on the spot.

His best friend since he was in boot
was in the tank with him,

a guy named O'Sullivan.

Crew was ordered to evac,
the whole battalion was re-routed.

When they came under
a gun and mortar fire,

everyone obeyed, except for O'Sullivan.

You know, it turns out you never know
what a man's capable of

until you look him in the eye.

But he waited there for two days,

guarding his best friend's body
until it could be extracted.

Did it all with a sidearm,
a pistol, mind you.

A damn pistol.

When they asked him
why he did it after the fact,

he stood in front of this debrief panel
under threat of a DD

and he told them,
"Because the job wasn't done yet."

Really wish I could've looked that fella
in the eye before I called that pull.

Now, once the story got out,

all the bigwigs back in Washington,
they wanted to throw a medal at him.

I wanted to meet him myself
for my own reasons.

But we couldn't find him.

Apparently, he changed his name.

You ever hear that story before, son?

I always wanted to meet the man
that carried my son off that field.

Semper fidelis, Sergeant O'Sullivan.

Godspeed.

Here we go.

We have it. We're good.

Whoo! He looks good. He looks good!

We're gonna make so much money
betting against these idiots!

Hell, Vegas is gonna die
for these odds.

Taco, look, wearing
a frickin' sherpa.

This is amazing, bro.
Rematch of the century.

Ladies and gentlemen,
welcome to the fight

that everyone asked for,
only made possible

- by the Pope of Al Nasser Square...
- Here you go, over here.

...Mr. Dimitris Kostopoulos.

Now, without further ado,

a man that needs no introduction.

From Brazil, the undefeated VTC
welterweight champion,

Marco Blaine!

- Use your head.
- It's time, baby.

Use your head now, hmm?

Time to execute.

Come on.

His opponent,
hailing from the United States,

unknown to most, but celebrated by many,

a jiu-jitsu fighter and US Marine corps
combatives instructor,

with only three known fights
and a record of two wins and one loss--

Mickey Kelley!

- Let's go to work, baby.
- All right, listen, Mick.

You're better than this guy.
I know that, and you know that.

You have nothing to prove.

If something doesn't feel right,
let's get out of there safe, okay?

So watch that thick skull of yours.

I'm gonna go over there, say hi to him.

Mick, Mick, Mick.

Oha, Mickey.

I wouldn't miss this.

Good luck, man. Good to be here.

Professor Renzo.

I'm good.

Turn around, Mick. It's time. Let's go.

Gentlemen.

You know the rules.

Obey me at all times.

Protect yourselves at all times.

I want a clean fight. Understood?

If you want to shake hands, do it now.

To your corners.

Thirty seconds, bro.

If he doesn't get Marco down
in 30 seconds, it's no good.

- Let's go, baby.
- All right.

- Go to work.
- He looks good.

Ready?

Begin.

- Yes!
- That's what you want!

That's what you want, baby! Yes, sir!

Bring him down!

Protect, baby! Protect!

Yep. Here you go!

There you go, bring him-- bring him down!

Twelve seconds!
He got him down in 12 seconds!

Your world, baby! Your world!

Make him pay!

Nice!

There you go!

Here we go! Here we go!

- There you go, Mick!
- Give it to him! Give it to him!

Give it to him!

Yes! Yes, that's the sequence
right there. Yeah.

- Here we go!
- Yes, yes!

- Squeeze! Squeeze!
- Lock him! Lock him up!

Go! Go! Go!
Go! Go! Squeeze!

You got him!

He can't move! Break!

Break!

Whoa! What are you doing?
He had him!

- What are you doing?
- No headbutts.

- Dammit, the fight was over!
- To your corners!

What is this?!

- This is bullshit!
- Go see your cornerman!

- Come here! Fucking pussy!
- He had him!

No wonder they didn't wanna be on camera!
Let me see your face!

- Hey, one warning only.
- You're fine.

You're fine. He's good. He's good.

- You're good.
- You're good, Mick.

Next violation, you'll be disqualified.

Fighters, ready?

No! Start him on the ground!

- Fighters, begin.
- On the ground!

No! No! No!

Dammit!

- Make him pay.
- Cover your face, Mick!

Get up, baby! Get up!

Get up!

Back away!

There you go!

- Come on!
- Get up!

- Get up!
- Really?

On your feet!

Fight.

- Defense.
- Cover up, Mick!

Cover up, Mick! Mick, chin down!

Chin down, Mick!

Guard, baby! Guard!

Here it comes, baby!

- Yes!
- That's it, baby!

- He's hurt, baby! He's hurt!
- Yes! Yes!

Here you go!

Now he wants to take it to the ground?

You see his legs buckle?
He rocked him, baby!

Yes, your world! Give it!

Work the guard right there, that's right.

- Work the guard!
- Cover up, Mick!

- Control him! Posture!
- Cover up! Cover up!

Control his posture, Mick!
Control that!

- Cover up, Mick!
- Defense!

Cover up, Mick!

Don't go! Don't go!

Defense!

Turn your head! Get the hook!

Grab his arm! Grab his arm!

Grab his arm! There you go!

Keep it going! You got it!

Turn him!

Go! Go! Go!

Stay-stay heavy!

Come on!

Triangle! There you go.

- Grab him!
- There you go!

- Turn him!
- Yes!

- There it is!
- Let's go!

- Nice! Nice!
- Very nice!

- Motherfuck!
- Break!

He looks really bad.

Shit.

He popped my arm...

You're good.

- What's wrong?
- He can't see. At all.

It's just white streaks.

Mick, we're gonna have
to throw in the towel.

We can't.

What do you mean, we can't?

Mr. Kostopoulos...

You know, I thought about what you said.
You know, Marco wants a car.

Well, I want something, too.

I want a house and an education
for my kid.

That's nice, but you cannot win.

You know, you say a dollar to me
is like a million to you.

I can't argue with that.

So I got a proposition for you.

Why don't you keep your 75 grand?

I'll show up tomorrow for free.

But, if I happen to win,
you give me that million.

I trust your word's good?

Bin Khalid thinks you are brave,
but I know the truth.

You're not brave, you are stupid.

What really makes you think you can win?

It's all or nothing.

You stupid fucking hick, Mick!

I may have to eat
a few punches to get to him,

but if you can guide me to him,
I can submit him.

- Mick--
- Listen to me.

I had my head on his chest.

It's all tweeter. There's no bass.

He's gonna quit.

I swear to God, he's gonna quit.

All right, you guys. Stool out.

I'm gonna guide you through this thing.

But you're gonna have
to listen for my voice, okay?

Layla's gonna be for left,
Kyd's gonna be for right.

All right?

Three steps straight out.

Ready? Begin.

Hands up, baby.
Hands up. Hands up. Let's go.

Hands up, hands up, hands up.
Hands up, baby. Hands up.

Layla. Layla. Layla.

Layla.
Layla. Layla.

Layla. Layla. Layla.

- Clear that space, baby.
- Here you go.

- Shit.
- Here comes another one.

- Distance, distance.
- Ah.

Clear that space, baby.
She's close. Attack. Attack.

Put those hands up, baby.

- Put 'em up. Watch it!
- Kyd, Kyd, Kyd, Kyd!

Hands up, Mick!

Attack.

Put your hands up, Mick.

Watch out, Mick! Hands up! Hands up!

Close it! He's closing it!

Stop him! Stop him! Stop him!

Okay. It's okay.
Kyd. Kyd. Kyd. Kyd.

Come on. Come on, Mickey!

- Up, up, up!
- Let's go, baby! Six feet away!

- Six feet away!
- On your feet.

- Breathe, baby, breathe.
- He's right in front of you.

Layla! Layla, Mick.
Layla! Layla, Mick.

Come on, Mickey!

Get up, Mick.

Mick, I'm gonna have to throw in the towel
if you don't get up. Get up!

You gotta get up, Mick!

I love you a whole lot!

You love me.

What about our prayers?

Angel of God, my guardian dear,

to whom God's love commits me here.

Watch over me throughout the night,

and keep me safe within your sight.

I need to stop this thing, Mick.

Hey, God bless you, Mick!

Come on!

- Cover up, Mick!
- There you go!

Come on!

Yes!

Take the back! Why is he not
taking the back?

He's taking him over the top!

Finish him, Mick!

Why is he not taking it?

He's hiding his hands so he can't tap out.

Yes, fuck this guy, Mick!

Fuck him! Yes!

He's out! It's over!

The winner is Mickey Kelley!

Yes!

What the hell you so happy about?

Wait, you changed your bet?

I looked in his eyes.

I haven't seen that kind of conviction
since Zaire 1974.

Get in there! Get your man!

Mick, you did it!

Marco went back to Brazil
and never fought again.

Mickey... Mickey was rushed
to the hospital.

Doctors found cerebral swelling
due to the hits he took.

They had to induce a coma.

Where's my daddy?

Getting out of that cab alone

was one of the most difficult things
I'd ever done in my life.

If this all really happened,
why did we never hear about it?

The fight happened
on September 1st, 2001.

Ten days after that,
nothing really mattered.

You know, we went down
to Carvell cemetery,

and we saw Layla's grave,
but we didn't see Mickey's.

Hey, yo, Mick!

You got company. Go ahead, man.

They fit.

Okay.

But we never start 'em.

We just finish 'em.