9 E-mails for ‘Ninth Battle’ (Saved from Outer Space)

What the hell happens after I beat Dan Hornbuckle? Almost all of the top welterweights in the world are already signed somewhere else. Thank God I came up with that DJ Gozma gimmick, or people would have completely forgotten about me already.
-- Akihiro G., Higashikurume

I sympathize fully. You’re a victim of cruel circumstance, too small for middleweight and now trapped in a division virtually owned in full by the company that just cut you. That sucks.

Really, that’s only the tip of the iceberg. You got cut from the UFC after losing to two elite fighters, one of whom you arguably beat. You’re going on 35 years old, you’ve been fighting for more than 15 years, and one of your hands breaks every other fight now. Yet, technically and competitively, you’re peaking. You’re a better fighter now than two years ago. On top of that, you’ve got a fighting style that can be as alienating as it can be exciting if your opponent doesn’t want to play along.

Really, you have two options. Firstly, hope that World Victory Road can manufacture a bastard welterweight division for you. It is, after all, a globally deep division, and as Dream just showed, any small division is only a high-flying Lithuanian away from being semi-interesting. Secondly -- my personal preference -- tag along with your pal Misaki next time he heads to Strikeforce. They like Japanese talent, and they’re trying to develop their welterweight division despite Zuffa owning nearly all the elites. They just tried to put Phil Baroni in against Nick Diaz. Your contributions there would be richly welcomed.

Hey, man. I’m just happy to be here.
-- Masanori, Musashimurayama

You should be. The only three people on the planet that thought you beat Chan Sung Jung were, coincidentally enough, the three people with scorecards in front of them.

Hey, does that mean I’m actually being set up to lose to this Jung guy?
-- Matt J., Indiana

Yes.

I’ve emerged as a top 10 featherweight with highlight reel finishes in my last two fights. I’m a betting favorite to beat Omigawa, and I’m a bad style matchup for Hioki in the final. Where’s all my hype at?
-- Marlon, Rio de Janeiro

Your hype has been sucked into another black hole: your teammate Jose Aldo. This has really been a breakout year for the featherweight division, but right now, the only thing the masses are concerned about in the division is the Aldo-Mike Thomas Brown showdown in November.

That’s pretty unfair however you slice it, but it’s even worse because part of Aldo’s success is the fact that he’s a student of Andre Pederneiras, just like you. Nova Uniao has been turning into one of MMA’s strongest teams over the last few years under his watch. Even NU’s affiliates -- like Nova Uniao Kimura in the northeast -- are turning out studs, like new flyweight king Jussier “Formiga” da Silva and another hot featherweight prospect, Renan Barao.

You’ve got a lot going for you. You’ve got world-class grappling skills, and though your striking technique needs work, you have major natural punching power, as you showed by starching Nick Denis in 19 seconds. Even though you’re 32, you’re a young 32, just coming into your own as a prospect and without a lot of wear-and-tear on your body. Plus, you’re one of the sport’s quintessential good guys. You work as a lifeguard to offset the cost of the free academy you run in Rio, so street kids can have somewhere to train and escape the world of poverty and crime of which you were once a part.

But you’re also a victim of circumstance. People are already concerned about a featherweight logjam if Aldo beats Brown, because he won’t fight imminent number-one contender Wagnney Fabiano, also a Nova Uniao guy. I’m not sure people want the top three guys in the division all being teammates with no prospects of ever fighting one another, no matter what a great humanitarian you are.

There are 13 fights on this card, which means I’m probably going to referee anywhere between three and five fights. Also, given my prestige in the refereeing ranks, it’s almost a sure thing I’ll do either the featherweight grand prix final or the Kitaoka-Hirota fight. Are you nervous yet?
-- Yoshinori, Tokyo.

On a scale of one to 10 for nervous anxiety, I’m a rational but wary six. On a similar scale for ongoing dumbfounded anger and frustration, I’m somewhere approaching 570.

The position you occupy in Japanese MMA is perhaps the most confounding thing in the entire sport. You referee for virtually every notable promotion in Japan apart from Dream, despite the fact you sabotage nearly every fight you officiate. In fact, in a nation noted for its seniority systems, you get main event assignments with regularity despite the fact that on the Pancrase refereeing crew alone, there are four other referees (Ryogaku Wada, Hiromi Okamoto, Soichi Hiroto and Kenji Kosuge) with greater seniority than yourself.

I’m not sure what dirt you have or who you have it on, but clearly blackmail is at work. That’s the only thing that could explain how the third man in the ring for the Kazushi Sakuraba-Yoshihiro Akiyama scandal could actually move up in the world after being part of a complete debacle. And the only thing saving you from the vitriol of western MMA fans is the fact that outside of Yuji Shimada every other Japanese referee just gets lumped together into a single nameless, faceless being. Rest assured, they all subconsciously know you’re awful, as well. Just google “bibiano fernandes kid yamamoto ref,” and you’ll see.

So be on your best behavior Sunday, lest I expose you. MMA fans are keen to completely crucify fairly solid referees like Yves Lavigne and Steve Mazzagatti for sporadic blown calls. They can’t even begin to imagine what your resume looks like.