Mission Impossible: What If James Toney Beats Randy Couture?

James Toney, mouth full of Novocaine, made the media rounds at UFC 116 this past weekend displaying a confidence completely disproportionate to his MMA ability. (See: toting a Randy Couture doll in a dress, the complete apathy for MMA, etc.) Toney has the kind of self-delusion practiced by the kung fu and savate bodies of the early days, only worse: at least those guys had no idea what they were really getting themselves into. He has 17 years of videotape to watch.

Toney’s ambitions are no secret. His paydays have dried up in boxing and the only other venue aside from bouncing or loan-sharking where his skills are even semi-applicable is another combat sport. He tweaked Dana White into thinking he could grab ratings in Strikeforce and strong-armed him into what will probably be a six-figure payday for a co-main against Randy Couture.

In his favor? The fight starts on the feet. Not in his favor? Everything else.

Toney against virtually anyone with takedown or clinching ability in MMA would be assisted suicide. There’s potential for a slip, but nine times out of 10, he gets tapped or pounded out. Against a solid kickboxer, a brain wired to avoid two threats -- the left and the right -- is eventually going to freeze when that number is multiplied by four. Want more? He’s far past his prime and his power isn’t even particularly troubling: he’s got one KO win in the last seven years. A young and rabid Mike Tyson against an undersized grappler would be a fight. This is just a lesson.

That’s one line. The other line is that Couture just turned 47 years old. He’s in his fifth decade on the planet and his third in fighting. Chuck Liddell cracked his chin twice. Brandon Vera, Antonio Nogueira, and Brock Lesnar all knocked him down. When your will exceeds what your flesh can tolerate, your body will eventually start dropping hints.

Toney only has a marginal chance, but it’s a chance. And if Couture stands still for a second too long -- if that brain that just wants to hang out on a porch somewhere sabotages him -- it’s really not such a good thing for the UFC.

Toney, for one, has a mouth that doesn’t need a megaphone. Humility isn’t a character trait. And since it’s obvious he considers himself a boxer trespassing (he will continue boxing even through a UFC deal), he’s going to float the “boxing vs. MMA” angle until he gets a better money deal from either sport. Toney may sound punched out, but he is far from stupid.

A win would also delight Bob Arum and boxing’s other pallbearers, who can count only on biannual fights that briefly ignite interest in that sport before they find new ways to extinguish it. Boxing as an institution relies on the idea that it’s a cleaner, more mature activity. Having a past-prime Toney clock Couture -- one of the names most commonly circulated in mass media -- would be a gift. And unlike the Tim Sylvia/Ray Mercer debacle, it’ll be taking place on a show people are actually watching.

The UFC’s appeal in part is that it represents advancement in combat sports. You would not expect a Selectric to outperform a Mac. If it does, the cache that goes along with following the hot product dwindles. Brock Lesnar, by virtue of being the UFC’s heavyweight champion, has been labeled the “baddest man on the planet.” If Toney wins, will some people now expect that title is invalid until he fights one of the Klitschkos?

Couture’s age means the UFC is playing a dangerous game of Russian roulette with their own reputation. His name sells, but there’s more security in having a younger, faster takedown artist deal with Toney. If the number one rule of fighting is not to take unnecessary chances, they’ve scheduled a pretty reckless round.