The Savage Truth - Behind the Scenes of UFC 47
Intro
Greg Savage Apr 13, 2004
Wow, it has been a while since I have written one of these things.
School has been a rough go as of late but I snuck out of town for a
weekend in Vegas for UFC 47. How could I miss the big showdown
between Chuck Liddell and Tito Ortiz?
Knowing I wouldn’t have to write the blow-by-blow coverage for UFC 47, I thought I would switch things up and give you guys and girls a little different perspective than the tired old garbage that is spewed after every big show.
I figured I would give everyone a peek behind the curtain and fill
you all in on what it’s really like behind the scenes for the
Sherdog crew before, during and after a UFC event. I am not sure
all the players involved would want their secrets known, so I have
changed some names to protect the not so innocent.
Where should we begin? Well, on Wednesday afternoon, as I was rolling north on the 405 on my way to the airport to catch a plane to Vegas, I get this phone call from the man himself, my boy Sherdog. He informs me we are sharing our room with our new video guy who happens to be a teenage alcoholic who we will call Jack Hartneck. This kid is out of control, but he makes me laugh so I said no sweat.
Next bomb he lays on me is we are also bunking with Lori Hunter, the most famous female reporter in the MMA world. You can find her work at fcstriker.com. Now this is starting to worry me because the last time I stayed with her my toes were killing for weeks from all the names she kept dropping on them not to mention this thing she does called the Dutch oven. Good thing I packed my steel tip boots.
The other member of our little quartet was none other than Sherdog himself. Now I am not saying it is impossible to sleep with him in the room, but I think a locomotive with its horn blowing would be a more soothing melody than Sherpup’s snoring, grunting or my personal favorite, yelling at his kids in his sleep. And there is no way to stop it once he nods off into one of his coma-esqe slumbers.
Well at least I didn’t have to fly with him—that’s a whole different story and I don’t have the space for the 5,000 words needed to tell it. Let’s just say it is an experience all unto itself.
Knowing I wouldn’t have to write the blow-by-blow coverage for UFC 47, I thought I would switch things up and give you guys and girls a little different perspective than the tired old garbage that is spewed after every big show.
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Where should we begin? Well, on Wednesday afternoon, as I was rolling north on the 405 on my way to the airport to catch a plane to Vegas, I get this phone call from the man himself, my boy Sherdog. He informs me we are sharing our room with our new video guy who happens to be a teenage alcoholic who we will call Jack Hartneck. This kid is out of control, but he makes me laugh so I said no sweat.
Next bomb he lays on me is we are also bunking with Lori Hunter, the most famous female reporter in the MMA world. You can find her work at fcstriker.com. Now this is starting to worry me because the last time I stayed with her my toes were killing for weeks from all the names she kept dropping on them not to mention this thing she does called the Dutch oven. Good thing I packed my steel tip boots.
The other member of our little quartet was none other than Sherdog himself. Now I am not saying it is impossible to sleep with him in the room, but I think a locomotive with its horn blowing would be a more soothing melody than Sherpup’s snoring, grunting or my personal favorite, yelling at his kids in his sleep. And there is no way to stop it once he nods off into one of his coma-esqe slumbers.
Well at least I didn’t have to fly with him—that’s a whole different story and I don’t have the space for the 5,000 words needed to tell it. Let’s just say it is an experience all unto itself.
