Two Roads Less Traveled

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UFC Fight Night 151 is topped by a main event between a truly odd couple of lightweight contenders in Al Iaquinta and Donald Cerrone, and if the winner ends up fighting for a belt his next time out -- which is more likely than you may think -- it will surely go down as one of the most improbable title eliminators in the modern history of the promotion. Three to five years ago, could you picture either of these men on the cusp of a title shot? Yet here they are, and the routes they’ve taken to get to Ottawa on Saturday are as different as the two fighters themselves.

Before delving into the differences, let’s begin with something the principals of Saturday’s UFC Fight Night 151 main event have in common. First and foremost, Al Iaquinta and Donald Cerrone are both capital-C characters, memorable for their personalities as well as their in-cage performances. That’s no small thing; in an era where the Ultimate Fighting Championship has 600 increasingly faceless fighters on roster, events are running at a nearly weekly clip and fans are tuning out because “it’s just too much to keep up with,” a little personality goes a long way. I’d argue that, of the 13 UFC cards this year so far, only UFC London featured a main event where both participants -- Darren Till and Jorge Masvidal -- were similarly outsized characters. In drumming up fan interest, sound bites and visual hooks are no substitute for fighting skill -- at least in the long term -- but when you’re trying to convince the world to watch its fourth UFC in as many weekends, they can sure help.

Cerrone is “Cowboy.” Not a cowboy, but “Cowboy,” in quotes. He’s earned it. Believe me, over a decade ago this Texan stood ready to poke all kinds of holes in the persona of some fighter from Colorado who dared take that nickname, but I gave up because he owns and inhabits it so fully. He’s become synonymous with the cowboy hat -- not the Tapout-branded Stetson anymore, sadly -- with the trademark feather and the knee-length black duster. His incredibly prolific and enduring UFC career means that I’ve been subjected to one of the worst songs of the late 90s about two dozen more times than anyone should have to be, but even that is fitting. Cerrone is a cowboy as sung about by a rap-rock artist from Detroit, and the fact remains that whether you’re a fan or not, you can’t help but associate Cerrone with his trappings, all the way down to that wretched song. He’s one of the few fighters who gets referred to by his nickname more often than his given name without it feeling forced or contrived.

Iaquinta, for his part, wears his own nickname every bit as comfortably as Cerrone does. “Ragin’ Al” managed to acquire the reputation of a hothead -- and perhaps a bit of a bonehead -- on the strength of a lot of candid sound bites but only a few actions. In fact, his public persona was more or less set in stone on one fateful evening in January 2015, the night he famously trashed his room at the fighter hotel after UFC 183. A mere drunken remodeling of a hotel room might not sound like a legend-making moment until you realize two things: One, he was not taking out the frustration of a loss but actually jubilant over perhaps the best win of his career to that point, a second-round TKO of Joe Lauzon; and two, he later admitted to having had vodka in his water glass at the official post-fight presser an hour or two before the rampage. After a night like that, he could have opened a yoga studio and essential oils shop instead of a real estate business and we’d still be calling him “Ragin’ Al.”

Speaking of that real estate business, Iaquinta made himself as unlikely a contender as he is right now precisely because of his willingness to sit out and concentrate on his day job. In the last four or five years, Iaquinta has been as blunt as ever in interviews, but, somewhat incongruously for a guy with his nickname, very measured in his approach to his fighting career. He has stayed consistent in his stance that, while he enjoys fighting, he doesn’t need it, and therefore is going to wait on cards, opponents and purses that make sense for him. While that position hasn’t endeared him to all fans, it’s hard to argue the results: He’s fought only four times in the last four years running, barely enough to keep from being forgotten, yet he’s on the doorstep of title contention in one of the two best divisions in the sport.

That kind of perpetual, bench-proof relevance is normally reserved for injury-prone former champs or transcendent superstars; for as long as he lives, Cain Velasquez will probably be one win away from a title shot, and the same goes for Conor McGregor. Iaquinta has managed it while being merely a very good fighter with a big personality, and he’s done so through a combination of timing, fortune and clutch performance. His split-decision win over Masvidal was one of the worst robberies of 2015, but it’s still a “W” on the record. While he fell upwards into a weird non-title title fight against Khabib Nurmagomedov at UFC 223 and was playing with pure house money in the cage, he still went home (probably drove; it’s just Brooklyn to Long Island) as the guy who saved the main event of a blockbuster card, and in so doing managed to take less of a mauling from “The Eagle” than most. And in his next fight, with all that promotional goodwill in his pocket, he handled the favored Kevin Lee across five rounds, stamping his passport to this Saturday’s matchup.

In the same four-year stretch during which Iaquinta has four fights, Cerrone has 13. At 36, he still hews admirably to his “anyone, anytime, anywhere” approach to fighting; the only nods to advancing age seem to be an increased willingness to fight at 170 pounds and the fact he has an adorable baby who comes into the cage with noise-cancelling headphones on when he wins. Beyond that, Cerrone maintains the same ironman attitude that powered his way to the most wins, most finishes, most post-fight bonuses and second-most total appearances in UFC history. It has led to him being one of the more universally beloved figures in the sport -- his must be the most forgiven and forgotten drug test failure in MMA history.

Between the ever-present hat, duster and Kid Rock track, and Cerrone’s own ever-presence in the Octagon, it might be tempting to assume that he is the same fighter he was five or 10 years ago. That would be a mistake, as Cowboy’s game has evolved subtly but significantly since his World Extreme Cagefighting days. In 2007, Cerrone was a rangy muay Thai kickboxer and an underrated grappler with a nasty guard, but missing a lot of the mortar between those bricks. Even in 2011 or 2012, he could be stymied by aggressive opponents who moved forward on him. Today, most of those weaknesses have been addressed; the days of Cerrone being outwrestled for long stretches by lesser fighters are long gone, and his intercepting knee has skewered several opponents who tried to jump or charge inside his kicking range in the last few years. Of course, none of this is to say that Cerrone is a perfect fighter. Part of the charm of his incredible career is that he is capable of winning -- and occasionally losing -- spectacularly at almost any time. It is much of what has made his fights must-see affairs for over a decade.

Going into this Saturday, I keep getting the nagging feeling that Cerrone’s body of work, all those years and all those wars, will catch up to him soon, that he may be one of those fighters who seems to get old overnight, like his onetime victim Matt Brown. I have no idea whether that will be the case, much less whether it will be this weekend when he faces off with “Ragin’ Al.” For that matter, I don’t know whether this is where the luck runs out on Iaquinta’s improbable run, which has been fueled by equal parts serendipity, skill and grit. What I do know is that this matchup is a gift, a fantastic contrast of styles in terms of in-cage skill sets as much as the styles in which these two very different fighters have made themselves into contenders and stars. I can’t wait.