Judging 'The Dragon': Machida's style seems too easy for judges to miss

You can tell judging is a special kind of problem in MMA just by the cliches we use to make peace with it.

“Don’t leave it in the hands of the judges,” we say after questionable decisions such as the one that gave Phil Davis the win over Lyoto Machida at UFC 163. As if we’re concerned that fighters might bypass a chance at a knockout finish just to let the officials at cageside show off their ability to add up 10s and 9s.

What we’re really saying is, “You know these people who are here to do only one job? Yeah, we don’t trust them to do it. And if we’re right, and if they turn out to be as bad as we think, it will cost you half your paycheck and probably alter the course of your career.”

No wonder we’d rather bury that sentiment in a harmless little phrase. Once you spell it out, it’s just too damn depressing.

I wouldn’t blame Machida for feeling a little depressed this morning. I also wouldn’t blame him if he were starting to wonder just how big a role he played in his own bummer of a night at HSBC Arena in Rio de Janeiro. I’m starting to wonder about it, too, and I don’t know that there are a ton of easy answers that don’t involve Machida reshaping his entire approach to fighting.

Once again, the former UFC light heavyweight champ found himself in a close fight decided by the judges. Once again, we’re reminded that judges don’t always know what to make of Machida’s fighting style.

There have been times when that was a good thing for “The Dragon.” Remember his first fight with Mauricio Rua back in 2009? “Shogun” outstruck him in all five rounds, yet still lost 48-47 on all three judges’ scorecards. After the uproar following that apparent robbery, at least one of the judges emerged from hiding to explain that he gave the nod to Machida in part for that most elusive of criteria: octagon control.

Back then, Machida “made ‘Shogun’ come after him,” according to judge Cecil Peoples. “He determined where the fight took place, which in my opinion constitutes as effective octagon control.”

Seems like you could just as easily argue that the man who’s doing the attacking, not to mention landing twice as many strikes, is the one who’s in control. Not that such arguments are worth a whole lot after the judges have turned in their scorecards, just as they did to the dismay of the Brazilian fans in attendance at UFC 163.

“I don’t know what they’re judging,” Machida said as the boos rained down in Rio. “Just listen to the crowd and they’ll tell you what happened.”

That’s not necessarily true. MMA fights are not decided by Applause-O-Meter, though they are decided by people who seem to have varying viewpoints on what constitutes success.

MMA’s (unofficial) Questionable Decision Protocol dictates that we go first to the stats, courtesy of FightMetric. In the case of Davis-Machida, however, the numbers don’t paint such a clear picture. If you look at total strikes landed, Davis outstruck Machida in two of the three rounds, finishing with 29 landed after 98 attempted. Machida, on the other hand, landed 27 after attempting just 61.

Change the focus to that hazy category known as “significant” strikes, and it’s Machida who has the edge in all but the second round. And since apparently all 61 of his attempted strikes were deemed significant, his 27 landed trumps Davis’ 21.

Thing is, the judges don’t have these stats in front of them when they scribble down a number after each round. They’re operating on a vague impression of the previous five minutes, which is why takedowns in the final minute of a close round seem to count for so much in this sport. It might also be why efficiency – one of Machida’s greatest attributes – counts for so little.

The striking stats tell that story pretty effectively. Machida threw 61 total strikes (all of them, apparently, quite significant) to Davis’ 98. He also attempted zero takedowns, while stopping all but two of Davis’ 10 attempts. Just in terms of his work rate, Machida didn’t really do that much. But what he did do, he did pretty well.

In fact, not doing stuff, shutting down the other guy’s efforts at doing stuff, saving his own stuff for rare bursts of activity, those are all hallmarks of the Machida style. It’s just that when he faces an opponent who’s patient enough to outwork him over the long haul rather than running into his fists out of sheer frustration, that style sometimes gets him in trouble.

That’s the problem with being the master of a subtle art. Machida throws kicks and punches like they cost him money, and he excels at making his opponents do a lot of work for very little. That’s tough to do, but it’s also easy to miss. Judges don’t always notice the finer brush strokes. That’s why many fighters have figured out a formula for big, bold moves they can’t help but see.

That’s where takedowns at the end of a round come in. Even if you don’t do much with it, how can they not notice that one dude was lying on his back when the horn sounded? How can they ignore a clear instance of one person getting what he wants, especially when he gets it in so obvious a fashion?

Takedowns are good for that. If your thing is takedowns, MMA judging is likely to be a little kinder to you. If your thing is slipping jabs – something done best when the one doing it moves least – you better finish your fights before the judges have their say.

Is that the takeaway message for Machida in all this? Does he have to become hell-bent on finishing, or else resign himself to a career of judging controversies? I’m not sure. One option is to change his style, making his successes harder to overlook and his failures easier to ignore, but that seems somehow sad. He’s a craftsman, in his own way, and a part of me loves to watch him work for that very reason. Who knows what he might lose if he rebuilt himself around a judge-friendly approach or a reckless eagerness to finish?

Still, at some point you have to deal with the situation as it is. Machida’s approach to winning by incremental advances has landed him in one close fight after another, from Rua to Quinton Jackson to Dan Henderson to Davis. It’s a tough way to make a living, and an even tougher way to earn a title shot. Whether the judges are right or wrong, as far as Machida’s concerned they aren’t all that dependable. If they won’t change, he might have to.

For complete coverage of UFC 163, stay tuned to the UFC Events section of the site.