Trading Shots: Fedor Emelianenko up to his old tricks, so how did we fall for it?

Nobuyuki Sakakibara and Fedor Emelianenko

In this week’s Trading Shots, MMAjunkie columnist Ben Fowlkes and retired UFC/WEC fighter Danny Downes discuss Fedor Emelianenko’s return, and what his choice of promoter and venue tells us about his intentions.

Fowlkes: At about four o’clock this morning, my eyes snapped open in the dark. It suddenly dawned on me: Fedor did it to us again. Again, Danny!

It started with him floating rumors that he might return to MMA. Still wants to compete, he says. Doesn’t feel like he’s done, he says. Scott Coker says he’s not interested in this particular sweepstakes, but the UFC brass is reportedly in talks with the great Russian enigma. At last, could we see Fedor in the UFC? Just for old times’ sake?

Then he comes walking out at Bellator’s “Dynamite” extravaganza, wearing a sport coat and a pair of too-tight blue jeans, only to announce that he’s going back to Japan to fight in some zombie PRIDE revival on New Year’s Eve. In other words, more of the same stuff he’s been pulling for years.

How did this happen, Danny? How did Fedor trick us again, and will we ever stop falling for it?

Downes: Did Fedor trick you again, or did you do it to yourself? When you think about it, this is the most probable choice for Fedor. He goes back to Japan to beat up some “zombie.” Maybe Sakuraba even comes out of retirement to face him.

This is one of those situations where people’s expectations made the possibility of Fedor going to the UFC greater than it was. Fans wanted to see him in the UFC so badly that they failed to realize how unlikely it was. That’s why I don’t think people will ever stop falling for it. Even if there’s a small sliver of hope to see Fedor in the octagon, people will pay attention.

Without speaking MMA blasphemy, why do you care if Fedor comes to the UFC? He’s 38 years old and hasn’t fought in over three years. It’s not 2009 anymore. We aren’t going to see Fedor vs. Randy Couture. That ship has sailed. It’s like how you keep asking for that Guns N’ Roses reunion tour. It sounds much greater in theory than in practice.

Fowlkes: You’re right. Seeing Fedor in the UFC now would be like unwrapping my birthday presents this year and finding that tape deck I asked for in 1989. Too late to be truly useful or meaningful? Sure. But still enough to give me that nostalgic ping somewhere deep in my dark heart? Absolutely.

If anything, the fact that it would have been far too late in Fedor’s career for him to actually do anything in the UFC’s heavyweight division was the best reason to believe that it would really happen this time. That, and Coker’s vow that he had already done everything he wanted to do with the stoic Emelianenko. Because, hey, if Bellator didn’t want him, what else was Fedor going to do? I mean, it’s not like Nobuyuki Sakakibara is going to suddenly announce that he’s starting a new MMA promotion in Japan and he’s booked Fedor against the dreaded TBA for his big New Year’s Eve show…

As for why I care, I guess it’s because this feels like the last straw for my long-running Fedor fascination. This is the point where I am forced to admit that I’d be better off ignoring all Fedor news from this point on, because clearly his only interest is in finding the easiest payday for the least significant work. I can’t exactly blame him for that, but I can’t endorse it either. Another New Year’s Eve fight in Japan? Probably against nobody who matters? That is just so Fedor, man.

Downes: Wow, I almost have sympathy for you Ben. Let historians mark the date. September 19, 2015: the day Ben Fowlkes realized the Last Emperor had no clothes.

While Fedor has his own special charm, this is something all sports fans have to deal with. An athlete that you have a special affinity for fading away, no longer the imposing presence you once thought he or she was. Especially in fighting, it’s hard to see the giants let you down. Regardless of how you feel about Tito Ortiz, he was one of the biggest stars in MMA. Now he’s out there tapping to an inverted triangle. A few months ago we saw Ken Shamrock fight Kimbo Slice.

Maybe Fedor is the last relic of a bygone era. He represents something different from the current landscape. Whether it’s the Reebok deal or the proliferation of weekly events, some “old school” fans feel like they’ve lost the sport that they fell in love with. Progress has its costs.

Fowlkes: But see, Tito Ortiz serves as a useful counterpoint to the path Fedor has chosen for himself. Ortiz could have taken that rematch with fellow old guy Frank Shamrock. Scott Coker offered it to him, and you and I both know it would have done brisk business. Hell, I’d watch that fight. I’d also watch Ortiz fight Kimbo Slice, if I’m being honest.

But he asked for a shot at the champ, because he actually still wants to compete. Fedor doesn’t, which I guess is what makes me saddest.

I realize that’s my problem more than it’s Fedor’s. For perhaps his entire career, we the MMA public have wanted something for him that he rarely seemed to want for himself, just like we wanted something from him that he wasn’t prepared to give. Maybe that’s part of what made him so fascinating.

Fans wanted to worship him, at times beyond anything he’d actually earned from an athletic standpoint, and he responded with a blank stare. We’re suckers for that, I guess, especially when you also throw your right hand like it’s a wrecking ball.

If the era of taking Fedor seriously is now over – and unless Sakakibara scrapes up a real opponent for him somehow, which I doubt, I’m prepared to say it is – I can accept that, even if it bums me out a little. I also can’t help but wonder, is there some bright-eyed youngster out there somewhere who will one day find himself processing the same feelings about, say, Chris Weidman? Or Ronda Rousey? Or is this less about a specific fighter, and more about an era of MMA that is gone forever?

Downes: Maybe it’s a generational thing, Old Man Fowlkes. You feel like time is passing you by, and all these Rousey/Conor McGregor kids don’t remember PRIDE. They certainly don’t remember Fedor Emelianenko. They probably don’t even know him as the guy who lost three straight fights in Strikeforce.

I think Fedor represents something else for fans. You can call it “old school” or simple nostalgia, but he’s a figurehead of the past. Regardless of his age, people still thought he could be a contender. Especially considering the revivals of Frank Mir and Andrei Arlovski. It felt like the time was right.

People like to make fun of Ortiz, but at least he’s still trying to make it to the top. You could argue that he’s delusional, yet he’s still making an effort. How are we supposed to interpret Fedor’s move? You can never fault a fighter for trying to make as much money as he or she can, but this feels like something more. Maybe the great Fedor is “ducking” a real fight. We won’t know if that’s the case until his opponent is announced. As you laid out, though, chances are slim that it will be anything other than a squash match.

There’s mythos surrounding Fedor. We don’t know a lot about the man other than he knew how to win fights. From his sweater to his overhand right, he’s morphed into a Russian Paul Bunyan. His time away from competition has only heightened that mystery. I think that you and to a greater extent “old school” fans expected something more. You were looking for a hero but got an MMA fighter. Disappointment is understandable. You just have to figure out who you’re disappointed in – Fedor or yourself?

Ben Fowlkes is MMAjunkie and USA TODAY’s MMA columnist. Danny Downes, a retired UFC and WEC fighter, is an MMAjunkie contributor who also writes for UFC.com and UFC 360. Follow them on twitter at @benfowlkesMMA and @dannyboydownes.