UFC

My husband was invited to go and watch a UFC game today.  For those of you not well versed in the act of absolute brutality  -- it’s a sport called “ultimate fighting”. It’s a hot topic of debate of which I’m decidedly on the fence.   Although it IS brutal, I know that it also requires a great deal of skill.  Its nothing I would ever watch but suspect that if I was riddled with testosterone I’d perhaps enjoy either watching it or drinking beer while watching other testosterone-charged-like-species watched it.

So today Rob got invited at the last minute to watch an ultimate fighting match with a few of our neighbors.  We already had plans, so he had to decline, but as we drove away, I asked him if he regretted not being able to go and whether or not he thought he would have enjoyed watching “the fight” with “the guys”.

Whereas I sometimes like to sit on the fence, Rob USUALLY has an opinion.  And a strong one at that.

“NO.”  he said without hesitation, “I mean I’d like to see the guys but I have NO DESIRE to watch Ultimate Fighting.”

“I hear it takes real skill”

“Its RIDICULOUSLY brutal.  There are NO RULES.  And NO protection except for a little bit of tape on your hands.  Its like watching other people get PULVERIZED to DEATH.”

“Wow.  That sounds pretty bad.”

“It is.  You can do ANYTHING….Except kick the other guy in the gonads."

“Why? Is that not allowed? I thought there were no rules…”

“Oh, no its not a rule – its just not cool.”

So I left the conversation at that – no more enlightened on the sport of ultimate fighting, but feeling somewhat more confident with my gender.   Some things I will never understand…