Ames Progressive

From Wes Anderson’s Bottle Rocket:

Anthony: You told, you told your friend Bernice I’m some kind of jet pilot?
Grace: What was I supposed to say, they stuck you in an insane asylum?
Anthony: It wasn’t an insane asylum, Grace. I explained to you back then that it was for exhaustion.
Grace: Exhaustion?
Anthony: Yes, exhaustion.
Grace: You haven’t worked a day in your life. How could you be exhausted?

Most people I know, including myself, necessitate isolation for recuperation and salvation from a world that can spin away and leave all its occupants dazed. The haunting specter of mental exasperation creeps into the background of real-life nightmares but unlike physical drain we tend to deny our own need for rest, for personal peace.

A short time before my ill-handled fall from grace, Dave Chappelle baffled the general public by opting out of his contract with Comedy Central and escaping the ruthless media storm that followed by reconvening in Africa. I cut through the excess sensationalism surrounding the story and found an article in Rolling Stone dripping with honesty that expounded on the situation.

Chappelle floated to the top of the comedic world with humor delivered in a laid-back, stoner style that pinpoints 21st century living for us observers of the absurd. Yet Chappelle’s meteoric rise from cult stand-up comedian to bigger than Eddie Murphy during his height in the ‘80s, and disregarding anything after Coming To America, due to The Chappelle Show’s universal popularity thrust the inconspicuous star into a world chronicled in the sleaziest of publications. The aforementioned article cast Chappelle as an intelligent and witty jokester avoiding interaction with egotistical A-listers as the comedian cracks at an after-party following the Grammys at Prince’s house. An ensuing sensation akin to suffocation precluded a time for self-introspection at home so Chappelle ventured into an “exotic” land. A move dubbed erratic by others but in the eyes of this commentator, quite logical in retrospect.

The signs shouted out like sirens before an air raid but I never took the time to examine the worlds separating loneliness from crowded discomfort. The documentary featuring Radiohead after their breakout album OK Computer, appropriately called Meeting People Is Easy, portends lead singer Thom Yorke’s struggles with fame leading to a pair of sublime albums that capture the essence of uneasiness with such cryptic beauty that I fear residing in a world without either Amnesiac or Kid A.

Yorke answered the question of whether it is better to burn out than fade away but unfortunately some that slip into an abyss fail to regain a gifted perspective. Kurt Cobain’s timeless lyrics suggested an entry into The Forever 27 Club but society tends to castigate suicide victims of any class as flawed individuals because judgment equates into personal satisfaction.

Maybe comparing my journey to pop culture icons fails to breed morals but there is enough ominous literature for me to recite in times of crippling confusion to sustain my existence for a thousand years. Whether looking to Marlon Brando as Colonel Kurtz in Apocalypse Now or reading Joseph Conrad’s frightening last words in The Heart of Darkness “The Horror. The Horror” the character in both capacities leaves the residue of insanity gushing through my soul.

My past transgressions and embattling periods serve as a constant reminder to look out at existence and meditate on shared experiences. To know sometimes good from bad or right from wrong mean little. Just knowing that you know nothing but you are appreciating something can be enough to invigorate or enliven the most troubled of souls.

Yet as I preach or share with absolute uncertainty, a man presently stumbles in the eye of us all and a shiver of unsurprised compassion and hope courses through my being as I hack away into a world presumptively living through his pain.

Quinton “Rampage” Jackson earned a UFC contract last year after Japan’s mixed martial arts organization, PRIDE, collapsed. After winning his first bout, Rampage knocked out the face of the UFC and the sport in the U.S., Chuck Liddel in mere seconds to take over the Light Heavyweight Title. Four months later, Rampage unified the belts with a win over former PRIDE champ, Dan Henderson.

Resembling one of my favorite wrestling stars growing up, The Junkyard Dog, Rampage won me over with his raw presentation as he enters the cage with a chain around his neck, a mouthpiece with the word “Bam” written across and a menacing howl that emphasizes his rugged character. The persona matches the fight in him as he utilizes fierce punches and earth-rattling slams to subdue his opponents.

Rampage earned a respite after the five-round victory over Henderson. In December, UFC President Dana White announced Rampage would be a coach on the career spring-boarding reality show, The Ultimate Fighter. Rampage had already established himself as a star in the sport but the show further accredited him as an endearing person.

The show’s seventh season arrived with extra anticipation due to Rampage’s opposing coach, Forrest Griffin, as the winner of the first six-figure contract returned to show that turned him into a professional fighter. Griffin lived up to his irreverent demeanor with his implacable smile. Yet for me, Rampage stole the storylines with candid comments and class-clown antics. His lighthearted quips might belie his in-the-cage mystique but unlike most people appearing on Reality Television, Jackson presented himself as modest and genuine.
What places mixed martial arts in a different bracket from most sports involves the background of the fighters. In basketball we hear of fallen stars that cannot handle the pressure as the scouts and attention serve as kryptonite for any young talent with a game seemingly destined for the largest of stages. An ESPN Magazine article from earlier this month features James Felton who played along side with Ron Artest during his freshman year at St. John’s before succumbing to alcohol and eventually dying before the age of 40. The capper on the story stated that Felton never even loved basketball. But with scouts monitoring the top Junior High ballers in the country, there is almost a forced net that pushes athletic boys into a market to enrich the pockets of unmitigated parasites.

Griffin and Rampage stand apart from a LeBron and Moss who from a young age straddle the line that separates a poor public relations move to an unforgivable mistake. Moss has had his off-the-field issues but his biggest fau paux centered around smoking marijuana before the draft, encouraging several teams to pass on a prodigy before the Vikes swooped up the receiver. Recently, the top pick in this year’s draft, Derek Rose was charged with speeding, incidentally without being under the influence, inciting a media uproar.

Guys like Rampage enter the fray with stained pasts, and even though executives like White want to play down the indiscretions, the relatable-factor and somewhat blue-collar pedigree builds a fan base. So Rampage ascended to stardom without knowing the drawbacks and unwanted temptations that come along. The aesthetically awkward word - “hangers-on” has penetrated everyday vernacular associated with mixed martial arts.

Rampage’s mold seems perfect for a Shaq-like lifestyle but an anecdote told by his trainer Juanito Ibarra tells all you need to know about where Jackson has come from and been over the year. Ibarra recalls a star-studded affair in which Heisman winner Reggie Bush approached the fighter in awe. Rampage obliged by shaking hands but then moments later asked Ibarra about the identity of the Saints running back.

In the week leading up to Rampage’s bout with Griffin, I suspected that his softening image on display in the reality show would diminish his aura in the cage. Rampage revitalized his character before the initial bell but what I saw afterward was a tentative fighter that contrasted everything on evident in his previous two fights. With his belt in jeopardy, Rampage barely threw a punch in the final round. The cameras then caught a bewildered Rampage asking Ibarra in an child-like tone whether he thought he had won the fight on the cards. The judges scored the bout unanimously in Griffin’s favor and Rampage instantly hugged the new champ as though he were secretly rooting for him.

Since Rampage was caught in an O.J. like pursuit in which he hit a car with a pregnant women inside. After being released, Rampage’s friends called up the police a couple of days later upon noticing unusual behavior. He checked into a hospital for mental evaluations relating to exhaustion. White has said he does not expect Rampage back in the cage for awhile and he will do his best to ensure the health of a friend. Brandon Vera expressed hopes for Rampage’s recovery in his post-fight interview Saturday night on Spike.

For those still reading this epic, I thank you and will allow you to connect the pieces to a jig-sawed puzzle providing a somewhat analogous tale into my somewhat unmentioned rough times. It might appear vague and far-reaching but over the past 20 years I have maintained my love for sports, yet often find no inlet to observe the true nature of professional athletes. Mixed martial arts have reignited something dormant in me as it reminds me of how emotionally rewarding and challenging sports can be when it appears you are on a well-light stage for all the world to see.

A light flickered on in my mind when I read of Rampage and even though there is a distinct possibility I will never get to meet the guy, he seems to represent something wonderful in a confusing world that fortunately comes littered with captivating stories packaged under the label of sports.