Nostalgia vs. Reality: Pedro Rizzo

A few weeks ago, I wrote that as a kid in the 90s, my favorite fighter was Brazilian great Pedro Rizzo. It's easy to see why. Like many boys during that decade, I watched an endless diet of martial arts movies with a slew of boxing on the side. Moreover, I was already taking karate and taekwondo classes and began amateur boxing when I entered my early teens. Unsurprisingly, I loved striking and had little respect, and even contempt for grappling—which I now bitterly regret, as I wish I had tried wrestling in high school. Thus, there were two main choices for my favorite fighter: Vitor Belfort and Rizzo. I loved Belfort too, but preferred Rizzo. He not only knocked out opponents with his hands, but employed devastating leg kicks that earned him many victories, sometimes garnering instant stoppages from the bone-crunching blows. It's tempting to say that he was the very first mixed martial artist to use leg kicks as a major weapon, but it's not true. Marco Ruas, who was Rizzo's father figure, mentor and coach, was the first when he stopped the enormous 6-foot-8, 350-pound “Polar Bear” Paul Varelans with them to win the UFC 7 tournament in 1995. Incidentally, that was the first MMA event I ever watched.

But how do my rosy childhood memories of “The Rock” stack up with a rational analysis of the present? What do I see when I watch Rizzo's fights now, 20-plus years later? This is the first of what will hopefully be a series in which I look back at early greats and pioneers through a modern, dispassionate lens. Hopefully, we can still retain the magic and wonder of these legendary figures while also understanding what they represented in the sport's history and development. In this case, doing so helped me answer a central question that I could never figure out in my younger years: namely, why did Rizzo fall off so quickly as an elite talent? He fought for the UFC heavyweight championship against Kevin Randleman in 2000, when he was 26 and then twice against Randy Couture in 2001. Yet by early 2006, when he was still only 31, Rizzo was easily knocked out by Sergei Kharitonov and journeyman Roman Zentsov. At that point, he was utterly washed-up and finished as a serious contender. What happened? With a deep analysis of his career, I can now give a confident answer to that question.

Let's begin with what Rizzo was and wasn't good at. He was one of the very best MMA strikers of his time, but by modern standards, his stand-up was limited and had plenty of flaws. He threw very good punches, but they consisted of a straight right and straight left. The straight right, or cross, possessed genuine knockout power. Despite Rizzo's orthodox stance, I don't call his straight left a jab, since it was neither quick nor meant as a setup, but a slower, powerful blow he threw with similar technique to his right cross. This is quite an impressive quality to this very day; it's rare for a fighter to have dangerous straight punches from both hands, as opposed to only the dominant one. Unfortunately, Rizzo was very lacking with regards to hooks and uppercuts, relying on just the two straights. This is partly why he struggled when striking against grapplers like Mark Coleman and Kevin Randleman who were often inside the pocket and a prime target for those shorter punches.

Now, let's get to his famous leg kicks. They were absolutely amazing for his time and are still excellent by modern standards. They were powerful, quick, sudden and accurate. However, Rizzo also threw them very naked. They were often predictable, his head was on the center line, and he didn't set them up with punches. A fighter could throw a counter and knock Rizzo out. In fact, that's exactly what happened against Zentsov.

Speaking of defense, this is an area where Rizzo really struggled when observing him through a modern lens. He had some lateral movement, which was very nice at the time, but was otherwise easy to hit. He had slow, poor defensive reactions, including limited head movement, and was especially vulnerable to straight punches.

Rizzo was also a counterpuncher. He waited for an opening to throw his straight punches or leg kicks but wouldn't force the issue. This was both a strength and a weakness. On the one hand, it meant he didn't overextend against grapplers and get taken down. On the other hand, it meant that Rizzo's foes were often surprisingly safe so long as they took matters carefully. Considering that Rizzo lacked a jab and many other ways to initiate his offense, him being a counterpuncher makes sense.

What about his grappling? It was solid though basic by modern standards. Offensively, Rizzo had enough wrestling and Brazilian jiu-jitsu to get trip takedowns in the clinch and finish off the very low-level opponents he fought in mid-90s vale tudo, before joining the UFC. He had very good takedown defense, enough to stifle most attempts by Coleman or Randleman, including a quick, technical sprawl. However, he was vulnerable in the clinch. Off his back, Rizzo, like almost every fighter then, was very limited, and could be ground-and-pounded badly.

So now that we know his strengths and weaknesses, let's talk about a few key fights. Rizzo had some spectacular victories. He destroyed an old Dan Severn in 93 seconds with a couple of leg kicks at UFC 27. I also love Rizzo's back-and-forth war with a young Andrei Arlovski in 2002 at UFC 36, with the Brazilian prevailing in a bloody third-round knockout. Arlovski back then had almost no sense of distance, constantly putting himself within range of Rizzo's vicious straight punches. Both men landed huge shots, but Arlovski’s chin was weak even then, with “The Rock” coming out on top in the war of attrition. My absolute favorite knockout of Rizzo's, however, is his first fight against Josh Barnett in early 2001. This was Rizzo at his sharpest and fastest, taking advantage of every opportunity to tag Barnett while avoiding his developing striking. The end came from a fantastic right cross that caused Barnett to collapse backwards, his head hitting the cage like a soccer goal deep inside the net.

In terms of weaker outings, Rizzo's split decision victory against Coleman was an absolute robbery and thanks to a scorecard by pro wrestling dirt sheet writer Dave Meltzer for Rizzo, MMA history as we know it was altered. Granted, Rizzo improved from that performance. However, the same problems cropped up when he fought Coleman's protege Randleman for the heavyweight championship in 2000. Rizzo was again outstruck by a limited wrestler. Yes, Rizzo claimed to have sustained a massive headbutt midway through the fight to the point that he couldn't remember anything that happened, ruining his plan to wait until the fourth round to begin attacking. I don't entirely buy Rizzo's explanation; why would he wait until the fourth round when he had never done so before or since? And Rizzo's activity before the headbutt looked very similar to his activity afterwards, which is to say minimal.

However, the fights that tell us the most about Rizzo and will answer our question are his two meetings with Couture for the UFC heavyweight championship in 2001.

Their first fight at UFC 31 is an all-time classic, ending in a decision that is still hotly debated to this day, with many believing Rizzo won. Couture started very well, taking Rizzo down and pounding him mercilessly, but began to tire in the second round when he didn't get the finish. Rizzo came back with a vengeance, stopping many of Couture's takedowns. Couture went for leg kicks of his own, but frankly, they were very poor, simply exposing him to Rizzo's straight punch counters. I could see the verdict going to either man, but Couture retained his crown.

Their rematch at UFC 34 was a completely different story. Couture utterly dominated Rizzo the whole way through with ground-and-pound, the Brazilian barely surviving until he was saved in Round 3 by the referee. I don't know if Rizzo landed a single solid blow. What changed so much? On Couture's side, the differences were considerable.

1. Instead of going for takedowns from the shot, which Rizzo sprawled well against in their first fight, Couture used his Greco-Roman skills to get takedowns from the clinch. His takedowns were more consistently successful, and he was at less risk from Rizzo's follow-up shots in case they weren't.
2. Couture's striking defense got noticeably better.
3. Couture's leg kicks improved, being harder, faster, and making it harder to counter him.
4. Couture's energy management was a lot better. Instead of gassing himself out looking for an early finish with ground-and-pound, he was a lot more measured in his approach. He didn't get an early finish, but by Round 3, he did.
Meanwhile, what did Rizzo change? Absolutely nothing.

That's right. Rizzo fought exactly the same way in the rematch that he did in their first meeting. Therein lies Rizzo’s main problem and why he flamed out at a relatively young age. He didn't evolve or improve at all after early 2001. Most of his heavyweight rivals became better, but Rizzo stayed the same. One can blame the stagnation of his very antiquated luta livre coach Ruas, a huge pioneer of mixed martial arts beginning in the 80s who was hopelessly out of his depth by the late 90s, never mind the 2000s. However, ultimate responsibility must lie with Rizzo. I absolutely love the guy and wished he had evolved and become the champion he could have been in either the UFC or Pride Fighting Championships, but he didn't and it never happened.

And it wasn't just the great Couture. When Rizzo fought Barnett again in 2008, a rematch of arguably his best win, it was a different, downright sad affair. Barnett was a far better striker while Rizzo was exactly the same. Barnett simply stayed out of Rizzo's range, didn't give him any big opportunities to strike, and took advantage of the Brazilian's defensive holes to attain an easy second-round knockout.

Does this change what I think of Rizzo? Yes and no. I still adore him as a pioneer and legend of the sport, and enjoy watching his old fights, even if I can spot the flaws. At the same time, I also understand his limitations and why he wasn't more successful. He is a testament to how quickly MMA evolved and improved in those years, and that anyone who didn't keep up, even one as talented as Rizzo, was left in the dust.