Cage Rage

"The first thing you feel is guilt," Kang told the Canadian Press. "You always think you could have done something, and you start to blame yourself." To keep his sanity, he literally trained through the tears. "There was a few times where I was on the verge of tears right in the middle of sparring because things would just pop in your head," Kang said. "It's the hardest thing I've gone through, I can honestly tell you that."

But this past November he fought in another title tournament, Pride Bushido 13. After advancing through the semifinal round, where he tore his bicep, he was defeated in the final in a split decision. It was his first loss in almost four years. Now, three months later, he's back in training and ready to get back into the ring.

In the meantime the hunky fighter is more than happy to help out his teammate, and work the corner for Thomas.

Well into the second round of their scheduled fifteen-minute bout on January 25, both Thomas and Guida had landed some devastating blows. Both were tired. Both were determined not to get caught off guard. Both were showing remarkable resilience and skill.

Streams of blood were gushing down Guida's badly cut face. But he knocked down Thomas, and for the fourth time Thomas was on his back in the middle of the mat.

Over screams and cheers pouring from the enthralled crowd, American Top Team's Dan Lambert and Denis Kang yelled pointers from their makeshift perches at the edge of the Octagon. "Get the fuck up, Din," a manic Kang boomed. "Get back on your feet."

And suddenly something seemed to click. With the agility of a panther, Thomas drew up his knees and rammed his feet into his rival's slippery torso. Guida's bloodied body catapulted high into the air and seemed to hang there, as if suspended by invisible wires, before flying across the cage at breakneck speed and collapsing in a heap on the opposite side. In one swift leap Thomas was on his feet and barreling after him with flying fists.

The crowd roared. The home favorite was finally where he wanted to be.

Peeling after his stunned rival, Thomas fired off a succession of solid shots that forced Guida against the Octagon's railing. He relentlessly hammered home his message. There was no rhythmical pitter-patter of punches. It wasn't pretty. He wanted any square inch of skin he could find. Top lip snarled, face contorted, Thomas was on a mission. He wanted glory. But when the buzzer signified the end of round two, it still wasn't over.

And the crowd loved every second of it. This is what they had paid to see. This was what the sport was all about. "These guys are doing a great job," gushed former professional wrestling star Hulk Hogan, who sat in the front row. "I'm excited they're finally getting the respect they deserve. I just hope they start making some money."

Perched on a red stool one side of the cage, with Lambert talking into his right ear and Kang holding an ice pack over his head, Thomas looked composed. "You can stop this fucker's takedowns," Lambert cooed. Nodding his head, Thomas rose to his feet.

Shortly after 6:00 p.m., Big John McCarthy ushered the two men center stage for the third and final round. Guida's facial features were barely distinguishable under the red mask that now seemed to engulf his entire face. The two tapped gloves, and they were off again: kicks to the head, whacks to the thigh, elbows to the body, punches to the face. Body shots. Takedowns. Sprawls. The final seconds ticked off and the buzzer sounded to mark the end of their fifteen-minute ordeal.

Neither man seemed to have the strength to raise his arms. But they waded into the center of the cage and, shoulder-to-shoulder, offered one another congratulatory words and grins. Awash in adrenaline, they embraced, patting each other heartily on the back.

Their fate now lay with the three judges. The referee made his way to the Octagon's center and took each of them by the wrist.

He waited. Silence washed over the arena.

"In a unanimous decision," the announcer boomed, "all three judges scored the bout 29 to 28, to the winner Din öDinyero' Thomas."

Head back, arms high in the air, a triumphant Thomas let out a victorious whoop. Grabbing the mike from standup comedian and UFC commentator Joe Rogan, Thomas beamed out at the audience, "What's up Fort Lauderdale? I'm back!"

Whistling loudly to show her appreciation from high up in the stands, 25-year-old New Yorker Nicole Fantanelle laughed, "This stuff is hardcore, I love it."