Author Topic: DB and DBMA in the media  (Read 105648 times)



Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile
First episode of Why We Fight
« Reply #104 on: October 25, 2017, 11:14:15 AM »

https://www.go90.com/shows/1F1A4hP13BG

Our episode will be released in mid-November.

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile
Jocko and friend discuss the Dog Brothers!!!
« Reply #105 on: November 29, 2017, 10:48:30 PM »
I am having a major fan boy moment!

At 1:01:30 et seq.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7GNRn3GtJ3g&app=desktop

PS:  The Stinky Stick technique was me!

DougMacG

  • Power User
  • ***
  • Posts: 13726
    • View Profile
Re: Jocko and friend discuss the Dog Brothers!!!
« Reply #106 on: November 30, 2017, 09:46:37 AM »
I am having a major fan boy moment!

At 1:01:30 et seq.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7GNRn3GtJ3g&app=desktop

PS:  The Stinky Stick technique was me!

I will not be fighting Crafty at the next Gathering!

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile
Running towards the guns
« Reply #107 on: March 05, 2018, 05:37:53 AM »


Co-author Matt Larsen founded the Army's Modern Army Combatives Program which, under his leadership, included Real Contact Stick Fighting.  I was a subject matter expert forth is portion of the program and made a Level III instructor in MACP.




https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/posteverything/wp/2018/03/05/a-gun-wont-give-you-the-guts-to-run-toward-danger/?utm_term=.35c6c8d3dab0



Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile
Podcast 8/10/18
« Reply #108 on: August 09, 2018, 06:26:43 PM »

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile

DougMacG

  • Power User
  • ***
  • Posts: 13726
    • View Profile


DougMacG

  • Power User
  • ***
  • Posts: 13726
    • View Profile
Re: Crafty Dog podcast
« Reply #112 on: November 03, 2019, 11:40:05 AM »
https://anchor.fm/nicholaspaularnold/episodes/Episode-13-Interview-wPunong-Guro-Marc-Crafty-Dog-Denny-of-Dog-Brothers-Martial-Arts-e8jekh

Very well done, great stuff!

I got some echo from the interviewer at times; I wonder why.  Your voice comes through well. 

The interviewer slows the flow at times though nice to reach his audience.

Would like to see you do your own podcast or video on political, economic or foreign policy issues, blending it with wisdom learned through martial arts.

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile
Re: DB and DBMA in the media
« Reply #113 on: November 03, 2019, 08:25:48 PM »
Thank you very much.

Yeah there are some random tech glitches here or there.

Hope I wasn't to blunt with the guy ("It's a yes or a no question"  :roll: ) he was very nice.

I like the idea of doing a semi-regular podcast.  Would you like to be the interviewer?

DougMacG

  • Power User
  • ***
  • Posts: 13726
    • View Profile
Re: DB and DBMA in the media
« Reply #114 on: November 04, 2019, 06:17:15 AM »
"Hope I wasn't to blunt with the guy ("It's a yes or a no question"  :roll: ) he was very nice."

A couple of times yes, but he was seeking clarity and got it.   )

"I like the idea of doing a semi-regular podcast.  Would you like to be the interviewer?"

Yes.  I don't know if I would be good at it but I think we would know if it could work part way through the first try.

I couldn't go into as blindly as he did.  I would need to know in advance an idea of where you want the questions to lead, even though the best parts will no doubt be where it goes off-script.

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile
Re: DB and DBMA in the media
« Reply #115 on: November 04, 2019, 08:22:19 AM »
Is something the technology aspect of which you could handle? Maybe with Webmaster Bob as your advisor?


DougMacG

  • Power User
  • ***
  • Posts: 13726
    • View Profile
Re: DB and DBMA in the media
« Reply #116 on: November 04, 2019, 01:39:53 PM »
Is something the technology aspect of which you could handle? Maybe with Webmaster Bob as your advisor?

I was going to ask what kind of equipment you were using.  As a first step I looked up best podcast microphone and ordered a USB unit today to work with my computer.

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile
DBMA Guro Splinter Dog Antone Haley
« Reply #117 on: January 20, 2020, 10:46:22 PM »
« Last Edit: January 22, 2020, 09:07:02 AM by Crafty_Dog »

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile
DBMA in Russian Budo
« Reply #119 on: February 03, 2021, 02:22:24 PM »

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile
The Forgotten Story of the UFC's Flirtation with Stick Fighting
« Reply #120 on: February 20, 2021, 12:15:44 PM »
The forgotten story of UFC’s flirtation with stick fighting – The Athletic

‘Too extreme’: The forgotten story of the UFC’s flirtation with stick fighting
Shaheen Al-Shatti Feb 18, 2021 9

It’s often said that nothing was off-limits in the early days of MMA. And though that’s not entirely true, it’s not far off the mark either. With the UFC all too happy to poke the edges of polite society in its No Holds Barred years if it helped attract a few extra eyeballs, its metaphorical head was always on a swivel in search of the next great controversy or idea. And one of the wildest examples — one that’s been lost to history — was a proposal that floated across the promotion’s desk in 1995.


The UFC had already held a handful of successful pay-per-views by the end of 1994, the last of which — UFC 4 — featured a bout that perfectly embodied the lawless ethos of a fledgling sport. The image of Keith Hackney, a blue-collar air conditioning technician out of the Midwest, raining down a hurricane of blows upon the family jewels of Joe Son, one of the era’s many charlatans who represented his own fictional style called Jo Son Do, was peak No Holds Barred.


The popularity of those first shows coaxed a wave of martial arts oddities out of the woodwork, with many fighters representing their own obscure disciplines, and all of them seeking validation in the UFC’s tournaments. But one group’s aspirations rose higher than just competing: the Dog Brothers.


The brainchild of a trio of well-to-do friends out of Southern California, the Dog Brothers extolled a self-styled, weapon-based martial art that was essentially a loose combination of the Japanese discipline of kendo and the Philippine discipline of escrima, both of which focused on combat with wooden sticks.
All three creators went by elaborate nicknames — “Crafty Dog” Marc Denny, “The Guiding Force of the Dog Brothers”; “Top Dog” Eric Knaus, “The Fighting Force of the Dog Brothers”; and “Salty Dog” Arlan Sanford, “The Silent Force of the Dog Brothers” — as did their disciples. Matches were brutal and protective equipment was sparse. Their mission statement was a simple one — and they were all-in on their canine aesthetic.


“These guys were doing full-on stick fighting,” remembers UFC co-founder Campbell McLaren.
“They had this crest, and it was two dogs standing up fighting with sticks. Not real — like, cartoon dogs fighting with the escrima sticks. And then their motto was: ‘No suing.’”


The latter point was an important one. The UFC had burst into the public consciousness in part because of its willingness to embrace violence, but the Dog Brothers had raised the bar in that regard.


“They were white-collar guys and they would beat the fuck out of each other,” remembers UFC co-creator Art Davie. “Just beat the fuck out of each other with these sticks. They were still wearing like a (fencing) mask or a goalie’s face mask, and they were wearing some sort of gloves, but it wasn’t a big deal.


“They would wind up with fucked up knuckles or somebody would get a broken finger. And that’s how these things would end. Somebody would either signal defeat — very rarely — or they would get injured. They would get injured, and that’s what I found fascinating.”


A lawyer who continued competing in stick fighting until his late 40s, Denny insisted on his combatants “self-governing” their own matches, “without relying upon a referee.”


“No judges, no referees, no trophies,” Denny says.


“We’ve certainly had some concussions and plenty of broken bones. One guy had a split kneecap. So it’s serious, it’s rowdy.”


The outlaw tenor of the era fit the two groups to a tee. Believing to have found a kindred corporate spirit, the Dog Brothers broached conversations with the UFC in early 1995 with a proposition: Bring us on as mid-card programming between tournament bouts and we’ll not only kill the dead air on a pay-per-view, we’ll also show your audience a spectacle unlike any they’ve seen before.


And there was mutual interest, at least initially.


Davie attended two different Dog Brothers demonstrations — afternoons in Huntington Beach that were styled as “Gatherings of the Dog Pack,” which ended up being half kumite, half friendly neighborhood barbecue.


He came away genuinely intrigued by what he saw.


“There was Buck Dog, Spit Dog — everybody was a dog,” Davie says. “And it was funny because they were educated. These were not a bunch of yahoos from some corner of Los Angeles that you would’ve said, ‘Well, you know, it’s logical that they would have gotten (into this).’ … And they would just beat the frick out of each other, then they’d all barbecue chicken and hamburgers and we’d sit around and eat.


“One of the things I found once we did the first UFC is that there was a universe of people out there that was available. That was the beauty of the martial arts, is that every city had you-name-it. So there were people out there that we’d never heard of, and the universe was full of people in those days who were absolutely off the wall — and to me the Dog Brothers were just another wonderful, crazy group of guys who had gotten into these exotic martial arts and pursued them. So it was fascinating. I thought they were very legitimate, and I felt that the demonstrations I saw would have fascinated our audience.”


McLaren was equally smitten. The weaponry used at “Gatherings of the Dog Pack” wasn’t only limited to wooden sticks. From the traditional — whips, practice knives, triple staffs — to the outlandish such as hockey sticks, frying pans, and other household objects, any weapon was fair game as long as it was mutually agreed upon before a match.


The UFC had already done interstitial programming in the past, often in the form of an award presentation to a martial arts luminary, so it wasn’t a foreign proposition as far as pay-per-view resources. But McLaren also courted bombast as gleefully as Davie did, and in the Dog Brothers, he saw an untapped market that could turn into more than just a halftime show.


“The moment they start hitting each other and jumping around, the mask would come flying off. And I’m looking at this and I’m going, ‘This is the coolest stuff I’ve ever seen,’” McLaren said.


“They’re like proto-bros, right? ‘Bro, come on. We can do some stick fighting, bro. Come do it, bro. Come on.’ And then they beat the shit out of each other. And they’re like bamboo sticks, so there’s probably some concussions involved, but mostly it’s like scalp cuts, so it’s just a lot of blood. And I’m looking at this — I go, ‘this is fucking awesome.’ I mean, we need to do one of these fights in between fights and see if we could spin this off. Full-contact stick fighting.”


Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately depending on your opinion of grown men beating the living bejesus out of each other with wooden sticks, the temperature around UFC had already begun to rise by the time the Dog Brothers entered the picture. Pressure from media and politicians, both on the state and federal level, to shut down the sport was creeping through the front door of the UFC’s party in a way that felt soberingly real, and the infamous “human cockfighting” remarks of U.S. Sen. John McCain were lurking around the corner.


As early as 1994 at UFC 3, local law enforcement had already begun threatening to arrest athletes on assault charges if the promotion’s events proceeded as planned. As much as MMA thrived on controversy, it was becoming clear to all involved how dire the situation could get if they didn’t draw a line in the sand.
“We had a CFO that sometimes he’d literally pass out from stuff I would show him, so I brought him in, because he was kind of the litmus test. If he passed out, I knew it was good. And he passed out (watching the stick fighting), so I figured it was good,” McLaren says.


“But everybody just went, ‘No, you’re out of your mind. Are you kidding? We’re in trouble and it’s guys punching each other, and you want to bring in full-contact stick fighting?!’ And you’re laughing and I’m laughing as I tell this, but when I did it, it was like, ‘Oh, hell no, Campbell. No. And in fact — you should probably leave.’ It wasn’t even (a discussion). And I’m like, ‘Ah, come on! An exhibition? No suing!’ But that was that. It was enough.”


As bizarre as its brief lifespan may have been, the UFC’s flirtation with full-contact stick fighting died a swift death. In May 1995, Davie penned a wistful rejection letter to the Dog Brothers in which he wrote, “it is with great reluctance that I must tell you that stickfighting, such as your group has pioneered in the USA, is just too extreme for the UFC format at this time.”


The phrase “too extreme for the UFC” served as its own badge of honor in 1995 — “We’re proud of that one,” Denny says, laughing — but the matter was settled.


And so the sport moved on. Davie sold his share of the UFC by the end of 1995 and McLaren was pushed out of the picture soon after. MMA ultimately exploded in popularity over the ensuing decades, culminating in the UFC’s sale to WME-IMG in 2016 for a then record-breaking sum of over $4 billion. And the Dog Brothers even played their own small roles in the ecosystem.


Denny, one of the group’s founders, served as a judge for a single fight at UFC 10. His fellow stick-fighting apostle, Lester Griffin — aka “Surf Dog” — followed a similar path and judged myriad high-profile MMA events from 2006-16, counting the UFC, Bellator, Strikeforce, WEC and Invicta FC among his credits.
The Dog Brothers pressed on as well — their YouTube channel continues to upload content to this day, and their website still proudly displays Davie’s letter.


“If I could’ve made the decision unilaterally,” Davie says 26 years later, “especially me — the spectacle guy — I would have put them in.”


Who knows what could’ve been?


The UFC’s dalliance with stick fighting is now a lost footnote in history, but perhaps an alternate universe exists somewhere out there in the cosmos where the Dog Brothers reached out with their proposition before the deluge of outside pressure devoured the early UFC whole. Perhaps their weaponized mid-card exhibitions became a smash hit in that universe, and full-contact stick fighting turned into the spinoff McLaren always envisioned, a bastard cousin to the UFC’s original offering that spawned thousands of Dog Brothers gyms and “Gatherings of the Dog Pack” around the globe.


Probably not. But hey, anything was possible in those Wild West days.


(Photo of Art Jimmerson and Royce Gracie: Markus Boes)

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile
Part two
« Reply #122 on: April 01, 2021, 07:51:23 PM »
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jOCOvJH5aj8&t=16s

Mostly in Spanish, the parts with Sean are in English.

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile
Re: DB and DBMA in the media
« Reply #123 on: June 27, 2021, 08:02:48 PM »

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile
Euro Gathering
« Reply #124 on: August 21, 2021, 08:10:23 AM »

Crafty_Dog

  • Administrator
  • Power User
  • *****
  • Posts: 53270
    • View Profile
Men's Fitness
« Reply #125 on: October 30, 2021, 11:16:04 AM »
Iron John? Big wuss. Real men,  say the Dog Brothers, beat the crap out of each other with 30-inch clubs.

Underdog is flailing away at Dog Steve with a pair of 30-inch sticks before the watchful eye of the Crafty Dog and his canine cohorts. "Stop backing up!" Top Dog orders as Dog Steve charges forward, slashing his club at Underdog, who is backpedaling furiously in an attempt to avoid massive head trauma, broken bones or a kidney-popping thrust into his bare body.

"Swing harder!" Crafty Dog barks as the two fighters crash together -Underdog attempting to dig the end of his stick into his foe's exposed leg even as Dog Steve tries to crush Underdog's larynx in a chokehold.

Imposing rattan sticks clack together, African drums beat a primal counterpoint in the background, and the assembled crowd of 200 dog lovers woofs its approval. We're in the middle of a public park on a delightfully sunny California afternoon, watching two combatants trying to cave in each other's skulls. What could be better?

One man's cruelty to animals, after all, is another man's extreme sport. And things don't get much more extreme than Real Contact Stick-fighting, brought to you courtesy of the mangy Dog Brothers, a grassroots martial arts group whose biannual (sic) semi-public gatherings follow a Robert Bly kind of philosophy, bringing men together to rediscover their male energy through combat.

Except, as Crafty Dog puts it, "Bly was pussy-whipped. There isn't enough testosterone in his stuff." Testosterone isn't a problem when fighting Dog Brothers-style, except when you take a stick to the groin.


Sticking it out

In the bizarre m?lange of the martial arts world, stickfighting occupies a particularly esoteric niche. For decades, it was practiced largely by Filipinos, who originated and evolved the sport from their country's traditional tribal warfare techniques. As any Filipino martial artist would be proud to tell you, it was a stickfighter who offed Magellan when the explorer made the mistake of visiting their islands on his world cruise.

But impaling people on sticks is a hard tourism sell. So in recent years the Filipinos have modified their methods. The last public "death match" was held in Hawaii in 1948. Since then, attempts have been made to turn stickfighting into an internationally accepted martial art. Rules were drawn up for competition, and the sport has gained a certain amount of acceptance in the United States, particularly in California. But tournament competition requires that fighters be heavily padded to prevent injury.

And if you're a Dog Brother, that just isn't any fun.


Years of the dog

The group's pedigree goes back to New York in the late 1970s, when a young student named Eric Knauss discovered Filipino stickfighting between classes at Columbia University. At 6[feet] 4[inches] and 215 pounds, Knauss had the size and instinct for combat. His instructors (Leo Gaje and Tom Bisio) trained him in hardcore stickfighting techniques and turned him loose.

Knauss eventually moved to the West Coast, where he won numerous tournament championships and gained a reputation for insanity throughout California martial arts schools.

During what he calls his ronin, or wandering samurai phase, Knauss would visit schools at random, humbly asking if they trained with weapons and whether they'd like to do a little friendly sparring. Of course, his idea of friendly sparring was to wear no protection save a light head guard, and to go at it until one man surrendered or was rendered senseless.

"I only had a few takers," Knauss says, still slightly surprised. "But there were four or five who thought like I did in terms of getting to the core of what really works in a fight. It wasn't until I met Marc Denny and he took me to meet his teacher [the legendary Dan Inosanto] that we were really able to take root. That's how the Dog Brothers started."

But things didn't really get off the ground until 1988. Needing footage for their first instructional video, a half-dozen combatants met for three days of nonstop stickfighting in San Clemente, California's Rambless Park. Denny, a former attorney, showed up wearing cleats for traction on the grassy surface. Someone commented on what a crafty dog he was.

"I went home that night and picked up a Conan the Barbarian comic book," Denny says. "Conan was leading his band of mercenaries into battle, yelling, 'Come on, ye band of dog brothers!' It seemed like a natural name for us."

Denny, himself an Ivy League graduate and the group's guiding force, remained the Crafty Dog. Knauss, the best fighter, was dubbed the Top Dog. There were Salty Dogs, Shark Dogs, Sled Dogs ... a whole litter of stickfighting crazies who gained an underground cult following within the martial arts world, though they avoided publicity for obvious legal and practical reasons.

"Our mission has been to stay off the authorities' radar screens so we don't get shut down," Denny says.
Despite this, the Dog Brothers' videos, released through Panther Productions, the world's largest distributor of martial arts videos, have been wildly successful. The tapes blend instruction and fight footage and have risen to No. 3 on the distributor's sales charts, mainly through word of mouth.

And the word is that the Dog Brothers are some sick puppies.


Unchained melee

They have no rules in their matches except that fighters should remain friends at the end of the day. Oh, yeah, and one more: Try not to put your opponents in the hospital.

The result of these "rules" is friendly, but rabidly intense, combat.

The scraps take place in a wide circle of grass in a quiet suburban park within view of the ocean. The crowd is low-key and wildly diverse, a mix of tatted-up gangster lookalikes, a few groupies, serious martial artists, yuppies young and old, towheaded little kids and their dogs. Stickfighting the Dog Brothers way mixes grappling with technical stickwork; almost every match ends with both parties rolling around on the ground, looking to lock on a submission hold or rip off an opponent's protective mask and pound his face into Alpo.
The violence is incredible, but rarely personal. Fighters hug at the end of their matches, and when one martial artist loses his composure and begins smashing his prone opponent with excessive vigor, several Dogs jump in to separate the two.

Restraint doesn't mean nonviolent, though. At the end of the group's May gathering, the 20 participating fighters are covered with "stick hickeys" - ugly red welts caused by rattan whacking flesh. Serious injuries have occurred at past gatherings - a huge stick shot split one fighter's kneecap in half in 1996 - but for the most part, fighters control themselves well enough to prevent anyone from spending the night in the hospital.
When serious injuries occur, they're unusual and deeply regretted. Mike Florimini, the Rain Dog, is still fighting despite his guilt over kneecapping an opponent. "I was pretty upset by it," he says, "but we all agree, it's what we can be in for."

Aggression lesson

As author Tom Wolfe observed about modern art, a martial art must have a "persuasive theory," a raison d'etre. In pursuit of a reason for stickfighting's being, Denny incorporates a wide range of existential justification into what could be construed as felonious assault with a deadly weapon.

At the beginning of each gathering, he lectures the combatants on the philosophical and anthropological implications of Real Contact Stickfighting, quoting Nobel laureate Konrad Lorenz on the nature of aggression.
"Any animal that has friendship has intraspecies aggression. The two go hand-in-hand, " Denny says. "Lorenz observed that there's an instinctual need to discharge this aggression. We do it in a ritual way."

Denny propounds the importance of this need for a form of ritual energy discharge as he rails against the loss of traditional male-initiation rites in modern American society. This could easily sound pompous, but the Dogs' sense of humor keeps things light. Consider their intellectual credo: "Higher consciousness through harder contact."

"In a way, all we are is a bunch of kids meeting in the treehouse with our nicknames and secret handshakes," Denny says. "Too many people in martial arts take themselves too seriously, anyway."
Ultimate dog fighting?

But others in the martial arts world take the Dog Brothers quite seriously. Art Davie, former promoter of the Ultimate Fighting Championships, heard about the group in 1995 and was interested in including a match on one of his pay-per-view bloodfests. He went to the Dogs and watched some fights.

The baron of barbarism's reaction? "I thought these guys were stone crazy. They're beating each other with sticks!" What could be more telegenic?

"When I offered it to some cable outlets, they said, 'You want to show what?"' Davie recalls. "I wanted to put it on TV, but we have enough trouble with bare-knuckle fights. All we need is to show 30 seconds of Eric Knauss beating on a guy like he's Rodney King and they'd run me out of town on a rail."

If the UFC is seen by some as a barbaric reversion to the age of Roman gladiators, the Dog Brothers regress still further. Standing in a clearing watching two men with sticks circle each other, a nearby percussionist pounding out riffs on an African djembe drum, seems to transport you back in time: For a fleeting instant, you know what it was like 10,000 years ago,

when sticks were the only weapon and the clan gathered to watch two warriors battle for land, a woman or tribal status.

Of course, the Dog Brothers could be seen as a bunch of macho lunatics - and they certainly are - but that perception would overlook something more vital. When they talk about stickfighting being a male-initiation rite in the traditional sense, a truly transforming experience, it's not some New Age con. The courage required to stand up to a 30-inch club (or sometimes two) whizzing at your head is a special commodity in modern society, where computer workstations are a bigger physical threat than a raiding tribe.

As the whipped author and poet Robert Bly pointed out in his book Iron John, the contemporary male seems to have lost contact with that sense of an inner wildman which keeps him strong yet avoids the pitfalls of macho cruelty. Though stickfighting probably isn't the most enlightened way of establishing inner strength, it's revealing that while stickfighting abides by neither rules nor referees, there are also no winners declared and no trophies awarded. Fighters show up merely to test themselves. For example, the Underdog is actually a 50-year-old, 145-pound supplicant named John Salter.

Salter, who was once owner of a medical-management company, picked up the sticks just three years ago without ever having been in a fistfight. Now, he's a combat fanatic.

"The idea is not to hurt people, but to prepare yourself on many levels. It takes over your life, and it's a higher-quality life than I used to be living. I will lose if I don't keep doing this," he says.

It's also telling that most of the crowd at the Dog Brothers' melees seems able to connect with the group's philosophy. Like the fighters, the audience doesn't lust for blood - only for well-executed combat. In part to preserve this respectful atmosphere, the group is comfortable to stay underground.

"I think we've found our proper level," Denny says. "It would have been an experience to fight in the UFC, but the way we do it now feels right. If we fought in a competition, it would be hard to remain friends at the end of the day."

But for the voyeur, violence is often a drug. As people become inured to the bare-knuckle action of the UFC and its ilk, they'll eventually require a stronger fix. Despite the resistance his tamer event has met from cable providers, Davie insists that we'll eventually be able to tune in and see weapons duels on television. One bare-knuckle television tournament, the now-defunct World Combat Championships, wanted the Dog Brothers to compete and actually asked if they would fight without their head protection.

"I talked it over with Top Dog and Salty Dog," Denny says. "We said, 'If you can find the three of us opponents and meet our price, we'll do it. But it's going to be gory.'"

Ultimately, the WCC decided to pass, perhaps sensing that this was one idea best left to the dogs.

Writer Dog Mark Jacobs is a frequent contributor to Men's Fitness.
COPYRIGHT 1998 Weider Publications
COPYRIGHT 2000 Gale Group
Author: Mark Jacobs
Date: Aug. 1998
From: Men's Fitness(Vol. 14, Issue 😎
Publisher: Weider Publications LLC
"The dog pound"
Jacobs, Mark
Joe Weider's Men's Fitness, 1998-08-01, Vol.14 (😎, p.78
Source Citation   
MLA 9th Edition, APA 7th Edition, Chicago 17th Edition, Harvard
Jacobs, Mark. "The dog pound." Men's Fitness, vol. 14, no. 8, Aug. 1998, pp. 78+.
« Last Edit: October 30, 2021, 11:18:16 AM by Crafty_Dog »