The UFC ventures back to New Jersey for UFC 128 on Saturday night, captained by a light-heavyweight championship bout that has the fight world abuzz. Embodying the cliche "meteoric rise", the smooth panache and unstoppable momentum of Jon Jones have propelled him to a 'new school versus old school' confrontation with Pride legend Mauricio "Shogun" Rua.
At 12-1, Jones is virtually unblemished, his lone loss being a DQ after mounting and jackhammering a series of illegal elbows to a floundering Matt Hamill. The ease with which Jones manhandled Hamill probably served as the turning point of his career that signified he was on another level despite the outcome. As the prestige of his opponents increased, his performances did as well, as commanding stoppages over Vera, Matyushenko, and Bader followed.

Mauricio "Shogun" Rua is the Chute Boxe legend that dazzled fans with whirlwind after whirlwind of malicious Thai combinations, quickly soaring to prominence in 2005 by cleaving through Rampage, Overeem, Lil' Nog, and Arona to win Pride's Middleweight (205 lbs) tournament. Shogun also soared immediately into the elite level like Jones, but encountered some challenges along the way, starting in the UFC with some lackluster showings that included tapping out to a Forrest Griffin choke.

Some of this can be attributed to the three surgeries on his knee, the last of which took place just after beating Machida for the title in May of 2010. Tidbits like this are cause to start the analysis off with a few unknowns before we dissect how they match up in each phase of combat.

Variables
Some aspects of a fight are impossible to define but can make a world of difference, and the condition of Rua's knee is one of them. Just compare his dexterity and agility in the Griffin and Coleman fights to those with Liddell and Machida: he went from labored movement and sluggish reactions to the Shogun of old with blinding speed and unparalleled alacrity. Since his vivacious motion is such an integral part of his style, the condition of his knee is a key factor.
The size difference between the two was telling at the weigh-ins. Jones' freakish stature gives him a laundry list of advantages everywhere: reach in the striking department, leverage in the clinch, and a tentacle-like grasp on the ground. His frame gives him a bonus multiplier in every area and with almost every technique. This will be Shogun's biggest obstacle to overcome.

Another question mark is the reality behind the hype surrounding Jones. Despite jaw-dropping performances, he has about half as many fights as Shogun and hasn't swam in the deep end of the pool. Nearly every one of his noteworthy wins were against wrestlers (O'Brien, Hamill, Matyushenko, Bader) with mediocre stand-up and no guard-game. Vera is the closest he's come to facing an opponent as well rounded and dangerous as Shogun.
Experience can be a curse or a blessing, but the fact remains that Jones hasn't felt this type of pressure before, and Shogun's no stranger to headlining marquee events. It's also been nearly a year since Rua's competed while rehabbing his knee, while Jones ran through Bader less than two months ago.


Free Movement / Striking Phase


Let me define how completely insane Jon Jones' 84.5" reach is: heavyweight Stefan Struve, the lankiest in the division at nearly 7'0" tall, has an 83" reach. Seriously -- think about that. Shogun has a short to average reach of 76" for a light-heavyweight. So, look down and imagine how much better you could land punches if your forearms were literally twice the length they are now. We're talking about go-go-gadget arms of cartoonish proportions.

Jones' height and reach are god-given assets that Shogun must very specifically compensate for. He'll have to react faster, adjust the timing, distance and angles of his strikes, and cover more ground on his incoming attacks and defensive back-pedaling. Free phase combat is different than any other aspect in that a fight always starts standing, and is therefore the doorway leading to clinching or grappling. I believe that this entire fight will hinge upon whoever controls the range and closes distance more effectively.
What makes things so interesting is that Shogun might be the best in the world at closing the gap and making adjustments on the fly.

It was this trait that enabled him to crack Machida's code, who confounded his opponents with acute dictation of striking range.
In both of their fights, Shogun anticipated both the distance and the angles that Machida was circling out and countering with, sometimes sprinting halfway across the cage in hot pursuit just to land one clean leg kick.
Though somewhat subtle, check out how Shogun anticipates that Chuck would step to the right and counter with his left-hook; an Iceman trademark that usually followed with a right hand that lead to many knockouts. Shogun explodes straight-forward into range, but loops his own hook wide and to the left to catch Chuck with his chin exposed.

Jon Jones might have some of the most creative stand-up in MMA today -- as disguising a nasty spinning back-elbow inside a low single attempt is just downright brilliant -- but his unorthodox style could get him in trouble against Rua. Jones rarely strings together more than two-piece combinations, and at the top of the food chain with Shogun, there is more risk than reward with some of his flashier moves.

Strategically, we haven't seen him employ his reach and footwork to keep foes at bay; he usually just lets a few unconventional strikes loose, selecting from any of a wide variety of kicks and punches to set up a takedown attempt. Though I'm not doubting he has knockout power on the feet, Jones has yet to show it. All of his high-level stoppages came from either submissions or elbows on the ground.

Shogun's Muay Thai background and years of experience will give him the strong edge here. Jones' abstract style is definitely hard to gauge, and I'm curious to see who will assume the role of the aggressor between the two, but I think we might see Rua's ice cold composure come into play as he starts off methodically to get a read on Jones' pace, patterns and habits, hunting for the slightest mistake that his explosive power can capitalize on.

I expect mostly short blasts of boxing combinations fired from a very balanced stance, as any kicks could expose him to takedowns and should be carefully selected and used sparingly (though not entirely neglected). Rua has top-shelf low kicks that could find a home on the slightly protruding lead leg of Jones, but just as a few successful connections with the technique would slow Jones down and hinder his movement, the risk of it leading to a takedown could be too much of a gamble.

The catch is that every time Shogun advances and commits to his punches, his balance and poise must be uncanny, as the risk of Jones embracing the forward momentum to swallow him up in a Greco Roman nightmare will always be looming. When the Chute Boxe prodigy jumps on an opportunity, he doesn't do it half-assed with a punch or two. As shown in the gif above, when Shogun finds an opening, he unloads a furious hail of heat-seeking missiles, all fueled by proven fight-ending power. That's his biggest asset, but could also be his downfall if he doesn't harness his aggression.

Walking that fine line of hurling heavy, fireball punches, yet tempering his offense enough to react accordingly if Jones holds his ground and drops levels will be the fulcrum for Shogun's success.
Advantage: Shogun

Clinch Phase
Shogun and Jones are phenomenal clinch fighters, but for very different reasons. Rua likes to hang out in the clinch, worming his grip for the Thai plum, preferring to keep things standing in order to chain knee-based combinations together. Most of the Jon Jones highlight reels center around his surreal throws and clever trips from the clinch.

"Bones" is a textbook example of how effective Greco Roman skills with serious leverage can be. The general consensus is that the short, muscular frame (mesomorph) is best suited to MMA and wrestling, but the gangly Jones shatters that myth. He's exhibited flawless technique backed by quickness, strength, and remarkable timing to toss accomplished wrestlers around the cage effortlessly.

These unbelievable displays in the clinch account for much of fortune and fame. At any time, he dictated the location and controlled the pace against Bonnar and Gusmao. His overwhelming Greco-game is also what enabled him to put his next few opponents exactly where they are weakest -- flat on their back. It's a common rule of thumb that fighters with a wrestling foundation are at their best on the top and their worst on the bottom. O'Brien, Hamill, Vera, Matyushenko, and Bader were as helpless as an overturned turtle trying to work their guard against the murderous Jones.

The gif of Shogun chasing Machida (above) was intended to illustrate how he can bomb a four-punch combination in the blink of an eye, then unfurl another two, all by tracking his opponent's motions and reactions. Even with his aforementioned ability to cut angles when attacking, that's an example where he blitzes straight forward. The pros are that he can touch your chin many times at light speed, but the cons are the list of counters a wrestler has for straight-line approaches. In these cases, Machida answered by stepping forward with a sharp knee to the midsection, which is like a battering ram to the ribcage. Instead of responding with a strike, it's likely that Jones will opt for a takedown.

In the upper-right image, notice the perfect timing to duck the incoming strikes, grab the bodylock, and hit an inside trip on Matyushenko. Obviously, the light-heavyweight champion is going to be lighter on his feet, won't telegraph the exchange as much, and be much more wary of the takedown, but Rua still bursts forward like a madman, which could place him into the trap Jones wants to spring,


It's worth noting that -- knowing Jones wants to navigate through striking range, get low and grab the clinch -- the gif to the left depicts a way Shogun can make Jones leery about dropping levels at close range. This is not unlike Machida's straight knee that he fired down the center of the pocket against Shogun and Ortiz. Straight knees, flying knees (though high-risk), big uppercuts, and kicks like this could instill some hesitation in Jones by filling the lower, close-range area he wants to enter with mean strikes. Shogun has many tools to repel Jones with when he tries to breach the perimeter.
If Jones does get his hands on him, the champ prefers to stay afoot and pummel for control to land aggressive strikes, but the clinch is a virtual launch-pad for Jones to send his opponents hurling to the canvas in one way or the other. Given that his past foes may have presented more resistance in the clinch than Rua, "Bones" gets the nod here.

This is the location where Jones has excelled immensely, and he's even made it clear it's where he wants to force Shogun. From the UFC press conference via USA Today, Jones said:


"My brother has amazing Greco-Roman wrestling, and since he's been here, my Greco-Roman has just come back completely. I'm definitely going to embrace the clinch in this fight."
Jones' brothers are 6'3", 300-pound NFL lineman Arthur Jones, and also Syracuse 6'5", 250-pound defensive end Chandler Jones. Then, from an interview with USA Today after the Bonnar fight:

"I look at my clinch as a little more active clinch, where I'm always looking for takedowns or different angles or strikes and things. MMA fighters pretty much, once they get into the clinch, they feel as if they're being dominant by pushing in. And that's not necessarily being dominant, that's setting yourself up to being thrown. ... I get to now execute a lot of throws against not-so-wrestling-savvy MMA fighters."

The gif to the left illustrates exactly what Jones is talking about in the quote above: he initiates a cerebral shift in force to catch Bonnar completely off-balance.
Even though Shogun is not a wrestler, he's still highly adept in the clinch -- but this is where Jones has indeed made his mark as a legitimate virtuoso. Not only does he integrate some Judo techniques in with his clinch-work, but his ingenious creativity also deserves mention here, and again, his awkward size makes Jones the clear pick in this category.
Advantage: Jones

---------- Post added at 06:30 AM ---------- Previous post was at 06:29 AM ----------

Grappling Phase
Unfortunately, I have to digress, because don't think you can you do a simple one-on-one comparison of skills here. Before I get into Rua's technical sweeps, submissions, and adept Brazilian Jiu Jitsu all around, the rules of engagement in the UFC should be defined.

Nowadays, we're seeing referees hollering to "Work!" and "Improve your position!" literally seconds after the fight hits the ground. When Aaron Simpson finally took Mark Munoz down at UFC 123, he was given just over twenty seconds (and was in the middle of passing guard) when the ref stood them up. In the Freire-Lowe fight at the "Fight for the Troops 2" show, Freire had the arm isolated and the kimura locked when the fight was restarted.

The emphasis is that there is little to no time for the fighter on the bottom to work his guard. BJJ is an art rooted in patience and "flowing with the go", philosophies that are difficult to implement when you only get half a minute to make something happen (unless you're eating spoonfuls of ground-n-pound). This means that unless you latch a submission or sweep your opponent to get on top, you are losing in the judges eyes. Watch Javi Vasquez school Chad Mendes off his back in the first round of their WEC 52 fight, then note that all three judges awarded the frame to Mendes.

The notions that judges drastically over-value takedowns and always assume 'whoever is on top is winning' are painful realities. Were that not the case, the way these two stack up on the ground would be much different.

There's no question that the elbows Jones hammers down pack a tremendous wallop, as Brandon Vera's mangled nose and shattered orbital bone can attest to. Vera also represents the most skilled submissionist Jones has faced, and though he does have some impressive grappling credentials at the Pan Ams and Grappler's Quest along with being a recognized Greco Roman competitor ... "the truth" is that Vera only has one win by submission in his entire career, and was just outright handled on the ground by Thiago Silva.

Jones has never encountered an experienced black belt with a crafty guard like Shogun, who placed 5th in the Mundials as a blue-belt and won the South American Championships. Most of the mentions of creativity have gone to Jones in this analysis, but let's not forget the slick leglock Shogun dropped for against Liddell. I'm not insinuating that exact move will be replicated and I realize the champ also has only one sub-win, but just as there's a chance that Jones' size or unconventional flair might make the difference, Shogun has that same potential to alter the fight with his own innovative style.

Unfortunately for the purity of the sport, I think the incredibly devastating power Jones has shown with his elbows from the top in conjunction with the general disadvantage the guard player has in modern day MMA, the scales tip towards the challenger here. If we accepted that those slow-paced moments when the crowd boos and the fans complain about "stalling", a minor struggle for wrist control or a subtle attempt to "bait and switch" may not look exciting, but can all be small steps in a sequence that end up leading to something monumental.

However, the skewed perception, the fact that Jones will likely be the top player, and the ungodly destruction of his elbows make this his realm.
Advantage: Jones

Summary
Even though I consider myself a crusty, old school, hardcore MMA fan, the way Jones matches up with Shogun size- and skill-wise justifies why he's the favorite to win this. Where Shogun thrives and made his name in the sport -- with video game-like strikes and a brutal Thai clinch -- are where Jones has the most outlandishly ridiculous traits, a reach-length that exceeds the tallest heavyweight's, and pure Greco Roman wizardry.

So please keep that in mind as I conclude by picking Mauricio "Shogun" Rua to retain his championship. Feel free to make your choice based on my best attempt at objectivity in the breakdowns above, but my final selection is rife with personal opinion.

Don't worry, by hedging my bet like this I can both never be wrong, but also never be right. On paper, Jones should win this fight despite his inexperience. He's long and tall, with a varied arsenal of solid striking, awe-inspiring throws, and bone-splitting elbows from the top.

However, there are many questions surrounding him as well. He's never fought in a title fight, nor squarely absorbed a punch or a kick with the velocity and power of Shogun. Just like the champ's had a ten-month layoff and three knee surgeries, Jones fought just over a month ago and has been rushed to the eye of the storm. "Bones" has looked unstoppable, but he's only fought opponents on or outside the fringe of the elite echelon, and Shogun does everything better than all of them in every area besides wrestling.

Rua has gone through his ups and downs on his nearly decade-long journey to the apex of MMA, and I just have a feeling that this will be the first of the "downs" for Jon Jones, who has all the potential in the world to be the best fighter in the game.

In this instance, I'm taking proven performance over raw potential. Anytime there's a wide chasm of unknown elements, I'm leaning toward the man who has already been in the fire and emerged stronger, who has sculpted the pain of a loss into becoming a better fighter.
Despite what the stats or logic might warrant ...
My prediction: Shogun by TKO