By Zain Deane

I first saw a UFC fight in 1994. Back then, it had nowhere near the mainstream appeal it enjoys today. Back then, it was a video acquired by one of my teammates in our Tae Kwon Do club. Beyond the martial arts scene, UFC was relatively unknown. It’s not a pretty sport to watch; instead of Ali’s floating dance, UFC fights are slugfests. Most of them end up on the ground, where the fighters—all Mixed Martial Arts, or MMA, specialists—continue to whale on each other and attempt to lock in any one of a range of submission holds. It’s a raw spectacle, bereft of padding or gloves or grace.

What it does give you is a true fight, packed with muscle, adrenaline, testosterone, and blood. People get messed up on UFC. But still, it remained largely a minor sport, with no great media attention or public following, until reality TV helped it out. The Ultimate Fighter brought UFC to the common man, and brought it, via cable television, straight into your living room. Since then, Ultimate Fighting and mixed martial arts has become so popular that you need to pay extra to watch its big-ticket events. Corporate sponsorship includes Burger King and Scion—not just the latest nutrition supplement to hit the market. More than a few Ultimate Fighters have reached celebrity status. And UFC is just getting started.

So what’s behind the sudden insertion of a violent and bloody sport into the mainstream? What makes us tune in to see these men pummel each other silly? And how did we so readily embrace it? I’m amazed at the number of people who follow the sport. But maybe I shouldn’t be. The biggest draw in the country is wrestling, and these are choreographed performances. Is it any wonder that we love to watch two men get into an octagonal ring and go at it for real? You can hear the crowds around them lustily cheering their heroes on; it kinda reminds me of the Roman Coliseum, actually.

And maybe one day soon, UFC will be just as popular. Boxing is in a public relations spiral, due mostly to a lack of a dynamic heavyweight contender. Take away the middleweight legends who are still fighting, and there’s nothing left. And while you see more bloody faces and injuries than ever on professional wrestling today, we all know it’s staged. One could argue that UFC is simply the natural progression of contact sport, skilled fighters facing off in a ring until one of them is defeated. Referees are there to make sure the damage is limited and no limbs, necks or heads are broken.

I think that’s partly true, and I can appreciate and respect the abilities of these competitors. They are finely tuned athletes and they train for years to get where they are. But I also think UFC’s growing fame is a reflection of what we want to see. We want more blood, we want it to be real and visceral and painful. Remember the days when “American Gladiators” fought each other with oversized Q-tips? Remember when seeing just a little blood on regular cable TV was a major scandal? Those days are long gone.

Now, we have a new breed of gladiators. UFC is not the only outfit to lure us with the siren call blood and guts, fists and kicks. There are all kinds of extreme fighting out there, ready to tempt you. If the networks could figure out a way to shoot people in the leg on TV, they would show it to us every night, call it Pain Factor or something. We love our violence in the U.S. We emulate what we see on TV, with fight clubs and amateur groups around the country meet regularly to do what was once considered “disturbing the peace.”

I enjoy watching UFC, and I love the way they regulate their fights to keep it as clean and professional as they can. But I am surprised that it is a mainstream event, accessible to everybody. And I don’t understand how nudity in any form is immediately censored, but one man splitting open another man’s face is just fine. As a society, we are so very concerned about violence in our midst. But as viewers, we can’t get enough. Let’s see what happens when Pain Factor goes on the air.