The Joint at the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino, packed on Saturday night for the World Extreme Cagefighting event, was the perfect venue for such a raw and sensory form of entertainment.
Above all because of the intimacy engendered and sustained in the Joint, where we in the audience all seemed to be next to—or on top of—the cage, rendering the six large monitors and two flat-screen TVs surrounding the makeshift arena subsidiary. For we could see the mixed martial arts action inside the cage in vivid detail from any point within the Joint’s four walls, as if everyone in the house had a privileged seat.
Even the guys with mohawks and the girls with irresistible cleavage, sitting in the back, who for their $25 tickets relished in the supreme pleasure of knowing that their favorite—or least favorite—fighters could hear their comments shouted during breaks between rounds, while the Hard Rock waitresses hurried to supply us fans our cocktails.
We were all so close to the action that we could hear it in our chests, like thunder repercussions, when a fighter was slammed into the canvas; in the depths of our bowels and the tips our skin we could feel the ebb and flow of each of the nine fights on the card, only three of which went to the score cards and seven of which drew blood, whose copper qualities we could not only smell but taste, too, we were all so close.
And we couldn’t get enough, cheering nonstop until the final knockout of the final bout brought an end to our invigorating night watching the WEC at the Joint in the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino.
The throw down: Getting schooled on rock, paper, scissors
It is very real, and very serious. Don’t laugh. I did, and it was a mistake. This is no longer for the last piece of pizza or who rides shotgun. With $50,000 up for grabs, the tone of the Bud Light USA Rock Paper Scissors National Tournament at Mandalay Bay this past Sunday was sober, even though most of the spectators were not.
Speaking with Matti Leshem, co-commissioner of the league that is barely a year and a half old, I wiped the RPS smirk off immediately.
“I will play you right now for $1,000,” he said, straight-faced. “Put some money down, and we’ll see if you respect the sport then. This isn’t about luck, it’s about skill.”
He claimed to know what my first throw would be before I threw it (this kind of foresight into your enemy is apparently instrumental to success within the sport). “Paper, naturally; you’re a writer.” Since he knew my profession he also respected the fact that I could in no way stand to lose a grand over a hand gesture.
I had to relearn the rules, which are much more complex than originally explained to me in my second-grade cafeteria.
First of all, know how to say it. Referring to it as paper, rock, scissors might get you bitch-slapped; and be sure not to get it confused with the UK version of scissors, paper, stone.
“This is America—we play RPS,” Leshem preached. “It has reached a fever pitch, and it has more cultural currency than ever. This is the game of all games.”
Scissors cuts paper, rock smashes scissors, and paper covers rock, right? Oh, there is so much more. Don’t throw a subpoena on accident—when paper is delivered with the palm up—it is rude and cocky. And don’t dare go for the faux pump—throwing on the second pump instead of the third to try and disrupt your opponent’s train of thought—you’ll get docked a point.
Jamie Langridge of Odessa, Texas, came away the victor with fists full of cash after throwing a couple of his own, instantly immortalized among the RPS community, which is much larger than you could ever imagine. He played the odds and won.
If you throw rock 100% of the time you have a 66.6% chance of either winning or tying every time, and only a 33.3% chance of losing. However if your opponent catches on, and predicts that you are going this direction, you’re in trouble. See? Serious.
No one can really lose, though, with all the regional winners given an all-expenses-paid trip to Vegas, a weekend of parties and Bud Light free-flowing in every direction included.
“This is just the start,” Leshem said. “We are looking into the idea of a casino table game with RPS and then possibly even an Olympics. We want to bring the world together, to stop throwing stones at one another and just throw rock.” –Justin Jimenez