Michael “The Count” Bisping—The Newest “Horizontal Brit”

I pride myself on being a boxing historian, and a die-hard follower of “the sweet science” since childhood.

I remember watching the classic, and now historic boxing match involving Muhammad Ali and George Foreman known as “The Rumble in the Jungle” with my grandfather, and how it affected me profoundly.

At the tender age of 12, my young eyes were glued to the television as I witnessed the greatest heavyweight fighter ever(Ali) suddenly spring off the ropes in the eighth—after being destroyed for seven long hard rounds—and flatten Foreman with three seemingly effortless punches.

I was hooked.

Boxing has its own violent yet romantic history—a history filled with death but also triumphant tests of the human will.

And in this writer’s opinion, it’s also testament to the depth of man’s courageous primal nature and unrelenting spirit.

That being said, if we do our research thoroughly and correctly, we will discover that some of the most “courageous boxing failures” have originated in the rugged yet historically beautiful country of England.

Dubbed “The Horizontal Brits” after the second world war by the old-time, cigar-smoking sportswriters, English warriors such as Henry Cooper, and more recently Frank Bruno and possibly Ricky Hatton, have become the stereotypical ”horizontal” British prize fighter.

Today I write about cagefighting—specifically the top mixed martial arts promotion, the Ultimate Fighting Championship—and I have a new name selection to add to the list of courageous British fighting failures.

The epitome of gallant but epic failure in today’s rapidly evolving sport of cagefighting is the Ultimate Fighting Championship’s 205-turned-185-pound failure and British-born mixed martial artist Michael “(down for) The Count” Bisping.

Bisping is, in this writer’s opinion, another in a long line of courageous British-born losers.

The UFC’s most recent poster boy for pain and punishment, not unlike his boxing forefathers, can also stand up to some big punches and roughhouse tactics before being overpowered and knocked silly by much more experienced and highly skilled opponents.

One of the reasons is extremely simple in theory but very difficult in practice. Bisping can only fight moving in one direction—to his left.

His last three opponents have gotten the memo (so to speak), and—even though he emerged victorious against one of them—all three easily succeeded in tagging him repeatedly with powerful overhand rights as Bisping carelessly sidestepped directly into the path of the the oncoming train.

After narrowly escaping a knockout in the first round against slugger Dan Henderson, his cornermen pleaded with him to circle in the “opposite” direction, away from danger. Did he listen?

Maybe he did; however, it’s possibly too late to teach the proverbial old dog new tricks.

Hendo knocked Bisping out cold.

Bisping is right-handed, and he seems to feel a false sense of security when he moves in his self-defeating but preferred lateral direction.

What’s the remedy, you ask?

Well, if I were him I would start training from the lefty or “southpaw” stance and practice circling to my right while throwing right jabs.

This would solve the “getting tagged by more powerful righties,” problem, and his right-hand jab would also benefit by having that extra power, due to him being a right-handed fighter.

It’s only a thought, and since I tore him down a little bit here in this article—as an amateur boxer, and former sparring partner—I thought it would only be fair to offer him a little of my corrective encouragement.

And who knows? He may already be practicing my suggestion. If so, I sincerely apologize for referring to him as cagefighting’s version of “The Horizontal Brit.”

Until he proves it by demonstrating some adjustments, though, that’s the reputation that will precede him.