I walked with confidence wearing my knee length black leather jacket and the customary black leather pants I had become known for. 

The guys who I had beaten in the past couldn’t look at me in the eyes without shaking their heads in disbelief.

It was early, but the octagon was surrounded by an animal mentality. Those who had come in looking for a good workout had postponed all of that to witness what was happening in the octagon.

 They were like ravenous dogs shaking the cage and screaming obscenities at the top of their lungs.

I whistled a tune I had heard growing up and they parted like the...