When the going gets tough, the tough pound each other

In the heart of the Depression, downtrodden Americans cheered boxing and all its savagery. They rooted for guys who literally fought their way out of tough situations. The fights between Joe Louis and Max Schmeling not only filled Yankee Stadium, they united a nation as people huddled around radios to hear the punches land the crowd roar approval.

This recession isn't the Great Depression, Buffalo Wild Wings in Naperville isn't Yankee Stadium, Brock Lesnar isn't Joe Louis and Ultimate Fighting isn't boxing. Yet. Even though the fights rarely make traditional TV sportscasts, the sport has been growing every year of this new millennium.

"People get into it. They cheer and everything," says Patrick Bode, manage of the Buffalo Wild Wings, which generally gets pretty packed on nights when there is no cover charge and half of the 50 TVs in the place are tuned to pay-per-view Ultimate Fighting Championship bouts. The UFC bills itself as "a combat sport" in a wire cage that mixes the martial arts into a form of fighting that takes in everything from boxing and wrestling to karate and kickboxing.

For Naperville buddies Bentley Patterson, 47, and Dan Carlson, 44, the fights are a perfect chaser for their lengthy and just-completed political sparring. Patterson, a Barack Obama supporter, and Carlson, who voted for John McCain, find some political parallels in their enthusiasm for ultimate fighting.

"It was McCain who kind of jumped on the bandwagon to ban it in the United States," says Carlson, recalling how the Arizona senator got the then-cult sport he dubbed "human cockfighting" outlawed in most states and off TV in the 1990s. Instead of killing the sport, however, McCain's attack convinced the UFC folks to add some rules and move from a cult following to the mixed-martial arts format that now makes it a main event. Adding regulations such as a literal banning of "kicking a man when he is down" transformed UFC into the billion-dollar empire Patterson, Carlson and millions of viewers nationwide now enjoy.

"Just make sure you get it on the record that there's a Republican who wants more regulations," Patterson jabs at Carlson.

Carlson says he and Patterson study the fighters, their backgrounds and their experience, looking for substance in a contender worth supporting.

"Politically, we did very much the same thing," Patterson says.

In Saturday's fight, 45-year-old Randy Couture, an aging hero and Army veteran, tried for one last shot at glory. Only 220 pounds, the fighter known as "The Natural" was holding his own against his 265-pound opponent "until he got hit in the temples," Carlson says.

The victor was Brock Lesnar, 31, a relative newcomer with rock-star popularity who burst onto the UFC screen and peaked at just the right time. The fighters' biographies hit some of the same notes sounded during political campaigns, and both brawlers talk about all the respect and admiration they give each other.

"There's a lot of God and country in this sport," Patterson says.

Carlson and Patterson both note UFC's upcoming "Fight for the Troops" - a three-hour, free live broadcast on Spike TV network that will seek donations for the Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund, which helps families of soldiers killed and severely wounded.

"I'm kind of a pacifist, so the first couple of times I watched it, it bothered me," says Patterson, who now is a full-fledged fan. "If you can get past the brutal violence, there is a sense of dedication, honor and respect between the fighters."

The admiration, discipline and work ethic impress Carlson.

"It's got more depth than boxing," says Carlson.

And more fans - a base that keeps growing despite the economic climate.

If we do mirror the Great Depression, look for Brock Lesnar to become as famous as Joe Louis. In the meantime, things aren't quite that harsh.

After all, Patterson, who works in home improvement, and Carlson, a certified public accountant, still have the wherewithal to sometimes make friendly wagers on the UFC fights they watch. The loser doesn't buy the winner a shot of booze either.

"No," Patterson says. "We bet lattes."