The action was intense last night (Sat., June 2, 2018) at Bare Knuckle FC live on pay-per-view (PPV) from inside Cheyenne Ice and Events Center in Cheyenne, Wyoming. To watch Bare Knuckle FC in its entirety click here. From 18-second knockouts to five-round barn burners, we’ve compiled all of the highlights below. It’s a tremendous hodgepodge of furious uppercuts, overhand rights, bloody faces, and all the bare knuckle fun you can handle. The sickest finish of the evening went to boxer Sam Shewmaker when he leveled former Bellator MMA fighter Eric Prindle with one overhand right just 18 seconds into the first round. It’s exactly the type of finish you would picture when thinking of bare knuckle boxing. Bare knuckle boxing veteran Bobby Gunn improved his ridiculous record to 72-0 in a 41-second knockout win over Irineu Beato Costa Jr.. Gunn went to the body early and Costa Jr. immediately went down. The finish looked a little funny, but you can judge for yourself. Former UFC fighter Bec Rawlings cashed in during a co-main event appearance opposite Alma Garcia, eventually finishing the bout via doctor’s stoppage at the end of the second round. Former UFC brawler Joey Beltran made an appearance last night in a wild bout with 90-fight MMA veteran Tony Lopez. Beltran battered Lopez early at almost every turn, but a bloody Lopez refused to go away and piled on his own offense in the fourth and the fifth. In the end, it was Beltran who escaped the Fight of the Night candidate with the win. Hopefully this wasn’t the only time we get to see Bare Knuckle FC. The price tag was well worth it and nearly every fighter showed up to throw heavy bombs. The pace between bouts was really nice, too. Bare Knuckle FC should be returning this September. For complete Bare Knuckle FC results and coverage click here.<doc-sep>CHEYENNE, Wyo. — Bare-knuckle boxing, last practiced with fanfare on American soil when legendary champion John L. Sullivan was knocking out men in the 1880s, made its official return Saturday night. Billed as the first legal, sanctioned and state-regulated bare-knuckle event in U.S. history, the 10-card bout got underway at the Cheyenne Ice and Events Center in front of a sellout crowd of 2,000. A potentially far bigger audience watched the pay-per-view telecast. Fighters wearing gauze wrapped around their hands but with knuckles exposed paraded in the “squared circle,” specially designed for the event that prompted threatening phone calls, according to promoter David Feldman. “One guy said, ‘I’m going to welcome you to Wyoming with a bullet in your head,’ " Feldman, founder of Bare Knuckle Fighting Championships, told USA TODAY Sports. "Just a lot of junk that came our way. "I know that most people are just talking, trying to scare me off, and I didn’t want to take it seriously. But you never know what may happen.’’ With a K-9 patrol dog trained to detect explosives on hand, the event went off without a hitch. The fight card included 15 mixed-martial arts fighters, four boxers and one kickboxer — all established professionals, Feldman said. A co-main event featured two women, MMA fighter Bec Rawlings of Australia and boxer Alma Garcia of Denver. The other co-main event featured Ricco Rodriguez, a former UFC heavyweight champion. Seven of the 10 fights were decided by knockout or technical knockout, and only three fights went beyond the third round on a bloody night. In the co-main events, Rawlings won in a second-round TKO and Rodriguez won by decision. Bryan Pedersen, chairman Wyoming Combat Sports Commission, responded to critics who call bare-knuckle boxing barbaric and objected to Wyoming sanctioning the event. (Feldman, the promoter, said 28 other states refused to do so.) Noting that bare-knuckle fighters can use only their fists, while MMA fighters and kickboxers can strike an opponent in the head with their elbows, knees and shins, Pedersen said, “That’s something where we can just look at and say, ‘This (bare-knuckle boxing) is going to be a safer sport than the two that we already regulate.' ’’ But precautions were in place for what was expected to be a bloody event. Two ringside doctors, rather than the standard one, were on hand, and two ambulances were parked outside the center. Feldman said the show cost $500,000 to produce and he expressed confidence that fans would get their money’s worth. Tickets were priced from $50 to $200 and the pay-per-view telecast was available for $29.99 on outlets such as fite.tv. “Not everybody wanted us here, but now that we’re here they’re welcoming us,’’ Feldman said before the fight. “We’re getting a tremendous response all around the world. It’s just unbelievable.’’<doc-sep>CHEYENNE, Wyo. — Blood covered the face of D.J. Linderman, who was trading punches in a heavyweight bout that drew cheers from the crowd. Then a ringside physician emerged. The man climbed into the ring at the end of the second round and inspected Linderman’s pulverized face. The right eye looked swollen shut. The nose kept bleeding. Assorted cuts oozed blood. When the bout ended moments later due to doctor’s stoppage, Arnold Adams, the winning fighter, theatrically kissed his bare knuckles. Indeed, knuckles took star billing Saturday night at the Ice and Events Center during a 10-fight card that was billed as the first legal, sanctioned and state-regulated bare-knuckle boxing event in U.S. history. “This is my baby, this is what got the job done,” Adams said later, admiring the knuckles of his left hand, the source of a punishing jab. “Every time I threw it, it touched him and the whole crowd went ‘ooooh.’” That sound, and the sight of bare knuckles hitting faces, figures to be spreading fast. Wyoming is set to host up to five more bare-knuckle events this year, and a handful of other states have expressed interest in sanctioning shows like this one. No more than 2,000 people could squeeze into the Cheyenne arena that sits across the street from the Stage Coach Motel and next door to the now-shuttered Hitching Post Inn. But the event was available on pay-per-view, and the fights generated buzz on social media thanks to the likes of the knuckle-kisser and his bare-knuckled buddies. With their hands wrapped with tape and gauze but knuckles exposed, the fighters kept the ringside physicians and viewers alert. Seven of the 10 bouts were decided by a knockout or technical knockout, and only three of the fights went more than three rounds. The bloody affair surely will stoke opposing sides in the moral fight over bare-knuckle boxing. In 1889, The Marquess of Queensberry Rules that mandate the use of gloves in boxing came into effect in the USA. That also was the year of the last major bare-knuckle heavyweight world championship, won by the famed John L. Sullivan. Traditional boxing became the law of the land and part of a culture that produced legendary fighters such as Muhammad Ali, Sugar Ray Robinson and Rocky Marciano. The bare-knuckle brawlers were for the past 129 years relegated to the shadows. Until now. Wyoming has became the first state to sanction bare-knuckle fights. Opponents of the state’s decision — and those who believe that boxing without gloves is barbaric — might have contributed to threatening phone calls fight promoter David Feldman said he received. So Feldman said he decided to bring in a K-9 patrol dog at a cost of $1,500 a day. “One guy said, ‘I’m going to welcome you to Wyoming with a bullet in your head,’” said Feldman, president of Bare Knuckle Fighting Championships based in Pennsylvania. “Just a lot of junk that came our way. “I know that most people are just talking, trying to scare me off, and I didn’t want to take it seriously. But you never know what may happen.” It turned out the only people who looked to be in harm’s way were on the fight card — 15 mixed martial arts fighters, four boxers and one kickboxer. That includedtwo women, one a mother of two. Bec Rawlings elicited loud and slightly lusty cheers as she brawled with Alma Garcia before winning on a second-round technical knockout. The cheers grew even louder when a heavyweight bout between Joey Beltran and Tony Lopez turned into a blood bath. And Sam Shewmaker, another heavyweight, sent the audience into a frenzy with his only punch — an overhand right that dropped burly Eric Prindle just 18 seconds into the fight. It was a glimpse into a sport looking to burst onto the mainstream and emerge from a shadowy operation. Underground since 1889 Official boxing records show Bobby Gunn has fought 32 times, won a cruiserweight title and faced off against Roy Jones Jr. and James Toney before losing to those former heavyweight champions. But the records say nothing about what has made Gunn a driving force behind what happened in Cheyenne. The bare-knuckle fights that all but disappeared from public view in the USA after 1889 simply moved underground, according to Gunn, who sported an unofficial record of 71-0 before the festivities moved into a legitimate venue Saturday. Empty warehouses, auto body repair shops and basements have served as venues for organized bare-knuckle fights, Gunn said. Video found online shows Gunn knocking out Jay-Z bodyguard Ernest Jackson — at an undisclosed site, of course. “One time I fought and literally one wall separated me from a grocery store,” Gunn told USA TODAY. “And here’s people in line buying cereal and meat, oblivious to the world what’s going on behind that wall next door. “It happens all the time throughout America. It’s been here before I was born, it’ll be here when I’m dead and gone. But I’m hoping that the sanctioned, legalized sport will take these young fighters and give them a platform to get paid professionally and not have to hide in the shadows anymore.” Gunn disputed the notion that the sport is barbaric. “These are not barroom brawls,” Gunn said. “These are not street fights. A bare-knuckle boxing fight, that’s arranged (as) two men coming to compete for money or it could be for pride or reputation.” Years ago, Gunn shared all of this with Feldman, 47, the son of a legendary boxing trainer. Intoxicated by the possibilities, Feldman took on what he soon considered the fight of his life — to bring bare-knuckled boxing into the mainstream, and to potential pay-per-view customers. While Feldman can talk at length about the charms and technicalities of bare-knuckled boxing, he also says, “This is for the guys that really want to fight, the guys that have fight in their system and in their blood. It’s all about the fight.”<doc-sep>"I’m the boss I’m the boss I’m the boss,” says Bobby Gunn, the defending champion of bare-knuckle boxing, repeating a mantra from the film Raging Bull to himself just moments before taking the stage for the first legal, state-sanctioned gloveless fighting event in U.S. history. “Come on big fucker—let’s go.” Walking out to Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” in front of a screaming sold-out crowd of 2,000 beer-drinking, cowboy-hat-wearing locals at the Cheyenne Ice and Events Center on the outskirts of Cheyenne, Wyoming, Gunn, 44, takes the stage, squaring off against his younger and larger opponent, Irineu Beato Costa, Jr., a. heavyweight boxer from Sau Paulo, Brazil. Standing just feet apart, Gunn and Costa raise their fists in a blood-stained steel circular ring built for this event, a striking image in U.S. sports history: no boxing gloves. “Knuckle up!” one of the two referees yells. Gunn, long used to fighting bare knuckle in underground illegal brawls with no time limits, is now forced to take a more aggressive approach in the event’s fast-paced two-minute rounds. Charging Costa, he throws a penetrating left hook to the liver, dropping him within seconds. After Costa manages a wobbly rise, Gunn then rushes him again, this time going for the kill—another deep shot to the liver topped by a final overhand right hook to the temple as he falls. The crowd roars. Costa lies crumpled on the ring. The fight is over. In only 41 seconds, Gunn has proven why he is the champion of this sport, demolishing his opponent with the precision of a surgeon, the victory and body shots so quick the internet will later wonder how he did it. But for Gunn, it’s just another victory to add to his lifetime 72-0 record in bare knuckle, only this time with a crucial twist—he won in a legal arena in front of a pay-per-view audience around the world. “I thought this would get legalized,” Gunn says, smiling, the cameras flashing. “Just not in my lifetime.” “Come on big fucker—let’s go.” After decades of fighting in underground illegal bare-knuckle brawls from alleyways to empty warehouses across the U.S., Gunn has finally achieved a victory he never expected—defending his title in the first legal, state-sanctioned bare-knuckle fight in U.S. history. On Saturday night in an ice and roller-skating arena adorned with advertisements for construction companies and giant American flags, Gunn and 19 other fighters from pro boxing, MMA, and street brawling entered the ring to resurrect one of America’s oldest sports. The ten-card event featured a mix of up-and-coming contenders like former UFC star Bec Rawlings along with aging pros like former UFC heavyweight Ricco Rodriguez, everyone fighting in five, two-minute rounds while wearing nothing on their hands but wrapping about an inch below the knuckles. Jacob Byk/Wyoming Tribune Eagle AP Legalized for the first time in U.S. history by the Wyoming State Board of Mixed Martial Arts in March, bare-knuckle fighting features rules similar to pro boxing—punching only, a standard eight-count, a three-knockdown rule—but with a crucial twist: no gloves allowed. The skin on skin contact makes for a bloody spectacle. But, also, according to rising research, it likely results in a surprising benefit—fewer concussions. “In MMA, I can grab your head and ram it against my knee,” says promoter David Feldman, a former boxer who has worked for seven years to legalize bare knuckle, getting rejected by 28 states before Wyoming finally agreed to sanction it. “How is that legal and bare knuckle isn’t? With bare knuckle, there is a perception of it being a more dangerous sport—but it’s actually safer.” Going into the bare-knuckle event on Saturday night, no one really knew what would happen—the sport had not made headlines in the U.S. in over 120 years. Once one of the most popular pastimes in the U.S., bare-knuckle boxing was practiced by immigrants competing in makeshift arenas in cities like New York and Boston in the 19th century, the sport’s greatest champion, John L. Sullivan, rising from his job as a plumber to become an international star, visiting the White House at the request of Theodore Roosevelt. John L. Sullivan, left, fights in a bare-knuckle bout in 1900. Getty Images But even Sullivan’s greatest bare-knuckle match—a $20,000 bout near New Orleans in 1889—was illegal, the gloveless sport covered by press but never sanctioned by a state due to its perceived brutality. In 1892, when the U.S. legalized gloved boxing as a less bloody and seemingly more civilized form of combat—the gloves resulting in less precise hits and fewer cuts—bare knuckle disappeared from the spotlight entirely. The sport, however, never really went away. Practiced for cash in underground illegal arenas from after-hours gyms to abandoned buildings, bare knuckle has recently grown into more mainstream popularity as a possibly safer alternative to boxing. Similar to the difference between rugby and NFL football, bare-knuckle fighters hit each other with less force to keep from breaking their hands—the self-governing aspect of the sport resulting in superficial skin-on-skin cuts but seemingly fewer concussions. “We’ve done blunt-force trauma impact studies and concussion studies,” Feldman says. “This makes sense.” Bobby Gunn Getty Images In 2008, the comeback of bare knuckle began when Gunn fought for Feldman on a pro boxing match in Arizona. Introduced to the illegal sport by Gunn—a veteran underground bare-knuckle brawler in addition to being a pro boxer—Feldman saw business potential. In 2011, he featured Gunn in a bare-knuckle boxing event sanctioned by the Yavapai Tribe at the Fort McDowell Casino in Arizona, the event held on Native American land outside of the jurisdiction of state lawmakers. Bobby Gunn and Dreyton Jackson during an underground bare-knuckle fight on September 12 somewhere on the East Coast of the United States. Getty Images The bare-knuckle fight was expected to draw around 50,000 viewers on livestream pay-per-view, making around $500,000. Instead, it attracted so many online requests they crashed the system, leaving Feldman and the victorious Gunn with no money but a glimpse of the sport’s potential.<doc-sep>
AP CHEYENNE, Wyo. (AP) — The first ever state-sanctioned bare-knuckle boxing match got a bloody ending Saturday night — and a big response from a raucous crowd. Arnold Adams, a 32-year-old MMA heavyweight, pounded ex-UFC fighter D.J. Linderman's face into a bloody mess in front of 2,000 rowdy fans at a hockey rink that usually hosts birthday parties and skating lessons in Wyoming's capital. Tens of thousands more tuned in for the pay-per-view event, which featured 10 bouts, including four heavyweight fights in a tournament format. Fans were lined up outside the Cheyenne Ice and Events Center more than an hour before the first major bare-knuckle event in the U.S. since 1889. Forrest Peters, from Cheyenne, was among those in attendance. He came to cheer Estevan Payan — who served in the same Army unit as Peters — and to witness history. "With the bare-knuckle fighting and everything, having them bring it back for the first time in over 100 years, you knew it's pretty exciting to see," Peters said, "and especially having it here in Cheyenne, kinda out here where the West is still a little wild." Payan, of Tempe, Arizona, didn't disappoint, flooring Omar Avelar at 1:57 of the opening round of a 145-pound match. The quickest knockout occurred when Sam Shewmaker used one punch, an overhand right, to send Eric Prindle to the canvas 18 seconds into their heavyweight bout. "It felt like hitting a home run," said Shewmaker, a fourth-generation stone mason from the tiny central Missouri town of Gravois Mills. "I didn't think I would be able to catch him that early, but luckily I did." Shewmaker has been an amateur boxer for years, and when he heard about the Wyoming event, he tried out and earned a chance to compete. "I never dreamed that it would be legal to be able to do this," he said. "I've been in plenty of illegal bare-knuckle fights. I mean growing up where I did, in the area I did, it's kinda rough, but people are gentlemen about it, too. You can fight, you get up, you're done, you shake hands and you go get a beer." Bec Rawlings, a 29-year-old from Brisbane, Australia, won the only bout of the night featuring women, stopping Alma Garcia with a TKO in the second round. Rawlings noticed little difference from fighting with gloves. "It felt the same to get punched as in an MMA fight, which is what my background is," she said. "The difference was my knuckles more — when I punched her, I felt it a little bit more. Other than that, it was really nice just to let go and showcase my boxing skill and not worry about a takedown or a kick. "It felt like the rawest form of combat sports to just go out there and throw your hands and let loose." Tony Lopez lost the most entertaining fight of the night, a five-rounder against fellow Californian Joey Beltran. The crowd was on its feet and roaring as the two heavyweights traded punches and slugged it out to the end, with both men bruised, cut up and bloodied. "The knuckles was nothing," the 44-year-old Lopez said. "... I've always wanted to fight with no gloves. Got a chance to do it here." Beltran and Shewmaker joined Ricco Rodriguez and Maurice Jackson in the semifinals of the heavyweight division tournament, which will be held in September, also in Cheyenne. Heralded underground bare-knuckle heavyweight Bobby Gunn also fought, knocking out Irineu Beato Costa Jr. in 41 seconds. Cheyenne resident Bryan Pedersen, an MMA fighter and former state lawmaker, successfully sponsored a bill in 2012 to create a state board of mixed martial arts — the first state to do so. While MMA was thriving, bare-knuckle competition wasn't even considered when the law was passed. However, Wyoming jumped at the chance to host Bare Knuckle Fight Championships action after 28 other states passed. The International Boxing Hall of Fame said the last significant bare-knuckle bout was July 8, 1889, when John L. Sullivan went 75 rounds to beat Jake Kilrain. Even that event was illegal and had to be staged under the cover of secrecy as most states had outlawed the non-gloved version of boxing. Fighting was forced underground until 2011, when the Yavapai Nation sanctioned a match that Gunn won over Richard Stewart at the tribe's reservation in Arizona.