By Josh Samman

UFC Middleweight Josh Samman takes us to Milan, Italy, for his latest installment of the Prizefighting Chronicles. In this edition, we wrap up Venator FC, where many past and future UFC vets take the stage.

"Hey Josh, Doc says I shouldn't lift anything too heavy. Give me a hand?"

I am in Italy, in a bathroom stall next to one of England’s only UFC vets, John Maguire. It is the first day I’ve met him and he is already cracking dick jokes. He is full of them, a walking encyclopedia of phallic puns. He exits the stall sporting a colorful tank top with big block letters that reads: “‘SUP LADIES?”

He tells me he has an endless amount of tanks, of differing styles, that he has gathered along his trips. He is a self-proclaimed gypsy, a traveler of a specific sort. I ask him if the movie Snatch is accurate. He cocks an eyebrow at me as if he’s offended, then cracks a smile.

I can tell it is going to be an interesting week.

Maguire has been with Luke since the Big Slow first walked into an MMA gym, and Barnatt attributes much of his success to him. Maguire has traveled to help corner Luke, and together he and I are headed to Venator FC’s open workouts in Milan. We are accompanied by Santeri Lillius, BJJ coach and business partner of Barnatt, and we’re on foot to a gym named Bono’s. It is presumably named after the academy’s owner and we make stupid U2 jokes the entire way there.

Luke has already arrived and is on the mat with his kickboxing coach, hammering away.



A quick inventory around the room reveals no sight of Luke’s opponent, Jason “Mayhem” Miller. After weeks of speculation as to whether he’d even be able to leave the United States, we’d gotten word that Miller was indeed in Italy.

Still, we shared a sense that Miller wouldn't be real until he stood right in front of us. 

The man on the mat with Luke is a Moroccan man named Rafi Zouheir, a Muay Thai virtuoso. Rafi has relocated to Spain to teach kickboxing to the locals, including some of the ones at Luke’s gym in Malaga. He is the oldest of our group, and is the most cultured by far. He speaks five languages and is friendly and wise. He makes for a great translator.

Off the mats, the room is lined with reporters and photographers. Matt Hamill finishes up his own workouts and takes pictures with fans. He’ll be fighting Sokoudjou, who is nowhere to be seen. The main attraction, Rousimar Palhares, is not there. His opponent, Emil Meek, is accompanied by a giant axe that he may or may not carry everywhere he goes.

Next to him in a slick gray Italian suit, Venator FC promoter Frank Miranda observes, and does some translating of his own. He seems normal so far, and the turnout for workouts is impressive.

There is a good energy in the room, but it goes to a new level when Mayhem makes his presence known. He is accompanied by Matt Horwich and a smaller fellow I only recognize from Mayhem’s videos. Photographers snap away at his red mohawk as he walks towards the mat where Luke and Rafi are still smacking pads. He feigns a look of being impressed, and calls his minion over to lay on his back near them. He begins circling the short man as the latter holds one mitt in front of his face, and Mayhem smacks it once upon every rotation.

It’s all pretty bizarre. But we’ve been preparing ourselves for worse, and it ends up being fairly mild. After a few minutes of shenanigans, he walks over to Luke, shakes his hand, and tries his best in Italian to thank the fans and the press.



The promotion’s fighters are done working out, and the gym mats empty. I’m anxious to train, as the UFC just released an ad for UFC Sioux Falls and it dawns on me once again that I’ll be in front of 10,000 fans in eight weeks.

This is what training camp is to me: a series of gradual realizations that in a specific amount of time, there’s going to be a grown man trying to smash my face on public television. I frequently suffer from anxiety over whether I’ve done enough. In reality, I’ve always done enough. In most cases, I’ve done too much.

Rafi gives me a few rounds of work as some of the lingering photographers stick around to watch. I walk back to the hotel feeling relieved, in better shape than I thought. I shower and head downstairs, where I find Luke in the restaurant, being interviewed by MMA Junkie’s John Morgan. The site is streaming the show free in the US, while the local broadcast in Italy is being aired by FOX. Joining John on the English commentary team is fellow UFC Sioux Falls combatant Michael Chiesa. Luke tells me they were arranging to have Phil Davis commentate, but Bellator nixed it.

Across the room, Jack Hermansson and coaches enjoy lunch. At a table to the left of us, Cody McKenzie and company eat, and drink. Cody talks about how weight lifting is not for martial artists. He has a bottle of wine in front of him, and he explains to his girlfriend and cornermen how it doesn’t affect him, as long as he drinks water too. He chugs down half a glass after his declaration.

The environment is certainly a unique one, and Morgan comments on how it feels “old school.” There is more interaction between opposing fighters and coaches, which is enhanced by the small hotel, and the absence of fans crowding the lobby like at big Vegas hotels.

Before long, Luke will be weighing in for his first Venator middleweight title defense. Most of the hard work is done, save a couple Epsom salt baths and a sauna session. While in the heat box, we run back into McKenzie. I ask him who he is fighting, and he tells me he doesn’t know. I can’t tell if he’s bluffing. He tells me his next fight is already scheduled, against Joe Riggs. He tells me he set it up himself by calling Joe Riggs’ manager and asking him if he wants Joe to fight him.

He proves to be the most interesting character in Milan so far.



We finish up Luke’s weight cut and stick around the bottom floor of the hotel until the place fills up with media. Foreign tongues of all kind pack the room. The melting pot is accentuated with a combination of Venator staff and what look to be bodyguards. The staff all have nicely tailored suits, while the muscle has face and neck tattoos.

The whole week folks have told us that they thought Mayhem would be weighing heavy. We discussed beforehand what our options were, and it’s revealed that contractually Venator has secured a replacement opponent for Luke should Mayhem not make middleweight. Miller doesn’t seem to be too heavy, although Rafi’s angry eyes tell us otherwise as he watches Miller step on the scale. At just under 210 pounds, Mayhem doesn’t even make light heavyweight. He doesn’t even try.

Venator attempts to save the fight, which would require Luke rehydrating to above 185 pounds before weighing in again, while Mayhem would have to actually sweat.

It would be considered a non-title light heavyweight fight. Venator offers some dough on top of 30% of Mayhem’s purse. Rafi is the man in charge of negotiations, and he is not having it. He tells Venator no fight, and we discuss other opponents for Luke.

On tap they had saved one Mattia Schiavolin, who Luke won the middleweight title from just months ago. Mattia says he doesn’t want to fight Luke again, and offers to fight Mayhem instead. Mattia’s original opponent, Stefan Croitoru, agrees to fight Luke for the belt on less than 24 hours notice. Mattia gets to fight a big name, Stefan gets a title shot, Luke and Mayhem both still get to fight. It doesn’t turn out so bad after all.

Everyone leaves weigh-ins happy, and Luke’s wife Lucy arrives in town just in time for dinner.

Frank invites us to an Italian spot he reserved earlier in the week. There are 12 or so of us, and I finally get a chance to pick his brain. We’ve had a few interactions earlier in the week, but nothing to get a good read on him. He comes off as a guy who loves the sport, and wealthy enough to be flippant with detractors on the internet.  He has a vision for Venator’s future, he tells me, and would like to bring the show to Brazil or the US within the next year.

Before any of that happens they must successfully complete Venator III, and that time has come.



Fight day always arrives fast. I wake up the next morning feeling as if I am fighting, too. Such is the nature of being so close and having tasted it.

There’s a sense of vicariousness when watching friends fights, but it rings more to the core when I think about what it feels like in there. Still, I can’t pretend there isn’t a bit of disappointment that it’s not Mayhem’s head on a platter for Luke. The spectacle is gone.

We arrive at the venue and snag a corner of an old locker room. The fights have been on for hours now, and the crowd upstairs roars every few minutes. We are partially underground, with an indoor hockey rink right next to us. It is not a bad venue, but it is not the MGM Grand, either. The giant ice is so close that I can feel it on my skin. It’s times like these that give me perspective and remind me how many guys all over the world are scratching and clawing their way to the top.

Right next to us, Palhares is picking up his opponent over his head in between thundering uppercuts and hooks. It’s kind of a bizarre warm-up, but I assume he knows what he’s doing. Or perhaps he is just Palhares-ing.

Mayhem prepares up for his fight with his new opponent. We find a mat to roll on, and Luke’s warm-up begins.

In and out the fighters go, to and from the cage. The person that comes back is never the same person that walked out. Those minutes in the cage can change your life. We see it in real time.

Miller and his team pray before the fight. It is not long before he returns, defeated. He is not the same person who walked out.

Horwich and the minion give him some consolation, then space. He hangs his head in the corner, alone. For a moment, he’s no longer Mayhem. He’s Jason Miller. After four years away from the sport, he is remembering what defeat feels like. The minion hands him a room temperature whiskey and remarks about how it would have been $12 instead of $4 if they were in Orange County.

Yesterday I wanted to kill the guy. Today, I just feel badly for him.

An Italian fellow comes and tells us it’s time for Luke’s walk to the cage. The arena is full by this point. Within minutes, Luke is inside the cage, doing what we came to do. The bout itself is a formality. A few knees, a decent head kick, some body shots, and the end is near. Stefan puts up a decent fight but succumbs to strikes in the second round. Frank straps the belt around Luke’s waist. The corners all pass it around for a few minutes. We are pleased with ourselves.



We return shortly to the arena to sit and watch the main event. We expect to see Meek’s last few steps before Palhares reduces him to using crutches for the next several months.

The bell rings and Palhares shoots. Meek stuffs it and proceeds to elbow Palhares’ brain stem into mush. The fight is over. Palhares has been defeated. Meek’s corner and dozens of others rush in the cage, all wearing “Valhalla Army” hockey jerseys. Meek screams something into the mic about how “f*****g great” he is. We sit in awe for a bit, before rounding up the group to return to the hotel.

Back at the room, Luke is happy. I am happy for him. He wonders aloud what the acceptable time for carrying around a title belt is. We return downstairs to a round of applause at his entrance, as all the fighters, coaches, and Venator staff feast on a buffet inside the small hotel restaurant. Everyone drinks and celebrates, and the mood is festive even for those who lost. Frank and the matchmaker are beaming with pride.

It turns out Venator was not a circus. It was a chance to show Milan, Italy, MMA talent like it’s never seen. It made new fans and helped grow MMA in the community. Most importantly, it was an opportunity for fighters on their way up or down the ladder to still compete. New names gain notoriety by beating old ones. Veterans cashed in on may be their last few big checks. 

At the end of the day, that is the important thing: the checks cashing. After all, this is prizefighting.

Josh Samman is a UFC middleweight, the author of The Housekeeper: Love, Death, and Prizefighting, and owner of Combat Night MMA.