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Frank Mir insists only "stupid" people would argue against the fact that he is the best heavyweight in UFC history, and he mocked Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira's claim that the American's ground game is "simple". More »

The flyweights debuted in the UFC in February, though the concept of high-octane little dudes had existed for a long time. Long before then, Tachi Palace Fights was the North American home to 125 pounders, and it always felt like the Central California town of Lemoore was in on a secret. Not anymore.

As for the heavyweights?

That’s the dinosaur division in the UFC. It goes back to MMA’s prehistoric times. It’s gone through periods, times of near dormancy. In the beginning, a heavyweight of 500 pounds was allowed entrance into the eight-sided cage, and he’d take on Gi-donning fighters the size of thimbles. In those days, there were talks of moats that thankfully never came to be.

In the middle times, when weight classes were better designated, a guy barely over the minimum weight of 206 pounds became king. Twelve pounds of it were heart, the same weight as the belt.

This was known as the Couture Era. It was revisited, but always short-lived.

Then came Brock Lesnar and the rift of perceptions. He was a circus, a bull, a collegiate wrestler, a bona-fide martial artist, a charlatan, a mercenary, a hermit and a comic book character with a sworded thorax all into one. He couldn’t take a punch; he had more heart than we knew. He was a novelty; he is a future hall of famer.

We still have no idea how to assess him.

That’s part of the reason that, as we arrive at UFC 146, there’s a feeling of something inaugural going on even though the division has always been. Something like the "Modern Era" of the UFC heavies is finally upon us.

This is the era of Junior dos Santos and his level-changing boxing quicks and heavy hands, and Cain Velasquez and his legit wrestling. This is Antonio Silva, and the resilient Frank Mir. It’s Alistair Overeem, so long as Lorenzo Fertitta stands behind him when his suspension is up. It’s Lavar Johnson and Stipe Miocic and beanstalk fighters like Stefan Struve and returning fighters like Shane Carwin.

It’s a lot of guys, rather than a few. And for once we are about to have a consolidated idea of where the heavyweight division stands. The division has gotten so hot that Chad Griggs had to get out of the kitchen. Soon Daniel Cormier and Josh Barnett will enter the mix. Jon Jones will be there before we know it, but right now the division has newfound depth. And it’s deep enough that when MMA Fighting’s Ariel Helwani asked Dana White about Cormier’s future, White replied that he wouldn’t mind seeing Cormier as a light heavyweight.

When the Strikeforce heavyweight grand prix champion looks like a spare piece to the company president, you know the division has arrived.

Saturday night’s fight card is historic in that way. Gone are the days of Andrei Arlovski and Tim Sylvia and a deck of middling hopefuls. Depending on how things play out in Las Vegas, the next title fight could be anything. It could be Velasquez/dos Santos II. It could be Mir/Velasquez, the fight that was supposed to happen anyway. It could be Bigfoot/JDS, or Cormier/JDS, or Mir/Cormier. This is the first time ever that not just one scenario makes sense, but they all do. Better yet, people would be excited to see any of those match-ups. In other words, UFC 146 in all its historical significance is hardly the culminating point.

For once, there is a broad horizon. This feels more like the beginning than the usual pitch. For once, heavyweights have something in common with the lightweights and the welterweights. The 265-pound division has the feeling of an ongoing story playing out, rather than one wrapping up.

The novelty isn’t an ageless wonder like Couture beating guys half his age and size, or a pro wrestler turned fighter who froths at the mouth and tramples people like it’s the running of the bulls. The novelty is that the division has the funny feeling of something complete.

And that can’t help but be anything other than exciting for fans of big boy MMA.

Junior dos Santos has told Frank Mir that he is too slow to win the UFC heavyweight title, and the Brazilian warned the rest of the division that nobody is taking his belt for the foreseeable future. More »

Frank Mir claims his capacity to stand with out-and-out strikers has been vastly overlooked heading into his UFC 146 heavyweight title bout with Junior Dos Santos. More »

Frank Mir has turned up the heat on Junior Dos Santos ahead of their UFC 146 main event, insisting the heavyweight champion has "no chance" of winning if the fight hits the mat. More »

As one might expect, Frank Mir found it incredibly difficult to prepare for Cain Velasquez when circumstances -- and every story he read on the Internet -- said he’d be fighting Junior dos Santos.

The UFC announced over the weekend Mir would replace Alistair Overeem in next month’s heavyweight title fight against dos Santos in Las Vegas. Overeem, who is scheduled to appear in front of the Nevada State Athletic Commission on Tuesday, failed a random drug test in Las Vegas late last month.

Technically, Overeem hasn’t failed to receive a license from the commission yet, meaning there was an outside chance he’d still be available on May 26. That meant until the UFC’s announcement, Mir had been in limbo on whether he’d fight dos Santos or his originally scheduled opponent, Cain Velasquez.

Realistically, he admitted, his thoughts had more or less settled on the title fight.

“I would be lying if I said it didn’t pull me away from my preparations for Velasquez,” Mir told ESPN.com. “The fact it came through was a good thing, because I already had one eye on dos Santos.”

In the early parts of camp, Mir was going home and watching Internet videos of college wrestling matches, according to his head trainer, Jimmy Gifford. Once the Overeem news was announced, those late-night film sessions mysteriously switched to videos of boxing classics.

“He came in saying, ‘Yeah, I watched Joe Louis fights last night,’” Gifford said. “I told him, 'I thought you were watching wrestling.'

“I’m actually happy the fight got changed. We were like everyone else -- reading the Internet, saying this guy tested positive; what’s up? He was already pretty checked out.”

The best stabilizing force in the camp, according to Mir, was his father. He wouldn’t argue the fact it looked as though his son was headed to a title fight, but still found a fairly creative yet effective way to keep the focus on Velasquez.

“My father said, ‘Even if they give us dos Santos, what if he gets hurt?’” Mir said. “Oh, they’ll put me back in with Cain. OK. We’ll prepare for Cain.”

One month out, the focus has officially turned to dos Santos, and it’s a fight Mir and his camp are confident in despite the shortened camp.

A positive for the former champ is that although he was preparing for a three-round fight instead of five, the fact that Velasquez fights at a “middleweight’s pace,” borrowing a phrase from Gifford, forced Mir into the best physical shape of his career.

“In all honesty, I think three rounds with Cain is as vicious as five with anyone else,” Mir said. “As far as what he brings to a fight, Cain is a lawnmower. He keeps moving forward. He threw 300 punches in the Cheick Kongo fight. I don’t think some welterweights can match that. So I am in better shape cardio-wise now than I have been at any point in my life.”

While Mir’s team prepares for a title fight, Overeem released a statement Monday that the positive drug test resulted from an “anti-inflammatory medication that was mixed with testosterone,” prescribed to him by his doctor for a rib injury.

Overeem stated he was unaware the substance contained testosterone, which led to his elevated levels.

When asked if that’s an issue he’s ever dealt with in his 11-year career, Mir said he’s made it a point to inform the promotion he’s fighting for exactly what substances he’s on to avoid similar issues.

“Anytime a doctor tells me to take something, I’m immediately telling the UFC,” Mir said. “They have doctors on staff. So, I say, ‘Hey, I have an injury. This is what I’m going to do.’ I’m just very transparent with everything I do. That way, I feel if my doctor gives me something, if I have everyone on board and tell everyone what’s going on, it can be immediately addressed.”

In the “who’s out there to challenge Jon Jones” discussion, Alexander Gustafsson is the light heavyweight intrigue right now. He is the horizon, the challenge looming at the end of the Mayan calendar for the current champion. Should he lose to Thiago Silva this weekend in his native Sweden in the biggest fight of his young career, intrigue becomes pretty scarce in what has traditionally been the UFC’s glamour division.

So what happened to the well depth at 205 pounds?

Jones happened. Jones happened so fast and Jones pummeled so furious that people are already talking about what he can do to as a heavyweight. Everybody knows that imagination is always first to round the curve, but in this case it feels like meteorological forecasting. Jones is a storm front. In fact, he himself says his days at 205 pounds are numbered, because those skinny legs that earned him the nickname “Bones” will eventually fill in.

And all of this is conversational because Jones has yet to meet his equivalent in a weight class that had for so long been defined by parity. He’s already defended the belt more than anybody since Chuck Liddell’s run from 2005-2007. Since then Quinton Jackson, Forrest Griffin, Rashad Evans, Lyoto Machida -- remember the Machida Era? -- and Mauricio Rua have tried on the belt, couldn’t handle its weight, and ceded it. They’ve all become afterthoughts to Jones’ run -- except for Griffin (who no longer looks like an imposition) and Evans (whom he faces in Atlanta on April 21).

None of the above has made it even so far as the judge’s scorecards.

If Jones defeats Evans at UFC 145, he will still have to get by Dan Henderson, who has been patiently waiting in line since November. After Henderson? As much of a stretch as it seems, it’s Gustafsson. That is, if Gustafsson continues to win. If Silva triumphs in Stockholm over its native son, it could be the heavyweight division sooner rather than later for Jones.

In other words, it’s possible that Jones will have cleaned out the division by summer of 2012. Nobody cleans out divisions nowadays -- nobody. And you know the power of his star is immense when there’s nothing far-fetched in any of this, except for the usual cautions that come with taking anything for granted. For as dominant as Jones is, this sport was not founded on foregone conclusions. If there is a wrench, it looks like this: Jones beats Jones. This is what Greg Jackson and the entire Albuquerque crew are guarding against as much as they are Evans’ takedown ability.

But the next two weeks could clue us in a little bit on Jon Jones’ (extrapolated) future. If Gustafsson holds court, he will have effectively graduated to title talk, which is big in a division of expiring names. Gustafsson might still have to win one more in pursuit of the 205-pound title, but he’d at least appear as viable. In the game of marketable matchmaking, appearances might have to do.

Would Silva look as viable? It’s possible. But right now Silva’s biggest wins are against guys that looked far more imposing before he fought them than after. Guys like Houston Alexander, Keith Jardine and Brandon Vera (which was overturned to a "no contest" due to steroids). Silva is set further back than Gustafsson. Even if he beat the Swede he’d have a harder time convincing the masses that he’s the fork in Jones’ road.

The bottom line is this: If the two favorites in the next two UFC main events win, that means a collision course is setting up. If Jones wins and Gustafsson doesn’t? It’s one last defense with Dan Henderson, and then a lot of talk about how Jones will match up with the likes of Junior dos Santos, Frank Mir and Cain Velasquez.

Dana White’s twitter account says Frank Mir will still be fighting Cain Velasquez on May 26. Just about everything else, though, suggests otherwise.

In a response to a fan on the social networking site Friday, the UFC president wrote, “Cain vs. Mir will happen,” referencing the UFC 146 co-main event scheduled for next month.

Many interpreted White’s statement as the end of speculation that Mir would be the one to replace Alistair Overeem in the night’s main event, should he fail to receive a license from the commission after recently failing a random drug test in Las Vegas.

As much fun as it’s been for fans to rally behind Mark Hunt or fantasize about the sight of a certain Russian in the Octagon, once May 26 rolls around, chances are we’ll be right back where the speculation started -- meaning, with Mir.

Am I calling White a liar? Not exactly. What, then, did that tweet mean exactly?

Remember for a second how White found out that Overeem, a man who’s faced accusations of steroid use in the past and was barely licensed for his UFC debut against Brock Lesnar, tested hot.

It was right before he was scheduled to hop on a conference call with members of the Canadian media. So, you’ve got the UFC president finding out one of his major summer fights is in jeopardy moments before entering a setting where anything he says becomes very public.

The situation led to a few very candid responses from White on how he felt about the news. He was admittedly “beyond p---ed.” He implied Overeem to be “an absolute moron,” and even hinted the promotion might cut him.

Nothing wrong with those statements -- except that Overeem isn’t quite cooked yet. The UFC is committed to seeing what happens when he applies for a license on April 24 before it moves on.

Even though the likelihood of Overeem getting a license is downright awful, it certainly doesn’t help his small chances if the president of the promotion basically acknowledges his guilt before the hearing.

Clearly, White is not in the wrong for saying what he did. Seems like a rather large majority agrees with him. It does the UFC no good, though, at this time. Watch. It’s unlikely White, or any other UFC spokesman, says anything negative regarding Overeem until after the hearing.

So, it’s possible that by saying, “No, the most obvious choice to replace Overeem -- Mir -- isn’t being considered,” is actually an attempt to say, “Well, hopefully no replacement will be necessary at all.”

The reason everyone pegged Mir as Plan B is because he’s the only viable option -- from a competitive standpoint, marketing standpoint, common sense standpoint.

Until the UFC announces “Dos Santos vs. Mir,” nothing is certain. If you’re Mir, of course, continue training with Velasquez in mind -- but don’t be afraid to schedule a boxing session, too. Just in case.

Alistair Overeem hasn't spoken publicly since news broke Wednesday that he tested positive for an increased testosterone-to-epitestosterone ratio. He probably doesn't have to for Josh Barnett to understand what the 31-year-old Dutch heavyweight is feeling right now.

Barnett, of course, paid a heavy price when he failed a prefight drug test in California almost three years ago. Lost was a huge payday against Fedor Emelianenko, then ranked No. 1 in the division and widely considered among the best competitors in mixed martial arts. The loss of the fight was also the impetus for Affliction Entertainment going under, a situation that rattled the business, fostered the growth and subsequent decline of Strikeforce, and eventually led to Zuffa's move to consolidate the industry.

It's unclear what penalties Overeem will suffer, but similar to Barnett (32-5) he could easily surrender a huge payday as well as the most important fight of his career -- a UFC title tilt against Junior dos Santos. Hey, at least he doesn't have to worry about bringing down a promotion, though he might not be around to partake in UFC's continuing prosperity.

Still, with dark clouds currently hanging over his head, Overeem should take solace in the notion of Barnett's return the UFC for the first time in a decade -- the message being: No matter how badly someone messes up, Zuffa is prone to forgive under the right circumstances.

Barnett's new lease on a UFC life is incumbent on defeating Daniel Cormier on May 19 to cap off the Strikeforce heavyweight grand prix tournament. If that happens, UFC president Dana White has suggested that the 34-year-old American could enter the Octagon for the first time since stopping Randy Couture in 2002 to claim the promotional title.

How would he fare against the men ranked above him (which for the time being continues to include Overeem)?

Frank Mir

At stake would be the title of best submission grappler in the heavyweight division. Mir, 32, may have usurped that title by breaking off a piece of Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira, and you know Barnett would love the opportunity to make a point against the former UFC heavyweight champion.

On the floor it's essentially an even fight, though Barnett is much better when he fights from the top. Mir's strength comes in attacking arms. Barnett can do that too; he just prefers the leg techniques born out of catch-wrestling. I can't help but think a grappling-heavy fight between the two would be incredibly appealing.

Both have shown the ability to hurt opponents while standing, but Mir (16-5) owns a slight edge here based on recent results.

If they fought 10 times ... they'd split.

Cain Velasquez

Barnett would carry a significant experience advantage over Velasquez (9-1) and he wouldn't get pushed around by a mid-sized heavyweight.

Barnett utilizes his size and athleticism to squash other grapplers, and if Velasquez winds up on his back he may not stand up or get a reversal. You do not want to face a situation where Barnett establishes top control. He is much more dangerous from the top than Brock Lesnar ever was because he'll string together submissions, is very adept at guard-passing, and is happy to grind away at someone's facial features with his elbows.

Barnett cedes ground in this matchup when it comes to speed, striking technique, and pure wrestling. Velasquez, 29, would have to keep moving against Barnett, never let the bigger man tie him up in the clinch, especially along the fence, and stay off bottom. That's obviously the key.

If they fought 10 times ... Velasquez wins 6 of 10.

Alistair Overeem

Filling a column full of "ifs," Overeem's status remains the largest. So in this scenario, the reprieve Barnett could receive from Dana White extends to Overeem.

Now to the matchup. Overeem is a different class of striker, and while Barnett might be tempted to engage the Dutch fighter's strength it would be a mistake. Getting Overeem (36-11) to the floor isn't easy. Toying around in the clinch, which Barnett does not mind doing, might result in a rocket of a knee puncturing his midsection. Barnett does not react well to body shots, as proven by Mirko "Cro Cop" Filipovic, so that could be a major factor.

Barnett has to put the fight on the floor and push the pace against Overeem, whose stamina can be a question mark.

This is a violent matchup, one that surely wouldn't last the distance.

If they fought 10 times ... Barnett wins 6 of 10.

Junior dos Santos

The current UFC heavyweight champion is all about speed, movement and anvil-like punches. He's as tall as Barnett with about 25 less pounds to move around.

Barnett would lose if he stood with dos Santos, simple as that. The question is, can he take the 27-year-old Brazilian champion down without absorbing too much damage?

Barnett would be best served by roughing up dos Santos (14-1) against the fence, fighting for takedowns (just not from the outside so dos Santos can counter with knees or sprawl on the American's head), and establishing top control. Presuming he can do those things, he can win. Otherwise chances are good he'd be rendered unconscious.

If they fought 10 times ... dos Santos wins 7 of 10.

Another day, another hot urine test, another busted main event ... and, alas, another (potential) domino sequence. So continues life in the mixed martial arts.

This time it’s Alistair Overeem who raised the red flag, the very same Overeem who eluded such conflict ahead of UFC 141 by simply skipping a mandatory drug test. If nothing else, this is a man who knows how to poke at the chest of scrutiny. Overeem showed up March 27 for the UFC 146 hype conference in Las Vegas apparently unaware that this could be a perfect moment for the Nevada State Athletic Commission to spring a “random” test on him (part of the deal from the Brock Lesnar fight fallout). Out of six heavyweights tested, only Overeem’s came back positive. His testesterone/epitestosterone registered a 14:1 ratio, more than double the particularly generous threshold in Nevada of 6:1.

So much for the biggest fight of his career. And all that promotional material the UFC was creating, the big pay day, the belt he could have added to his collection? Moot.

As Dana White said upon hearing the news, he doesn’t have a plan B. Meaning, at least at the time of this writing, waiting out Overeem’s “B” sample becomes the plan B by default. Problem is, those results could take a couple of weeks to get back, and “B” samples rarely contradict “A” samples anyway. But the show must go on. White has said that dos Santos will defend his title at UFC 146 whether it’s against Overeem or somebody else.

In other words, it’s time to speculate into these somebody else’s, and -- just for theatrical value -- assess their chances in carefully considered odds.

Frank Mir

The NSAC’s Keith Kizer sent out the mass email at 4:40 p.m. ET with the results of the UFC 146 news conference tests. Twitter went wild. At 6:15 ET, Mir released a statement via email saying, “I would be excited if given the opportunity to compete for the UFC’s heavyweight title at UFC 146 if the reports released earlier today regarding Alistair Overeem failing his "A" sample drug test are true.” Mir went on to say it’s a dream of his to be the first three-time champion. He swooped in quicker on a dangling title shot than he did on Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira’s ill-placed limb.

His case: How many times have we heard Dana White say he admires it when guys step up? That’s what Mir’s doing. A no-hesitation lobby job, knowing that out of the full panoramic spectrum of heavies he has the best credentials to get the shot, having won three in a row. He also snapped dos Santos’ friend Big Nog’s arm, which makes him a sort of dark cloud gathering over the champion.

Chances of him getting it: 2-1

Cain Velasquez

Velasquez had the belt for 13 months, but lost it in the 64th second of his first title defense against dos Santos. How’s that for anticlimax? Though a rematch between Velasquez and dos Santos might appear sort of uninspired, the fact is, there were conditions.

His case: Velasquez was dealing with a bum knee that night in November, but couldn’t back out of a fight that was hyped as the biggest thing since Frazier/Ali across FOX platforms. It was a red carpet affair, the long-stemmed aperitif to the seven-year network deal, the bonus bout meant to tempt the semi-curious masses into peeping. Whether coaxed or not, he went through with it, and lost. Everybody knows we didn’t see the best Cain Velasquez that night, just as everybody knows we probably would this time through.

Chances of getting it: 3-1

Mark Hunt

It seems ridiculous to even type Mark Hunt in this space, but Hunt is a fan favorite and a surprisingly popular choice for the gig. Have people lost their marbles in wanting to see a resurrected 38-year old New Zealander step in there with the champion? Is this not a meritocracy? The answer is no: This is a pinch. And so long as Hunt is a nice guy, a long-shot Cinderella and a bad basher to boot, he’ll get the sentimentalist’s vote. We’re a nation of softies.

His case: Hunt was a liability to the UFC when he came over, a barnacle on the Pride purchase. Hunt lost to Sean stinking McCorkle in his Octagon debut, further exacerbating the situation. Then the unthinkable started happening. Hunt knocked out Chris Tuchscherer, decisioned Ben Rothwell, and then flattened Cheick Kongo. Talk about resuscitation! And here we thought we had lost him.

Chances of getting it: 15-1

Dan Henderson

Henderson as a candidate sort of slowly dawned on people. It went like this -- “Henderson? LOL!” to “isn’t he waiting for Jon Jones-Rashad Evans to play out?” to “you know something, that dude’s batty enough to do it” to “Hendo would plant JDS into the soft earth!” The truth is, Henderson has flirted with the idea of fighting at heavyweight -- which he’s done before, most recently against Fedor Emelianenko in Strikeforce -- and he doesn’t concern himself with the usual neuroses of modern day fighters (short notice, size discrepancies, JDS’s mangling hooks). Why? You tell Henderson he can’t do something, he gets defiant. It’s his most admirable trait. And he likes money, which is his more cliché one.

His case: Besides willingness? He wouldn’t have to cut weight. He could still feasibly keep his spot in line at light heavyweight regardless of outcome with the relative meshing of schedules and the dearth of viable contenders behind him. Remember that he fought Quinton Jackson (205) and Anderson Silva (185) in back-to-back title challenges in 2007-2008.

Chances of getting it: 12-1

Fedor Emelianenko

This is more of a fan’s choice than a UFC one. Dana White reluctantly gave into the idea of signing Emelianenko a couple of years ago, offered him wheelbarrows of cash that would turn other comparable fighters faces purple with rage, and was rebuffed. White’s assessment then -- that Fedor's people were crazy and crooked -- is probably his assessment now. Negotiations between M-1 and the UFC ride along the Cold War divide. But given that White’s running refrain has always been to give the people the fights they want to see, you can’t just accept it as impossible. Fedor still has his legions. He still sells.

His case: What, beating Jeff Monson over the course of three rounds doesn’t say it all? Flattening Satoshi Ishii doesn’t carry the right momentum? The “Last Emperor” and a million loyalists care what you think. And besides, the idea of Fedor against Junior dos Santos has something beyond novelty appeal. In the spirit of a fight, it has actual curiosity.

Chances of getting it: About the same as the Ukraine opening up Chernobyl as a tourist attraction next week.

The biggest heavyweight fight in UFC history between Junior dos Santos and Cain Velasquez lasted a minute and four seconds. It was so brief that the coveted casual fan that tuned in to FOX that night was left with these four lonely words -- wait, so that’s it?

On the other hand, the biggest heavyweight grand prix in history has stretched on for 15 long, meandering months. When it started, Strikeforce was still a rival of the UFC’s. Fedor Emelianenko was still formidable. Antonio Silva was constructed from body parts unknown. Fabricio Werdum was still a castoff, and Brett Rogers was free of legal isues. Josh Barnett had single handedly shut down Affliction, and Andrei Arlovski was still believable in fangs. You might remember that The Reem wasn’t yet viral, and Sergei Kharitonov was still unspellable.

It was a different era when the tournament started. In fact, Daniel Cormier, who is in the grand prix final against Barnett, was the eleventh man in the field of eight. How, exactly, did we get here?

Just about all the elite Zuffa heavyweights (and Roy Nelson) will be making appearances in a seven-day span in May. The roads to spring 2012 have been very different, but between May 19-26, everybody will finally get on the same page. Schedules will sync up for matchmaking, guys who have been cordoned off from each other will be at liberty to poke their fingers in whoever’s chest they please, and the division will become one massive melting pot.

It starts with Strikeforce’s heavyweight swan song in San Jose, Calif.; and ends with the UFC’s big man extravaganza in Las Vegas. On May 19, Cormier-Barnett goes down at long, long last, before one or both head to the UFC. On May 26, Frank Mir against Velasquez, Nelson versus Antonio Silva, Alistair Overeem in a title fight with Junior dos Santos. Seven of those names belong in ESPN.com’s top 10 Power Rankings.

That’s a lot of firepower. Forget about the biggest fight or biggest grand prix in heavyweight history -- this will be the biggest single week of consolidating big men we’ve ever seen. And a week after that, we’ll be in a state of musical opponents, matching up winners with winners and losers with losers, and pitting re-emerging bodies like Shane Carwin and Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira with each other.

What does it really mean, though? That we’ll finally have a division that captivates the imagination like the others, with a little more matchmaking wiggle room and a lot more overall possibility. It’s a relaunch of something, only this time something whole. Now the best heavyweights in the world are gathering under one roof. And as everybody knows, heavyweights have always carried a little extra clout in the minds of fight fans. The bigger the man, the more likely people are to stop what they’re doing to watch. It’s what happens when guys like Alistair Overeem walk around weighing two Ian McCall’s.

And Zuffa is smart to roll out this broadened division en masse like this.

If you’re going to reimagine something, do it big.

For all the marvels, one thing that UFC President Dana White has never been particularly good at is speaking for Dan Henderson. This was the case before Henderson bolted for Strikeforce, and it’s still the case right now.

And for as telegraphic as Henderson has been in his latest title quest -- in any division he can physically make from middleweight on up -- he apparently turns into a sphinx when it comes to everything besides. White says Hendo’s waiting for Jon Jones/Rashad Evans; Henderson says that isn't true, that he wants to stay busy. White says Hendo turned down a fight with Lyoto Machida; Henderson says that’s the buffet talking -- that fight was never on the table.

One of these guys needs to get a landline, because the phone calls keep breaking up.

So what’s the truth? Probably that neither party has any good ideas on what to do. Henderson is hovering as contender No. 1B in two divisions, with willingness to explore a third (heavyweight). Yet out of all those divisions, the UFC can’t find him an opponent. It’s problematic for a 41-year-old to hit these kind of wait-and-see impasses.

The sticking point is that Henderson wants a guy of similar projection, somebody with a couple of wins in a row and title momentum. Those are scarce right now in the divisions Henderson dabbles in. If Henderson could make welterweight, he’d find the kind of guys he’s talking about. People like Carlos Condit, who has an interim belt he doesn’t know what to do with. Or Jake Ellenberger, who fits that bill, too. To fight those types, Henderson would have to fast like a yogi for as long as it would take to wait out Jones/Evans in April. In other words, fat chance.

At light heavyweight (his obvious preference), there’s Machida, who’s lost three of his last four bouts. But Machida’s in his own purgatory -- and even then he’s become a pretty attractive “why not” proposition for people in better positions to consider. Henderson apparently is. And there’s also the winner of Ryan Bader/Quinton Jackson, which happens on Feb. 26 in Japan at UFC 144. If the UFC could book a quick turnaround fight with the winner there and jibe up the schedules to the Jones/Evans bout, Henderson would do it.

Again, though, that’s all a dice throw.

Yet aside from a Mauricio Rua rematch, that’s about all there is -- and a Rua rematch would feel too much like déjà vu. How haunting would it be to sign on for that fight just in time for Evans to go down with an injury, just like last time? Never mind the memorable fight they put on, had Henderson waited a week before signing on for Rua at UFC 139, he’d already have fought Jon Jones at UFC 140 in Toronto. That stays in Henderson’s mind as much as the experience with Rua.

So who else is there? Henderson has made it clear he doesn’t want to go back down to middleweight unless it’s for a rematch with Anderson Silva -- which leaves heavyweight, a division that Henderson would never balk at fighting in so long as it could be perceived as fan friendly. Unfortunately, not a lot of fights make sense there, either (read: virtually none).

Pat Barry has Lavar Johnson in his sights, and Cheick Kongo is fighting Mark Hunt in Japan. Stefan Struve? Doesn’t seem a big enough name for Henderson. All the elite names (Junior dos Santos, Alistair Overeem, Frank Mir, Cain Velasquez) have fights already. And besides, as Henderson said, “none of those guys wants to fight me, anyway.” Daniel Cormier stares at his phone most days saying, “why won’t you ring, why won’t you ring?” Shane Carwin is still a mile down the calendar from coming back. The only name that could be intriguing at all would be Fabricio Werdum, a smaller heavyweight who shares a distinction with Henderson of having defeated Fedor Emelianenko.

It would be a cameo, but in a world of very few alternatives, it might be enough to pique Henderson’s interest.

Otherwise, the options for a marquee fight are very limited for Henderson right now, and matchmaker Joe Silva and Dana White are throwing up their hands with what to do. So is Henderson. Will he wait? Will he fight? Seems like a good time to meet up, put some headshots on the wall, and throw some darts.

Or, at very least, for the UFC and Dan Henderson to have a talk.

So, Strikeforce is running a clearance on its once vaunted roster of heavyweights, and everyone between 207-266 pounds must go. What a difference a year makes.

In January of this year, the eight big guns on Strikeforce’s heavyweight roster stood on a New York City stage and looked like the most imposing ingredients to a nonfictional tournament since the Pride days. Even the alternates -- guys like Daniel Cormier, who defied odds by sneaking in and making it to the finals, and the mutton-chopped Chad Griggs -- were lively enough understudies.

The subtext of the grand prix? That Strikeforce had more depth in the most glamorous weight class than the UFC. It wasn’t the elephant in the room -- these were eight elephants in a room.

Dana White snickered. By spring, Zuffa bought Strikeforce. By summer, Alistair Overeem was on his way to the UFC. By winter, the wrecking ball assembly that made up the grand prix is being rapidly consolidated with the UFC's roster.

Zuffa is closing down the Strikeforce heavies to deepen the UFC’s. This, of course, is a good thing. The UFC’s heavyweight landscape will finally be on par with its other weight classes. How timely is that?

Not long ago (as in August), Brendan Schaub began to look like a top-flight heavyweight in the UFC. Not out of merit, but out of necessity. Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira, in the twilight of his career, shut things down. Then it was Matt Mitrione, before he was Jenga’d by Cheick Kongo. Even UFC newbie Stipe Miocic began to look like “promise,” well before he stepped in the Octagon. All this time we’ve been playing at the dearth.

But now reinforcements are arriving. Reigning Strikeforce champion Alistair Overeem was first, and he’ll fight Brock Lesnar next week at UFC 141 in a title eliminator. Fabricio Werdum came next, and he’ll take on Roy Nelson at UFC 143. With the news of Strikeforce shutting its heavyweight division down in total, the carpet is rolling out for others now, too.

Lavar Johnson, who also fought in the WEC back in 2005 and 2006, has signed to fight Joey Beltran at UFC on FOX: "Davis vs. Evans." And MMA Weekly reported that Griggs -- who foiled overly idealistic plans for Bobby Lashley by obliterating him -- also signed a contract with the UFC, and will debut in the Octagon in 2012. Antonio Silva is expecting a call soon, and Sergei Kharitonov would like to join his training partner John Olav Einemo in the UFC.

Of all the grand prix participants, only a few will likely be left out -- Andrei Arlovski, the former UFC champion, who is on (what he hopes) a comeback trail; Brett Rogers, whose personal life is in shambles; and Fedor Emelienenko, whose management would like to skip the process and pencil in a date with Cain Velasquez.

Once Daniel Cormier and Josh Barnett finish up the afterthought-ish grand prix in March, one or each will make their way to the UFC. (There is still a bonus heavyweight fight for the winner, which is short on details right now). When that happens, which could be as early as April or May of 2012, matchmaking in the UFC’s heavyweight division becomes more fun. With the reemergence of Frank Mir, there are now five legit bigs at the top -- Junior dos Santos, Velasquez, Overeem, Lesnar and Mir. Shane Carwin will be back in mid-2012, as well. Cusp fighters like Roy Nelson, Kongo and Travis Browne are still there, and green-but-emerging guys like Schaub and Mitrione are hovering.

But when you stack Werdum, Bigfoot Silva, Barnett, Cormier, Kharitonov, Shane del Rosario and Griggs in there? This thing about finding out who the best heavyweight in the world is becomes legit.

At the beginning of 2011, the questions centered around what happens if there wasn’t a partition between Strikeforce and the UFC, if guys like Overeem fought in the UFC? The partition is coming down, and we’ll find out soon enough.

Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira is looking at a long layoff after undergoing surgery that required 16 screws to repair his broken arm. Blog »

A few days have passed, and some in the MMA community are still flummoxed by Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira’s loss with Frank Mir. In retrospect, that Kimura which Mir used to submit Big Nog looks like it was on pretty tight and Nogueira should have probably tapped. Then again, allowing your arm to be broken when a simple tap frees the shackles means you probably don’t believe in retrospects to begin with. It means you believe in not tapping.

And the calcification process.

But the broken arm wasn’t the most confounding thing that happened in the co-main event at UFC 140. The worse thing to digest, if you’re playing out the whole string of regrets, is that Nogueira didn’t finish the job with his fists while he had Mir groping around on the floor like a man who’d lost a contact lens. At that moment, it was Nog’s fight to lose. And that's exactly what he did.

Nogueira rocked Mir with a right hand that swooned the whole 260-pound fighter, then began hacking away once the fight hit the ground. Referee Herb Dean stepped in closer with his hands ready to make the "enough is enough"/"land here, copter" motion. Dean warned Nogueira to watch the back of the head as the finishing blows were being dealt, and that’s precisely when Nogueira -- inexplicably, stupefyingly, regrettably -- pulled guard and set the tables to be reversed. What looked like a guillotine attempt by Nogueira, acted like an instant reprieve. Mir regained his wits and rolled out easily. Twenty seconds later, Nogueira’s right arm lay at his side as a macabre scene. He stared at it like it didn’t belong to him.

The whole chain of events was crazy. And since then, depending on your outlook, Nogueira is either stubborn or a warrior -- or a stubborn warrior -- for not tapping. Maybe the better way to break it down is that he was brave not to tap, but silly to put himself in that position to begin with (remembering, of course, that there’s such a thing as the “heat of the moment”). At any rate, an antonym of Nogueira this week is “smart,” yet now there are even further voices chiming in on that strange piece of theater that played out in Toronto.

This time from Luiz Dorea --Nogueira’s boxing coach and friend -- who told Brazilian blog Por Dentro da Arena that the fight should have been stopped during the Nogueira onslaught.

“Minotauro landed a sequence of attacks and left Mir passive on the ground, without defense and with his head downward taking more punches,” he said. “[Mir] was passive. That was the signal for the referee to have stopped the fight at that time. Mir was defenseless but not all referees behave the same way. Despite the standard improving, there are still fails in MMA refereeing.”

Herb Dean isn’t used to being thrown under the bus, but it comes with the territory. Yet watching the fight again, Dorea’s assessment seems like sour grapes. Mir was down and closing in on out, but he was still on all fours and trying to get out of harm's way, which can’t be considered “unintelligent.” Had Dean stopped the fight then, there would have been a far stronger upheaval about an early stoppage.

So the fight was allowed to play out as it should, which ended up being a fight that played out in ways it shouldn’t have. At least for Big Nog, who will have a long rehabilitation period to think over the mistakes. Regrets, as been said, have managed to stay in a business a long, long time.