By Danny Acosta Senior Writer

Seven years ago, a self-made millionaire bestowed invaluable advice upon me: "Always let everyone else know what you're about-upfront." So before I proceed with my debut column, I want to let my dozens of readers know what I'm about. Just think a Mexican Nobukhio Takada: big in Japan, looks great in ridiculous underwear, and knows how to fix the hell out of a fight.

All legendary references aside, making sense of MMA these days is about as easy as sitting through an advanced screening of Sex and the City: The Movie. Luckily I am an honor student in sense making school. So get out pen and paper, copying these notes will make you the most knowledgeable keyboard warrior this side of Ben Zeidler.

Most of the confusion in MMA can be attributed to Kevin Ferguson, who originated the nickname Fergie, but wisely dropped it in favor of Kimbo Slice. The brawler-turned-mixed-martial-artist is taking pot shots on the chin from every MMA critic imaginable, including the UFC's answer to Johnny Tightlips—Chuck Liddell. Yet Slice's stardom has landed him on the cover of ESPN Magazine.

Why so much love for someone who is 2-0 against less-than-elite competition? The answer is that Kimbo Slice IS mixed martial arts. From complete obscurity to taboo stardom, Slice is struggling to gain legitimacy. Sound familiar? Factor in his off-putting appearance that conceals a deeper story and there is an undeniable parallel to the sport we all love.

The reason Slice is headlining MMA's first live network event is his story. It is as compelling as the "human cockfighting to legitimate sporting league" piece every news outlet in the United States has exhausted. Diehard fans are undoubtedly tired of that narrative, but it still must be heard. Every Marvel movie starts the same—origin story.

It is unreasonable to fault Slice for his past since he is now a dedicated professional fighter. That is the same logic employed by critics who deride MMA. They confuse it WAS barbaric with it IS barbaric. If Kimbo Slice was claiming he was the end-all-be-all in MMA, criticism would be just, but he has been a consummate professional in his short career. He is the star EliteXC was hoping for when they were attempting to spring Charles Bennett.

The critics do not stop. Even CBS Chairman Sumner Redstone has expressed his displeasure about EliteXC being on his channel. Well, Red, MMA is like Kimbo Slice—here to stay.

As EliteXC relishes its prime time slot, I go on Bukowskiesque benders attempting to figure out why they have not signed Shonie Carter. Each week I tune into Iron Ring to catch glimpses of "Mr. International" and receive Chicago Cub-sized let downs. EliteXC President Gary Shaw asserts he is in the star-making business, but is letting one of MMA's long lost commodities rot away on a show that has more star power than the Betty Ford clinic and less to do with MMA than colonics. Carter was inexplicably let go by the UFC after one post-Ultimate Fighter loss. Shaw's quality signings of Nick Diaz and Drew Fickett proves he has a "their loss" attitude toward the UFC. He is just guilty of one obvious oversight.

Carter will fight at any weight, is a stiff challenge no matter what, and can sell a fight with the Tin Man if he needed. If the UFC veteran's services are not wanted as a fighter, put him in any on-air role and watch entertainment value soar.

Instead, I have to play infinite guessing games as to what is going on during Iron Ring. The entrepreneurs running the show are the main attraction—not the fighters. It is dandy except for the fact that it is a fight show. Glimpses of legitimacy seep through when Jermaine Andre or even Nelly speak about MMA, but are squandered when the show focuses on ambulances more than armbars. Not specifying rules, the absence of judges (or referees who wear gloves), and a complete lack of direction makes the "league" impossible to watch. But I still tune in to see Shonie Carter.

MMA fans got UFC Fight Night to air for three hours, they can get "H.G. Paperstacks" more coinage for his chalice. Tito Ortiz, who is poised for a mega-fight with Frank Shamrock when Shaw follows him like stink on Hannah Montana's acting, is not the only one axed by the UFC who can sell. Get out that checkbook, Shaw.

The UFC needed Jack Torrance-style axing to get rid of Tim Sylvia. While Sylvia is not going to attract an audience larger than high school bleaches, he is the main profiteer in MMA's riskiest venture. If "The Maine-iac" defeats Fedor Emelianenko in their July 19 bout, a bout between the Russian and Randy Couture loses all appeal. Never mind Couture turns 45 before the Sylvia-Emelianenko fight takes place. Sylvia will most likely pull in his biggest payday to date and has a chance to validate a career marred by lack of respect. Losing to the best heavyweight in the world does not hurt his stock, either. All upside for Sylvia, plenty of downside for fans.

But downsides are not foreign to fight fans. In a world where Kimbo Slice is the poster boy for MMA, Shonie Carter is only on one TV show, and Tim Sylvia is an undeniable winner, down starts to look like up to me.