About the only color in the sterile, white hospital room came froman unusual place. It emanated from the fighter sitting awake in hisbed groping at the gauzy figure around him, more specifically, hiseyes. A distorted, purplish hue had already taken shape aroundswollen, tear-filled, mini-mountains of stretched flesh that juttedup beyond his forehead. He was broken, and his mumbled words weredepressing.
What hurt Jake Shieldsmore than anything that night was the feeling that something heloved, his passion, had robbed him. Everything he did right wasdefeated by an opponent who did everything wrong. This was hisprice, he thought, for the countless hours and sacrifice, lying inthis hospital bed wondering if he would ever be able to clearly seehis daughter or family again.
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The last time Shields was in the cage, he submitted to RousimarPalhares at World Series of Fighting 22 on Aug. 1, 2015 in LasVegas. It was a fight Shields had controlled until he becameentangled in a Palhares kimura and tapped 2:02 into the thirdround. Grave controversy had arisen earlier, however, as Palhareshad pressed his thumbs into Shields’ eyes. Referee Steve Mazzagattiwarned the Brazilian and threatened a point deduction in the secondround. In the closing seconds of the frame, Palhares again attackedthe eyes. No point was taken. Worse yet, Palhares refused torelease the kimura following the tapout, leading Shields to respondby punching him after the fight was over.
Palhares’ actions were so egregious that incensed World Series of Fighting Vice President Ali Abdel-Aziz strippedhim of the promotion’s welterweight championship and suspended himindefinitely. Abdel-Aziz went so far as to say Palhares “has mentalproblems and shouldn’t be allowed to fight until he fixes them.”The aftermath did not help Shields much.
The former Strikeforce,Shootoand EliteXCchampion hopes to put the incident behind him when he facesJonFitch for the vacant World Series of Fighting welterweightcrown in the WSOF34 co-main event on Dec. 31 at Madison Square Garden in NewYork.
“I was hoping that they overturned the decision, and the ref shouldhave been banned, as well, but I won’t forget what happened to me,”Shields said. “I couldn’t see. It was just me and [trainer] Tareq[Azim] there. I was supposed to go in there and win another title,and I have lost before. I can deal with it. This was just somethingwhere I was cheated out of the fight.
“I had to think about fighting again,” he added. “I seriouslythought about whether or not this is what I want to do for the restof my life. When you get thumbed in the eye, it gets kind of scarywhen you can’t see. When you start thinking about losing your eyes,you do get scared. I started to think more about real things. Icouldn’t see out of either eye, and I wanted to take some time offand see what I wanted to do next.”
It was a cathartic moment for Shields, 37, who will carry a 31-8-1record into his fight with Fitch on New Year’s Eve. Time offallowed him to rinse away the hard feelings and gradually puthimself back together again. Shields will return on the heels ofone of the longest layoffs of his career. Azim knew he was comingback, as did his pal, Beau Taylor;they both go way back with Shields. Azim has known Shields for adecade. He started as Shields’ training partner and became histrainer after being injured. It was Azim who tried to go afterPalhares following WSOF 22. Standing by Shields’ side in thehospital room made Azim twist inside. Here he was watching his bestfriend despair over a situation that was not exactly his fault.
“It was hard seeing Jake like that, and it was frustrating becauseit was a situation outside of Jake’s control,” Azim said. “I seehow the guy works, and he is one of the reasons why mixed martialarts is where it is today. It was frustrating to see all of thisend, because what happened could have blinded him. Everything Jakebuilt could have been taken away from him. Being there in thehospital sucked. I saw him go through a lot of pain and injustice.It was definitely a sad scene. I didn’t want that hard conversationwith him about the future. I couldn’t wait for the night topass.”
It did. Shields took a few weeks off in Indonesia and felt the sunon his face. Within a month, he was getting the itch to work outagain.
“It’s why I look up to Jake and he’s priority in my life, becausehe makes everyone better around him,” Azim said. “Jake never feelssorry for himself. He had that moment in the hospital. It’ssomething that can happen to anyone, especially with what happenedto Jake. We have a motto here at Empower Gym that we don’t donormal people things.
“Right now, Jake is in the best shape and best mental state he’sever been in,” he added. “He didn’t shut himself down. This fightwith Fitch is a great opportunity for him to fight someone who heshould have fought who he hasn’t fought. Look at Jake’s resume. Hehas a hall-of-fame resume, and as a friend, Jake has nothing elseto prove in this sport; but you can tell he still has someunfinished business in this sport. I knew Jake was going to moveforward with this fight after a few jiu-jitsu tournaments.”
When Shields asked Azim to spar during the first week of February,he knew something was in the works.
“That’s when I said to myself, ‘I think we’re getting ready tofight again,’ and I could see his fight-fix face,” Azim said.“There’s this tunnel, zoned look when he gets ready to fight. Jakealways has purpose why he does what he does.”
Taylor and Shields once trained together with ChuckLiddell. He watched his friend’s fight against Palhares live,screaming at his television screen. From a distance, it wasnauseating.
“Jake loves to fight; he really doesn’t care about the money,because when he started, there was no money out there,” Taylorsaid. “The money was an added bonus. The business came afterwards.Jake’s entire life has been competition, so for Palhares to pushJake to the extreme about asking himself about his future, thatsays a lot.
“We would talk about where to go,” he added. “Jake was completelyfrustrated and wondered why he was fighting. He was unfairlydropped by the UFC after losing to a guy [who tested] positive forPEDs (HectorLombard). Now he’s in the WSOF, and something else crazyhappened. Anyone would reconsider why they were doing this. Jakedominated DanHenderson in his prime. Look at whom this guy has beaten, andit’s a hall-of-fame resume. He has a history of shockingpeople.”
It has been an interesting climb back for Shields. He went frombeing empty to suddenly rekindling a passion. He never fell overthe edge. Now, he feels whole again.
“I don’t feel any older, though there are times when you fight somany years when you feel better than other times; there are timeswhen you feel a little bit off and life distractions pull youcertain places where you don’t feel 100 percent,” Shields said. “Ifeel 100 percent right now. My training is going amazing, and Ifeel that I’m evolving. Everything feels great right now. You’resitting in a hospital bed and you don’t think about a lot ofpositives. I’ve always loved to fight. I don’t think that’s evergoing to change.”
It was ingrained into him early.
The Urge That Started It All
Shields used to work out with Liddell before he became “TheIceman.” Originally from Calaveras, California, where he wrestledat Calaveras High School, Shields went on to wrestle a few years atCuesta College in San Luis Obispo, California, and a year at SanFrancisco State University.
“I watched a little bit of MMA in high school and thought it wascrazy,” Shields said. “It wasn’t something that I planned on doingfor the rest of my life, but the wrestling coach at Cuesta knewChuck, so after wrestling season I would mess around with Chuck andgot beat up a little bit by Chuck and thought it was pretty cool.Chuck was a local badass at the time. This was before Chuck becamereally known. At the time, I didn’t take it too seriously -- untilI actually went to watch a fight.”
Then the direction of his life changed. Shields went with a groupof friends to see an MMA show at one of the Indian reservations inTemecula Valley. The emcee at the event made an announcement: “Oneof our main event fighters didn’t show up, and we’re looking forsomeone out there who might be interested in fighting.” That wasall Shields had to hear.
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First, you have to imagine the setting. It was the late 1990s,which in this tableau could have been the late 1890s on a barge inthe middle of a bay. There were no sanctioned MMA fights inCalifornia at the time, so the fights were done ad hoc,bare-knuckled, sans weight classes and usually held inout-of-the-way venues the “authorities” couldn't care less about.Shields’ first venture into the seedy, underground world cameoutside under a tent. The audience sat in white folding chairsimbedded in grass, and the fighters fought amid a bunch ofstumbling, loud drunks and power drinkers thirsty to see blood, aslong as it was not their own.
They held it in a rickety boxing ring on a blood-blotched canvas,where there was sure to be small pieces of an ear or a nostrillying around, too, Shields said with a laugh. Still, somethingcaused him to get up and want to take on the so-called “champion”of the promotion. They handed Shields a mouthpiece, and he placed aborrowed cup inside a pair of borrowed shorts.
“It was pretty rough, and they just put it out there if someonewanted to fight,” said Shields, who was around 20 at the time. “Iwas there because some guys from our SLO (San Luis Obispo)kickboxing gym were fighting. I had a wrestling background, andback in the day, guys weren’t as well-rounded as they are today, soyou could get by with one discipline.
“Having a wrestling background, I could beat a lot of guys justwith the wrestling,” he added. “Everyone was drinking, no rules inthis boxing ring, and it might cost $10, $20 to get in and seethis. I was in jeans and a T-shirt, and I heard this announcementthat they were looking for someone to fight. My dumbass got up andwalked to the back room and told one of the guys that I wouldfight.”
It was a walk that stirred a love affair, a walk that changed hislife. Adrenaline pushed each step.
“I was hyped from watching the fights, and I told one of theorganizers that I wanted to fight,” Shields said. “Then once theytold me I could, reality kicked in, and I was like, ‘Oh s---, whatdid I just do?’ Before that happened, I was super pumped, but thenit was too late and I had to get it together. I had no idea who Iwas going up against. I didn’t see him until I got in the ring. Iborrowed someone’s shorts.
“The whole thing was completely unexpected,” he added. “It was oneof those things that happened so fast you don’t know what you’redoing. They didn’t even tape my hands. They handed me shorts, a cupand a mouthpiece. They had me in against an older Indian guy whowas pretty muscular but not really that scary looking. I thought Icould take the guy. I was young and won some street fights. I wasconfident, and a reason why I did it was because I thought I was alot tougher than I was.”
Shields proved himself right. He submitted the guy in two minutes.Being an accomplished wrestler, Shields took down his opponent,pounded away and caught him in a choke.
“That made me feel pretty good,” he said. “It was a small show outin the middle of nowhere in front of a thousand people, but thatstarted it. I really liked it. They stuffed a few hundred bucks inmy hand, and that was good for me, because I was broke at the time.I had money for beer and Fritos. I didn’t want to do it as acareer, but I thought it was something I could do on the side tomake a few bucks.
“Those early days were crazy,” Shields added. “There was one fightwhen the crowd started fighting. They were hitting each other overthe head with folding chairs. It turned pretty ugly. These are theearly fights you won’t see on my record. The competition levelwasn’t the greatest, but this was a time when no one really knewwhat they were doing. They would put you in with anyone, withoutany rules.”
Launching Point
By 2002, Shields had moved to San Francisco, was training atCesarGracie’s gym and somehow managed to maintain going to schoolwhile living in a cramped, one-bedroom apartment with hisgirlfriend at the time and an infant daughter. To keep thingsafloat, he subsisted on a job moving furniture. He was so tired hewalked around with his eyes at half-mast. He worked, tended to hisdaughter, trained, fought and wrestled for school. The days meldedtogether. Sometimes he was forced to take his baby girl toworkouts. He often fell asleep in class. Something had to give, sohe opted to drop out of school for a year to focus on fighting.
Across the Pacific Ocean, HayatoSakurai was looking for a cupcake to get on track. The Japanesestar was seeking a glorious return to Shooto after losing afive-round decision to Matt Hughes inthe Ultimate Fighting Championship in March 2002, and a hand-pickedopponent fell through. Word spread through reputable MMA gyms inthe United States that “Mach” was looking for a latereplacement.
Up stepped Shields. He had never flown before leaving for ShootoYear End Show 2002, which was held on Dec. 14 in Tokyo. Shieldstook the Sakurai fight on two and a half weeks’ notice. He wentwith training partner Nick Diaz, whohad never been on a plane before, either.
“They used to do it all of the time in Japan, where they would pairtheir Japanese stars against guys that they would get at the lastminute, hoping they were out of shape,” Shields said. “That wastheir game plan, but I was training and in shape. Nick and I landedin Japan, and there was definitely a culture shock. Being with Nickhelped. Neither of us were ever out of the country before, andCesar didn’t want to go to Japan, so it was me and Nick.
“The funny thing is Nick didn’t want to go,” he added. “Too late.We’re already on the plane. We were like, ‘Oh s---, we’re off toJapan.’ They had someone pick us up, and we’re staying near theTokyo Dome, but we weren’t anywhere near anyone who spoke English.The accommodations were good. There was no way to cut weight. Wewere looking for a sauna and got no help. I’m a vegetarian, so thatmade it even tougher to find food. Nick was probably around 18 or19 then, and I was a little older. Nick and I walked around anddidn’t talk to anyone. I want to make sure I’m clear here: TheJapanese weren’t mean. The Japanese culture, they’re very, verynice people, but they certainly didn’t do anything to help you. Youwere there to lose.”
Shields made the 167-pound weight limit. He was dried out but feltgood. Then he did something no one expected: He won. Shieldsdominated almost every second of every round in winning a unanimousdecision over Sakurai.
“They weren’t too happy,” Shields said. “That changed things. Itallowed me to start putting all of my energy into fighting. Thefight wasn’t big in Japan, but it helped me internationally. It putme on the map at least. I’ll say this, before Sakurai, I had mydoubts whether I could make it in MMA. I was still new to thesport, and that made me decide to put full energy into the sport.My father got behind me by then and really helped me take off.”
Shields minimized the distractions in his life. He was studyingkinesiology, also known as human kinetics, the scientific study ofhuman movement. It is brain-bending work. He discontinued thoseefforts and made his crossover fight, beating Henderson under theStrikeforce banner before a national television audience on April10, 2010. From December 2002 until his decision loss to Georges St.Pierre at UFC 129 on April 30, 2011, Shields went 18-1-1. Heenjoyed a 15-fight winning streak and beat some of the bestfighters in the world, including Henderson, RobbieLawler, CarlosCondit, TyronWoodley and Demian Maia,winning a Rumble on the Rock tournament and capturing titles inShooto, EliteXC and Strikeforce along the way.
“Beating Henderson put me on the mainstream vane, but before that,I was doing OK, making good money, and I was able to trainfull-time,” Shields said. “Making money changes things, because youdon’t have to live fight to fight anymore, but there were alsodistractions that came with success, too. You start doing well andeveryone starts pulling you everywhere. Girls were everywhere,which really isn’t such a bad thing, but it can be adistraction.
“I had fun in my life, but I learned to become more disciplined andlearned when not to party,” he continued. “I partied a little bit,but I was never one of those guys that would party right up to myfight. It is easy to get distracted when everyone wants you to goout and do things. My daughter is a huge part of my life, and she’sonly known me as a fighter. She gets a little nervous when I fight,but she knows how to deal with it. I’m fortunate. I’ve neversuffered any major injuries. I love it.
“It’s been 17 years, and I still enjoy it,” Shields added. “I’mfinancially good. I don’t have to fight. I love to fight. I don’tthink that will ever change. Fighting is a part of me. Some scumbaglike Rousimar Palhares wasn’t ever going to change that. It’s whyI’m back, and I really can’t wait for Dec. 31. I’ll be back doingwhat I love.”
