Blood sport: it's the "realest" reality show on TV: the fighters of the UFC are among the best conditioned athletes in the world, and their hit show is kicking serious ass on Spike TV

Men's Fitness, Sept, 2005 by Sean Hyson

FROM THE MOMENT YOU WALK ONTO THE SET, you feel you're in immediate danger. The stars of Spike TV's The Ultimate Fighter (TUF) stand before you chucking heavy medicine balls against the wall, the sound detonating like an M-80. From there, they move on to pummeling a heavy bag or wrestling each other to the ground, choking one another and bending arms and legs to the breaking point. Among the group, you see bruises, bumps, mangled ears, and massive amounts of scar tissue. And of course, there are the requisite cameras to capture the action.

But unlike on the sets of Survivor, Fear Factor--even Big Brother and American Idol--there are no judges to impress, no exotic locations to pose in front of, no celebrity hosts or airhead bleach blondes, no weird foods to sample, no makeup, no wardrobe--no bullshit. "Strange," you think to yourself, "I thought this was a reality show."

Well, it is. What sets it apart from the rest of the reality-TV pack, however, is that it's actually real. Real punches, real fights, real blood. And real guys delivering them.

"First and foremost, what we care about is if the participants are good fighters," says Dana White, president of the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) and its parent company, Zuffa Entertainment. Hoping the 13-episode show, which rewards two winning fighters with six-figure contracts to fight in the UFC, will build his roster of competitors, White is much less concerned with the theatrics that typically make for good TV ratings.

"Personality is important," admits White. "Of course we don't want a bunch of boring guys who don't talk or hang with each other. But I'm more interested in getting guys who really want to fight." So far, that logic appears to be working. Despite a time slot that could crush lesser programs, the first season of The Ultimate Fighter had a bone-smashing 2 million viewers a week in its Monday 11:05 p.m. EST spot.

TUF ENOUGH

"I loved the Season 1 cast because there were no guarantees," says White. "When we started, we didn't know if this thing was going to be a success or if we were going to become another bunch of reality-TV goofballs. It could have done terrible ratings or not even made it to television for all those fighters knew, but they came on, worked through injuries, and fought their asses off."

And not for nothing. Not only did the show catapult the careers of veteran fighters Forrest Griffin, Stephan Bonnar, and Diego Sanchez, the Season I finale, which aired on Spike TV during prime time last April, attracted an amazing 3.3 million viewers.

"When we were casting for Season 2, after everybody knew the show was a hit, I was worried that we were going to get a bunch of people who just wanted to be on television to get their 15 minutes of fame," says White. That didn't happen. "We had a few like that in the beginning, but they got weeded out real quick."

Much like in its first season, TUF Season 2 begins with 18 fighters from two weight classes who are quarantined for six weeks in a house on the outskirts of Las Vegas. The fighters are divided into two teams, each captained by a leading UFC competitor, with members squaring off against counterparts from the opposing team each week. Losing fighters are eliminated in each weekly episode until only four are left to compete at the TUF finale (on November 12) to determine the winner of each weight class and the three-fight contract.

HOUSE OF PAIN

Don't expect any Real World- or Apprentice-style antics on The Ultimate Fighter. "The fighters aren't allowed any interaction with the TV crew," says UFC spokesman Jim Byrne, a regular visitor to the set. "And the teams train separately for insularry. It creates a cohessiveness." In a test of the fighters' resolve, they also aren't allowed to watch television, listen to music, read unapproved books or magazines, make phone calls, or even leave the house (unless it's to train or fight in the Octagon--The Ultimate Fighter's equivalent of the Tribal Council or The Bachelor's Rose Ceremony). "We do, however, have an open bar in the house," Byrne says. The idea is to test the fighters' discipline and see if unlimited beer and vodka can drive them to their breaking point.

And how are they doing with that temptation so far? "Great" says Rich Franklin, the UFC's middle-weight champion and captain of one of the teams. "When one guy won a fight, they each had only half a beer to celebrate." (But who knows how long that will last? One of TUF's more notorious first-season episodes involved fighter Chris Leben punching out a window in a drunken rampage.)

But even without any drunken rages, the new season promises plenty of drama--and not just in the ring. "This season, the guys are five times tougher than last," says Jorge Gurgel, 28, one of Franklin's welterweights. "A lot of the guys this time are extremely outspoken. There are some big egos here. We're competing all the time, in everything."

Sam Morgan, a 23-year-old welterweight on UFC legend Matt Hughes' team, agrees, adding that, at its core, the show is based on emotion. "You can't spend six weeks in a house and not talk to anybody--you'd be pretty lonely. So if I find a bond with someone here, I go with it. But you have to stay focused on what you're doing and whom you're going to have to fight next. The one you're bunking next to tonight could be the guy you're staring across the Octagon at tomorrow."