For Munoz, WEC Debut is Just the Beginning
When he enters the cage June 1 on the WEC undercard, Mark Munoz (Pictures) will be yet another obscure mixed martial artist hoping to change his status with a breakout performance. Facing 13-3 Chuck Grigsby, Munoz will be eyeing a 6-foot-6 foe -- who went 8-1 last year alone -- with vast advantages in standup striking. On paper, it seems a bit of a mismatch in terms of experience.
"He has a lot of power punches," Munoz said. "That's why I've placed a lot of focus on being a boxer, moving like a boxer and slipping inside, getting my clinches and takedowns. I know he's lost to wrestlers. That's a plus."
A big plus.
For if the opinions of better-known fighters count for anything, Munoz, unbeaten in three bouts, might give fans something to remember given the prowess he's already shown working out with some of the best in the game. An NCAA 197-pound champion in 2001 for Oklahoma State, Munoz holds the wrestler's advantage that could be an effective trump card.
"He's really quick and he knows what hard work's about," said former UFC champ Tito Ortiz (Pictures), who hosted Munoz at Big Bear earlier this month as the two trained together along with several other fighters in recent weeks. Part of the rotating cast at Ortiz's high-altitude camp has included Ricco Rodriguez (Pictures), Scott Smith, Dean Lister (Pictures), Joe Riggs (Pictures) and others.
"He's got a very open mind. He's a very dominating wrestler, he learns really quick at jiu-jitsu, and his standup game's gotten a lot better," Ortiz added. "He has a chance to be a world champion in one and a half or two years. It comes down to hard work and dedication. He's done so well at the college level. There's not many guys that can call themselves a national champ."
Or listen to UFC light heavyweight James "Sandman" Irvin, fresh off his eight-second stoppage of Houston Alexander (Pictures). As teammates on the Capital City Fighting Alliance, they've spent plenty of time butting heads and pushing one another to the limit in training.
"In terms of just wrestling, he's technically the most frustrating guy I've rolled with," said Irvin, who has trained with Ortiz, Quinton Jackson (Pictures), Brandon Vera (Pictures) and Randy Couture (Pictures). "It's like your dad whipping your ass when you're 8 or 9 years old. He'll grab you and rag doll you. It's kinda discouraging, someone your same size and same age, and he just makes you feel helpless. As soon as we have more MMA tools it's a different fight, but he's so smothering and strong."
And there's the short take from Urijah Faber (Pictures) -- who defends his WEC featherweight title in the main event that night against Jens Pulver (Pictures) -- a Cap City teammate who pestered Munoz for years to enter MMA:
"He is a badass."
At first glance, Munoz, married and a father of four, seems almost too mellow to be an ex-college wrestler, much less a mixed martial artist. After finishing his college career seven years ago, he fell back on the reliable venues available -- coaching wrestling (he was an assistant at U.C. Davis, where he met Faber) and teaching clinics as a side gig.
After a standout high school career in Vallejo, Calif., where he was a two-time California Interscholastic Champ at 189 pounds, Munoz went to OSU. Run by legendary coach John Smith, the program has won 34 NCAA championships and produced a stream of All-Americans on an annual basis.
It's also where Munoz, eager to challenge himself at the next level, ran into what would be his toughest opponent in college -- making weight. Filling slots in a wrestling roster is a balancing act, and when Munoz learned early on he would have a spot in the lineup at 167 pounds, he took on the challenge. But at a steep price. His walking-around weight was 205, he was 18 years old, and his new weight class was 22 grueling pounds south of where he'd competed in high school.
"It was a different time in wrestling. They were taking advantage of every opportunity to have an edge on your opponent," Munoz recalled. "I cut to 167 my true freshman year. When John Smith asks you something, he says, ‘Jump,' and you pretty much say, ‘How high?'"
Munoz' trim-down regimen consisted of three sessions a day, which he describes as a "three-to-four pound practice," or "five-to-six pound practice," depending on what drills and the level of exertion required. He'd shed the weight, hit the books, eat minimally, if at all, weigh himself constantly, then return to workouts for more, despite constant hunger and privation. The will to get down to the weight carried him through that first early season, then the second, where he competed at 177 -- still too low to allow him to keep his strength as the year marched on and he kept filling out.
"Everything he told me to do, I did with all my heart," Munoz said. "My sophomore year, three wrestlers died. It was the whole weight-cutting and creatine thing. I beat a lot of ranked opponents those first two years. I was ranked top five in the nation and top four my sophomore year, but I didn't place at Nationals. You had to make weight all three days. I didn't have the strength to finish my matches. After Nationals, I didn't want to show my face. I didn't want anybody seeing me. I'm a disgrace to the Oklahoma State program. I couldn't place at Nationals and I can't even finish the deal. I couldn't walk up to John Smith and talk to him. I felt that I had let him down."
Weight-cutting-related tragedies in college wrestling enacted revisions to weight classes and rules for making poundage limits, and 167 was replaced by the 174-pound division. Munoz was also competing at 184 in open tournaments. His pending junior year of 2000 didn't seem any more appealing, though.
Before he left for home that summer, Smith called him in with the news -- Munoz would compete at 174 to fill the logical slot available to him in the OSU lineup.
"I was competing as high as 184, and I was weighing 215. I said ‘I can't do it.' For two hours we argued back and forth," Munoz said. "I finally said, fine, you're right."
Munoz had a plan, though. The summer heading into his junior year, he hit the weights, took creatine and added twenty pounds. You can't say no to a wrestling legend, he figured, unless you make the weight cut utterly impossible.
"Coach didn't see me for two months," Munoz said. "I was training with an Olympic hopeful. He walks in and says, ‘Munoz, get on the scale!' I weighed 236. He says ‘You need to get down to 215 in two weeks.' I said ‘O.K. coach.'"
Like every wrestling coach, particularly those at the elite level, Smith's vision had to balance the needs of the team versus the ability of his athletes to fit into a lineup strategy. Strong spots are maximized, weak spots often filled by guys asked to cut pounds. But Munoz figured going all-in for a spot at a higher weight was worth suffering through another two seasons of drastic weight-cutting, followed by the inevitable late-season exhaustion that cost him so dearly at the NCAA tournament.
"He was recruiting a 197-pounder to come in," Munoz added. "I told him ‘Coach, that's my spot.' When the recruit came in, I was wrestling him and tearing him apart. I ended up getting the spot. I was wrestling great wrestlers. I took advantage every summer to stay and learn. I love learning and executing."
Smith started him at 197 his final two years, where Munoz placed third in the nation as a junior and won a national championship his senior year.
But life after college wrestling proved nearly as challenging as finding that 197-pound slot on the OSU roster. Like many collegiate grapplers, he fell back on coaching -- two years at OSU before joining the U.C. Davis staff -- and clinics. But with a growing family, it was a tough living.
Munoz, who graduated with a degree in health (concentration in health promotion), is currently taking courses at Sacramento State to get his master's in sports psychology. He hit the books hard in college, making Big 12 All-Academic squad for four seasons at OSU. But making a living in wrestling isn't easy.
"I scraped by for five years," he said. "Urijah's always been in my ear to fight. I saw a better opportunity to provide for my family. This is the lifestyle I want to live. When I was coaching, I got content with my athletes, but I got up to 250 pounds. It didn't feel right. I was insecure and wanted to work out. I need to compete. And I finally decided it was a no-brainer."
He turned pro last July with a first-round stoppage and has since won twice more. But the WEC is the big stage -- fighting in front of a hometown crowd of Sacramento on the dark portion of the televised card, he's relying on the old instincts to kick in once he steps into the cage at Arco Arena.
"I forced myself to learn boxing. I want to move like a boxer and a Muay Thai fighter and incorporate that into my wrestling," he said. "Getting acclimated to the whole MMA scene was new to me. I've been a part of Oklahoma State. That room was full of intensity and wrestling greats that have come into and out of that room. But it's different. MMA is different than wrestling (because) it encompasses so many other combat sports. It was a lot to get used to."
He remembers the process from years of wrestling. The placid feeling in the gut leading up to the walk-in. The sudden butterflies. Then, the beginning of the match, where training kicks in and the hours of preparation and conditioning -- mental as much as physical -- take over.
"I've been in a few fights during my life. I've gotten hit," said Munoz, who has trained extensively with Capital City Fighting Alliance teammates Irvin and Smith, both of whom are good strikers. "In a controlled environment, getting hit goes along with all the other disciplines. It took a lot of getting used to. Especially Irvin throwing punches at you. As hard as he hits, you just try to take him down as soon as possible. Every time I trained with Brandon (Vera) or Tito, or John Smith and Kenny Monday in wrestling, I just wrestle hard. When they do something to me, I make a mental note of how they've gotten me or got a takedown, then I ask them about it. I just pick their brain about stuff. I want to learn as much as I can and use every moment I have."
With his debut as a 205-pounder imminent, Munoz said he may drop to 185 if necessary, but given his wrestling pedigree he still feels confident he can make a run at the WEC's best 205-pounders.
"I feel I can take anybody down in the game. I know how to work the inside and punch, throw power punches, set up my clinches and takedowns," he said. "I've been working especially on ground and pound and submissions from on top. Even if I've gone for a sub and end up in my guard, I get back on top with sweeps. I feel like I'm ready for anybody. I can go fight whoever."
It's been a team effort. Wife Kristine's support, along with a strong faith in God, have helped keep him focused on his budding MMA career. Extended family helped support them before he entered MMA, and he wants to recoup that investment in a big way.
"My faith is basically having Him as my Lord and savior of my life. I put a lot of faith in that. There's a verse in the Bible that states, ‘If He's for us, who can be against us?' I put faith in that, and it keeps me humble. My mom has raised me up that way. It was basically a family type deal for me. I've grown to accept it. He's been with me from the start."
The old specter of weight cutting still lingers, though. Dark memories of sweat-puddled mats, doubled-up rubber suits, exercise bikes in the sauna and obsessive deprivation. It's a private hell, and often more of a battle for weight-cutters than the fights that follow. Currently walking around between 215 and 220 pounds, Munoz knows that trimming to 185 could be a possibility in his future. In a way, it might fuel him even more to succeed at light heavyweight.
"I don't want to think about cutting weight right now. I want to learn as much as I can, and when I'm grounded enough, then I'll make the cut," he said. "When my arsenal is where I want it to be, I'll cut. Right now, I want to go out there and fight my fight."
