Rickson enters swaddled in white like the baby Jesus, sporting a white hooded robe and white shorts, neither with any writing, just an aura of pure Jiu-jitsu! The entire MMA world has been waiting for this moment here at Tokyo Dome May 25,2000. This is due to be one of the greatest MMA fights ever. Two legendary fighters, one from Japan the other from Brazil. Rickson Gracie, with 408 wins and zero loses in a combination of MMA, Jiu-jitsu, Sambo, and Greco Roman Wrestling, versus Masakatsu Funaki, a former king of Pancrase.

The Japanese fans are ecstatically awaiting the entrance of their young veteran and co-founder of Pancrase. Funaki has been fighting professionally since he was fifteen years old, and is the survivor of a gruesome and bloody war against Bas "El Guapo" Rutten for the Pancrase heavyweight title. Although Bas Rutten rained painful open palmed strikes against the bloody samurai, Funaki grew stronger with each punishing blow - fighting back even harder, igniting the Japanese fans into an incredible frenzy, until the match was stopped because of the five knock down rule in Pancrase. Blood was streaming profusely from his eyes when the referee called an end to the match. That, for Funaki, was one of his most important fights ever, but this one tonight is for all or nothing, beat Rickson Gracie or retire from MMA.

Funaki is the larger man, having had to cut weight under the terms and agreements of this particular event. The Japanese fighter is taller, has a wider frame and seems the more powerful athlete of the two. As Royler Gracie, the lightest of the Gracies, talks to his brother, one realizes that Rickson is not that large. At 5'10" (175.4 cm) Rickson seems to the eye to be about the same height as Royler, and weighs only 190 lbs. (86.16 kg) This is a small man in comparison to today's MMA super-heavyweight giants.

As the nervous tension rises and heats up Tokyo Dome, Funaki looks animated but relaxed. Rickson meanwhile seems extremely focused, his head clean-shaven, like a Condor sensing out his prey. Funaki has been rumored to be doing special yoga breathing exercises for at least six months now in preparation for this battle. He feels that if he can match Rickson's stamina and remain relaxed, he will perhaps stand a chance against this Gracies' very serious Amazonian game.

For anyone not familiar with Pride, or in this case Coliseum 2000, this huge surrealistic spectacle is like being inside a futuristic video machine whose labyrinths lead you out onto a center stage, which is surrounded by thousands of radiant fans, like tiny computer chips. The aura is incredible, the entrances are spectacular, and a very young Genki Sudo came out shooting fire from his mouth earlier tonight. It's a carnival! This is the moment on the screen.

The fighters approach the center of the ring seemingly calm. Rickson stares hard at his opponent Funaki's big round eyes. The referee reviews the rules with the fighters; no knees to the head when a fighter is on all fours, no elbows to the face, no groin shots, no eye gouges, ten minutes per round for unlimited rounds, no referees stoppage, corner must throw in the towel.

The bell sounds, palms sweat. Rickson is the aggressor immediately attempting an unsuccessful takedown, which winds up in a clinch. He is under Funaki's arms controlling the torso and begins delivering right fists to the left rib cage. The Japanese fighter bears it and keeps it standing. This clinching, "stalemate" against the corner lasts for a seemingly long moment. Everyone's waiting, Funaki's wide-eyed expression seems almost innocent as he stares out relaxed and focusing on his breathing. He seems pensive, as if time was stopping or pausing, briefly. He seems removed, far away, or perhaps contemplating the end of an era in his life? Rickson picks it up; he delivers knees and more right fists to the left torso. He starts softening him up and bruising his opponent's exposed ribs. Funaki reacts by trying to stomp Rickson's feet. They dance, clutching, Funaki's pinned against the corner post. He waits patiently, perhaps hesitantly for position. Gracie wants to take this fight to the ground; he doesn't want to waste energy striking. Funaki does not want to go down, one mistake is lethal against a Gracie.

Five minutes in, Funaki still holding on, clinches Rickson's neck from above. So far it's been all Rickson on the offense, and a stoic, chiseled, cartoon eyed figure, trying to be patient and relax against the corner. Rickson attempts to duck under and over, but instead rolls onto his own back. Funaki winds up on top while Rickson assumes the guard. This position is the most natural for a Jiu-jitsu fighter. While still on his feet, but on the way down, Funaki delivers two seemingly ineffective clenched chops to Rickson's left facial sphere. Replay: (He used his fists like hammers, using the bottom of the fist instead of the knuckles. But it is as if he has ignited the entire Amazon jungle. Sparks fly as Funaki's' right chisels at Rickson's left cheekbone.) Rickson is still on his back in the guard position, he touches his eye, which looks very tender and he looks incredibly pissed off. Funaki, still standing, delivers some kicks to the horizontal Gracies' legs. Gracie stands but receives a couple more rights to the face. He is really, REALLY pissed off now. It suddenly becomes apparent that his left eye is starting to bubble up from underneath. He comes in for a head clinch with both arms from the front, and pulls. Funaki is thrust face down into the mat. Gracie immediately has the half mount, and completes the phrase by getting the full mount.

The fans are roaring. Funaki is expressionless on his back, with the fierce Brazilian sprawled over his chest. Funaki tastes Rickson's forearms, which flatten his nose and squeeze his oxygen simultaneously. This is not a comfortable place to be, and it gets even more nightmarish. Rickson changes Funaki's smug expression with angry steely fists. Rickson's left eye is almost completely shut. It becomes a race against time for Gracie. His left eye is a blurring messy mass. It looks like a purple mouse trying to escape from under the skin.

Rickson faces down at Funaki, reaching with his own left around the back of his opponent's neck. He grabs Funaki's right arm, pulling it left across Funaki's own face, and proceeds to mercilessly punish him with right fists to the face. The man on the bottom is twisted in an awkward and helpless position. Funaki's stoic and bloody expression is larger than life. He seems resigned to take the punishment, like a little brother whose big brother is really pissed off, because of that one shot he got in.

Rickson's left eye is almost completely swollen shut, looking like a handball. Gracie quickly climbs around Funaki's back, rocking him back towards his own chest, so that Funaki is facing up. Rickson looks like a killer Koala strangling a helpless tree branch. Funaki's eyes bug out, and remain open as his thoughts turn white from lack of oxygen. His arms reach back in a Rickson faces down at Funaki, reaching with his own left around the back of his opponent's neck. He grabs Funaki's right arm, pulling it left across Funaki's own face, and proceeds to mercilessly punish him with right fists to the face. The man on the bottom is twisted in an awkward and helpless position. Funaki's stoic and bloody expression is larger than life. He seems resigned to take the punishment, like a little brother whose big brother is really pissed off, because of that one shot he got in.

Rickson's left eye is almost completely swollen shut, looking like a handball. Gracie quickly climbs around Funaki's back, rocking him back towards his own chest, so that Funaki is facing up. Rickson looks like a killer Koala strangling a helpless tree branch. Funaki's eyes bug out, and remain open as his thoughts turn white from lack of oxygen. His arms reach back in a
final feeble attempt at breaking Gracies rear naked choke. As he looses consciousness he doesn't tap, going out like a true Samurai. His head is chopped off at the end of the ceremony by Rickson, who pushes him away with a leg, for the fucked up eye.

Funaki looks like a blow up doll on its side, as Rickson leaves him there, inanimate and horror show like. Gracie seems to need a good shot of whiskey and a rib-eye steak, seeing as he was left looking a bit like Popeye. "Strong to the finish, cause eye eats me spinach." Funaki re-animates, stands up in a haze trying to remember where he is. He slowly recognizes, and moves towards his corner, asking, "mou owatta no?" "How long did I last?" As Funaki marches away from the ring he is handed the microphone, a traditional part of the Japanese spectacle. He pays his respect to the victor and announces his retirement from MMA. Some of the fans are in tears; I wonder if Funaki cried? He himself had set the greatest goal and obstacle to overcome in his MMA career path. He chose the knife that he drove into his own guts, but now life goes on. He can now contemplate a lucrative and glamorous life as a film star. Besides, now he doesn't have to get his ass kicked for a living anymore, and he can spend more time with his stage actress wife. Although Rickson has won the fight, Funaki looks prettier for the mileage in the end.

It has been three years now since this legendary event took place, and it was to be both of these fighters last MMA fight. Rickson Gracie has not returned to MMA fighting since the tragic and untimely death of his son Rockson, here in NYC. Surely this sad and hard experience has forever transformed this larger than life MMA fighter. Here is a man like all others, who must struggle with a very difficult personal loss, the loss of an only son. This is a three-year tribute remembering the absence of perhaps the most mythical, philosophical, and bad ass MMA son, from the fighting arena.