WHEAT RIDGE — James McSweeney has seen the world. Born and raised in London, the mixed martial arts fighter began his professional career as a kick boxer at age 18, the start of a journey that’s taken him from Japan to Amsterdam to Albuquerque.
But today, with an Ultimate Fighting Championship show back in the United Kingdom right in front of him, and the hope of a possible title bout down the line, McSweeney is staking a claim right here in Colorado. Specifically, at the Grudge Training Center, a seemingly nondescript gym set amid a feed-and-grain store and a hot tub shop in a strip mall off Kipling Avenue.
“It’s like I try explaining to people,” McSweeney said. “Let’s say you love food; you want to go to the best restaurant. It’s a beautiful place; fine dining, the best meats, the freshest fish and vegetables.
“If people love food, they’re going to want to come to that restaurant. If you love fighting, if you love working at a high level and learning new experiences, then you’re going to get drawn to one place. And this is the finest restaurant of the fighting world.”
On most training days, Trevor Wittman, the head coach for the Grudge team, said he feels like “a computer that has too many windows open,” an understandable thought, given the scene that played out at the facility this week. On this particular morning, more than three dozen fighters were working out from outposts as remote as China, Holland and Allentown, Pa., sparring and working on assorted techniques and martial arts disciplines, all under the watchful eyes of Wittman.
At the conclusion of the intense 90-minute session, many of the fighters literally dropped to the floor, which brought a sharp rebuke.
“Get up!” Wittman barked. “You’re not going to fall down into the middle of the ring after a match! Get up and walk around, at least for one minute.”
The fighters look aghast, as if Wittman had just issued an edict banning tattoos, but they comply. One of the luckier fighters is Alvin Robertson, who, because of a shoulder injury, was unable to participate.
Little room for error
Like McSweeney, Robertson said he wanted to be an MMA fighter even before the sport existed. Growing up in Southern California, he came to Colorado a decade ago to wrestle at Colorado State-Pueblo. He did so for one year, but when an opportunity to get in on the UFC action beckoned, he jumped.
Soon after, he landed at Grudge, one of the first members of a stable that now includes several elite MMA fighters, including world champions such as Rashad Evans and Denver’s Nate Marquardt, the No. 1-ranked middleweight in the UFC.
“A lot of guys came here with a competitive edge from wrestling or jujitsu or boxing and they want to be the best; so when you get four or five of those guys in one place, you’re constantly trying to build upon each other’s success,” Robertson said of the ethos that has made Grudge a destination gymnasium.
“It’s not easy to get into a cage with another man, with millions of people watching, but what helps is coming to this gym and training with some of the best fighters in the world. A lot of times now, I go into the cage and I know that the guy isn’t nearly as good as the guys I work out with.”
Robertson may be exaggerating when he speaks of the audience for MMA, but not by much. At one time, the sport seemed to more closely resemble something out of the Wild West, with the ring serving as the saloon floor.
That image has changed. Tougher regulations have helped, as have a higher caliber athlete gravitating to the sport. According to Time magazine, the UFC generated more than $300 million in pay-per-view revenues in 2008, more than boxing or professional wrestling.
Wittman said the competition keeps getting tougher. He turns away “four or five” guys a week, callers hailing from all over the world, to work out at Grudge.
“You almost have to try out just to get into the gym,” Wittman said. “If guys aren’t going to put the time in, if they’re carrying a lot of baggage, if they’re out partying, it’s very easy for me to pull them aside and say, ‘Hey, this isn’t the spot for you.’ “
Lure of the cage
On this day, Conner Cordova spent much of the morning wondering exactly where he belonged, with his mother Carol cringing as she too pondered the possibilities. A recent graduate of Dakota Ridge high school, Cordova was at Grudge interviewing fighters as a journalist for Fighters Only magazine. But the 18-year-old is also a world champion black belt martial artist who has spent time working out with top MMA fighters.
“Sometimes I think that journalism is what I really want to do,” Conner said. “But then I get into the cage . . .”
And Mom tries her best to avert her eyes.
“He says I want to do MMA and I say, ‘OK’ — if he said he wanted to be a lawyer I’d say the same thing,” his mom said. “You want to support your kids. I’m a mom, I’ll do whatever for him. We have a martial arts school; we raised him to be a fighter, we raised him to be a warrior.
“So in some ways this isn’t a shock, but to see him in the ring with grown men, 24 or 25 years old, who are trying to break him in two, it’s hard. But you can’t show that. You just have to smile and say, ‘Boy, you did great,’ — even if he’s going to the hospital.”
But someday there may be a UFC event with Cordova starring as the headliner. If so, chances are that Mom will be sitting in the front row, and that her son will have prepared for the moment at the fine fighting restaurant that is Grudge.
“We are blessed to have the team and the atmosphere that we have here,” Wittman said.
Anthony Cotton: 303-954-1292 or acotton@denverpost.com
Colorado cage
The World Extreme Cagefighting series, which is MMA for fighters weighing 125 to 185 pounds, will have a Denver stop next week with WEC 51.
When: Sept. 30, 4 p.m. first bout
Where: 1stBank Center, Broomfield
Card: 11 fights total
Main event: Aldo vs. Gamburyan in featherweight championship bout
Tickets: $40-$183
