Here’s a little something for you “pocket protector/number cruncher” types: I hit Anderson Silva with more unanswered, undefended strikes than any fighter has landed on an opponent in the history of combat sports. Go count ‘em up, Poindexters.

I struck him more times than Quasimodo struck the church bell at Notre Dame. I hit him so many times that I stopped fighting because my fists bouncing off his melon were ringing so loudly that it sounded like a bell, and I thought that the round, and the fight, were over. Actually, that’s not true—I actually stopped out of mercy and boredom.

God knows, if he hit me with a TENTH of the undefended shots I hit him with, the ref would have pulled him off me faster than a meth-head pulls the foil off a dozen shoplifted Dristan tablets. I hit him enough to have the fight stopped FIVE TIMES, in FIVE separate rounds.

Therefore, I consider myself 5-1 against him, even allowing for his tainted triangle which only came after I thought the fight was over, and I had already turned the side of his head into a bowl of porridge with my fists.