Look at him in all of his glory. Fedor. We miss you, Last Emperor. No other man could elicit reverent responses and hushed, jealous whispers like Fedor. He could probably still fight, he just chooses not to, which is fine. Maybe one day the UFC will go to Russia and we will see Fedor, Octagon-side, chilling with some vodka and a crucifix. Or maybe we won’t? Still, just the mere glimpse of Fedor is all we really need as a reminder that one of the baddest men ever can be recognized on an Olympic scale. The proper scale for a Fedor Emelianenko.
Look at him, carrying the Olympic Torch. He’s a magnificent specimen.
