ULTIMATE FIGHTING CHAMPIONSHIP 88: KINGS OF THE RING

Back when the ring was four-sided and fighters didn’t roll around on the canvas trying to rearrange each other’s skeleton, Marc Ratner was one of boxing’s leading lights.

Ultimate fighting? Wasn’t that something that broke out at closing time, usually involving some combination of two men, one woman and an empty bottle of Wild Turkey?

It was Ratner and John McCain who went on with Larry King nine years ago and threw that whole hybrid sport under the arena. Ratner was the longtime head of the Nevada Athletic Commission, and McCain the Arizona senator and boxing fan who famously branded mixed martial arts as “human cockfighting.”

Well, look at how the landscape has changed. Boxing is in assisted living. McCain is trying to slap a submission hold on Barack Obama. And Ratner, 63, left his post overseeing boxing in Las Vegas after 19 years to join the Ultimate Fighting Championship as vice president for regulatory affairs. It’s his job to explain to new markets that it’s practically a community service to put up an octagon in their town. “I’m very bullish on the future of the UFC,” he said.

Ratner raves on, “There’s hardly any down time at a UFC event. There’s not much time between fights. There’s music, there are videos, there’s a constant energy. I’ll say one thing, boxing can learn a lot [from ultimate fighting].”

Ratner’s move was another jarring sign of ultimate fighting’s takeover in the ring. It was a remarkable defection, like Arthur Blank suddenly shilling for Lowe’s.

Some of the new ground Ratner is plowing includes Atlanta.

In 1998, light heavyweight Chuck Liddell fought “in some small place” in Mobile, his MMA debut earning him around $1,000. Saturday, as one of the UFC’s stars, he’s working the big room, a nearly sold-out Philips Arena. Liddell headlines the UFC 88 pay-per-view production, facing undefeated Rashad Evans. His is a mid-six-figure payday this time.

It shapes up as the biggest mixed martial arts show ever in Atlanta, and the biggest fight night of any kind here since Evander Holyfield fought Vaughn Bean inside the Georgia Dome (1998).

“It’s the single largest one-day sporting event gross in the [nine-year] history of the building,” said Kevin Preast, the senior director of marketing and business development for Philips Arena.

“I’m excited. Someone who has promised a big show here is actually delivering,” said local promoter David Oblas, who also produces a program for Comcast called “Inside Punch.”

A big show with a big price tag: Tickets range from $600 to $80.

The UFC moves its punching/kicking/grappling-athon around the country and is a force overseas. Atlanta was due.

“They look at things like TV ratings and pay-per-view buys, and by that, Atlanta is a real hotbed for mixed martial arts,” Ratner said.

The UFC is the largest of the ultimate fighting organizations, its flashy shows and fast-paced fights tapping into that most coveted demographic segment —- the 18- to 35-year-olds who probably aren’t vegans and don’t read a lot of Jane Austen.

When explaining the appeal of his sport, UFC President Dana White doesn’t wax on the nuances of ultimate fighting, nor on the art part of the martial arts.

“One thing we all have in common, all humans, is fighting. It’s in our DNA.

“Go to any street corner. On one corner, they’re playing basketball. On another corner, they’re playing street hockey. On another, stickball. And on the other corner there’s a fight. What do you think all the people are going to rush to see?”

White’s first show, after he took over as president and part owner of the UFC, was in 2001 in Atlantic City, N.J. He sold 3,500 tickets and generated a gate of just under $120,000. Ownership claimed a loss of $2.4 million on that show.

Casino owners Frank and Lorenzo Fertitta, along with White, bought the UFC for a reported $2 million. According to Forbes magazine, its current worth tops $1 billion.

Along with the exposure ultimate fighting has received on Spike TV, another key to growing the sport has been codifying it. In the 1990s, ultimate fighting had only three rules —- no biting, no eye-gouging, no fish-hooking (reaching into the mouth or nose and ripping outward). Most state commissions wanted nothing to do with the no-holds-barred version.

White seized on the need to semi-domesticate the sport. Thus, it added such basics as rounds, time limits and weight classes, as well as rules against hair-pulling and groin-kicking. That won over skeptics like Ratner. Even McCain has softened his stance, although, said Ratner, “I’m sure he’s not a big fan.”

It’s still not a cotillion out there. Ultimate fighting has a glossary of terms that speak to its brawling nature: ground and pound, guillotine choke, flying knee strike. The American Medical Association has condemned its brand of violence.

“Badminton probably has more injuries than mixed martial arts,” White counters.

On only one notable occasion has Ratner had to deal with an unruly fighter biting another. But that was in his former life, in boxing, in 1997 when Mike Tyson turned Holyfield’s ear into a canape. Ultimately, ultimate fighting has expected better than that of itself.

FEATURED MATCH: CHUCK LIDDELL VS. RASHAD EVANS * 8 P.M. SATURDAY * PHILIPS ARENA