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Workmanlike Frankie Edgar readies for shot to regain UFC title

The New England Patriots lose to the New York Giants in Super Bowl XLVI and, for all eternity, they are the runners-up. Kevin Durant and the Oklahoma City Thunder fall to the Miami Heat in the 2012 NBA Finals and there's no guarantee they'll ever get another shot at the title. Tiger Woods? He may or may not win another major championship. But either way, he'll have to surmount an entire field. No one is automatically placing him in a final round.

Combat sports are different. For better or worse -- and we would argue better -- there is often the possibility of a rematch, the chance either to avenge a loss or prove that an initial upset was really no upset at all. Sure, there's an undeniable commercial element to the rematch, an attempt to manufacture a rivalry, a way to induce a champion to fight a challenger by ensuring a "do-over" in the event of defeat. But there's also something gallant about the concept. Let's double the sample size and really determine superiority.

In the UFC, nobody does the rematch quite like Frankie Edgar. It was two years ago that Edgar, then a modestly-known lightweight from New Jersey -- heavy on substance, light on style -- took on the decorated champion B.J. Penn, a member of the UFC's Mount Rushmore. The fight was held halfway around the world in Abu Dhabi and it had a certain Ali-versus-Foreman-in-Zaire feel to it. In the face of heavy odds, Edgar decisioned the champ to win the lightweight title, marking one of the bigger upsets in the promotion's history. At least, it seemed that way at the time.

When the two fought again barely four months later, Edgar again won by unanimous decision (taking every round on all three judges' cards), defending his belt. It was a characteristic Edgar performance: workmanlike and technical and tough. The kid from Jersey neutralized Penn's ground game with superior wrestling, movement and stamina. The doubters were issued a gag order. The first fight was suddenly recast. "The rematch was great in that sense," says Edgar. "[Penn] was a champion and he should have a right to try to get his belt back. But for me, it was a way of saying, 'It wasn't a fluke.'"

In 2011, Edgar was next challenged by Gray Maynard, a former Michigan State wrestler, who'd beaten Edgar earlier in their careers. In what was less a UFC battle than a 25-minute of sanctioned assault and battery, the two brutalized each other for each of the five rounds. Proving his chin was hard enough to cut diamonds, Edgar survived three first-round knockdowns, and seized control of the latter rounds.

It's not often that fight fans approve of a draw. This draw was generally considered the fight of the year. It meant that Edgar would hang on to his belt, if barely. It also meant that a rematch was inevitable. When Edgar and Maynard fought again at UFC 136 in Houston, the champ again survived first-round target practice and ended up knocking out Maynard in the fourth. As Dana White, the UFC's inimitable frontman, waited for the fighters to arrive at the postfight press conference, he couldn't contain himself. (Not that he ever does, anyway.) "The little [expletive] did it again. He [expletive] did it again!" White enthused. "Can you believe this?"

In 2012, the rematch dynamic changed for Edgar. In February, he was beaten by Benson Henderson, a lanky refugee from the WEC promotion, surrendering the belt in the process. Edgar's blood hadn't dried and he promptly called for ... a rematch. The UFC abided, so Edgar has spent the last few months preparing for another go-round with Henderson on Saturday at UFC 150. "I seem to keep finding myself in this [rematch] position, whether I like it or not," he says. "But it's OK. You win [rematches] based a lot on adjustments you make, so you don't want to focus too much on the other guy. He's going to give a different look, anyway, most likely. So it's better to work on your own technique."

Unlike so many fighters who ratchet up the tension (and pay-per-view buys) of a rematch by framing it as a personal feud, Edgar expresses what is, at worst, shrugging indifference toward Henderson. "He seems like a nice guy and I definitely respect him as a fighter," Edgar says. "It's competitive -- it always is -- but I have nothing against him. Honestly, I don't know him well enough to say 'I don't like this guy.'"

Doesn't he want some level of animosity, real or imagined? "Nah, I've never been like that," he says, in pitch-perfect Jersey-ese. "It's like a baseball pitcher going against a batter. You do what you gotta do, that's all. I've never been your typical fighter in that way."

Actually, Edgar is your typical fighter in approximately 0.0 ways. He grew up as the oldest of three siblings in Toms River, N.J., not exactly an MMA hotbed. Edgar was a fiercely conventional kid in a fiercely conventional town. The adjacent wealthy beach communities fire Toms River with a certain underdog sensibility, and Edgar figures this might have served him well later. But otherwise there was nothing to suggest he was a future world champion. He didn't get into many fights or much trouble. He was a fine wrestler in high school and competed on the mat all four years at Clarion College in Pennsylvania. He qualified for nationals, but was no champion.

While Edgar grew up an old-school UFC fan, when the organization went underground for a spell� "You couldn't even get it on pay-per-view," he recalls� his interest went elsewhere. When he graduated from college, he returned to Toms River, got a job at his stepfather's plumbing supply business and even joined the local pipefitters union. It was around then, though, that he began watching a new reality show, The Ultimate Fighter. The wires connected.

He already had the wrestling background. When he began MMA training, he picked up the other disciplines, especially boxing, with remarkable ease. He wasn't going to dazzle anyone with his athleticism or his reach, but he wasn't going to be outworked either. He might not amass style points when he fought, but, even among the tough guys in MMA, his toughness was obvious.

In keeping with the storyline common among UFC fighters: Edgar's family thought he was nuts for considering entering the cage-fighting workforce. He won a few fights, and showed that he had some skills, that maybe this wasn't career suicide after all. At the same time, the UFC was growing like Jack's beanstalk. Eventually Edgar's family accepted his unlikely career. Today Edgar, of course, earns multiples more money than he would have fitting pipes and installing sinks and toilets.

As Edgar, 30, awaits his second date with Henderson, he varies his training in and around New York. One day he's at the New Jersey jiu-jitsu gym of Ricardo Almeida, a former UFC fighter of distinction. Another day he's at Renzo Gracie's gym in midtown Manhattan. A third day, Edgar is rolling with the wrestlers at Rutgers. (He's one of the team's assistant coaches.) A fourth, it's the boxing gym.

He still lives in Toms River� a few minutes away from his childhood home� with his wife, Renee, and their two young sons. Except for the occasional welts on Edgar's face, you'd never know he'd let his pipe-fitter union dues lapse. If he gets noticed when he goes out, he chalks that up to growing up in the town. "Also, if I were like, Brock Lesnar I'd get more attention. But I'm a little dude," says Edgar, who's listed at 5-6 and walks around within a few pounds of his fighting weight. "The fame gets bigger with every fight, but it's nothing I can't manage."

In UFC circles, he gets teased about his Jersey Shore credentials and the irony is this: he really does have connections to the cast. Edgar's wife is friends with Jennifer Farley, a/k/a JWoww. And Edgar once taught mixed martial arts to JWoww's boyfriend, Roger. Does Edgar watch the show? "Yeah," he says slowly. Is he a fan? He pauses. "It's funny. You gotta take it for what it is, man. But it's funny."

One of Edgar's few extravagances is the pearl white BMW M5 he recently bought himself� used, he's quick to point out. A few months ago, Edgar's friend Akira Corassani, also an MMA fighter, hired an actor to pretend to repossess the beloved car. The result went viral.

As Punk'd attempts go, it was only marginally successful, mostly because Edgar is too poised to blow his stack, too grounded to flip into full diva mode.

Meanwhile, Akira Corassani should be careful. If Edgar knows anything, it's this: there will be a chance for revenge.

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