I thought he did it right
They had a really good write up on Chris in the Indianapolis Star today.
http://www.indystar.com/article/20110824/SPORTS15/108240319/?odyssey=mod%7Cnewswell%7Ctext%7CIndyStar.com%7CpChris Lytle sat at a table inside Fire Station 1 on the Near Westside on Tuesday morning, sporting a nasty, blackened left eye and a look of utter contentment. The storied mixed-martial arts fighter retired Aug. 14 after a victory over British fighter Dan Hardy, but here he was, surrounded by the firefighters with whom he has worked all these years, feeling completely at peace with his decision and ready to move on with his life.
After all these years, it's time to go home, and stay home, and be the husband and father he has always wanted to be.
"The month before a fight in February, I hurt my knee, and after the fight, I had surgery and had to rehab for two months and didn't really train," the 37-year-old said. "And during that time, I was home with the kids, which was something I'd never been able to do. Before then, I was always training, rarely home for dinner, rarely got to go to basketball games and track meets. But those few months, I got to do all those things and really enjoyed it.
"Then, I started training for this Hardy fight, and I immediately noticed, I didn't want to be there training. I wanted to be home. I'd never felt that way before. I guess it had always been my routine, so I didn't know what I was missing. When I noticed I didn't want to train -- I had to force myself -- I knew that was a problem."
Lytle, for those who don't know, was born and raised in Southport, lives now with his wife and four children in New Palestine, and will walk away as one of the pioneers who moved mixed-martial arts from underground bloodsport to mainstream, network-worthy phenomenon. The Indiana University graduate leaves a legacy as one of the most entertaining and committed fighters in the sport's history, a guy who would rather lose and put on a good show than win and leave fans disappointed.
He was a no-holds-barred brawler who finished his career with a 10-10 Ultimate Fighting Championship record -- although he won several smaller titles in boxing and other cage-fighting organizations before UFC.
"You could always count on Chris to deliver an exciting fight," UFC president Dana White said. "All you have to do is look at how many fight-night bonuses he's won (10 total, six for fight of the night, three for submission of the night and one for knockout of the night). When Chris stepped into the octagon, you knew he was going to give you 110 percent. I think fans appreciated that about Chris.
"He proved to be a great ambassador for the sport and certainly helped us grow into what we've become. I think fans related really well to Chris. He's a blue-collar type of guy . . . a father, active in the community and dedicated to giving fans their money's worth. He's one of the classiest guys in the sport."
The time to say goodbye, though, was at hand. The two months away from the sport opened Lytle's eyes. So the day before the Hardy fight, at the weigh-in, Lytle slipped White a note.
This would be his last fight.
"I think it was a situation where Chris felt it was time to focus his energy on his family and I respect that," White said. "That note was from a father and husband who decided he wanted to spend more time with his family. We completely supported his decision."
A lot of times in sports, we hear coaches and athletes say they're leaving to spend more time with their families, and within six months, they realize nobody will give them a standing ovation for taking out the garbage. It's hard to replicate the adrenaline rush that comes from competing at the highest level. And yet, Lytle says he's quite sure he's done.
"I won't come back," he said. "I just realized, it's time for me to stop worrying about me and start worrying about other people. I don't know if that's being 37 and wiser, or the fact I got to take an outside look at my life and really evaluate it.
"I always justified what I was doing because I was making enough money so she (wife Kristin) wouldn't have to work. But I realized, it's great they have a mother, but they needed a full-time father, too. I felt guilty all the time. I couldn't live with myself anymore."
The next step:
This weekend, he will announce he's running as a Republican candidate for the state legislature. This is not some kind of lark.
We joked about possible political posters.
"Yeah, I can give a look like this" -- he made a mean face, black eye and facial scars on display -- "and have it say, 'Vote for me . . . or else.' "
He's also going to go in with several other people and open a non-profit mixed-martial arts gym next month at the corner of Michigan Street and Sherman Drive -- not necessarily to build MMA fighters, but to give young people a place to go and a chance to learn about discipline and hard work.
Mostly, he will be a husband and father.
Still, Lytle can't help but laugh that four days after the Hardy fight, UFC signed a multimillion-dollar, seven-year deal with the Fox network, a move that will make the sport richer and more popular than ever.
There are, however, no regrets.
Zero.
Lytle helped bring the sport from the darkness into the limelight, from the basements to the big arenas, and that means the world to him. As it should.
How far has his sport come?
His first fight, which took place in a basement of a gym in 1998 in Muncie, earned him $100. He fought in front of maybe 200 people. "Back then, you could head butt," he said, smiling. "There were no weight classes, no gloves."
He can remember an early fight in Richmond. "It was in this dingy, damp basement of a karate studio," he said. "It was like a scene out of 'Fight Club.' The cage was so flimsy, people had to hold it up. But that's all we knew. There was no money. We fought for the love of the sport and the competition."
His last fight, he worked before more than 7,000 fans at the Bradley Center in Milwaukee and earned "a couple hundred thousand dollars -- and a Harley."
Now it's time to take care of Kristin and their children, ages 8, 10, 14 and 16.
Now it's time to take a stab at politics, which, while time consuming, would still allow him to be home for dinner most nights.
Now it's time to give back to local youth who have interest in the sport.
And of course, there's the firefighting job, where he does a 24-hour shift every three days.
He was one of the few current fighters who maintained a full-time job while pursuing a fighting career. But it gave him a perspective others didn't have.
"The problem with a lot of fighters now is, this is all they know," Lytle said. "They don't have enough balance in their lives. I had this fight last Sunday, I come in here Wednesday and they're like, 'Great job, Chris. You're mopping floors today.' It's hard to feel like a real badass when you're mopping floors and cleaning toilets.
"We'll go out on a call and see somebody in cardiac arrest, you think, 'Wow, me winning a fight doesn't really matter.' A couple of months ago we went to Walter Reed Hospital, and a lot of the (military) guys have limbs blown off. And they're thanking me for what I do. That's pretty humbling. 'I'm just getting in a ring and fighting. We should be thanking you.' "
The sport he leaves behind owes Lytle its eternal gratitude.
Now, finally, it's time to go home.
