Blood Sport

Joey Peters - The second time Carlos Condit spars, he hits twice as hard. It isn’t out of malice or frustration; it’s still morning, and the day is just beginning. Condit is merely picking up the pace. It’s early November, and the 28-year-old welterweight fighter—compact, intense and pouring with sweat—is preparing for the fight of his life. In two weeks, he’ll face Georges St-Pierre, one of the best pound-for-pound fighters in Ultimate Fighting Championship history, in the welterweight world championship.

Condit is a muscular 170 pounds, with dark hair, smoldering eyes and a closely trimmed beard. Today, he wears gray gym shorts, black gloves and blue headgear—no shoes, no shirt. Two tattoos—a phoenix on his left shoulder blade and a lion just above the right side of his waist—ripple and leap as he blocks kicks and dodges punches; the pop and slap of gloves on skin rings out whenever a well-placed hit lands. As the sparring intensifies, Condit avoids a takedown, landing a left jab to his partner’s head. He then attempts a left kick to the head, but his sparring partner blocks it and grabs Condit’s leg, taking him down to the mat. Condit jumps back up, eager for more. His partner tries another takedown, but this time Condit avoids it and pins him to the ground. Read more News New Mexico

Blood Sport