Desensitization is a wonderful thing. It’s what hardens the fight fan into staring emotionlessly at a fellow human being spurting blood from his brow, or seeing his face swell into grotesque, John Merrick-esque proportions.

When you saw Scott Morris (pictures) getting his cheekbones caved in circa 1995, you winced. By the time Evan Tanner (pictures)’s mug was reduced to tenderloin at the (literal) hands of Rich Franklin (pictures) earlier this year, you shrugged it off. Hey, it’s Just Part of the Game.

Realize that this kind of indifference is not the norm. Most people walking the streets are shaken and put off by that kind of bloody, visceral display. Fans rarely acknowledge this — they sit and wonder why ESPN televises hot dog eating contests and not mixed martial arts, oblivious to the perceptions of others.

We now live in a climate where the FCC is threatening to regulate pay cable, a step that would devolve this country into a sanitized police state that would make Ward Cleaver retch.

Strolling into the offices of a major network with a demo reel full of grown men buckling at the knees and bleeding like a blind knife juggler is a bold move, indeed. Which is why Saturday’s Ultimate Fight Night on SpikeTV is such an anomaly. For all the torches aimed Zuffa’s way, they’ve somehow made an ugly, off-putting product palatable to a room of executives.

It was less than four years ago when this kind of competition wasn’t even available on Pay-Per-View, where adults would have to specifically request it for a fee. That it’s now on basic cable is a little staggering.

But here we are.

Admittedly, Saturday night is the graveyard of primetime television, when people without any serious physical abnormalities presumably head out and try to have a good time. Thanks to the advent of digital-video recorders, some will choose to tape it and watch it the following day. A fair number of people will be tuning in live. And still others might be flipping through channels, stopping to see what kind of train wreck Spike is broadcasting.

After all, what else will they see but two fighters locked in a cage?

There is nobody on this planet who doesn’t have negative connotations associated with that word. Not a one. Cages are for animals. Cages are to separate violent offenders from normal society. Cages are meant to restrain. For the vast majority of Americans not desensitized to this sport, Spike may as well broadcast from a prison.

Granted, it’s not all for show. SEG art director Jason Cusson designed the Octagon to appease both Art Davie’s flair for the dramatic and Rorion Gracie's concern over fighters tumbling out of a ring. Thanks to grappling, bodies were flying every which way and the cage provided the best safety-to-visibility ratio.

The Octagon quickly became a UFC trademark, something intended to differentiate their product from boxing or professional wrestling. It worked. "Cage fighting" was quickly repurposed for dozens of plodding B-movies. People had a primal attraction to the morbid visual of two men locked in a pen and fighting until one was too beaten down to continue. Like most everything SEG attempted in those days, it was intended to satisfy the prurient desires of an ill-educated crowd.

Then evolution took hold, thinning out the part-time martial artists, tightening up the rules, and creating a far more competitive playing field. The action was now polished and professional. But the cage remained, a bizarre monument to the circus days of the past.

The UFC will tell you many things about the benefits of having an athletic competition taking place surrounded by a chain link fence. They will say it gives them an identity, an instant branding. They will say it’s safer for the athletes, that no one is going to tumble out of the ring. They will say it’s worked for years, and if it ain't broke, why fix it?

They are very wrong.

Whatever the UFC accomplishes in the next few years — and it will be significant to the growth of MMA in this country — things would progress that much faster if MMA actually resembled a legitimate combat sport. However many people embrace the concept, that many more will rebuke it based on a gut reaction to seeing a glorified street atmosphere.

PRIDE is no bastion of fighter safety, but after 40-odd events and hundreds of bouts, we have yet to see a single fighter go careening out of the ropes. Would American fans find restarts in the middle of the ring to be a distraction? Initially, yes. Would they get used to it, just as they got used to the more comedic aspects of grappling? Of course.

The influence on the action itself is clear: the cage allows the wrestler to post his opponent up against the fence, an act that can slow the action down considerably. In the ring, the wrestler is forced to contend with a grappler who has the space to create opportunities for escape. The ring favors no one. It levels the playing field.

The cage is a parody of itself, a kitschy gimmick that has somehow survived a decade of evolution. For a live crowd — a business the UFC relies on — it’s a nightmare, an obstructive eyesore that has you watching a monitor more than the live action. But because it separates the UFC from other live attractions, it remains.

The foundation is there. Las Vegas allows for a ring; pending a rubber stamp, so will California finally considered it. MMA can benefit from the relative goodwill attained by boxing. The ring is associated with conventional pugilism. For some people it would simply provide be a subconscious acceptance. And the pundits who crack wise about the sport would suddenly suffer a sharp decline in ammunition.

When you sit down to enjoy a free MMA telecast Saturday, take yourself out of the equation for a moment and imagine how casual observers will perceive this event. Taken as a whole, it’s an engaging sport that can arrest your attention. But consider the people who will be tuning out just as fast as they tune in, put off by the lurid vibe given off by a chain link fence.

Ask yourself what the cage is truly doing a better job of: keeping the action in, or potential new fans out.

In Passing …

B.J. Penn under-whelmed once again Saturday, looking flat and sluggish against a semi-retired Renzo Gracie (pictures). With each pound gained, Penn looks less and less like the phenom of 2002-03 and more like a swollen also-ran. Hit the treadmill, BJ — your frame maxes out at 170. … Thumbs down on the UFC for squandering their 44 minutes of free advertising this past Monday night, all but ignoring any hype for the Salaverry-Marquardt showdown. Excise a fight and run a promo piece for your main event. The time to air video packages of both athletes isn't five minutes before they enter the ring. … Congratulations to Gary Goodridge (pictures), a K-1 tournament champion at last. Ending the night for Correira, Williams, and Fujimoto is no walk in the park. Gary came into the combat sports with a token black belt and little else. Nearing 40, he's accomplished far more than most people would have expected. … Despite the odds being against him on the proverbial paper, expect rookie Josh Koscheck (pictures) to make people take notice on Saturday with a submission win over Pete Spratt (pictures).

The opinions expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of Sherdog.com